The Global Street Corner -dj-

I started out with a friendster account... I created my log in and password. I  uploaded one profile picture and logged out. Four years passed before I logged in again. Seriously, no joke.. I guess I was still contented with the good old fashioned way of meeting people - by chance, by introduction, friend of a friend, bumping into you at the market, weekend night out so on.. But honestly after being here a while I wonder if I would go on date without checking your profile, read a few blogs and maybe chat a bit first... An hour or ten..lol..

 

This is far more futuristic.. I call it the global street corner. lol* I call it that because it's sort of the way it happens. "I'm just strolling along cyber street turn the corner and we bump into each other and meet. It would take a million years and a million street corners for this to happen on a real street corner. What's so great about a real street corner anyways? Why is that more romantic? I, for one, tend to avoid hanging out on random street corners.. And God knows even if you do see someone you find interesting walking by what on earth would say to them? I'm clueless here.. I've seen it before... A guy will approach the girl and say, "hi, hello, how are you doing?" She snaps back with, "I'm late for work and your in my way." lol.. *sigh* hehehe 

No thanks I'll just do this my way... I will even go so far as to suggest relationships that start online can be stronger and healthier then those we meet through traditional methods. It all depends on how long you spend chatting and getting to know each other on a non-sexual level.. Its more cerebral... Depending on the level of honesty, you might have a better chance of getting to the bottom of things quicker than in person. For example, you could see if you're interesting enough that your new friend stays home on a Saturday night to chat you til 3am. lol* That could say alot.. dunno. 

Now, I'm not saying I would or could wait and endure years of "getting to know you chit chat." I'm not that big a fan of the whole pleasure delayer thing, especially if we were connecting at a rapid pace. But part of me could still fantasize about us chatting and talking for months until one day we break down and say no more! After covering every topic imaginable.. becoming close and intimate in details.. Until we have nothing else to divulge or discover..

until we have talked our hearts and souls out putting everything on the table.

-What an amazing fun-silly-tearful-joyful-angry-sad-happy journey it will have been.. So, doesn't that give us a real solid foundation of under-standing each other?

"Once we have taken the spritual love affair as far as we can possibly go on the weirdwackoworldwideweb... Then the physical.."

You say, "Let's meet."

Filipina Snow White

It never fails to amaze me how Filipinas are being recognized all over the world.

Starting from Margie Moran, Gloria Romero down to the most recent Venus Raj, Danica Magpantay, Jasmine Lee, and Jessica Sanchez. 


Now, we are conquering the world of fairy tales. Now we have Snow white.


We're looking forward to seeing also the 7 dwarfs and the wicked stepmother. Let alone Prince charming.


Coming soon will be Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Rumplestillskin, Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel. :>

I am... Undefined...

Some stillness of moment thoughts, some are unwanted, others... well, undefined.


Maybe it would've been better if these glances of the ‘moment thoughts’ do not remind me so much of the 'spur of the moment meetings'. The hesitant glances on your way or the few moments you could spare to be with someone you were not supposed to see. The laughter that was there until an unexpected phone call came or you realized what time it was.


Maybe it would have been better not to have had them at all, like I said. Sometimes these thoughts go on uninterrupted, other times I wish they never started. But it always leads to me thinking back about everything, then getting angry, or just leaving me breathless and wondering how I let it go on for so long. Why did I not end everything when my tears were more than I could handle, when life treated me with such indifference that I didn't know where the real me started or the one everyone wanted me to be, began.


Change should happen, sometimes slowly... but my change has been going on for so long that I wish it would end, though I have this sinking feeling that it never will... I adapt, I cry, I scream, but I never stop changing?!


This is as much thought as I can muster without feeling that there is something missing, but too late... I know it is there, the part of me that is missing. If not missing, it is hidden.


Finding that part might be harder than finding myself… 

The Wooden Bowl

A touching story I read. Let me share this to you guys.

I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table.

But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about father," said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor."

So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl!


When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?"

Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.

That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.
I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life.."

From a Home to a House

There was a time in my life when everything was so simple. That was ages ago. I remember where members of the family gather together for Noche Buena in our simple abode, and stay at home until after the celebration of New Year.
It has been our family tradition to spend our vacation to what we usually call our ancestral house. A simple house yet compete with laughter and serenity. All of my grandparent's children were complete along with their kids, my cousins. My cousins and I are always proud to brag major prizes from games to several competitions. We are called "Pimentel's Apo" (Pimentel’s grandchildren). This tradition continued for several years. Everybody is awake around 6 o'clock in the morning, drinking coffee and eating pan-de-sal followed by a breakfast served at 8 o'clock.


This is also the time when my uncles, aunts and parents will talk about certain issues concerning the family circle and how they deal with problems that come along. It the time where each child knows each other’s favorite and mood swings. It was also the time where laughter is heard behind the doors of every room. A time where we quarrel who will wash the dishes after every meal and who will go with grandma in the garden after breakfast. And that was the time where we think where to sleep every night because the residence is too small to house everyone of us. We ended up sleeping at the small terrace where we entertain visitors and guests, no closed doors, only open windows, guarded by a tall mango tree from behind.


The house is made of wood, with a small terrace where you could see the bright moon at night. There are three bedrooms inside, a kitchen with a 10 feet long table and a dirty kitchen. Bathroom and toilet are outside the house underneath the mango tree near the pig pens. The sink is also outside the house where water never runs dry. It depicts a very hospitable house who welcomes everybody.
For fun, this was also the time where we go to the nearest river to play, swim, take a bath and wash our own clothes leaving the elders behind.

I noticed the change when I was in my junior high days. We still manage to be together same day of the year but some of them will be rushing to catch the bus the next day because of certain responsibilities and work. Then came the time when we celebrate Christmas and New Year with our own family. No uncles and aunts give you some chores. No cousins around. No games at the plaza. “Pimentel’s Apo” are not there to win the first prize for the contests anymore. Christmas is spent with friends and neighbors that you see around the corner 366 days in a year. Family reunions are just scheduled once every two years. Still the family circle is incomplete.


My college days were spent most of the time in the city. More work, more projects, more stress and less sleep. With these scenarios, we make it a point to get together and have our grandparents come to the city to celebrate Christmas with us. I remember having a picnic at Burnham Parkand we enjoy riding bikes. This practice, though, didn’t last long.
The last time that I went back to Sabangan was when my grandfather died. This was the first time in 10 years that again I saw our complete family. Not only that but also several family members whom I’m not familiar with were there. It became a grand family reunion. It was a time of grief.


I noticed a major change in the house. It became bigger; it was remodeled and became a 2-story house. It was widened. Aside from that, the small terrace is not there anymore. It became very unwelcoming. Everyone contributed for the revision of the house. Unlike our neighbors wherein their houses remain the same for the past 25 years, ours was changed from a little dome to a bigger one to accommodate each and every one of us.


As I view the house from afar, I can say that it is a house of success. It was improved but lesser people are staying inside. Lesser people will call it a home. Inside, it is a house where everyone has their own room, unlike when it was small that we sleep all together on the floor because the bed is not enough.


It’s true enough that as we progress, we become empty.