Funny how people love a very juicy gossip; how enticing and how good it must feel to just take on other people’s lives and making it one hell of a hobby! 🙂
Before I was employed in an office-based career, I was on a field-work for the last 13 years and it was a semi-solitary confinement. I work on shifts and usually alone during my work hours; there’s technically no one to talk to except when somebody calls on the phone when something has gone wrong in the system. So, it was basically a very unfriendly working environment, the only good thing is – I don’t have the chance to relate with my other co-workers for a longer time, as I exit from work right after the next person-on-duty arrives. So I don’t have the chance to compare myself with others. No comparison means no feeling of superiority or inferiority. Human nature is all that all the time, hence, loving the feeling of pulling other people down to feel powerful.
When I got an office-based job, it was a roller coaster. Everyone is taking a bit of other people’s lives. I was taking bits and pieces of them, too. But most of the time, I cringe when I realize that I already have been doing what I hate doing. I don’t like to do gossip, but when the opportunity knocks, I succumb. It was, I think and feel, that taking part in it is like socializing, you take sides and voila! You become friends with someone who shares the same ideas and you become one with the group. Who wouldn’t love a very juicy gossip? It’s like eating a very sumptuous moist chocolate cake, you feel good right after!
But after sharing a thought or two, I feel guilty. What it does to me most of the time is very exhausting. It was always a realization that my so-called friends might have been doing the same to me. I have no skeletons in my closet, but anybody can put up a very good story. With all the actions and facial expressions during delivery, I dared something unbelievable could be very much be believable.
Every time the girls group during break time, It was always an opportunity for me to test the oath I swear never to gossip. Most of the time, I fail miserably. What’s worse is I am sharing my personal opinion. Me and my big mouth! Oh, how easy it was to become human and and so difficult to remain humane. Words can hurt so deep that not even the most expensive medicine can heal.
I am dealing with it every single day. I am the big fat perpetrator whenever I open my mouth! And for all I know, I might also be the innocent victim when I’m not in the office. Everything comes in full circle, that’s for sure. It’s scary and now I feel so uncomfortable around people in the office. It is a personal struggle. I’m just glad I still have the time to internalize and gather my thoughts and decipher the good from the bad.
The moral of my musings: Don’t do unto others what you don’t want them do unto you.
Yes, I am a self-confessed addict. I tried giving it up years ago. At some point, I succeeded; but most of the time, I failed. That being said, old habits just don’t ever die. Through time, realizations just come across from nowhere and makes me sit down and write all the things why I succeed and failed in conquering my addiction. Today is one of those days.
Before I throw in my light-bulb moments, please be informed that I am a working mom who wakes up at 5am to prepare every weekdays and goes to work from 8am-5pm, commutes to and from work in a public utility vehicle and a company bus, gets home at around 7pm, only had an hour of lunch break during the day, a home maker, a cook and a babysitter all at the same time, BUT can still squeeze in reading trilogy novels in 3 days. My addiction for reading romance novels sometimes gets out of hand. 🙂
So bad it is. Here goes my list why reading romance novels is a (kind of) bad thing (?):
1.) It takes too much of your free time (including lunch breaks and coffee breaks at work). When I start to read a very good book, I can’t put put it down until it ends. I feel guilty sometimes, thinking I could have made useful the time I spent reading for other productive things like…reading (?) This is really bad. I cannot even think of any other productive things to do other than reading 🙂
2.) It’s no different from a very addictive video game. The more you indulge in it, it just keeps getting better and better. And like playing a video game, you don’t want to be interrupted or else!
3.) It gives you false hopes. 99.99% of all romance novel theme is all about every girl’s ultimate dreams coming true, leaving one a hopeless romantic and a sucker for happy endings. I hope there is a study of women who loves to read romance novels and on how they deal with real-life relationships (if they even have one 🙂 ). I would like to bet that there is high statistics of women who marry late or never marry at all waiting for Mr. Right to come along just like the heroes in the books (dashing debonair, billionaires,CEOs, Christian Grey). Pathetic.
4.) It introduces you to a lot of erotic strategies. It’s not a bad thing, right? Or is it? For minors, yes? 🙂 I, for one, found romance novels very educational in terms of sex education (well, putting it in my most decent comment for conservative readers). 🙂
5.) Before one book ends, you can’t wait to start reading another one. It is a revolution. And an addiction.
6.) It can give you body ailments – stiff neck, poor vision, fat tummy due to lesser burning of calories while sitting the whole time reading.
My list of negative effects can go on forever, but I love my addiction! So, no stopping it anytime. So much for giving everyone points to ponder! haha
Exactly a week ago, I turned my laptop computer on and typed youtube.com to watch music videos. My attention was caught by a video window of a guy on his back, cupping in his hands the face of an attractive brunette girl with blue eyes- video title: Fifty Shades of Grey Official Trailer. Curiosity kills the cat and I clicked play. Wow! I immediately fell in love with the slow version of Crazy in Love by Beyonce.
I remembered downloading an e-book of the Fifty Shades Trilogy last year and totally forgot about it. The youtube clip rekindled my interest and before I knew it, I was already tapping my fingers book after book, page after page on my tablet; just can’t put it down. I was reading during lunch breaks and coffee breaks at work, while riding in a public transport to and from work and before going to sleep.
Oh! The mercurial Mr. Grey… I have been reading fictional love novels since when- of damsels in distress and knights in shining armor- but never have I encountered one that was actually like Mr. Grey. Knowing where I’m coming from, the first novel brought me to a whole new world of sexual encounters where, for the longest time, I was an alien with. I don’t want to sound patronizing but, really, I was in awed to the nth level and the weird thing is..I actually liked it.
The book was a trance and took me to places and opened my eyes that human sexuality can be limited and limitless all at the same time; our capability and incapability to distinguish between right and wrong and how our life experiences can greatly affect how we handle that aspect of our being. What happened to Mr. Grey is real and is happening. I can only hope that the real stuff happens to consenting adults only. I am not a human psychology expert, but I am commenting as a rational human being capable of reason.
The handsome bachelor Christian Grey was a reality of human and animal instinct rolled into one in terms of human sexuality in action. His tendency to enslave a woman sexually and feels gratified as he inflicts pain are not good things to begin with, but his asking for permission before it happens is considerable. I find it funny to hear someone kidded around and said that Christian Grey is the epitome of a man that every girl would agree to have him sexually enslave her considering his really, really good looks and economic status despite his crazy antics. haha (thoughts on Britney Spears’ “I’m a slave for you) It’s as if that someone feels the same way how Ana Steele feels, the hope that her true love can move mountains for any Christian Grey. 😉 I think what draws every woman’s attention to this kind of man is a woman’s idea of reciprocation; the deep-seated longing to fill the blanks to the idea of – ” I need someone who needs me”.
It’s bothersome, though, to think that someone like Mr.Grey exists, but I don’t judge, really. I have always believed that there’s always more to each one of us than meets the eye and that every human being is born good and perfect. The only thing that defines each one of us is the circumstances that we have to live with every single day.
The bright, defiant Anastasia Steele character was admirable. I oh so love defiance; her character is so liberating. Ana Steele’s character might sound undignified, stepped down at, harassed, reduced, and abused, but I saw the other side of it; she was a strong woman who can see beyond the book’s cover and can turn anything in a snap, even the mighty, troubled Grey. She has her own decision and she sticks to it. Christian Grey is one very difficult subject, but her effect on him can never be underestimated. She can make and break him at the same time. Instead of Grey controlling her, I saw it was Ana who was controlling Grey all along; he was under her spell. His love for Ana is stronger than his tendencies. Her strength came from her nurturing nature to Grey’s predicament and from knowing how to heal his wounds. Her strongest point is her capability to love unconditionally- a bull’s eye to Grey’s weakness. It is then always true that women is the downfall of men (haha).
The e-mails were my favorite parts. I just love the humorous exchange of cliff-hanging, read-between-the-lines subjects, chats and signatures of both Steele and Grey in mails; it was refreshing to read. I sometimes catch myself giggling (haha).
Later on, Grey and Steele transformed into more defined characters; they already know what they want but just can’t get hold of it yet. The big question of commitment behind their heads are hanging on a thread. They wanted more out of the relationship but each one was weighing, calculating, bluffing. They found it difficult to jump to that unknown called “commitment”. The jumping might be easy, but the thought of not knowing whether someone is there to catch at the bottom or none is the extreme torture.
I just love how Grey makes it sound so easy to do everything for a loved one. He’s like a promise of a beautiful sunrise after a stormy night. Any woman would die for that kind of man (blinking). Oh well, it’s just me. 😉
Ana, on the other hand, does the right things in the right places or maybe she was just lucky. Her naivety and innocence just makes up the complete package. Her personality can push Christian’s wounded soul to his limit but that makes him love her all the more. What can say, opposites do attract.
The ending summed up the journey of Christian and Ana. It was the happy ever after that I have been wanting to happen. Christian loosened up and made amends with his past by looking forward to a future with Ana. It is so heartwarming to think that an unconditional love can heal wounds and bring a person anew. In order to move on, what’s in the past should be laid to rest and do what needs to be done rightfully at the present.
Notwithstanding the myriad erotic scenes in the book, I don’t doubt that the book can also be badly criticized and badly reviewed based on its story line. But please answer why all the hype? And the turning it into a movie? Maybe the book sales? Whatever it is, I’m happy that it was considered. I just hope that the movie makers will not fail me as a reader. I am expecting a quite wholesome movie because, after all, it is a love story.
The whole time I was reading the books, I can’t help but relate the song Colourblind by Darius Campbell to their story. I always took Christian and Ana to have caught each other unguarded for love. Christian, to Ana’s wit and defiance and Ana, to Christian’s extremely dark lonely past despite his being on top of the world. They ran before they learned how to walk, so they always tripped over.
Again, this is just me and my thoughts. Looking forward to watch Fifty Shades on a Valentine’s Day.
Long before I knew time, conflicts with my relatives and family existed. It was, I think, handed down from generations that were too proud and unforgiving. Today, having witnessed a very stunning confrontation between my two aunts, I tried to recollect the same instances in the past as far as my memory can serve me; the same shallow reasons, the same immaturity. To think, they were already in their 60’s. The pain and the grudge were passed on to their children, making the younger generation hate each other again.
The cycle won’t break and I wonder, maybe they are happy of what’s been happening; are these, for them, stress busters or something? I can only laugh at the idea of while they are raising their voices and fight one another like children lowers their blood pressure. Yes, it’s true that if you let your suppressed feelings go, it will make you feel better and its healthy. But, the truth of the matter is, while you are punching words at your own brother or sister, you are deliberately hurting them in the process. You are creating a much bigger problem. Wounds can heal, but the words that pierced like a knife will be forever remembered. Same way that I don’t believe in the saying, “Forgive and forget”. I might just love the 5SOS song “Amnesia” if it can be done in any situation. 🙂
The experience helped me deal with my own brothers and sister. In my very first personal blog about family, I wrote about my relationship with my younger sister. As an elder sibling, I tend to analyze what goes around my sister’s brainy brain, why we always have conflicting views and opinions and eventually fight over nonsense things. I think I already figured some of them because we fight so rarely now, unlike before; a little friction with little words always generates really large fires that sometimes I would really want to punch her in the face (I’ve never done that, but I think I would love to haha!).
The realizations came when I saw my two aunts fighting. When me and my little sister grows old, I don’t want us to be like my two aunts. Having said that, I just would like to point out some things that siblings fell prey to and fight over. I may or may not have experienced some of these reasons, but I am preparing myself to overcome when the situation sits.
Here are 3 obvious reasons why I think siblings fight and how to overcome them:
1.) Favoritism by parents – I only have a daughter and she has all my attention. I cannot relate to this as a parent, but as a daughter, I think I can manage a few thoughts. I am second from the eldest; I have an older brother that is only a year ahead of me. I remember, way back as a freshman in college, we were required to speak one on one with the University Guidance Counselor. The first question she asked me straight-faced was, “Do you oftentimes feel insecure?” I cannot think of a clear answer so I just smiled and asked her back,”Why?”. She told me about the psychology of a second child, always the second best, always in the shadow of the eldest. Much more that my age gap with my brother is only a little more than a year, she said that the it’s possible that while we were still babies, I might not have gotten the same special attention as the eldest offspring received. True enough, I was raised with a nanny.
The possibility of insecurities in children that can sprung from favoritism of parents is eminent but can be mended. In my case, I was not as insecure as can be perceived from a child that lacked attention because I always think of beautiful things; as I am a woman of all sorts, I always do a lot of diverting fruitful activities. I don’t mind being always the second best, it is good enough for me already. The bottom line is, I have always loved my older brother; no reason to feel hate or anything.
But, in some families, favoritism makes one good reason siblings fight.
2.) Sibling Rivalry – We are four children in the family and this problem can come up any time. I personally don’t like the idea of sibling rivalry; it’s about jealousy, competition, and animosity between brothers and sisters. It’s not a healthy competition. Often times, it is the parents that are hurt in the end. From my personal experience, I cannot cite a concrete example of a sibling rivalry in our family. From my own point of view, I don’t remember being jealous or being competitive with my other siblings. The secret lies in happy thoughts. Whatever my brothers and sister achieve, I was always happy for them; no sibling rivalry.
3.) Inheritance – Ah, this is one thing I can not relate first hand. Just knew a lot of family problems that rooted from it. I remember this very touching Filipino movie entitled “Tanging Yaman“. It is a story of a very broken family; full of hatred and jealousy of siblings to the point of arguing and scrambling over to inherit the properties of their parents. This problem exists in most families in all races, except for an only child of course. That is the saddest thing; sacrificing relationships over material things.
I just think that one solution to this problem is for the parents to talk to their children about these things early. It might sound so awkward, really; when the parents are still living and they talk about how to divide their properties equally, if there’s anything to divide (haha). That is the most proactive way to stop the problem from ever surfacing.
Well, those are my top three. There may be a lot more reasons for siblings to fight for, but in the end, I would like to believe that for whatever reasons siblings fight, at the end of the day, brothers and sisters should never fail to reconcile. Family will always be family, no matter what.
I hope I made clear why I put the 5SOS Song “Amnesia” on top of this blog (haha). Well, forgetting the cause of pain can make difficult things easier to do, like “forgiving”. 🙂
I had the time of my life when I went for a 2-week vacation to see my husband in Sydney, Australia last month. I was really excited to have a really amazing adventure in the Land Down Under!
Since it’s my first out-of-the country travel and alone, I was not familiar with the process. During my assessment in the Immigration Section at the Philippine Airport, the Officer had no questions, she just looked at me and confirmed my picture in the passport and stamped something on my passport. Instead of me proceeding forward past the Officer, I turned back and walked away. I was so embarrassed when they called my name aloud and asked me where I was going; they instructed, again aloud, that I was suppose to proceed past the Officer to wait for plane boarding! The people were staring at me and butterflies start to swarm my stomach, I just laughed a little and told them, “Forgive the first timer”. Whew! 🙂
From Manila, Philippines, it took me a tiring 9-hour flight. Just so glad that I had no seatmate in the plane; I pulled the armrest between the seats up and slept on it just like a bed. I stretched and yawn and yawn, but could not get myself to sleep. I had been dreaming of this vacation for a long time, that even the most tiring flight can’t get me to sleep. Maybe my subconscious was telling me not sleep because I might wake up and realize that everything was just a dream (haha). Anyway, it was a fun ride; looking forward to reunite with my hubby who is working in Sydney.
So this is Sydney. One of the places I can only read about in books. It was really a lot different from where I live; crispy cold, clean and a lot of amazingly beautiful people. On top of that, I experienced my first taste of winter! (it’s okey without the snow) 🙂
My husband prepared to buy me winter clothes. While we were shopping, I just could not stop converting the prices to Philippine Peso! It was amazingly stressful (haha). The prices converted to Peso were way too big for me already (I’m a cheap shopper, that’s why. haha!) My husband just kept explaining that the price of the goods are as normal as they can get, “We are in Australia, for heaven sake. What can you expect.” In the end, I had the most expensive shopping spree ever; thank you, hubby. 🙂
We went to downtown Sydney and just walked and walked and walked until sundown. Such a lovely city. We went to Hyde Park, St. Mary’s Cathedral, and The Australian Museum featuring Dinosaurs. Of course, how can I miss the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge; we went to it during sunset and I enjoyed it’s beauty in reality. Also went to Darling Harbor and got mesmerized by the amazing city lights at night. I figured hundreds of restaurants, cafes, and bars. And the food, yes the food! I had to taste what’s not in my country. I started with the Fish and Chips with vegetable salad; an introduction to a no-rice diet. Everyone I see were happy and speaking in a very impressive accent (this is just for me 🙂 ) The night is so young in Sydney, and the people looked like they just got started.
My husband bought us a 5-attractions tickets to see Madame Tussauds creations, Sea Life and Wildlife Museums, and the Sydney Tower Eye where we experienced looking the whole of Sydney from the highest point at the breathtaking Skywalk. The Luna Park at Milson’s Point was full of children and those young at heart; the only place I visited crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
I felt the heat of the sun on winter at Watson’s Bay and the world-renowned Bondi Beach. The two sites were quite near to each other, so we swept visiting them in half a day. We also went to Manly Beach and bought souvenirs.
While roaming to and fro the city, the most mesmerizing building I’ve seen was the Queen Victoria Building; such intricately built historical structure turned into a modern Mall. All of the buildings and houses there were historical and were made of winter-ready and very sturdy materials-bricks. I cannot imagine having homes like those here in my tropical country, aside of course for those who can afford air condition units.
We toured the Taronga Zoological Zoo for one day. It was the biggest zoo I’ve been to. Saw for the first time the Tasmanian Devil; they don’t look devilish after all. 🙂 Also saw kangaroos, but I was a bit disappointed not to have the chance to see a kangaroo with a baby in the pocket.
All in all, my experience was the best so far. I could never have done all these things without my partner-in-crime for life, my ever dearest husband. 🙂
Wow, its been a while since I wrote something interesting (at least, for me 🙂 ). But lately, I experienced something interesting and find it too intriguing not to write about.
I am two weeks shy from my scheduled vacation to Sydney, Australia, so I am busy preparing my documents for a smooth passage in the Immigration Office on my flight date. My first ever out-of-the-country travel. One of the documents was the N.B.I. (National Bureau of Investigation) Clearance (Philippines’ NBI is the counterpart of U.S.A’s FBI). To acquire the clearance, I went to the NBI Office last June 16 and applied for it.
My name was called after 5 hours and a half to have my picture and my biometrics taken. Supposedly, after that, if a person doesn’t have criminal or derogatory records, one can immediately get the clearance. The sad thing is, I was advised to come back after 5 days to get my clearance because my name got “hit” when they scanned it against their records of persons with criminal records.
Oh gosh, someone with name same as mine is on the “wanted” list. I told the office,” it’s definitely not me!” 🙂 I don’t have to explain further, I just smiled and walked away thinking that along with the 90 million population of my country, someone shared my name but not my “law-abiding citizen” disposition.
I came back on the 5th day. I waited for roughly 30 minutes, anxious but confident to get the clearance. And my name was called at the releasing area.
With my experience, I can’t help but think and feel for those people whose identity were taken mistakenly as notorious. Sometimes, the worst thing happens, I hear news of persons killed by “riding in tandem vigilantes” but close friends and relatives of the victim would come shocked and disdainful. They would tell stories of how much of a good man the victim was; swearing that the victim never had a bad trait on every strand of his hair. It’s not fair, right?
The city where I live probably had the most cases of vigilantism in the Philippines. We call them the Davao Death Squad. Our City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte was the alleged mastermind of the summary executions and was even investigated by the Human Rights Group and the Department of Justice, but was never proven. Our City Mayor would just laugh at it and openly agrees to the summary executions, citing that the victims were trashes to the society; drug addicts and drug traffickers.
Sometimes, I think of these things as beneficial for me and my family. Nobody would dare do bad things anymore. I can walk around the city at night time feeling safe and protected from lawless elements. But when I got “hit” during the clearance, I feel that anybody can be a victim, even me or someone from my family. My conscience is clear; I have been a law-abiding citizen since birth. But what if I will be mistaken for somebody with a really, really bad record?
Last May 19, 2014, I had the first chance of a lifetime to travel by land one of the most dangerous places in the Philippines, or so they say; the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao.
We departed from Davao City at 1:00 P.M. I was seated on the passenger seat next to the driver. Mr. Driver asked me if I have any issue regarding speed limit, sighting that he intends to drive at an average of 130kph. I immediately asked why and he told me that there are areas along the way that are very critical after sunset; critical because the residents living around that certain area make “kidnapping” a way of living. After hearing his reason, I immediately said “no” (of course 🙂 ). So, the ultimate goal is to arrive to our destination before the sun sets. I had mixed emotions; thrilled and excited, but at the same time, worried. It was my very first road trip to the infamous home of terrorists in the island of Mindanao, Philippines.
During the first hour, I was asleep; I was still confident because we are still within the boundary of the southern part of Davao Region. When we passed by the Municipality of Bansalan, that’s when I was so wide awake and all my senses activated. I want to witness every inch of the road less traveled by. Mr. Driver was very calm and careful at his 130kph speed, but I can see his urgency to come past the noted areas. The roads are well-cemented; a good sign of progress, but the houses along the way are mostly shabby. The people we passed by looked at us with discerning eyes.
I can observe tarpaulin prints and paint posts saying proudly “Congratulations! Bangsamoro Government” pertaining to the newly signed comprehensive peace agreement between the President of the Republic of the Philippines and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) last March 27, 2014, that gave them sovereignty over their ancestral lands in exchange for deactivation of rebel forces by the MILF. I can feel tension everywhere, with frequent sightings of War tanks at every AFP (Philippine Army) checkpoints.
When we arrived at our destination, one of the Substations of the company I work for, I still never felt safe because the Security Guards and the Staff were said to be members and relatives of the MILF. We had to be careful of what we say and do around the place. Right in front of the gate of the Substation was said to be the newly built Office Building of the MILFs.
I also got the chance to see where the Maguindanao Massacre took place in November 2009; the municipality of Shariff Aguak. It is also known as the “Ampatuan Massacre” because the alleged mastermind is one of the members of one of the most powerful Muslim Political clans in Mindanao, Andal Ampatuan, Jr. The victims were composed of the wife of the Ampatuans’ political rival, Toto Mangudadato, and her sisters, journalists, lawyers, and civilians mistaken as part of the convoy; a total of 58 casualties, kidnapped, brutally killed and buried in a mass grave.
I also got to see the castle-like residence of the Ampatuans surrounded with small houses made of dilapidated bamboo matting; a very extreme manifestation of uneven distribution of wealth and corruption. It was said that the small houses are home to the Ampatuans’ personal army and guards.
On the lighter side, I was so amazed at the beautiful Mosques. It was my first time to see Mosques at almost every kilometer interval since we entered the Muslim Region. There was this particular Mosque somewhere in Datu Saudi Ampatuan, Maguindanao that really caught me; it was like a castle in a Disney movie; so pink and so beautiful. It is situated more or less 500 meters away from the road. I cannot get close enough to take pictures; just a snap from our running vehicle, such a shame I can’t stop over and rejoice in its beauty. The mosque is the one over the shabby hut.
When we got a few more kilometers away from the critical areas, me and my colleagues stopped to breathe fresh air and taste the sweet water melon abundant in the place called “Esperanza”. It was the safest place that we’ve ever came across with; the inhabitants were mostly ilonggos and ilokanos.
Further down south, we passed by the Provincial Capitol of Sultan Kudarat; a very grandiose mosque-like building located at Isulan, North Cotabato. The travel was already relaxing as we were nearing Tacurong City; a part of North Cotabato with a more liberal Government because majority of the residents are Christians.
My road trip experience was really very interesting. Having had close encounters with members of one of the most notorious rebel groups in the Philippines, and around the World as well, was very amusing for me. I felt happy and fearful all at the same time. The experience could have me broken, but I loved the hype and the risk.
I am home now, safe and sound, writing this experience.
This is my 100th impromptu post, hoping to cover a significant subject for an important milestone of my blogging endeavor. 100 is just a number, but everything about it sounds so centennial (?), and for my 100th post, I would like to tell how my first week with my new job went.
I’ve been very busy this past week as I have just began a new career path; I got my dream job. It has different working hours and I love it. For the past 11 years, I am working on shifts including graveyard shifts whole year round even on holidays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Last week was the first time I worked a day job on regular work days (Monday-Friday). How’s that for a start, right? 🙂 I have my own Office chair and desk, my own corner. I cannot be more happier when I can already have time for my daughter on a regular basis. I patiently waited for this to happen 3 years ago, even thought of resigning when I sometimes lose hope. But with steadfast prayers, my dream became a reality.
But even if it is my dream job, I expect it to be worse than my previous job in terms of workload. It came with a bigger responsibility and higher accountability; the high price of dreams served on a silver platter.
My first days at work was okay; a few bumps on the road while trying to get the feel of the people around and adjusting to the new environment. My first struggle was my body clock adjusting to the new cycle; I feel sleepy on mornings, but I am fighting it by drinking lots of water and peeing every now and then. 🙂
With my job before, there were only few people around my station; three is already a crowd, but now in my new office, there are at least 25 people with 25 different personalities and attitude. Everyday was a roller coaster ride and everybody minds everybody; I am not surprised when I hear gossips about everybody from time to time. I just laugh when I hear one unintentionally, but sometimes when the gossip is so juicy, I cannot resist asking about it. (haha)
My new duties and responsibilities were heavier than I thought at first; but I am now more challenged and inspired to work hard. I think of it as a stepping stone to a better career; that lightens everything and made me prepared for the worst days yet to come, including a terrorist boss (haha).
All in all, what I expect for my first 5 days were all bits of my expectations and more. It was beautiful, challenging, and it is all I ever wanted.
I am the green-eyed lady today and I want all my hubby’s time. He is miles away from me working and I can’t do anything much about my mood today. Maybe it’s just the time of the month for me. Hope to get over this and start afresh tomorrow morning.
Health buffs and weight loss challengers alike would always look at the calories count in their food. I, for one, am very conscious now if I am eating only the enough calories I can burn without having to do a lot of exercises. I am such a lazy couch potato! (haha)
Today marks the 77th year of celebration of my home, Davao City, as it became a city in March 16, 1936.
Local residents and tourists alike would come to the main streets of the city to witness the festivities; float parade of different ethnic tribes, participating schools, business companies, and other socio-economic groups that made up the flourishing mesh of then and now Davao. Earlier this week, our City Mayor announced that thousands of police and military forces in uniform and in plain clothes will be deployed to the streets to give maximum security to the public; that enforces one of our city’s nicknames:” The Safest place in the Philippines”. But, as much as I wanted to see the actual buzz and smiles of the metro downtown, I am only watching the live coverage on television because I am at work.
Nevertheless, I look forward to get home after work to taste all the tropical fruits my sister will bring home from the trade fairs; a collection of all the mouth-watering fruits in abundance and the least of their prices during this time of the year here in Davao City.
A week ago, I went to Bangkerohan Public Market; it is where all farmers and growers of fruits and vegetables in the Davao region and nearby provinces would bring all their harvests and sell at wholesale prices. So, it is one of the favorite destinations of local residents, and tourists even, to buy fruits at the most haggled prices. I took some pictures of some of my favorite fruits during my visit.
My father died almost 2 years ago because of multiple organ failures but his memory lived in me. His last 4 years was a very enduring journey for our family, especially for my mother who became his personal caregiver. My father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease on August of 2008. Initially, his doctor gave him maintenance medications to slow the progress of the symptoms, but in a year’s time, the symptoms greatly progressed.
Due to desperation, aside from medical treatments, we also opted to consult quack doctors, acupuncturists, herbalists, and everything else related to disease treatment but to no avail. We always go back to his doctor for additional dosage of the same medicines. New symptoms emerged and the doctor kept on adding new medicines, treating one symptom after another. The last doctor we consulted gave us a dead-end; he said that my father acquired the illness through his occupation – he was chemically poisoned. Being a seafarer for 36 years working at a lower deck of an international tanker ship, it was a no-brainer how my father got his disorder. It was not only Parkinson’s Disease, it was a lot, lot more.
During the first 2 years, his motor skills gradually declined; he can barely walk and can not spoon-feed himself anymore. Notwithstanding his 90-kg physique, we had to carry him wherever he needs to go. The most crucial part that happens every single day was his going to the comfort room when he needs to go; it was a true labor of love that my mother had to go through. My mother is the extension of his body; she did all (as in, all) things for him. My mother bathed him, fed him, scratched all the itch for him, even picked the smallest food particle in his mouth. When my father sleeps, she had to wake up in the middle of the night just to move him in a different position. At times, I find it very scourging and agonizing; my mother’s patience was tested by fire. It was the marriage vows in skin and bones, “in sickness and in health“.
Came the time when the involuntary responses of his body did not function anymore; when my father blinks, his eyes won’t open anymore. His body functions just dropped all together. It tormented me to watch him slowly eaten by his illness. He only communicated with his eyes, nothing else. He looks at me and I see thousands of things he wanted to tell me; that pained me more than anything. I would just cry where he can’t see me.
During these trying times, nothing beats the support that a family can give. My father may not have said anything in his last breath, but deep in my heart I know he wanted to say thank you.
The memory of my father was relived when I came across a very touching story of a family who had gone through the same battling process with chemical poisons, but became successful. The story of Heather Von St. James.
Heather Von St. James was diagnosed with a rare cancer called Mesothelioma in 2005 just after her daughter Lily was born. It is a cancer caused due to her exposure to asbestos when she was a child. After she was diagnosed, she was given only 15 months to live, but she faced all her fears and had her lung removed. Until today she is cancer-free and very active in promoting awareness of the illness. Hers is a very inspiring story of hope, courage, and survival with the love and full support of her family, most especially her husband Cameron.
Her successful surgery was nicknamed “Lung Leavin’ Day” by her sister and they celebrated it every 2nd of February since then. It is now a growing community of what began as a family event in their backyard where they write all their fears in a plate and smash the plates into the fire. I haven’t tried that but I would really love to smash all my fears into something. I salute the couple for a wonderful celebration of life and love.
The “Lung Leavin’ Day” is a very beautiful commemoration to face all our fears and fight them all. To participate in the event, please click this link.
To want a perfect marriage is a perilous voyage and I know everyone wanted to share the journey with a real keeper. Mr. Right must show at least little signs of the list of should-be(s) below:
1.) Mr. Right should be seriously funny. It would be a journey less of a weight if there are more happy moments than sad. We,women, are more inclined to mood swings; a valid excuse for an intentional tantrum during a monthly agony. 🙂 During these trying times, Mr. Right has to have a full-packed humor to send his girl laughing and change moods from bad to good.
2.) Mr. Right should be unbelievably honest. Women have an extraordinary gift of intuition; we know when our man tells the truth or when he lies. I don’t need to expound on this, but might I tell every women to just follow their instincts. I did it myself. 🙂 Another perspective on this is that your man must tell you truthful comments on things he might find not good on you even if it hurts; for improvement.
3.) Mr. Right should be incredibly patient. We, women, always want to look good all the time and it is a very time-consuming activity. One way to tell a patient man would be during these moments. Men find these things very boring stuffs, but if your man just lets you take your time, then you got yourself a candidate – Unless, unless he’s the one who wants to do your make-up. That’s another thing! haha 🙂
4.) Mr. Right should be voraciously indulging. Oh wow, this one I love to look out for! He has to give anything I want. 🙂 Kidding aside, what I mean with this is that Mr. Right has to be your pillar of strength; he has to be someone who pushes you to give all your best in everything you do – at work, at home. He has to inspire you to do beautiful things. It really feels good to know that someone is always at your back when you need a tap of recognition or when you need someone to fall back on in times of failure and never judges you for it.
5.) Mr. Right should be undeniably faithful. And loyal, and pledges his total allegiance to you. If at any point in your relationship, you find moments where something fishy is going on, never find excuse to discount these moments; just because you love your man, you play blind and deaf to his wrongdoings. You will surely suffer big later. It would really, really hurt if you’ve already invested all your trust and love on an infidel.
6.) Mr. Right should be extremely loving. This should have been on the list first and foremost, but I meant to put this last as it is the summation of the list. Every item above means love. If he makes you laugh, if he is truthful in everything, if he is patient with you, if he inspires you to do good all the time, and if you feel he is totally faithful, then you got yourself a real keeper! 🙂 He loves you in every meaning of the word. 🙂
I might sound like a dependable love adviser and all – but, these are all the descriptions of my husband (haha). As I was going through the list, I was thinking every inch of how I see my other half. I found it so easy to make love advises after all. 🙂
Couples across all ages will never have a healthy relationship until they argue or fight. Experience tells me that having petty to big fights make couples learn from each other more; the sweet nothings were really nothing compared to what can be learned from being at one’s worst during a fight. It is during these hurdles that they can realize how to make self-adjustments to make the relationship work or not at all.
During these trying times of testing love by fire, I found that a silent treatment is always the best remedy for any quarrels; it is more deafening than the shouts and more painful than actually hitting one another physically. A cold war that can go on for days and weeks or longer can badly hurt; it can tear a heart and shatter a soul. It can blow a mind for trying to decipher which one of the thousand words is meant by the silence.
When a couple quarrels, surely the one with the most reasons to get mad will feel self-pity and will start to nag; will shout like a blow of a bomb. The accused, more likely, will never humble his self and will never ask for forgiveness; will hear the shouts like being hit a bomb. They will just hurt each other more and might just say things not supposed to be said. But when one of them succumbs to silence – never acknowledging anything, the other can go on guessing forever – that is when it really, really hurts.
“Just say something, please!”
“Punch me all you want, break me if need be…Just please talk to me!”
“With your silence, you are killing me……..!”
Are these phrases familiar? That’s how silent treatment works; it has the makings of a deadly weapon.
But it being deadly as I said it was, I can still say that it has more positive effects than negative. Quarrels can be very exhausting; physically, emotionally, mentally, etc. Being silent at these times will be the most profound way of settling issues; breathing in and breathing out and not saying anything clears the mind. It lets one think and weighs things. Solutions to problems are clearer in silence.
Silence is also an indication of maturity and a strong character under pressure; setting aside the urge to nag and rant and shout in frustration. It gives the impression that one is willing to listen. It paves the way to miss and long for a loved one; a realization that can only be brought by not communicating.
In silence, words are clearer and more pronounced; the language of the heart can be heard. Hence, there is the greater chance of understanding and reconciliation.
Valentine’s Day is one of the most anticipated holiday around the world; though not an official holiday, Christians and maybe non-Christians around the world would always look forward to celebrate it with loved ones. The day was meant to revere the feast St. Valentine; with all its religious history. But through time, the observance had evolved from being spiritual to romantic.
Actually, I have never come across how to properly observe the day but one thing I’m sure, it all showed that people around the world are always jovial on all things related to love. Almost all days of the Gregorian Calendar are Feast days of Saints, but have we all noticed that only Valentine’s day is commercially accepted around the world; but second only to Christmas Day, of course. February is always known as the Love Month.
Here in the Philippines, we call it “Araw ng mga Puso” (Day of Hearts). As much as the purpose of the celebration is concerned, I can understand the appalling anticipation but not the material spending; the price of flowers gradually shoots up as early as a week before and the highest on the 14th, the valentine promotions posted across almost all inns were among other things. It has become a fad and, most of the time, so overwhelming that we forget the true meaning.
I remember one particular February 14, I was going home from work riding a public utility vehicle. Beside me was an old man, he was holding in his hand a bougainvilla flower. It is a flower of a plant that can be found just about anywhere in our place; it’s as free as it can get. I never asked him, though, for whom he will give the flowers but I am certain it was for his wife. He was moving the flowers to protect it from being smashed by the other passengers coming in. My heart really melted.
We all have different ways of expressing our love; we can spend all we want or not spend at all. My husband, for one never give me roses or gifts; I was already used to it. I would sometimes tell him that he’s not sweet and he’d just answer me, “I gave everything for you to oversee the finances, so – buy everything you want“. Funny I don’t find it sarcastic at all; we’ll just laugh about it. 🙂 I got the message; we don’t need V-day to remind us to express our love for one another because we love each other every single day. 🙂
However we want to celebrate V-day, festive or simple, it is the true love for one another that counts most; not the monetary value of the tangible gifts that expire. Everyday is Valentine’s Day.
First of all, this is just me and no one else’s opinion. I might have a similar opinion with anyone but I’d like to expound on why I come up my own thoughts on the issue.
The Hong Kong Government recently cancelled the visa-free privilege of Philippine Government Officials and Diplomats. This was I think following the Philippine President’s statement to New York Times days ago that the Philippine Government still will not apologize to Hong Kong on the tragic hostage-taking incident in Manila in 2010 that took the lives of 8 Hong Kong nationals; citing that the same incident happened in China where a Philippine tourist also died in Beijing, China last year in which Chinese Police declared as a “terrorist attack”. It was known that no compensation was ever offered to appease the grieving Filipino family whereas the Philippine Government extended the sincerest sympathy and monetary support and assistance to the survivors of the hostage-taking and reached out to their families in China.
Another Philippines-China issue is the territorial claims of both countries on the islands at the West Philippine Sea; the Scarborough Shoal and some of the Spratly Islands which both are approximately within the Philippine exclusive economic zone. These islands were both known to have very rich natural resources; natural gas, minerals, and fishes.
What I know as a layman is only the tip of the iceberg; I see it safe to say that these arguments were drawn from more deep-seated issues that which I do not know more of and I am as much as disinterested to know. But judging to where things are going- I say everybody is going down south; a lose-lose situation.
I take part in the chaos as a 101% Filipino living in the island of Mindanao, grew up with deep-rooted love for country and countrymen. But I think that whether being a Chinese or a Filipino does not define our real persons. We are all human beings sharing one world, divided only by the cultures, beliefs, ideology, color, so on and so forth. But have we realized that we are all the same human beings with the capital P – Pride?
On the tragic death of Hong Kong nationals while on tour here in the Philippines in 2010, we Filipinos were always sorry for them then and now. Nobody wanted it to happen. I would also like to believe that some Chinese had also felt sorry, may not even be particularly for the Filipino who got killed, but the lose of life itself. Our true defining moment as human beings who can think, feel, and reason is our capability to overcome indifference in the midst of differences.
Our government may not have issued a formal apology but that does not represent us all and does not mean that we could not care less. Please believe that we empathize with all the the families on their loss.
On the complicated claims of territories, we all should be ashamed. Human beings were empowered to rule over all things on Earth, not own them particularly. There is definitely no Registration of Land Titles in heaven; so what are we all fighting for? We are all greedy. We are fighting the Game of Thrones. We just don’t realize that the more we succumb to our greed, the more we lose ourselves and end up taking sides and creating allies and fight one another; kill one another even. We are blinded of the thought that we are fighting for something that is rightfully ours when in truth, nothing is really ours. Nobody owns Earth and all of these except the Creator.
This war on territorial claims has long been existent even before man can write history; it is an animal instinct that human beings never outgrew. It’s just a shame how science can explain physical human evolution but never the evolution of morals; the same hatred Cain had for Abel.
I am naive on a lot of things and may be criticized of how simply I take these serious international issues, but I’d like to add that at the end of the day, we all are just pilgrims here on earth; we are all travelers bound for God’s promise. Nobody is indispensable, nobody is immortal. Our lifespan is getting shorter by seconds. Let me reiterate- by seconds. Would it be wonderful if the legacy we left for people to remember us is how made other people’s lives better?
We can’t change the past, but we can pave way for a new future. Let the belief that past can and will repeat itself be buried; it was, in the first place, never repeated because it was only handed down to generations after generations to still claim territories. The hatred that was generated became the excuse to add insult to any injuries; in this case the Hong Kong nationals and the Filipino tourist who died. There was always the excuse to never say sorry; exacerbating the wounded pride.
“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. – A. E Wiggins, Ender’s Game
I just took a moment to contemplate after watching the movie “Ender’s Game”. It was about a young boy genius that led a battle for the total destruction of the Earth’s supposed alien enemies-the Formics, and later realized that the enemy was not an enemy at all. The end part was a very good turning point where the young commander went out of his way to help the Formics rebuild a new colony.
I just hope we don’t end up annihilating everybody like in the movie just for the sake of fighting to achieve sovereignity over lifeless lands.
I’m all ranting and had not realized I am almost a thousand words and still way unfinished. I did not plan to write this much; but a thousand words can not suffice to paint my message across….Actually, I think it can – even in less than 10 words.
A day before this week’s Weekly Writing Challenge ends, I found a very timely inspiration. Just 20 minutes ago, a high school classmate and friend tagged me on a picture on Facebook of friendship letters her classmates (including me) made for her before we graduated in high school in 1996 and parted ways. My heart really skipped when I read what I had to write in her book of memoirs 18 years ago; I wrote a poem! Oh my, oh my…I was poetic after all, hahaha. I forgot that part of me. I really thanked her for the reminder. 🙂
It was a poem that meant to tell her that no matter the distance and the trials and the different paths we take, and no matter how long we see each other again, she will always have a friend in me. I even translated some of it in Spanish! I never thought I had done that 18 years ago. I was such a terrifying 16 year old, I could say now! haha.
Now, the most interesting part; the one written in the upper right corner of the left page. My friend planned to be a nurse by profession; I could remember why she wanted to be a nurse. She plans to travel and work abroad as a nurse to meet Tom Cruise, yeah the actor. 🙂 And for me, I could hardly read what I wrote so I asked my friend what I wrote I dreamed to be……I want to become a….JOURNALIST! 🙂
It hit me hard. I wanted to be a journalist all along. Looking back the path I took in the last 18 years since I wrote my heart in my friend’s book, I never regretted any of it. From where I stand now, I was really meant to wear my shoes at this very moment because however late I might be, I had still lived my dream to write all the same; not being a journalist however but a blogger who inspires today. 🙂
The bell rang. My 7:20 P.M. class ended with the bell.
I was a College Student then at a reputable University in my place. I am usually on my own during my Tuesdays and Thursdays night classes; I shifted to a new Course so my former classmates-friends all had morning classes. I lived away from home; I rented a bed space in a 5-room house owned by a retired High School teacher. It’s just a 5-minute walk from the school’s gate. It is too near to pay for a public ride at a standard cost so I always walk home. I also get to save some from my meager student allowance. But above all else, I really love walking because its my time to think through my lessons of the day and plan my schedules for the next day.
I gathered my things and planned to drop by the school’s canteen to buy something to take home for dinner. I ended up buying chicken steamed buns and decided to eat them while I walk home.
I passed through the school’s gate and found my way through the dim lighted pedestrian pavement. One street light was blinking; the sodium lamp almost busted. I was burrowing my way through the dim pathway with the University wall on my right and the street on my left. When suddenly I saw a shadowy figure when I looked a front my right foot. I never saw anyone when I started walking the pavement, so, someone was lurking in the shadows and now walking behind me!
I slightly panicked; the next well-lighted area was still 25 meters away. Was he just another pedestrian? I can hear his footsteps with same pace as mine. I assumed the shadowy figure is a “he” so my instinct would instruct my system to use my most forceful adrenalin rush if something really bad happens.
I quickened my steps; almost like I’m in a Walkathon. He likewise quickened his; I can hear them. My heart pumping wild with fear. I slowly placed my steamed buns inside my bag and my hands groping for my ballpoint pen. I have never felt more confident in my life when I got hold of my ballpoint pen. My head is straight but my eyes were roaming, looking for the shadowy figure so I can tell how near or how far “he” is from me.
When I reached an intersection, I halted; the pedestrian sign was still a red. But seeing no vehicles on either sides of road, i ran. I ran as fast as I could, breaking all Traffic rules in the hope of saving my own precious life.
Then I heard a shout from behind, “Hey! Your shoe!”
“Will I turn back or continue running and endure my painful sole?”
My December 23rds in the last 30 years were trivial. I made myself believe they were for the longest time until this particular writing challenge made me remember that one ill-fated December 23rd I tried to forget.
When I was in my pre-teenage years, I used to spend Christmas with my grandparents on my father’s side. But when my grandparents came to live with the family of my father’s sister, I naturally got to spend my whole Christmas vacation with my cousins, uncle and aunt, and of course, my grandparents and a whole lot other visitors of my aunt’s.
When I was 11-years old, that particular December 23rd was supposed to be just another day to play with cousins, preparing Christmas presents and enjoying the sparklers. But I can’t remember why on that day I was left in the house with only my too old grandparents and an “uncle”. That “uncle” was a distant relative and, same as me, a visitor in the house; he is a cousin of the husband of my biological aunt. Out of respect, I call him “uncle”.
I can clearly remember, I was sitting on a bench and was thoroughly absorbed in reading “Windmill of the Gods” by Sidney Sheldon when suddenly I felt a warm palm on my back. It was running in circles and that time I felt it was meant to comfort. As a mind that befits a child, I had not thought of it as something bad or explicit. But when the hand suddenly rested on my right shoulder and crept to find the upper corner of my chest, I jerked. I totally knew where the hand will go next. My heart beat so fast that it could choke me up my throat. I quickly stood up, collected my book and walked hastily without turning to see the person who owned the hand. I knew it was “uncle”.
I went to look for my grandmother. I found her but I said nothing of the incident. I stayed with her all throughout. Fear was eating me. I feared for something I don’t know, something I can’t explain. All I knew was that he “crossed the line”. ” He was supposed to be someone I looked up to and respect, an “uncle” at that. Why would he do that…”, that question rang in my head over and over. Back then, what do I know?
At night time, I used to find bright lights so I can continue reading my book, but I chose to sit beside my grandmother even around dim lights. I remember, “uncle” would approach me and comment that my eyesight could be impaired while reading in dim lights. I just answered him, “I’m fine “, without looking at him; my head stooped down and eyes still glued on my book. I feared that if I looked at him, I’d see a monster. He really is a monster.
When it’s time to sleep, I am not sleeping; my ears were so attentive to distinguish creaking sound of doors from the ticking of the big wall clock. I was always wide awake and ready for anything, thinking that “uncle” might barge in my room and do something bad. I would just sometimes shut my eyes and pray that when I open them, I am home safely beside my mother. But it was not happening; I cried but my tears won’t fall. I was in delirium. I would just fold my legs so my chin rests on my knees and hug them so they would stop shaking. That was my fear translating physically.
When I went home a week after, I thanked God it was over. But I was already traumatized. Scarred. Sometimes, I would look out the window with so much fear and imagine “uncle” would visit me at home. I kept asking myself over and over without knowing the answer, ” What do I do? What do I do?“. The monster chasing me in my nightmares.
Now, remembering all of it, I hated myself for not fighting back. I hated myself for not telling my grandmother or anyone or any of my family. I hated myself for not punching “uncle” on his face and make his nose bleed. I hated myself for being weak. It was so emotionally, psychologically, and mentally exhausting. It was traumatic. As an 11-year old girl way back, I was so consumed with fear and shame that I never dared to tell anybody at all. It was only when I was in college that I realized I was, in a way, harassed. And it was only 10 years later that I told my mother about the incident.
Today, I really feel for the sexually harassed and abused children, more so young women. Some may have experienced what I’ve been through or worse. I was just thankful that my December 23rd was already the worst and I swear the last that I could ever experience. It opened my eyes to the reality that children, particularly young girls, are so prone of being victimized of such violence even in the comfort of their own homes and even around people they knew and respect. Their innocence is the ticket to this very eminent danger.
I have WordPress to thank for making me visit down memory lane and share my story for the world to know and be aware. As a mother of an only daughter, I caution all mothers around the world to please look out for their daughters. And they might just save a life and a future
This is my daughter Faith having fun under one of the creations of Davao City’s own World-renowned Sculpture artist Kublai Millan. This is a larger than life depiction of real life happy people from the different tribes here in Davao City. This was taken yesterday when we traveled north to visit my mother in Tagum City, Davao del Norte.
These sculptures can be seen around Davao City and nearby provinces.This particular (more or less) 20-feet creation marked the boundary of Davao City and Davao del Norte. One can also be seen at Davao City-Bukidnon road and one at Davao City-Davao del Sur road.
Kublai Millan is the only non-Italian artist whose creation was featured during the Christmas Nativity displays last December 2010 at St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican City. The former Pope Benedict XVI was really captivated by his works. The subjects of his sculptures were always the faces of ethnic peoples and trademarks of Mindanao. Will post more of his creations when I visit them.
The picture below is the whole presentation of the sculpture. Beside the happy people is the “waling-waling” flower orchids in full bloom. The waling-waling is one of most beautiful orchids in the world. As the “Queen of Flowers”, it was recently declared the Philippines’ National Flower and can only be found in the Island of Mindanao, particularly here in Davao City.
I want to avoid the Christmas rush so I decided to ran into bazaars and find gifts for my godchildren. I woke up early yesterday and went to this part of my city famous for their really great buys.
I hustled to enter one of the shops only to find out there were still few people around. I see one Chinese-speaking couple with broken English, desperately trying to negotiate a more lower price for a sleepwear. The saleslady was even more desperately trying to understand the rambling speech of the Chinese woman. They sounded they were in for a fight. Language barrier, that is. The negotiation ended up with the Chinese woman with a despondent face deciding not to buy the sleepwear and the saleslady with the look of fear of being caught by the store owner for not satisfying a customer. I could just laugh at their frustration.
From another corner was a woman fitting pairs of pants. My guess is she had been there for quite a long time already because beside her are piles and piles of pants. She looked like a princess trying on everything her eyes could see and with the saleslady giving her all the pants at her disposal. With all she fitted, I can see she had not decided what to buy just yet. She is one happy “not yet buying” shopper and the saleslady already looked irritated and annoyed. I could just see an imaginary post on the saleslady’s forehead “The Customer is always Right”. So much for the universal business motto.
I would really want to snap shots of them with my phone. Their facial expressions would really look funny.
I already bought little somethings in my bag and decided to leave the store. I walked past the cashier and turned around to look what the interesting customers were up to at that moment. The Chinese couple in another corner still in fighting mode and the undecided lady in the pants section still fitting pairs of pants. What a scene.
From: http://www.dreamstime.com
Exactly a week ago, I turned my laptop computer on and typed youtube.com to watch music videos. My attention was caught by a video window of a guy on his back, cupping in his hands the face of an attractive brunette girl with blue eyes- video title: Fifty Shades of Grey Official Trailer. Curiosity kills the cat and I clicked play. Wow! I immediately fell in love with the slow version of Crazy in Love by Beyonce.
DANDELION'S DEN 