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Strong Shoes (part 2)

Broken Shoes



Don't look at your broken shoes,

Just sit in a corner,

And enjoy Traviatta,

So that Verdi would know

That you love Opera music,

As much as I do.

Verdi wouldn't look at your shoes,

He would just ignore

All the snobs in the rooms.


The poem above is authored by Ms. Cristina Toropu which I found serendipitously in Agonia.Net, an international convergence of literature lovers and critics in the web. Ms. Toropu is born in Romania and is currently a math PhD student in the US.


You can lend a guess on why I am posting her poem “Broken Shoes” :

a. I am a snob to snotty people referred in the poem;

b. Cristina and I both like opera music (though I prefer Puccini

over Verdi);

c. My favorite and comfortable shoes, a pair of gray Crocs, has been subject to much glowering by fashion conscious snobs, my only consolation is that at least I have happy feet while they may be suffering from plantar fasciitis resulting to their dour attitude;

d. All of the above.





Answer: D

Welcome to the Tango House

In my quest to further the breadth of my writing, I am getting my hands on new material which I believe would be engaging but not to the point of becoming syrupy in contrast to the sober pinch of Purple Scribbling. I have started my another dot in the blogosphere "Tales from the Tango House" which aims to capture the happy, exciting, challenging, intriguing and occasional drama of family life, motherhood and everything in between.

Tango House chronicles the lives of DB, GM, Sharkboy and Baby Diva, pay them a visit here!

Active dot in the blogosphere

Okay I’ve moved on. I’m done grieving for Pres. Cory’s passing from this world but of course the inspiration she has stirred among us lingers. Her death affected multitudes and I’ve never felt my Pinoy blood flood my consciousness as vigorous as the way it did while witnessing the outpouring of love and respect for an icon of democracy. I hope these emotions would be translated into concrete manifestations of our love for our country’s gift of democracy. I hope that we would all take the responsibility of keeping it unscathed and protected.

Long live Pres. Cory!

Source: Definitely Filipino

Thank you Tita Cory

My father bought a copy of this magazine when I was in grade 4 and this is how I got to know more about Mrs. Corazon C. Aquino aside from the media feed at home while witnessing the 1986 EDSA Revolution. I am very sure and a lot of people will agree that “Tita Cory” will always be an icon of democracy not only to Filipinos but the whole world as well. She was our instrument of faith that finally ended the dark days of the Marcos dictatorship. Our bloodless revolution in 1986 has put our country back in the world map of consciousness and has inspired various democratic movements worldwide. Imagine guns vs. flowers… people vs. tanks… deception vs. prayers… and finally an unassuming widow dressed in yellow vs. a strongman from the north, that for me is FAITH.

Image: Time.com

More on Pres. Aquino

The Old House (s4. Scar Story)

It disappoints me to the point of irritation that some people just don’t get it.

When confronted with a major decision, I’ve always relied on myself first. I believe that you must at least attempt to carry your own load before you could actually seek someone’s help. It’s essential to test the waters for us to answer the basic question – “Will I sink or swim? Ok, I’ll go figure". While others see you as (too) proud, I call it self-reliance.

I remember when I was little my grandmother won’t let me play with her newly refurbished vanity table. Since we were roommates then, I couldn’t resist touching this piece of furniture, it looked so shiny and new, quite appealing even to a child who knows nothing about vanity. I had a strong impulse to touch it that I even imagined the vanity table summoning me to do so.

Being a true-blue inquisitive vagabond in my grandmother’s old house, I finally found time to go beyond looking one afternoon. I run my fingers on its big round mirror and newly varnished smooth wooden surface, opened and closed its drawers and touched its glass top. I again run my fingers on the glass top including its edge, and started gliding my hand on it like the way you smoothen a wrinkled cloth, feeling the cold surface until I accidentally cut the back of my hand which jolted me back to reality.

I found the wound in my left hand bleeding, the gushing scarlet liquid scared me a bit and I rushed for the bathroom. I even rolled the front of my shirt on top of my bloody hand to conceal it from the adults in the kitchen as I passed them by. I made a number of back and forth trips to the bathroom as the bleeding did not stop. I found solution when I took some cotton from my Tita China’s room and pressed it against the cut.

I stayed in the garden swing all afternoon to keep my wound a secret from Nanay and all the other adults in the house. The expected amount of scolding as well as the fussing on me was not something I enjoyed. Days after, the wound dried up and became a scar and still nobody noticed it. A month passed and the scar never lightened even up to this day because it was not just any scar but a keloid half the size of a 5 centavo coin. It became my permanent mark, a symbol of my stubborn streak, but at least I handled it myself.

Image: FlashGlitters

Farewell MJ

Farewell MJ!

You will always be the King of Pop.

No one will ever come close to your musical genius.

Thank you for giving the world your masterpieces.

You will be remembered forever.

Photo: www.fanpix.net

Not Funny

• It's not funny when you discover by accident that someone you hold dear has practically lifted 3 paragraphs of your old blog post without your knowledge and consent. Imagine a piece of your thought copied verbatim, then spruced up by an additional closing paragraph for a cheeky ending statement. I could not believe it myself when I first read it. I don’t know how to feel, I guess the right word here is dumbfounded. Someone has plagiarized my writing. I was thinking that maybe it was done unwittingly but any form of plagiarism is a deliberate act and the additional insult comes from knowing the person who has copied your idea. The "Copier" took it without considering that a writer can only call it her own unless she blows life into it. Rubbing more salt to the wound, she filed the lifted section using the same title I did 3 years ago.

• It’s not funny when someone you know, not really a friend just someone you work with makes fun out of something you feel the opposite. Example when you got a sick child and someone who thinks she’s smart makes a joke out of it. Well the person committing such a despicable act is not only sick and cruel, she is one rotten soul. I say what I want to say, this is my blog!

• It’s not funny when you want to break away from the grinder machine but you can’t. On 2nd thought - I can! I must stop complacency from consuming my zeal and start taking charge of what’s going on with this department in my life right now. It not too late for a carpe diem!

Image: Angry Buttercup from Cartoon Channel

Mermaids

I support my children’s interest and fascination with sea creatures. They visited the MOP twice last year and it influenced them positively on how they look at the ocean and its wonderful marine life. When they learned about the Mermaid Show at the MOP through a front page photo in the Inquirer, they would not stop asking me to bring them again in the oceanarium.








When their Grandpa R paid us a visit last holiday (Independence Day), he was apparently charmed by my little cherubs and brought them to the MOP one morning. The Mermaid Show was only scheduled in the afternoon until the evening and my children felt disappointed. I promised to bring them back on a Wednesday afternoon before the 7-day expiration of our entrance tickets. So it was done on a Wednesday, I got off early from the office to beat the traffic, my brother was kind enough to pick me up and my kids with their nannies since Braveheart was on a client call. Was it worth all the trouble for a 15 minute show? Yes of course, I could not buy my children’s smiles and squeals of delight, including their Yayas’ as they watch in awe the beautiful and graceful mermaids of MOP.

MOP Mermaid Show runs from June 5 to July 15, 2009. Regular schedule: Tuesdays to Sundays; starting 4 pm onwards. For more details please visit the MOP website.

Photos: MOP, Reuters

What does it mean to be Filipino?

I came across this question while visiting Inquirer.net and got pique as usual. Now I can’t resist to giving my answer though Gigo Alampay encourages its readers to analyze more the above question rather than provide a response to it.

Being Filipino is relative to each person, we are all entitled to our own definition based on unique circumstance, orientation and upbringing but one thing stands similar for all of us, we give premium to values that relate to family and hardwork.

I define being Filipino as a way of life, a daily conscious decision each one of us makes. I see it as more than a mindset and a culture, as well as the feelings of pride we derive from it. It is the everyday struggle we put up to keep our spirit and integrity as a Filipino in this global community.

So what sets us apart from the others, it’s our simple attribute which is our "love of family". Our family orientation goes beyond kin and friends, it may even extend to complete strangers. I observed in everyday hubbub, we still take time to pause and look for ways to help other people.

I remember an incident in SM Makati’s foodcourt when a group of old ladies occupied a table nearby our table during lunch. As the women were busy taking their places, one of them carrying a tray of beverages accidentally spilled all of it on their table. They were unsettled and embarrassed of such clumsiness that resulted to a dining disaster but the crowd around them reacted differently. My friends and I gave them our tissue papers to wipe off the dripping mess while people in the other table called for the roving utility to clean it up. A nearby customer even took the extra mile to request a replacement of the spilled drinks. This is what I love about being Pinoy, we love to dip our fingers on other people’s problems. I mean I’m saying this in a good light, the presence of interest is a lot better than indifference in this case. Further, I would like to answer the question, “Why did we help them?” Well most of us (me and friends) remarked that these women reminded us of our beloved “lolas” (grannies).

We Filipinos are known to be self-giving. We believe in hard toil and its rewards. We work in foreign shores to give our families financial security. We take care of our aging parents and grandparents. We look after our siblings. We treat our friends like family. We approach other people in a more personal way. We are into each other’s dealings. Who doesn’t have an officemate who inquires about how your kids are doing and discusses “have you got a replacement to your delinquent yaya” topic? We ask personal questions that foreigners often find intrusive though the intention was to get to know them more. We build rapport through knowing one’s family. In our village, isn’t it that we will always be the daughter or son of their “kumpare” or “kumare”. So how about you, what makes you Filipino?

“Hoy Pinoy ako, Buo aking loob
May agimat ang dugo ko!” -Bamboo

Bitchology

I got this "bitchology" from my friend and mentor Amherstia. While the use of the term "bitch" may seem extreme for others, the situations described below are real. They happen in everyday life.

People may call you names when they can't get you to agree with them but when one calls you a bitch out of frustration, they become the best sore loser in the world, Haha!

BITCHOLOGY

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs,

they call me a bitch.

When I stand up for those I love,

they call me a bitch.

When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or

do things my own way, they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart. It means I live my life MY way.

It means I won't allow anyone to step on me.
When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it,

I am defined as a bitch.

The same thing happens when I take time for myself
instead of being everyone's maid,or

when I act a little selfish.

It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I "should” be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined. I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that! So try to stomp on me, just try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won't succeed.

And if that makes me a bitch, so be it.

I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.

This post is empty.

What a terrible day! I can’t just put it into words. I have been reduced once again to someone who lost a friend - another comrade-in-arms. I can’t do a thing to stop “it”. It’s so frustrating. I could feel the edge slipping through my fingers. How many more should I count or should I even dare count?

Murmurs (s2.)

Been doing a lot of murmurings lately, I call the 1st one “the bite” and the 2nd one “the 2 evils”, here goes:

I have fangs. I grew them while dealing with wicked people. I sharpened it through a number of scrapes and bruises against malign motives thrown by the stuck-up lot.

This is my best feature. I bite. I chew. I live. (Can also be read as: I live, I bite, I chew.) Provocation is not good for me because I don’t have the patience for people with bloated egos. I refer to patience as a single horse-hair strand to which the sword of Damocles is fastened, dangling from the ceiling above his head, threadlike yet sturdy, tough yet fragile. It’s amazing when you think about how two opposing characteristics could appear at the same time on a particular circumstance, though this is not always the case as one would supersede the other anytime soon.

*****

So what holds you back from expressing yourself?

I did an informal survey among friends and here are 3 general responses:

1. I might not say the right thing.
2. What will ______ think of me?
3. I might be misinterpreted.

While you may have a different answer from the ones cited above, it all boils down to fear of judgment. So the culprits are fear and judgment, these 2 evils are unnecessary and are of our own making. To have a healthy outlook in life, we must decide to face our fears since it is the only way for us to go. Oh well, I intend to keep my voice steady and heard in a sea of boisterous laughter and howls of despair.

“Fearlessness is facing what you fear with power.”

Image: Flash-screen.com

A Dream

Susan Boyle is making waves in the web and I am going to have a share in spreading the word about her incredible talent as shown in Britain's Got Talent. She is more than the female version of Paul Potts to me. Go Susan Boyle! Go get' em girl!

The audience were laughing at her first but not until they heard her sing (click on photo to see video). Lesson: Dreams are for free, who can stop you from having one?

Video Link: Dwarthy of Daily Motion

Maternal Pride

I got 2 wonderful children and I am very proud of them. They are the sunshine of my life to put it succinctly.

One child is a painter who loves to tinker with crayons and watercolors since he was 2 years old. His earliest work included the walls of our bedroom where he used a mixed medium of crayola and a green stabilo. My little artist is now 4 years old and apparently influenced by the art on-line of Playhouse Disney requested me to buy him a painting set which I did this weekend. It was perfect timing my brothers D and FA paid us a visit on Sunday. FA is the one endowed with aesthetic sense and talent. He gave Speed Racer a blast with their instant painting lessons. My son’s masterpiece is now posted in my brother’s blog “Arnoland” and it really made my day.

One child is a lover of words. I am thinking and praying that she grows up embracing the gift of gab. The first thing I observed about my little girl is her preference for books over toys. She owns a considerable number of new and old books, some inherited from her brother, some sent by our Tita Mari, and mostly we bought for her during our visit to the mall. Her books occupy a good portion of space in the 3rd level of my bookshelf for her easy access and storage. She initiates our reading time before we go to bed as she pulls 2 to 3 storybooks from the bookshelf and requests me to read to her. She listens intently at every word I utter. She also knows when I skip a word or re-word a phrase for she insists that I read that same phrase again. I observed that this practice is doing her well for she did not only talk early, just last night while playing with Speed Racer, she said, “Kuya please turn off the lights.” Hubby and I exchanged looks and we started laughing, YB’s voice might be tiny but she expressed her thought in a sentence. Moreover, she’s only 2 and yet she knows how to get her kuya to follow her.


*Image by Little Ms. Nana

A Simple Lesson

I was moved by Pulitzer Prize winner Doris Kearns Goodwin, acclaimed presidential historian, winning writer, political analyst, Harvard professor and most of all, Mom to 3 sons. A bit of her 1998 commencement address at the Dartmouth College was featured by Queena Lee-Chua along with the memorable speeches of Kofi Annan and Nobel-prize-winning physicist Richard Feynman in her column Eureka. I love Kofi (who doesn't?) but right now I wish to know more about Goodwin, an extraordinary woman and her choice.

Upon withnessing the mighty life of success of Pres. Lyndon Johnson, Goodwin said: "On the surface, he should have everything....and yet the man I saw in his retirement has spend many years in pursuit of work, power and individual success that he had absolutely no psychic or emotional resources left to commit himself to anything once the presidency was gone."

She also noted in her speech a sad conversation she had with Pres. Johnson before he died when he said that he was watching the American people forget him as they were absorbed with the new president...forgetting even the great civil laws he passed. He began to think that his quest for immortality had been in vain, that perhaps he would have been better off focusing his time and attention on his wife and children. Goodwin continued in her speech that, "Despite all the money and power he was alone when he died, his ultimate terror realized."

Having witnessed Pres. Johnson's late realization in life, Goodwin gave up her teaching career in Harvard and pursued motherhood fulltime. She reoreinted her life, weighing less on work and ambition but more on raising a family. Moreover, it took her 10 years to come up with her 2nd book and this is what she got to say: I'd like to think it made no difference to the world how long it took, but it mattered to my kids when they are young. It all goes so quickly....But the point is, even if some opportunities were lost by the choices made when the children were little, there's plenty of time now to move in new directions. It was just a matter of trusting in the choices that were made."

I found Goodwin's words enlightening and her life a living example of her wisdom and the things she believes in, it seem to shed light to a "situation" that I have been contemplating for a long time already. I have always known the answers to my questions but I simply lack the courage to take the reins and move towards the direction of my liberation, from a life of mediocrity and a life filled with giving in to the expectations of others. I feel blessed for there is still time to live my life the way I see fit living it.

Want to learn more about Doris Kearns Goodwin?

More Facts on Women

Fact # 1: As we grow older, women gain weight. This happens because we accumulate a lot of information in our heads. Then, of course, we get to a point in which so much information doesn’t fit in our heads and it starts to distribute itself throughout our entire body. Now I understand it all, I’m not overweight! I’m not fat! I’m smart!! Very smart!!



Comment: I totally agree.


Fact # 2: Life should not be a trip to the tomb with the intention of reaching it with good health and an attractive and well cared for body; it should be more like a ride on a great water slide, with a big piece of chocolate in one hand and a glass of good wine in the other, with a body totally worn out from good living, and yelling...


Comment: Amen. I believe in eating to my heart’s content. I consider food as more than a required substance for energy and sustenance. It is an expression for me to enjoy the good things in life and honor the blessing of having enough food to enjoy and share with dear family and friends.


More facts:
· We don’t go bald.
· We have an international day, and a national day too.
· We can use pink as well as blue. (and purple)
· We always know our kids are ours. (this is not to say that we are not faithful wives/lovers)
· We have priority in a shipwreck.
· We don’t pay the bill. (we live in the 21st century, this is not an issue)
· We’re the first hostages to go free. (the IHL states so)
· If we are cheated on, we’re the victims .
· If we cheat, the men are the ones with the horns. (and get branded as lousy lovers)
· We can sleep with a girlfriend and not be labeled as homosexuals. (how about bi-sexual?)
· We can pay attention to several things at a time. (ask a working Mom)
· The wife of a President is the First Lady, What is the husband of a female President? (first Hubby?)
· If we decide to do a man’s job, we’re pioneers;
· If a man decides to do a woman’s job, he’s a fag. (heard about house-husbands)
· And last but not the least, we can do everything a man does, and (while) wearing heels too! (take note, women can even dash to the finish line wearing 3-inch stilletos and still manage to remain charming at the same time)

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY!

Sources: Facts from Bumble-bee's e-mail; Images from News.com.au; and Intl Women's Day website.

Encounters with the 3rd Kind

Move over dark cloud, I am turning the wheels of my blog from its gloomy direction as I write about something hilarious for a change like my brief and surprise encounters with former chums, classmates and friends. I observed that you can read people during their unguarded moments, from congeniality to nonchalance, I’ve witnessed a lot and waiting for more.

One day a beautiful lady came near me while I stood in a queue with my friend Violet in a convenience store. I felt the girl’s eyes burning on the side of my face when she couldn’t resist the chance and blurted out, “Excuse me miss, are you from UPLB?“ I looked at her while scanning my memory banks fast, I honestly did not recognize her and worse, I couldn’t get the name. I worked my mind out until I managed while nodding, “Uy sis ka ni Earl (Earl was my high school classmate). The girl was my classmate in a number of electives (crop science, agronomy) back in college. She leaned forward to give me a peck on the cheek and a brief hug. Of course I did not resist this act of warmth from a pretty lady like her, I could only smile while I faltered again in my mind for her name. I guess she was fumbling too on the name game. “Where do you work now?” was her second question and I gave her my answer and tossed the same query. After her response, she pursued for the work location and I said, “I work at the Petri Dish Building along Almonds Avenue.” She exclaimed, “Hey I just work at the Flasks Building along Almonds too!” I then added, “Your building is just across our museum err… office.” I was affable with this girl, we were having a conversation and I really like her now.

Winking at my tummy, she followed a question, “Uy buntis ka?” I was smiling when I said, “No, I’m just chubby.” She was very brave and continued, “Uy… buntis ka no?” Usually when people become privy at the wrong time and place, I easily ignite into a fiery version of myself. However I wondered why I only answered back, “No I am not. I just have exercise-challenged abs here, FYI, I already have 2 kids.” My friend Violet at this point was already throwing glances at my long-lost girlfriend, the look seem to say “one more word on the pregnancy thing and you’ll get kicked on the butt.” I am really a sucker for pleasantries especially the ones seasoned with hugs and kisses for I did not get irritated with this lovely but lost girl. At least I did not carry the burden of embarrassment as she appeared to be frozen on the spot and about to put her fist inside her mouth. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for an honest mistake, doesn’t she? I care less for we even exchanged mobile numbers and yes we’re texting.

Another unforgettable encounter was with a cold-blooded classmate working in a hospital. When I gave birth to my first born at the MMC in 2004, hubby was scared out of his wits with my labor show running for 3 days. During the registration, he got some of my personal information mixed up so we were required by the admitting office to get the information fixed prior to the birth registration of our baby. So we went to the admitting section of the hospital and I found myself face to face with a former classmate in high school. She attended to our requirements like she was dealing with a stranger. There was no trace of friendly connection which caused my graciousness to be superseded with frankness and I said, “Ano ka ba Nigella, hindi mo ba talaga ako nakikilala eh magkaklase tayo nung h-school saka andyan naman sa record mo yung pangalan ko.” Translate: Get a grip girl! Stop this play-pretend that we don’t know each other, it’s so pathetic and by the way, hi!

Then there was also this another tricky one, we almost bumped into each other at the Galleria, she was wearing eyeglasses that didn’t work I suspect as I found my smile fading when she gave a sharp stare in exchange. She used to be a fair and sweet young girl in high school, a former classmate who happens to sit behind my seat in 4th year high. She’s changed with that pompous air she wore like an elephant pretending to be a bird. The surprise did not end there because after a few months, I got an invitation from her in my social networking account. What?!?

Not all my brief encounters were hostile though, I have a bunch of former classmates and friends reconnected with again like the one I bumped into while shopping for shoes when I heard her voice out of the blue. Daffodil was as glad as I was for the unexpected meeting that she treated me to dinner. There was also one friend in college, a classmate in my tennis class, who was as jovial and as gracious. Like they say, it is not how you make friends but how you stay friends, time and attitude spells the difference. It’s not difficult to spot which one is a keeper or a loser. Another one important lesson is to keep a Samurai handy in case someone suspects me again for being more than chubby err … (take note, the politically correct term is) “weight-challenged”.

Source: www.istockphoto.com