With the deluge of period films coming out of late, I find myself fascinated once more by the formal language of British English—the idioms, the diction and simple elegance of their wordiness. Thus I write this blog is this style in my attempt to re-live such decadent times…
Mothering is an utterly astonishing experience. Seven years into this career, and I am still taken by the surprises of the profession. Case in point – a brush with a boy showing interest in my progeny. Who would have thought that I would be hovering over her like an eagle, talons out and ready to gouge his eyes at the slightest provocation?
They were at play at the Ever Ortigas branch of McDonald’s. It was never unusual that my Kimi would befriend a child or two within the hour we spend there. Oft times, she would dote on a toddler or play rough with other children her own age until she comes back to us sweating, flushed but happy. This time, the boy was paying a different kind of attention to her.
There was something in the way he stared at her. My daughter speaks fluent English with an American accent and he spoke in the vernacular, yet they seem to understand each other. He followed her about, even as she came back to me our table for a sip. He never dared come too close but he was there. Perhaps my brazen stare stopped him. That maybe just as well for I desired to instill in him the fear of a mother protecting her young. But he did have the audacity, at one point, to ask me if we went to the place everyday, to which I responded with a curt “no,” one brow raised and my face deadly serious.
Upon interrogation, my daughter admitted that she did "like" the boy though she could not remember his name, nor did she know his surname, age and place of residence. On further prodding, she confessed that he had “felt her skin on the cheek” and that she had kissed him on the cheek. My feathers were promptly ruffled. Had I the fangs…
I wasted no time thereafter. Mother and daughter had a heart-to-heart talk. Beware of boys! More especially, beware of boys who pay too much attention! He can hurt you and you will let him. There is nothing wrong with liking them, but know them enough first! Our kisses are special – not to be given to just anyone!
My husband warned me that the boy was nearby, to which I responded, “Good! Let him be scared of me.”
I may laugh at this account in the future. Right now, I have this burning desire to keep my only daughter in an island of Amazons – where men are shown their place and kept at bay, and the women lay the rules of engagement.
Men – I have a mouthful to say about them, most of which will be considered derogatory, given my experience. This being a public journal, I shall reserve these comments to myself.
=)K
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Gee... I'm a Dumbledore...
 | You scored as Albus Dumbledore. Strong and powerful you admirably defend your world and your charges against those who would seek to harm them. However sometimes you can fail to do what you must because you care too much to cause suffering.
Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...? created with QuizFarm.com |
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Back from Baguio...again
We went up to the summer capital over the weekend, courtesy of my officemate, Francis who drove us there and had us stay at his aunt's place too.
Kimi wasn't the only kid in the group this time. We also had Kiana Azurin-- a bubbly 2-year old who can speak her mind in fluent English. Kiana is home-schooled by mom, Queti, while dad, Ronnie (of the RPN-9 news fame), works the night shift with Francis and I at Branders.
They had fun, of course... though we had only one-and-a-half days to really go around and enjoy the place.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Welcome, Death
a friend of mine posted his wishes for arrangements for when he dies. most people would find it morbid but i find it quite practical. so, here is mine...
people die. it's a fact. as my friend bf, Alistair Israel, had said, we are all dying and we started dying the day we were born. so, barring the immortality afforded to the gods and goddesses, here are my wishes:
i want no wake with a coffin and viewing. i want people to remember me alive, not some heavily made-up corpse wearing a sunday dress.
i want to be cremated. the urn, which i will make myself or have someone make especially for me, will be the one on "display."
the wake will take no longer than 3 days. those from abroad who wish to join the funeral can simply send the money instead. i'm sure the family i leave behind will find good use for it. the mourning is for the living. this kind of help will perk them up more than a couple of pats on the back and compassionate looks.
flowers? they're nice, but not necessary. if people feel they will lighten the mood, by all means, please! otherwise, spend the money on my baby.
frankly, even if the church says Catholics shouldn't their ashes scattered, I still want my ashes scattered, out at sea or at a lush greenery somewhere. those who want to keep a piece of me can keep a small bag of my ashes though, frankly, i don't know what good that'll do.
as for my precious CD collection... it's the only legacy I can leave my baby girl. may she find them useful especially in times of need. (Hunny, you can sell them if you have to, those ones with dedications and the ones that are hard enough to find should sell for a lot when you need the cash.)
and, of course, my books... they go to a library or book exchange program or a local public high school.
finally, my writings: the poetry and short stories will go into a collection to be published posthumously, not for sale, but as gifts to the people who care to read them. i might do the production myself before i kick the can.
sounds overly practical and cold? probably. honestly now, it's my will and testament... i call the shots on this one.
okay, for a little sentimentality, here's a little final message i'd like for that special person in my life-- you know who you are:
. i love you. i've made mistakes in my life that hurt you and i'm sorry.
. this death is my escape from the life wherein i'd caused that pain.
. so live now. move on. and make the most of what you have without me.
. while i basked in the night, you were my sunshine. goodbye, my love.
... that's it. no more mush.
by the way, happy valentine's! *grin*
=)K
people die. it's a fact. as my friend bf, Alistair Israel, had said, we are all dying and we started dying the day we were born. so, barring the immortality afforded to the gods and goddesses, here are my wishes:
i want no wake with a coffin and viewing. i want people to remember me alive, not some heavily made-up corpse wearing a sunday dress.
i want to be cremated. the urn, which i will make myself or have someone make especially for me, will be the one on "display."
the wake will take no longer than 3 days. those from abroad who wish to join the funeral can simply send the money instead. i'm sure the family i leave behind will find good use for it. the mourning is for the living. this kind of help will perk them up more than a couple of pats on the back and compassionate looks.
flowers? they're nice, but not necessary. if people feel they will lighten the mood, by all means, please! otherwise, spend the money on my baby.
frankly, even if the church says Catholics shouldn't their ashes scattered, I still want my ashes scattered, out at sea or at a lush greenery somewhere. those who want to keep a piece of me can keep a small bag of my ashes though, frankly, i don't know what good that'll do.
as for my precious CD collection... it's the only legacy I can leave my baby girl. may she find them useful especially in times of need. (Hunny, you can sell them if you have to, those ones with dedications and the ones that are hard enough to find should sell for a lot when you need the cash.)
and, of course, my books... they go to a library or book exchange program or a local public high school.
finally, my writings: the poetry and short stories will go into a collection to be published posthumously, not for sale, but as gifts to the people who care to read them. i might do the production myself before i kick the can.
sounds overly practical and cold? probably. honestly now, it's my will and testament... i call the shots on this one.
okay, for a little sentimentality, here's a little final message i'd like for that special person in my life-- you know who you are:
. i love you. i've made mistakes in my life that hurt you and i'm sorry.
. this death is my escape from the life wherein i'd caused that pain.
. so live now. move on. and make the most of what you have without me.
. while i basked in the night, you were my sunshine. goodbye, my love.
... that's it. no more mush.
by the way, happy valentine's! *grin*
=)K
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