I'm a big fan of karaoke. And if you're like me, I'm guessing that you have a "trademark" song. You know, that one song you instinctively look for and warble even before your first bucket of beer arrives? Yeah, that's the one.
For some strange reason, my trademark song is "I've Never Been to Me" by Charlene. It's an old 80s song. It is the sad story of a woman of pleasure telling her tale to a downtrodden housewife...a jaded soul rolling in wealth and "fabulosity", yet longs for her one true love. It's a poignant story of loneliness amidst wordly pleasures and wealth.
"Hey lady, you lady
Cursing at your life
You're a discontented mother
And a regimented wife.
I've no doubt you dream about
The things you never do,
But I wish someone had talked to me
Like I wanna talk to you...
Oh, I've been to Nice
And the Isle of Greece
While I sipped champagned on a yacht.
I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo
And showed them what I've got.
I've been undressed by kings
And I've seen some things
That a woman ain't s'posed to see.
I've been to paradise,
But I've never been to me."
No, it is not my story. But it reminds me of someone I know. Let's call her Margaux. And, yes, I changed her name to protect her identity.
Margaux was my childhood friend. Nothing really special about our friendship -- we sat next to each other in grade school, traded secrets, let her copy off my homework because she was too lazy to do hers. At an early age, she got into relationships, attended parties of all the popular kids, led the campus dance troupe and generally did all those "cool" and "hip" things that popular students in school get into. We sure had a strange way of defining "cool" and "hip" back then. But she was nice.
After our elementary years, Margaux transferred to another school. An institution known equally for women of substance and women who...well, women. Apparently, she did not fit into the first category. Because of proximity, and maybe because of the disparity of our interests and circles of friends, we drifted apart and lost touch. No big disaster for me, though, and I'm guessing she felt the same.
Fast forward to more than a decade hence. I was surprised to find a note in my inbox from her. A pleasant surprise, indeed. I eagerly replied and said hello, all the while praising cyberspace for opportunities such as this.
It was only a few hours later when I received her reply. The contents of her message surprised me. Not because I'm not used to hearing such stories, but because it's not really something you share with someone you haven't spoken to for the last 10 years or so. The words came pouring out of her like water from a broken dam during a storm. Niagara Falls, baby.
Margaux shared that she has several kids now. When she was still with Husband #1, she worked abroad and sent all her earnings to him. Margaux broke up with him after she went home to an empty bank account. Turns out he spent everything she earned on frivolous things. Jerk.
I was also surprised to find out that she worked for almost a year in this Asian country where money comes easy. There was a quick disclaimer that she "did nothing of that sort", but that she "earned easy money". I did not prod her any further, but of course, my imaginative mind tends to run away. Not that I want to think the worst about her, but it seems to be a logical conclusion.
She now has a second husband and has other kids with him. But they now live on a day-to-day existence because of mismanaged wealth. They lost all their properties and business due to excessive spending, drugs and gambling. According to Margaux, they now live off the money given to them by charitable family members, which isn't much.
It saddened me because I've always known Margaux to be a happy-go-lucky person. While not ridiculously wealthy, her family (birth parents) was well-off and she lived a comfortable life. She had a lot of opportunites, but she let them all get away from her because of her circumstances. And now, while putting up a brave front, she is living a life of regret and bitterness.
She hardly talked about her husband. She only mentioned him twice: once, to say that he drank everyday, and the second time, to say that he lost everything to drugs and gambling. But he is, after all, still her husband, and they are together "for richer and for poorer".
The good thing about her is that she owns up to the fact that some of them are her mistakes.
So what do you say to someone like her? I just gave her a lot of encouraging words and said that she can always rebuild her life. It takes a lot of work, but it is not impossible.
Margaux and I are still in touch. Once in a while, she shares happy moments with her kids. I am happy because they represent hope for her...five good reasons to live and keep fighting. She's bitter about the little things she can't give her kids, such as a decent bed and the many comforts she enjoyed as a child, but I told her that all the material things in the world can never replace a mother's love.
Poverty is relative. In my eyes, they are not impoverished. They may lack a few luxuries, but they are together as a family. Sure, they all share one cramped bedroom and sleep on the floor, but they have a roof over their heads. They cannot afford designer labels anymore, but they have decent clothing. They may not eat out as often as they used to, but who says they have to, as long as they have three square meals everyday?
I pray that life will be kinder to Margaux. And I hope she also comes to realize the most important thing she has in her hands:
"Hey, you know what paradise is?
It's a lie.
A fantasy created by people
And places as we'd like them to be.
But you know what truth is?
It's that little baby you're holding,
And it's that man you fought with this morning.
The same one you're going to make love with tonight.
That's truth.
That's love."
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Being Effie White
It's a shame to admit it, but I've only seen "Dreamgirls" today.
I'm not a huge fan of musicals. I don't hate them, but I don't like them that much, either. They don't exactly land on my priority list when I decide what movies to watch. Case in point: I have not seen a single installment in the "High School Musical" series. So sue me.
I have to admit that the recent tragedy in Jennifer Hudson's life was what lured me to watch "Dreamgirls". Does it sound too morbid? Not to me. I figured, hey, I keep seeing this girl on the news these days, I've seen her perform and be eliminated on "American Idol" (which, by the way, I still feel is an injustice) and I watched her accept her Oscar for this flick, so why not watch the movie?
Happily, I was not disappointed. Jennifer Hudson's big voice is already a given, but she breathed so much life into Effie White. Her character is fascinating.
We've all been an Effie White at some point in our lives.
In my case, when I look back on my past, I can recall those times when people took credit for what was the product of my hard work. Oh, I had lots of those. I remember moments when I've felt betrayed. They took the form and shape of "friends", co-workers, lovers, even family members. I also think I did my share of standing up to those who would love to see me fail, to lock horns and fight for my principles in the face of overwhelming bias and personal discrimination.
And even when you've faced several heartaches and heartbreaks, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with them. It still feels as shitty as the first time.
It's hard not to pity yourself during those moments. But, like Effie, it's up to us whether we choose to languish in the mire of depression, or use our big voices to be heard.
And WIN.
What was your Effie White moment?
I'm not a huge fan of musicals. I don't hate them, but I don't like them that much, either. They don't exactly land on my priority list when I decide what movies to watch. Case in point: I have not seen a single installment in the "High School Musical" series. So sue me.
I have to admit that the recent tragedy in Jennifer Hudson's life was what lured me to watch "Dreamgirls". Does it sound too morbid? Not to me. I figured, hey, I keep seeing this girl on the news these days, I've seen her perform and be eliminated on "American Idol" (which, by the way, I still feel is an injustice) and I watched her accept her Oscar for this flick, so why not watch the movie?
Happily, I was not disappointed. Jennifer Hudson's big voice is already a given, but she breathed so much life into Effie White. Her character is fascinating.
We've all been an Effie White at some point in our lives.
In my case, when I look back on my past, I can recall those times when people took credit for what was the product of my hard work. Oh, I had lots of those. I remember moments when I've felt betrayed. They took the form and shape of "friends", co-workers, lovers, even family members. I also think I did my share of standing up to those who would love to see me fail, to lock horns and fight for my principles in the face of overwhelming bias and personal discrimination.
And even when you've faced several heartaches and heartbreaks, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with them. It still feels as shitty as the first time.
It's hard not to pity yourself during those moments. But, like Effie, it's up to us whether we choose to languish in the mire of depression, or use our big voices to be heard.
And WIN.
What was your Effie White moment?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
The Facebook Phenomenon
A few years ago, Friendster was the coolest thing to ever hit cyberspace. It would have to be the biggest breakthrough in social networking (at least, in my unprofessional opinion).
Currently, though, it's competing neck-to-neck with many other service providers, such as Multiply, MySpace and Hi5, to name a few. Friendster may not be enjoying monopoly anymore, but I guess they could say that they have the singular honor of starting the snowball of social networks.
Enter Facebook.
My account is actually a few years old. I got a lot of invitations from FB buddies, along with the flood of others such as WAYN, Tagged, Hi5, LinkedIn, Multiply, etc. Truthfully, I opened some accounts just to get rid of the very persistent invites that some have been sending (read: to shut them up, hehehe). So my Facebook account was actually born out of that.
Up until recently, the only social networking tool that I've been faithfully updating was my Multiply account. My Friendster is, well, just there. I log in once in a while when there are message alerts, and sometimes to see my friends' new photos, but other than that, it's pretty dormant. I'm no longer interested to accumulate more friends there.
Ah, but Facebook is so different.
In the few weeks since I've resuscitated my account, I've made contact with former colleagues, old friends, long-lost buddies, classmates from primary school, even family members I had no idea existed (and who probably didn't know about me, either!). It also allowed me an opportunity to gain closure on an issue that I had long since buried and tried to forget about.
Now that I've got so much spare time in my hands, I'm quite surprised about the little discoveries I've been making. And I get dumbstruck when I think of how relevant those discoveries are to my life. Even a seemingly inane invite on Facebook now has a reason.
That's probably God super-poking me :)
Currently, though, it's competing neck-to-neck with many other service providers, such as Multiply, MySpace and Hi5, to name a few. Friendster may not be enjoying monopoly anymore, but I guess they could say that they have the singular honor of starting the snowball of social networks.
Enter Facebook.
My account is actually a few years old. I got a lot of invitations from FB buddies, along with the flood of others such as WAYN, Tagged, Hi5, LinkedIn, Multiply, etc. Truthfully, I opened some accounts just to get rid of the very persistent invites that some have been sending (read: to shut them up, hehehe). So my Facebook account was actually born out of that.
Up until recently, the only social networking tool that I've been faithfully updating was my Multiply account. My Friendster is, well, just there. I log in once in a while when there are message alerts, and sometimes to see my friends' new photos, but other than that, it's pretty dormant. I'm no longer interested to accumulate more friends there.
Ah, but Facebook is so different.
In the few weeks since I've resuscitated my account, I've made contact with former colleagues, old friends, long-lost buddies, classmates from primary school, even family members I had no idea existed (and who probably didn't know about me, either!). It also allowed me an opportunity to gain closure on an issue that I had long since buried and tried to forget about.
Now that I've got so much spare time in my hands, I'm quite surprised about the little discoveries I've been making. And I get dumbstruck when I think of how relevant those discoveries are to my life. Even a seemingly inane invite on Facebook now has a reason.
That's probably God super-poking me :)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
On Patience
"Patience is a virtue."
"Good things come to those who wait."
"For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."
These all pertain to that wonderful virtue that I wish I had more of. And in my Divine Writer's eternal wisdom, He thought that now would be a good time for me to grow some.
It's not easy for someone like me. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled brat (which my mother and husband both "lovingly" insist that I am), I'm used to getting my way. Immediately. Whether by coercion or sweet manipulation. I guess that is one of the downsides of being the youngest in the brood. Everybody pampers you and so you expect the whole world to lie at your feet. And you develop a sort of Machiavellian attitude towards life.
I'd like to think that, while my life isn't exactly charmed, I have been very privileged. But now that things aren't going according to my expectations, I vascillate between frustration and anger one day, and depression and self-pity the next. It's not a pretty picture.
But when you find nothing but blank walls, you recognize signs that you would normally miss during your humdrum march in life. And in the overwhelming silence, you learn to listen to your heart.
Whereas before I could only see a closed door, I now see the windows opening.
I marvel at my Divine Writer's sense of humor. I could never be half as witty as He is. He certainly deserves an Emmy.
"Good things come to those who wait."
"For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."
These all pertain to that wonderful virtue that I wish I had more of. And in my Divine Writer's eternal wisdom, He thought that now would be a good time for me to grow some.
It's not easy for someone like me. At the risk of sounding like a spoiled brat (which my mother and husband both "lovingly" insist that I am), I'm used to getting my way. Immediately. Whether by coercion or sweet manipulation. I guess that is one of the downsides of being the youngest in the brood. Everybody pampers you and so you expect the whole world to lie at your feet. And you develop a sort of Machiavellian attitude towards life.
I'd like to think that, while my life isn't exactly charmed, I have been very privileged. But now that things aren't going according to my expectations, I vascillate between frustration and anger one day, and depression and self-pity the next. It's not a pretty picture.
But when you find nothing but blank walls, you recognize signs that you would normally miss during your humdrum march in life. And in the overwhelming silence, you learn to listen to your heart.
Whereas before I could only see a closed door, I now see the windows opening.
I marvel at my Divine Writer's sense of humor. I could never be half as witty as He is. He certainly deserves an Emmy.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Warding Off Forwarded Emails
Is there a nice way of doing this to your email contacts?
As the world today becomes increasingly dependent on technology, one of the pitfalls is the inevitable abuse of such mechanisms. A few months or years ago, this took the form of SMS. At the time, it was a free service. People kept forwarding useless messages to other mobile phone subscribers...and so now we paid the price when telcos decided each SMS should be charged accordingly. That step drastically curbed keypad-happy texters to become more prudent in their SMS activities, but of course, certain promos such as "unlitxt" still satisfies their compulsive texting needs.
And now the most logical alternative to SMS-ing would be emailing. It's free, and it's now very accessible to every Tom, Dick and Harry. Or Jane, Mary and Sally.
Don't you hate it when people send you messages with this subject: "Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Chain letter...don't break it unless you want to die!!!!!!!" How utterly childish and nonsensical! I may sound like an old prude but I really hate it.
Come on, do we seriously believe that committing a "sin of omission" (such as deliberately not forwarding chain letters) would really be enough cause for us to keel over and die? I may be a non-practising Christian, but, hey, I have a high opinion of God. He's not gonna strike me dead just because I refuse to forward a useless message, which, for all I know, contains a Trojan virus or a worm that could do some effing damage to my friends' motherboards or files.
I will not play hypocrite and say that I've never done this before. Like I said, it's a pitfall. I did that in the past, but I guess I matured and thought that I might possibly be pissing off my email contacts!
From time to time, I have to be honest that I forward email messages on occasion. But that's when I really think the contents are worth sharing. Otherwise, I don't even bother reading them. I've actually identified a few of my email contacts as "spammers" and automatically delete their forwarded messages.
And FYI, sending forwarded messages doesn't exactly fall under "keeping in touch". If you ask me, I would rather receive a short "hi, just dropping by to say good morning" or something like that, rather than get slews of crappy "Fwd: fwd: fwd".
So there. If you're really my friend, please, you MUST know me better. Don't wait for me to tell it to you straight, and then run back crying for your mommy when your feelings are hurt. Choose the things you share.
Or better yet, GROW UP.
As the world today becomes increasingly dependent on technology, one of the pitfalls is the inevitable abuse of such mechanisms. A few months or years ago, this took the form of SMS. At the time, it was a free service. People kept forwarding useless messages to other mobile phone subscribers...and so now we paid the price when telcos decided each SMS should be charged accordingly. That step drastically curbed keypad-happy texters to become more prudent in their SMS activities, but of course, certain promos such as "unlitxt" still satisfies their compulsive texting needs.
And now the most logical alternative to SMS-ing would be emailing. It's free, and it's now very accessible to every Tom, Dick and Harry. Or Jane, Mary and Sally.
Don't you hate it when people send you messages with this subject: "Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Chain letter...don't break it unless you want to die!!!!!!!" How utterly childish and nonsensical! I may sound like an old prude but I really hate it.
Come on, do we seriously believe that committing a "sin of omission" (such as deliberately not forwarding chain letters) would really be enough cause for us to keel over and die? I may be a non-practising Christian, but, hey, I have a high opinion of God. He's not gonna strike me dead just because I refuse to forward a useless message, which, for all I know, contains a Trojan virus or a worm that could do some effing damage to my friends' motherboards or files.
I will not play hypocrite and say that I've never done this before. Like I said, it's a pitfall. I did that in the past, but I guess I matured and thought that I might possibly be pissing off my email contacts!
From time to time, I have to be honest that I forward email messages on occasion. But that's when I really think the contents are worth sharing. Otherwise, I don't even bother reading them. I've actually identified a few of my email contacts as "spammers" and automatically delete their forwarded messages.
And FYI, sending forwarded messages doesn't exactly fall under "keeping in touch". If you ask me, I would rather receive a short "hi, just dropping by to say good morning" or something like that, rather than get slews of crappy "Fwd: fwd: fwd".
So there. If you're really my friend, please, you MUST know me better. Don't wait for me to tell it to you straight, and then run back crying for your mommy when your feelings are hurt. Choose the things you share.
Or better yet, GROW UP.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Tagged by Dementia: 5 factoids you may not know about me blogtag game
I've actually been tagged before but I never got around doing it. Today, I got tagged by my good friend Dementia, and so, what with all the free time I have on my hands, now may be a good time to pass on some factoids about moi:
1. I like eating hotdogs fried in butter and sprinkled with sugar. It's good, really. You should try it sometime (given that you have a sweet tooth, of course). The trick is to cook the hotdogs till they're almost done, then sprinkle the sugar just until you're about to take them out of the pan. That'll give it a sweet, slightly caramelized shell. Yum. (note: for some reason, this only works with regular Purefoods TJ hotdogs).
2. Most of my friends know that I went to a Catholic school for my primary and secondary education. What people don't know is the first question I asked when I took up Religion as a subject. I was about 5 years old, we were having a conversation over dinner, and my contribution was: "Mama, why is Mama Mary called "Virgin Mary"? What is a virgin?" Needless to say, dinner ended quite early that day.
3. I almost did not make it into this world. My mom didn't know I was there until about five months into her pregnancy. Then her doctor suggested an abortion because the risks were too high; she just had two major kidney operations and had an artificial ureter. There was a possibility that we would both die. My mom refused and signed a waiver, to absolve that Makati hospital from whatever responsibilities. Funny how they (hospital) never thought about their moral obligations. And now I'm here...wreaking havoc, hahaha.
4. I sniff each and every article of freshly laundered clothing, just before I fold them. (Don't give me that look...I will not wear them unless they smell like fabric conditioner)
5. I used to be a lefty but my parents "corrected" it and now I'm a righty. However, it is still apparent, in that I use my left hand for things that require force (such as opening a bottle of soda). It also shows in my target shooting, as I am cross-dominant (I hold the gun in my right hand but look at the target with my left eye).
So there are my factoids. And here are the rules of the game, copy-pasted from Dementia:
1) Once you are tagged, you have to give 5 factoids about yourself that other people may not know about you.
2) You have to acknowledge who tagged you by putting the name, alias or blogsite of the tagger on the subject of your blog, together with the title of the blog game. To illustrate, your title should appear like so..."tagged by iluzionada: 5 factoids you may not know about me blogtag game"
3) You have to enumerate 5 factoids about you that people may not know. These could either be personal stuff, embarrasing moments in your life, weird habits, a funny pet name and so on and so forth.
4) You have to tag three other bloggers to do the same. To do this, you have to call them out in your blog and make sure they get the message by however means necessary. (Suggest that you comment in their blogsite, or send them a text or email. Show them your blog and hope that they keep this rolling.)
5) Once a blogger has been tagged, then he or she can no longer be tagged again.
And now, the responsibility to keep this game going falls on these three friends:
http://teopaco.multiply.com
http://purplewalrus.multiply.com
http://19sodashop.multiply.com
1. I like eating hotdogs fried in butter and sprinkled with sugar. It's good, really. You should try it sometime (given that you have a sweet tooth, of course). The trick is to cook the hotdogs till they're almost done, then sprinkle the sugar just until you're about to take them out of the pan. That'll give it a sweet, slightly caramelized shell. Yum. (note: for some reason, this only works with regular Purefoods TJ hotdogs).
2. Most of my friends know that I went to a Catholic school for my primary and secondary education. What people don't know is the first question I asked when I took up Religion as a subject. I was about 5 years old, we were having a conversation over dinner, and my contribution was: "Mama, why is Mama Mary called "Virgin Mary"? What is a virgin?" Needless to say, dinner ended quite early that day.
3. I almost did not make it into this world. My mom didn't know I was there until about five months into her pregnancy. Then her doctor suggested an abortion because the risks were too high; she just had two major kidney operations and had an artificial ureter. There was a possibility that we would both die. My mom refused and signed a waiver, to absolve that Makati hospital from whatever responsibilities. Funny how they (hospital) never thought about their moral obligations. And now I'm here...wreaking havoc, hahaha.
4. I sniff each and every article of freshly laundered clothing, just before I fold them. (Don't give me that look...I will not wear them unless they smell like fabric conditioner)
5. I used to be a lefty but my parents "corrected" it and now I'm a righty. However, it is still apparent, in that I use my left hand for things that require force (such as opening a bottle of soda). It also shows in my target shooting, as I am cross-dominant (I hold the gun in my right hand but look at the target with my left eye).
So there are my factoids. And here are the rules of the game, copy-pasted from Dementia:
1) Once you are tagged, you have to give 5 factoids about yourself that other people may not know about you.
2) You have to acknowledge who tagged you by putting the name, alias or blogsite of the tagger on the subject of your blog, together with the title of the blog game. To illustrate, your title should appear like so..."tagged by iluzionada: 5 factoids you may not know about me blogtag game"
3) You have to enumerate 5 factoids about you that people may not know. These could either be personal stuff, embarrasing moments in your life, weird habits, a funny pet name and so on and so forth.
4) You have to tag three other bloggers to do the same. To do this, you have to call them out in your blog and make sure they get the message by however means necessary. (Suggest that you comment in their blogsite, or send them a text or email. Show them your blog and hope that they keep this rolling.)
5) Once a blogger has been tagged, then he or she can no longer be tagged again.
And now, the responsibility to keep this game going falls on these three friends:
http://teopaco.multiply.com
http://purplewalrus.multiply.com
http://19sodashop.multiply.com
Sunday, September 28, 2008
A Bright Morning
Since childhood, I had been the type to hide my real emotions. Call it a defense mechanism, but I've programmed myself to respond apathetically to things that would normally reduce us to a pile of jittery nerves. In fact, I have received many a compliment on being cool in the face of tremendous pressure.
I was probably a bit more upset with the changes than I have let on. I'm guessing my Divine Writer played a little trick on me to force me to face my issues. He uprooted me and took me away from all the things and people I had clung to for security. He left me all by myself. He literally put me in front of four white walls, and made me listen to my heart.
I was shaken. But I never resented Him for it. In fact, I woke up this morning feeling better.
He was wise enough to rouse me awake, to leave me alone to confront my fears, yet He threw in a lifeline or two. I was able to talk to my husband. And strangely, He showed me that one of the people whom I thought could never be a real friend offered her support.
He really moves in mysterious ways. I have been purged of many of my uncertainties and now have a fresher outlook. I was taught to trust completely and nothing can ever go wrong.
He just gave me my first speaking line on my Script: Let go and let God.
And what a beautiful line it is!
I was probably a bit more upset with the changes than I have let on. I'm guessing my Divine Writer played a little trick on me to force me to face my issues. He uprooted me and took me away from all the things and people I had clung to for security. He left me all by myself. He literally put me in front of four white walls, and made me listen to my heart.
I was shaken. But I never resented Him for it. In fact, I woke up this morning feeling better.
He was wise enough to rouse me awake, to leave me alone to confront my fears, yet He threw in a lifeline or two. I was able to talk to my husband. And strangely, He showed me that one of the people whom I thought could never be a real friend offered her support.
He really moves in mysterious ways. I have been purged of many of my uncertainties and now have a fresher outlook. I was taught to trust completely and nothing can ever go wrong.
He just gave me my first speaking line on my Script: Let go and let God.
And what a beautiful line it is!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Forging On
I noticed that I have become increasingly fatalistic as days pass.
People close to me know that I am not exactly religious. Quite an irony, especially since I was educated for most of my life in a Catholic school, and that my father's side of the family tree had their share of nuns and priests. Be that as it may, it doesn't mean that I am a non-believer. I think that I am in touch with my spiritual side, and I do treasure my personal relationship with my Divine Writer.
A lot of changes are happening on the family front. Things happened at a dizzying speed. We were totally unprepared, but strangely, the events seem to fall into place with precision. I am a firm believer that things are preordained, and this is no exception.
From my end, I face a lot of uncertainties. I have a lot of fears. I try my best to follow what I feel is the path my Divine Writer scripted out for me, but I am human enough to admit that I do feel lost sometimes. I do not understand some of the things that are happening now. I know, however, that I just have to keep my faith and trust that all things will be for the best.
After all, we were all promised that His plans were made to prosper us and never to harm us.
And so life goes on...
People close to me know that I am not exactly religious. Quite an irony, especially since I was educated for most of my life in a Catholic school, and that my father's side of the family tree had their share of nuns and priests. Be that as it may, it doesn't mean that I am a non-believer. I think that I am in touch with my spiritual side, and I do treasure my personal relationship with my Divine Writer.
A lot of changes are happening on the family front. Things happened at a dizzying speed. We were totally unprepared, but strangely, the events seem to fall into place with precision. I am a firm believer that things are preordained, and this is no exception.
From my end, I face a lot of uncertainties. I have a lot of fears. I try my best to follow what I feel is the path my Divine Writer scripted out for me, but I am human enough to admit that I do feel lost sometimes. I do not understand some of the things that are happening now. I know, however, that I just have to keep my faith and trust that all things will be for the best.
After all, we were all promised that His plans were made to prosper us and never to harm us.
And so life goes on...
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Coming Home
Tonight, my husband returns from a week-long business trip to Amsterdam. It will be his first time to be home after two long months.
Yes, you read that right. The business trip is just for one week. And he hasn't been home in two months.
Confusing? Okay, I'll explain.
My husband is an expat. He was recently hired by a Singapore employer to join them as a Demo Artist. The weird thing about that is he never applied for the job, nor did we ever plan to relocate to another country. The details would need a separate blog entry to be able to do justice to the beauty of the story, but that's the gist, more or less.
He found himself shuttling back and forth between Manila and Singapore since March this year, for interviews, exhibits, more interviews, and finally the employment confirmation. By the end of July, he found himself in the Lion City, quite alone.
It was a blessing that he was occupied with a number of out-of-the-country trips during his first month. Barely two weeks after he arrived, he and his team went to Malaysia for some training. A week after that, he found himself in Mumbai, India for still more training.
I would keep close tabs on him the entire time he was away -- especially if he was outside Singapore. We probably spent a small fortune on call cards, considering that he wasn't always online. He complained at one point that the return trips always felt empty. He knew he was supposed to be "coming home"...but to what? A foreign land. A hotel room, maybe. Or a flat shared with people he didn't know from Adam.
The places he stayed in held an almost clinical quality about them. It was a halfway house. It was somewhere he could put his things in while he was at work. It was a place where he could catch a few zzzz's, but ironically, would not make him feel refreshed or recharged at all.
The last week of August found me on a Singapore-bound plane. I finally gave in to my husband's increasingly urgent requests to be with him. He said that he found a flat for our family, at last, after weeks of poring over the internet and countless viewing schedules. But he would need my domestic engineering abilities to make it more liveable.
And so I went.
A few days ago, we were chatting online...I, in Singapore, and he, in Amsterdam. He said that this was the first time he felt excited about his return trip. Now, he felt certain that he is, indeed, coming home.
Interestingly enough, I found a beautiful caption in one of my Facebook friend's profiles. He went with his wife to Amsterdam on a pleasure trip, and in one of their photos in that faraway place, he said: "Travel with your soulmate and you'll never miss home."
To a certain degree, that's true. However, if he may allow, I will paraphrase his statement to fit my situation: "Be with your soulmate, and you will ALWAYS be home."
Welcome home, honey.
Yes, you read that right. The business trip is just for one week. And he hasn't been home in two months.
Confusing? Okay, I'll explain.
My husband is an expat. He was recently hired by a Singapore employer to join them as a Demo Artist. The weird thing about that is he never applied for the job, nor did we ever plan to relocate to another country. The details would need a separate blog entry to be able to do justice to the beauty of the story, but that's the gist, more or less.
He found himself shuttling back and forth between Manila and Singapore since March this year, for interviews, exhibits, more interviews, and finally the employment confirmation. By the end of July, he found himself in the Lion City, quite alone.
It was a blessing that he was occupied with a number of out-of-the-country trips during his first month. Barely two weeks after he arrived, he and his team went to Malaysia for some training. A week after that, he found himself in Mumbai, India for still more training.
I would keep close tabs on him the entire time he was away -- especially if he was outside Singapore. We probably spent a small fortune on call cards, considering that he wasn't always online. He complained at one point that the return trips always felt empty. He knew he was supposed to be "coming home"...but to what? A foreign land. A hotel room, maybe. Or a flat shared with people he didn't know from Adam.
The places he stayed in held an almost clinical quality about them. It was a halfway house. It was somewhere he could put his things in while he was at work. It was a place where he could catch a few zzzz's, but ironically, would not make him feel refreshed or recharged at all.
The last week of August found me on a Singapore-bound plane. I finally gave in to my husband's increasingly urgent requests to be with him. He said that he found a flat for our family, at last, after weeks of poring over the internet and countless viewing schedules. But he would need my domestic engineering abilities to make it more liveable.
And so I went.
A few days ago, we were chatting online...I, in Singapore, and he, in Amsterdam. He said that this was the first time he felt excited about his return trip. Now, he felt certain that he is, indeed, coming home.
Interestingly enough, I found a beautiful caption in one of my Facebook friend's profiles. He went with his wife to Amsterdam on a pleasure trip, and in one of their photos in that faraway place, he said: "Travel with your soulmate and you'll never miss home."
To a certain degree, that's true. However, if he may allow, I will paraphrase his statement to fit my situation: "Be with your soulmate, and you will ALWAYS be home."
Welcome home, honey.
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