Gold and beautiful. White waiting for my white vinegar to sift thru my bath’s ceiling … I found this 80 year old lady blogger, Ms. Pat Ford. Can you just imagine how many stories she can tell. Of places, people, events and things she has seen but we will never get to see yet through her generosity her followers like me will have that surreal feeling of being part of her journey. The benefits of scribbling (writing) and nosiness (reading) … wild imagining and restless thoughts. If I have the gift of years, I wanna see myself still doodling around here like she does, me and my thick rimmed aviator glasses, botox free epidermis, still wearin’ my favorite yummy locks with few greys (few lang talaga, may be 10, that’s the most LOL), normal sugar, and never getting caught dead without my usual snappy and quirky self :) . Just a quiet room for a senior netizen ;) … full of her fixations and capriciousness. I get lost in reading. I write "forever". :)
PS
Ms. Pat Ford's last entry was 2011. I found and shared this in Facebook October 2012. Oh well, whatever happens, it's gonna be a life well lived. But i still wish she writes some more ...
I'm a fan. :) |
I like to remember things my own way. how i remembered them, not necessarily the way they happened. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. My DeLicioUs ambiguity.
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Gold 'en Lovely
http://goingon80.wordpress.com/
She was MP3. I was April Dreams. And This is Our Parody***
***some late posting from last year’s turn of events on a dear friend’s life (parallel with mine/opposite with mine)
Six years ago. We were in Friendster --- me, CITEM and high school. Then she moved to Facebook … like everybody else did. I chose to stay a bit longer in my comfort zone. Damn, Friendster and I wouldn’t let go. I remember my very first shout out, it was such a one-liner bitch. I didn’t really want to leave my old social
networking site. I really wish I wouldn’t have too. That was 6 years back.
networking site. I really wish I wouldn’t have too. That was 6 years back.
*They found each other in Facebook. Took their sweet time together, of something they thought they lost in HS. May be take another shot at love, with somebody you’ve always wanted to have but didn’t have the chance. May be because they were too young and mid-life was just the best perfect timing. I bet it was heaven. I’m sure there were many plans and promises. There are always two sides. The "for real" side. Of course, the truth will always come out. Of course, he lied to her. Of course, she was broken into bits and pieces. Of course, there were consequences, After, 1 and ½ years, their plans of shuttling to and from the US and here, they broke up. But she held on. And he let it be. Neither one of them wanted to … para silang bote na paikot ikot.
**Coming to Facebook was Friendster’s fault. Can you imagine how tedious it was for me, I had too many albums, messages, testimonials … and just too much memories of Mark Dresden, and Dennis, too (who actually set up my Friendsterfor me :) ), my fans (lol), ex-girlfriend (double lol with back flip), trolls. My reluctance was a premonition, but my transfer was inevitable. Friendster eventually became a gaming site, and it wasn’t anything like Farmville lol.
It was like me coming out amnesia. Finding one’s self in a totally different place and time, and felt like nothing’s changed. Just when I thought I've totally forgotten all about you, it's been a long time, and I have lived my life in my own terms ... you came back in my life, and suddenly it was so permanent. So I thought I finally had the chance with you, this time, mid life. . The idea was heaven. There were plans. There were promises. And I was too confident, believing that you love me like I love you. But that was just a theory. It all went fast, and hard and hell. Two months that was all. Hindi man lang umabot ng pasko, new year, birthdays, thanksgiving, kahit semana santa o pyestang patay etc etc. Just two months. Permanent and punishing.
*Suddenly there was competition. She was too busy holding on and she didn’t see it coming. Somebody’s fallen in love with somebody. And it wasn’t her, and not with her. Tables were turned now (at least that was how she felt). She was hurt but still in good spirits. My friend is an intelligent woman, she can see through it with objectivity. We’ve been friends since our freshman days in high school, she talks to me without shame or remorse, about her fears, and guilt feelings, her shortcomings, her angsts, frustrations, depressions, foolishness. With men, they say, after tedious years of marriage, you let them sleep around, but not fall in love with the other person they’re sleeping with or sleeping not.
Suddenly, she needed to compete. Competition made her realize that she (still) loves the man she married. Competition made her realize she didn’t want to lose him. Now she’s ready to let go of that love that failed her. Too bad he was already in love with her who haven’t failed him, may be not yet or may be not ever. I was just listening. That was my friend's journey, not mine.
**Suddenly, she needed to compete. . She made you wait. And you waited for her, for 7 years. She was your Queen. I was competition. But I was just a pawn. And nobody loves a pawn. Especially not you.
Honey, don't you see, I got you your dream ... as you said ... now you wouldn't have to spend another day away from her*****. Honey, you owe me. :) ... This is my journey, not yours.
Of parallelism and opposites. And life as a big joke.
*****a PM I got in my mailbox. thanks for the updates whoever you are. I owe you.
*****a PM I got in my mailbox. thanks for the updates whoever you are. I owe you.
Saturday, September 6, 2014
This is BIG BIG VINTAGE LOVE, baby!
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| Just the two of us in the bedroom. Mommy had nothing to do but play with her little doll. She was barely 4 mos. old. I needed to put that "jusz-about-her-size" red fluffy pillow for balance --- and tadahhhh capture that picture perfect moment using our ever reliable Olympus camera, one that still uses photographic films :)CLICK LINK to VOTE. http://woobox.com/q6v4vw/vote/for/4700621 |
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| A Gallery of Sweets --- This --- make me wanna have more babies :( (jusz sayin ... or rantin' may be :( ) |
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Dreamin' and snappin' out of it (like a natural Pro)
... but can't cuz
.. you won't
... and (actually) never did.
*can pass for Loveblender, is it? :)
you love someone, and it's not mutual. but the moment feeling tells you he does, i mean, loves you like you do. love ruins your sense of sight. love destroys your sense of reason. and for all the things he did that he shouldn't have. and for all those things he should have done but didn't. posts deleted. posts shouted. status updates. Christmas photos liked. his complete abandonment of you during times you needed him most. of posers and stalkers who called you names to your friends and your own daughter. hell breaks loose. it was a circus and you were made a clown. yet, you chose to believe yourself, and trust your feelings.
yet spells get broken, too. in as much as you want it keep it, the way you believed it. reality sets in eventually.and no matter how hard you try to unbreak it ... funny how, you couldn't bring yourself to believe it anymore. you know, that moment feeling. :)
you have come to accept, not when you were younger, not in mid life. not when you're older. and that there was no past life, no next life either. not in a million years. no love found.
No Love Lost.
*** that figures, yung umiiyak ka habang nagpa Farmville lol
Friday, August 22, 2014
My Headbang Brood
my early (younger) days in Metropolitan Manila, in my early 20s. I come home to Meycauayan at Julian Eymard, and meet up with my cousins. I don't join their drinking but I was part of the rowdy crew.
si chamberluk at chamberlain lol ...mga pinsan kong rockers, they got me into Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Harem Scarem and Guns N' Roses.
we used to sing this together. needless to say, we love this piece. over the years, i came across a few covers, these three i loved (the original included) the most. the jazz version of course, my fave of all faves. Check 'em out.
ang angas ng original
coo ... Babyface
me and my love for jazz ... Randy Crawford --- syempre this one's my favorite
Blood thickens ... my rockstar lineage. It's in the genes pare!
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| Missing my cousins BIG BIG time (those days we thought we were invincible) |
Postcript
You got busted. I got dumped. knock knock ... WTF happened to heaven?
Labels:
Babyface,
cousins,
Guns n Roses,
Knockin on Heavens Door,
Randy Crawford
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Robingale
I grew up in his humor. Which I liked.. From Mork and Mindy days on TV to the big screen oh they were so many, Dead Poets Society, Birdcage, Patch Adams, Awakenings, What Dreams May Come, Mrs. Doubtfire, Jack, Good Will Hunting, Bicentennial Man, Artificial Intelligence, Jakob The Liar, One Hour Photo, Night at The Museum, Old Dogs, Hook, Flubber, Aladdin, Jumanji, Robots. Grade school pa lang pinapanood ko na sya. He made us laughed, me, mama and lola. Years after, I introduced my own daughter to him via Patch Adams. Very recently, Sophie and I watched together on cable, re-run of Bicentennial Man. So what can I say that's a good span of some 35 years or more. Robin Williams is BIG to me. That BIG. BIG BIG. It feels like a generation is passing and approaching closure. I dread this by the day. People of my time ... just like sands in my hands.
How I wished he didn't have to leave us that way. But who am I to judge. Everyone else is a stranger. Even our closest kith or kin. Our own selves even. I would like to marvel on the laughter he brought me as a young child, how he touched me with his sincerity in more serious, complex roles as an artist in my adult years, and "reading" about his kindness, and sweetness and generosity as a private individual. Snippets of my personal tribute to him in my Facebook, i wrote, One day you will be a memory, let it be a good one. Like a Robin (Williams). That's how I want to remember him, the middle parts, not the ending.
Go in peace our sweet and beautiful Robin. Thank you for sharing your life with us.
***
A Post Mortem
Much have been said about depression and suicide. There were one too many postings in Facebook alone on how magnanimous and miniscule, real and surreal, depression and suicide is, like carrot and stick. As I write this, I feel that it is my responsibility to clear the air, in my own little way. I don't offer a solution, but an after thought.
That kind of depression is a medical condition, thus, it needs medical attention, a qualified medical attention that is. Sadness is not depression. Nor too much sorrow. You make a river out of your tears, create monsters in your heads, chase your own ghosts, get angry with God, get human. They do not equate haphazardly to a depression that can lead to suicide. You are not to say what is depression or not, unless you are a doctor, a psychiatrist at that.
Many times we either under estimate or over think about this matter. Given the gray areas and the thin line, let it be that we base our judgment on qualified information, not emotions; on facts, not poetry.
It is irresponsible for many of us to cast judgment on people who've attempted and successfully taken their own lives when we have not clearly understood the be-all and end-all of what they went/going through, emotionally, mentally and physically.
It is dangerous to families who may have loved ones suffering from this illness called depression, and the advice shouted out in a social network as viral as Facebook, is God. I will not go there, that far and drag spirituality on this issue.
Our loved ones and friends who are SICK with manic depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, what have you, there is genetics involved, there is chemical imbalance, they are SICK, they need proper management --- psychotherapy and medication. Only after we fully understood this condition and its consequences based on qualified information, (not emotions); on facts, (not poetry), then we are able to make informed decisions without prejudice and bigotry. This is the supplication we bring to God's attention.
Lastly, to those who are "well", let us show some dignity by showing some respect to those who suffered from depression, and to those who took their own lives as a result of it.
My piece/peace.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Finding her niche
The middle class syndrome. The lack of enterprising spirit. A full
embrace of employment. Brain drains. Pension money.
Retirement uncertainties. I was raised in that generation.
The height of comfort zones.
My time is modern day parenting. There is technology, system and best practices, re-engineering, more openness, more independence, less of spoon feeding, but none of those sugar coated spoons. I am not a tiger mom but I practice tough love.
My moral authority kinda falls short in
areas of fiscal management J. I was born extravagant, and I actually sincerely plan to die fashionably with it. I’m a bad example with money but my gifts are
different, my skill sets, too. God perfectly
knows how to temper my shortcomings. I yield.
And just may be what she lacks in some other things (from a parent's point of view), this may be her place under the sun, where she commensurates or may be reach much greater heights.
And just may be what she lacks in some other things (from a parent's point of view), this may be her place under the sun, where she commensurates or may be reach much greater heights.
This mom proudly shares the fruit of her daughter's labor. Sophie’sown bank account
from her online gig, Sophie Enchanted.
WATCH OUT SOON: Some make-up brands from the US ;-) ... Mom's actually trying on her first box by September 11, of primers and glitters.
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| jusz gettin a lil obsessed with my brows. splurgin' on colors, highlights, mascara and visits to upscale brow bar. This base will somehow help set the drama ;) |
Labels:
BPI,
Jansport,
Jumpstart,
Sophie,
Sophie Enchanted.,
tiger mom,
tough love
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