the fantabulous madam m's return

salut!

you probably missed me. well, i hope you did because these days nobody misses me except those people who are under my payroll, my parrots and my puppies. how sad!

it’s been over a year since i last guested in my favourite apo’s blog. i think he abandoned it for a while too, if i remember it right, when he went on a hiatus to find his soul, something that's really hard to do since genetically speaking, he has none. he came from a family of soulless kleptogarchs, so we don’t care much about the soul but of the glitter of gold. there i said it at last.

i have been dispatched to write this because my apo is again nowhere to be found. i mean, he is not in the mood to do anything but mope. you know how he is dahlins, so you know these episodes when all he wants to do is lock himself up inside his room and do whatever it is that he does best for days.





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since i care about this blog, whose readership has reached europe, the middle east, the united states and the whole of asia, i need to update it. 

it’s a pity if i will just let it go to waste just because my apo has been in one of his mean red moods (he’s a big breakfast at tiffany’s fan and thinks he should have starred in that film. but he adores audrey hepburn. no, he worships her.)

(the movie's poster prominently displayed in one of my apo's former flats.)

so what do you want me to talk about?

hmmm…let’s start with showbiz. my apo’s favourite topic. 

angelina jolie just finished directing a movie that she also scripted titled in the land of blood and honey (the title is not that enticing though. sounds like a b-movie about vampires and their virgin conquests. hindi pinag-isipan). 
some say it's part schindler’s list and a bit of the english patient. how luvly! how contrasting! the horrors of war and the romance behind it. beautiful, beautiful angie!

let me ask you this, is there something that the oscar-winning actress, humanitarian, doting mom, sex siren with bee stung lips and to die for body can’t do? isn’t she one of the luckiest women in the world? she has a brad pitt for a husband, a luvable family worthy of a united nations ad, tons of cash in the banks, hollywood at her disposal. and now this? no wonder jennifer aniston remains..well..jennifer, a starlet with no claim to fame except being brad’s ex.

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here at home, everyone’s buzzing about nora aunor’s comeback. oh well. this is her nth comeback and hopefully this time it’s for the best. we need her to remind the new generation of stars what it takes to be a true artiste. you have to suffer for your art. don’t be afraid of losing, of suffering, of hitting rock bottom. because all of these will help you hone your craft, give an edge to your performance. they will build your character, your humanity. 
then you can bounce back and hit the big time again.

i haven’t seen her teleserye yet over at manny’s network. i don’t know why they have to show it after that awful game show by that tacky host. it's like beauty and the beast all over again. please remind me, why is he, the game show host who has no talent for hosting and whose voice sounds like a frog, on teevee again?

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what about fashion? my apo’s other favourite topic. 
oh well, what happened to patis, pitoy, christian and inno? why aren’t they visible these days? the other day, i told my secretary to ring one of them because i needed a new terno for my state visit to my beloved constituents, but she could not find him. worse, his cellphone number has been disconnected! que horror! what’s going on?

my forbes park amigas referred me to these new designers that are sprouting like mushrooms in the metropolis, as if we are a first world country whose economy can afford to organize events where you have to wear ball gowns like a princess. where the elites, in the guise of charity, gather twice a year to flaunt their assets and hear the latest gossips about whose in and out of the inner circle, whose been jailed, whose been duped, etc.
but i told my amigas, no i am not impressed. i prefer the old masters. maybe when i am in a whimsy mood, i will ask that famous dubai-based designer michael cinco to make me a terno with a modern twist. that will be something that tattler, vogue and vanity fair should watch out for.

have you seen michael's creations? madre de dios! they are a dream. so fabulous that i wish i were eighteen again so i could wear them at my grand entrance to society. if i were younger, i would have commissioned him to design my outfits to all those grandiose parties that only the most beautiful people in manille were invited.

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politics you say? nothing interesting there, my dearies. while our family's fortune has been built in this industry that sucked the nation dry of its wealth, i really find it boring. all these talk about money, money, money. wherever you go, people think you are a walking atm!

they will say, madam we need fifty five million pesos for a farm to market road, but at the end of the day, they will only build a narrow one kilometer road that even a carabao can’t pass. por dios por santo! where did all that money go? 
then they will tell me, madam my son is sick, my daughter is going to college, my mother died, my father is gay…etc, etc. it’s sickening. especially this last one. do they expect me to give money to the gay father so he can support his luvers and boytoys too? que horor!

sometimes i don't feel like going out anymore, especially to meet my constituents.

don’t you find it crass talking about money? i do. i never talk about money, i only spend them.

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that’s why i have a high respect for my apo here. he never cares about money. look at this place he is currently renting. it’s so rundown that even the cockroaches and rats won’t come and live here. snobbish little pests! 
but he says he likes it here. he says it’s only temporary because he will be on his next journey very soon. but i can sense that he is starting to enjoy it here! this?! i told him, pointing to the dirty walls, peeling paint and stained floor, the smelly lobby and the slow, rickety elevator that is more scary than the turbulence on the plane.

this is what life is all about grannie, my apo says. to experience what everybody is experiencing. to live as ordinary as possible. lastly, you know how i luv old buildings. they have souls. they have history, grannie. 
there he goes again, i thought, mumbling about soul and history. 
whatever happened to my fabulous apo, the one who would go with me when i shop for a goya, picasso, chagall or lalique? who loves to fly to paris or new york on a whim?

my apo who will not take a shower unless the water is replaced by perrier? who dines with me in aragawa and el amparo and enjoys staying in fabulous hotels? who luvs summering in crete and re-enact those scenes from mamma mia or in lake como, stalking george clooney the whole time like those pesky paparazzi?

who is this creature who now looks like……a bloated bob marley in his worst hair day?

pardonne moi, but time for me to go. my secretary just informed me that he is hearing some noises inside my apo’s room. 
maybe the master has awakened. time to feed him hot chicken soup so his fever would ease a bit. what? i never mentioned that he has been running a high fever for a week now? 
je suis desolee!

(footnote: for non-filipino speakers: apo means grandson or granddaugther; for non-french speakers, salut means hello and pardonne and je suis desolee both mean i am sorry.)

(ps: all photos appearing on this post are taken from different websites. no copyright infringements intended. please inform the blogger if you want them removed. thank you so much.)