What My Nephew Learned about Santa Part 2

On Christmas morning, (after the disappointment of not tasting Santa's cookie) my nephew Aidan was handed a gift "from Santa" from under the tree. He immediately opened it, tearing away at the wrapper as fast as his 3-year-old hands could. When he saw the box of the Thomas the Train set, he smiled widely and said "Look! Santa got it from the store!" I guess he didn't buy the concept of Santa's little elves hammering away at the North Pole workshop.

What My Nephew Learned about Santa

I've been spending the holidays with my brother Jerick, his wife Liz and my nephew Aidan in Buena Park, California. Aidan is three years old, and this is the first Christmas that he was made aware of the "existence" of Santa Claus. His teachers at his pre-school gave him a cookie to leave for Santa when he came by to drop off his toys under the Christmas tree. Aidan wanted to taste the cookie, but we convinced him to leave it untouched for Jolly Old St. Nick, beside a glass of milk. On Christmas morning, he rushed out of his room but instead of checking for presents under the tree, he went straight to check the plate where the cookie was. "Santa finished the cookie," he said, greatly disappointed. "He didn't share."

On Solitude and Eyesight

In the four months that I've lived in the US, I've spent a LOT of time alone. I've never had so much me-time in my whole life. I like being by myself, probably more than a lot of people I know. Sometimes though I find myself getting tired of my company, and over here I don't really have much of a choice, I'm pretty much stuck with just me. Anyway, one unpleasant side effect of being alone a lot is that I'm going to need glasses soon. Being alone has left me a ton of time for reading books (that are not remotely related to anything I'm studying), spending time in front of the computer (surfing, not writing papers), and watching TV (totally no educational value). All these activities have caused my eyes to deteriorate at an alarming rate. That's how I finally made the connection between glasses and personality types.

Lord of the Dance

Yes, it was another free show that I watched, this time a dance production featuring Celtic dance. Lord of the Dance has apparently been watched by a lot of people all over the world. If their website is to be believed, it's "the most acclaimed show in musical history". I can't vouch for the basis of that claim, but it was a great show. Group tap dancing always amazes me, and after watching people do that I always think "I'm a loser! What am I doing with my life? I should have learned to tap dance!" (then again, maybe not.)

The highlight of this show for me was the part where the lead solo male dancer came out wearing a sequined gold 8-inch wide belt with the words (take a guess...) "Lord of the Dance". And another guy actually challenged him to a "dance duel" for it. (You could say this is similar to other sports where the competitors win via "tap out"). The antagonist cheated and got the belt from him. Of course the REAL Lord of the Dance eventually tapped his way into getting it back. A dance concert just doesn't get any better than that.

The Lettermen and Christmas

Last week, I took another undeserved break from writing school papers and watched The Lettermen's Christmas Concert in the university. Before you start thinking that I splurged some of my meager allowance on a Lettermen concert, and a Christmas concert at that (my friends know of my lack of Yuletide spirit), it was actually just another show that my friend Bob had free tickets to which he generously shared.

It was fun to find out that the group had sung the original versions of some songs that I like such as "Goin' Out of my Head", "The Way You Look Tonight", and "When I Fall in Love". But what I really enjoyed about the show were the trio's all-red outfits. The three of them wore red suits with matching red shoes. There's nothing like seeing shoes that go perfectly with the Poinsettia on stage to bring out the Christmas spirit.

Hog Wild

One thing that's interested me about university life in Mizzou is watching women's volleyball. My (American) friend Bob and his brother Gary always bring me and Gil (my only Filipino friend here) to watch the games. This is the best team the University has ever had, and they were ranked #7 in the US at some point during the season.

But this is not about the Mizzou Tigers; rather, a team they played against last night, specifically, the Arkansas Razorbacks. Now, that's a nice enough name for an athletic team, but apparently they also call themselves the "Arkansas Hogs" (Hogs, after all, are what Razorbacks are). I don't mean to discriminate against pigs, but I found it amazing that any group would be brave enough to call themselves that. In Philippine collegiate sports, that's just not going to happen. I don't see the UP Maroons, La Salle Green Archers and the Ateneo Blue Eagles competing against, let's say, the PUP Pigs (no offense to PUP, just a random example), or the Beda Baboys (sorry, San Beda, purely an alliterative choice). Maybe they can have "Baboy Spelling" during competitions... "B-A-B-O-Y! Ba-Boy! Ba-Boy! Ba-Boy Kami!!!!!!!"

The Best Molten Chocolate Cake

Whenever I see "Molten Chocolate Cake" on a restaurant's menu, I simply have to try it. Last week, I found the best of this kind of cake that I have tasted so far in a restaurant in Chicago. When my classmate Nikki found out that I was in the Windy City for the Thanksgiving break, she told me that I should check out Grand Lux Cafe 0ff Michigan Avenue, which I did as soon as I could. I ordered their Molten Chocolate Cake right away, since the waiter said it took 30 minutes to bake. They prepare each cake from scratch, he said. After a couple of appetizers (no main course to leave room for the cake), it was time for dessert, and it did not disappoint. The chocolate gushed out from the still-warm cake, and what made it different from others was that the edges of the cake were chewy, while the rest of the cake was moist. I can't wait to get back to Chicago to have it again.