We're Too Damn Nice

In the interest of full disclosure, I will say (as if you didn't know by now) that I am a rabid fan of Anthony Bourdain. So if I were to say that last night's episode of No Reservations was another spectacular manifestation of the genius of Bourdain, it shouldn't be that big a surprise.

But since last night's episode was on the Philippines, I loved the episode not only because of its technical merits but also because it was able to get to the meat of the matter (alert: lame attempt at pun #1). Last night was no ordinary travel episode. No near-manic exclamations about the Philippines' inherent beauty. No over zealous panning of smiling men-women-children amidst a backdrop of muted poverty. And aside from the fleeting understatement on how the Filipinos were so "ridiculously nice" to Bourdain, there was no hyped-up (re)utterance regarding Filipino hospitality. Not to say that all these aren't true. They are. But if I had a buck for every time this sort of cop-out sentimentality comes up...

...This was a realistic presentation of a question so intrinsic to all Filipinos -- a question that probably lingers at the back of the mind of many of those fortunate to live in the Philippines; a question that burns in the front burner (as opposed to the back burner -- lame attempt at pun #2) for those who, like myself, live so far: What is "Filipino"?

In Bourdain's narration, I could sense his perplexity. Are Filipinos Malayan? Chinese? Spanish? American? This confusion regarding our national identity is not only the reason there is no definitive Filipino presence in the global food scene, it is symptomatic of a cultural fault that is oftentimes thought of as a boon: That we are "too damn nice" (as Bourdain aptly put it). Instead of forging a clear identity, our default reaction at the face of a foreign presence is assimilation.

No, wait, that's a hasty generalization. I've been witness to a lot of efforts by fellow Filipinos who -- violently and peacefully -- fight for what is "truly Filipino" (no matter how enigmatic that notion may be). But I only have to look at myself to see the effects of assimilation: My so-called American accent, my movie and music preferences, the majority of books in my (ever-growing) collection, my idiomatic expressions, heck, even the language I use to blog and how I italicize Filipino words*. I have so successfully assimilated in the Western culture, that aside from the Highlander moments I have with fellow Filipinos here in the US (that is, they just *sense* that I'm Filipino), to The Other, I am just ubiquitously Asian. I have been Vietnamese, Chinese, Indonesian, and -- my favorite -- "Philippinese" so many times, it's become a game to me now ("Quick, what do you think I am?" *insert sly smile*)

Gloria Anzaldúa talks about the hybrid persona, "the new mestiza" in Borderlands/La Frontera. She talks about how, as a Chicana, she is caught in the middle of so many notions of who she is because of her cultural history. I feel for her entirely. I am letter D and letter E in the cultural multiple choice of life: none of the above, and all of the above (always, sometimes, AND never).

But instead of dissecting the parts of my hybridity, I want to embrace all of these wonderfully opposing-while-also-complementing parts that make me who I am. This hybrid identity IS the new identity. All of the above, none of the above, always, sometimes, and never, full stop. No parenthetical remarks. In the same way as all 7000+ islands make up one country, all those influences make up one identity.

Bourdain felt sad for Augusto, his pseudo-Virgil, and rightly so. Augusto reminds me of a Fil-Am friend I have here who also struggles to find the balance between being raised American while being proudly Filipino. Now that he and his wife are about to have a child, the question spills over to how they will raise their child and how they will strike their own balance in the formation of his/her own national identity. But while the episode ended with a somber note, the story of the Filipino goes on. And while the quest for national identity is not unique to Filipinos, it goes without saying that perhaps this question should be dealt with more urgency and seriousness in the midst of our frenzied attempts to assimilate.

Good grief. I haven't even talked about the food that was featured!  But see, the episode was so much more than the food (but oh, glorious food!!!) and became downright existential for me. Guh. Well done, Bourdain.

Oh, and while you've officially named Cebu's lechon the "best pig ever," allow me to haughtingly say, tell me something I didn't know. ;-)

Now where can I find me some sisig?!?!?!

* But I must be more forgiving of myself on this point as I realize I have an international audience -- woohoo, I have an audience. Another coin in my Narcisstic Piggy Bank.

A Series of Unrelated But Feakishly Well-Timed Moments of Epiphany

This past week has been pretty hectic at work, what with the laying off of four significant people in the organization (my [former] boss included). Despite that, several interesting things happened this week:

Aha Moment # 1

I won a free 2-year gym membership. If that isn't a sign that I should start exercising, I don't know what is! LOL. Of course, I won't be able to take advantage of the whole prize, and I still have to find out if there are any strings attached to this whole arrangement. Still, it's still pretty funny when you think about it.

Whether or not this pans out, yes, I got the message. I have to get my butt moving.

Aha Moment # 2

I have always credited several teachers for my decision to start teaching. But the one who was the most influential has been beyond my reach for several years. I had always wanted to find a way to let her know how significant she was -- and still is -- in my life, but for one reason or another, I was never able to really contact her until recently.

One of my best gals was able to see her in a conference and touch base with her. So I got hold of her email address and promptly wrote her a thank-you note. It was weird because as I was writing the email, I felt myself choking up. After all these years, whenever I talk about teaching, and my reasons behind it, I still find myself coming close to tears. Barring the times when I talk about how my husband is so amazing (for those of you who were in our wedding, you'd know this -- remember how nobody could understand our wedding vows because we were crying through the whole thing? LOL), talking about teaching is the only time I get overly emotional. (Oh, who am I kidding? I also cry when I talk about Philippine politics...and when I see a puppy being abused in one of those Animal Planet shows...and when watching another wonderful Johnson & Johnson commercial.)

I told my teacher how much her dedication to teaching helped me through a very rough period in my life. Her lessons were so wonderfully taught that when I started teaching, I patterned a lot of my lessons after the way she taught them. After all these years, whenever I think about how she did what she did, I still get goosebumps.

She emailed back and told me that she was *this close* to leaving the academe because she felt worn out and that she was beginning to think that she wasn't making any difference. My email couldn't have come at a better time, she said. In my email, I apologized for not having written sooner, but she said that if I had written sooner, she would've taken my gratitude with a different perspective. The delayed timing was, in fact, perfect.

Aha Moment # 3

It's no secret among my friends that I have one ex in particular with whom I do not get along (and that's putting it very lightly). I'd go so far as to say that I regret being with him, but I was with him for almost four years, and I do not regret the connections I gained because of that awful relationship. In fact, some of the closest friends I have to this day are people I met through him. One of them, the girlfriend he had before me, is one of the closest friends I have, or will ever have, for that matter. She and I are almost like soul sisters -- we are exactly the same and yet so wonderfully different.

Through the wonders of The-Social-Networking-Site-That-Cannot-Be-Named (TSNSTCBN...harhar), I've reconnected with another one of my ex's exes. The girlfriend he had before the girlfriend he had before me (keeping track so far?) Because of one reason or another, she and I never got close, even though we went to the same college for a while. Through our interactions on TSNSTCBN, I've discovered that she and I actually get along smashingly. Like, we're totally on the same wavelength! I wrote her a message and told her how unfortunate it was that we had not become friends sooner, and how I thoroughly appreciate her views and her almost uncanny insight into my thoughts.

Which goes to show, no man should ever come between two women (unless, of course, that's your thing...hey, no judgment). Imagine all the years we lost when we could have been friends! All because of that turd of a man who did not deserve the love that I, the ex before me, and the ex before her had given him. Sheesh. But no matter, at least we have the future. Hurray for the future (and 20/20 hindsight).

And so ends my reflection for the week. I absolutely love it when these things happen. It reminds me that I am not in control, but God is -- and though we may think it took so long or that it's too late, God's timing is always perfect. Rock.

Clicking My Ruby Slippers Three Times

My husband and I have decided to go home. More accurately, my husband has to decided to stay there in the Philippines while I will fly back to Manila on May 5 (I arrive midnight, May 6, so I'll be there May 7-ish).

Beyond that, I don't think I really have to say anything more. I am aware that I don't owe anybody any explanation. But I take that back. What I mean is, I don't owe anybody any justification -- but for those of you, dear readers and friends, who have been patiently reading my mental farts and talking me through my quasi-existential dilemma, I offer this reason:

Happiness.

In high school, I had a teacher who actually gave a damn. I mean, she really cared about me and what I could do beyond my normally wonderful grades. Because of her and since then, I've always wanted to teach. When I took that leap of faith several years ago and left my cushy corporate job to go into teaching, it was all together frightening and exhilarating. I have never regretted that decision because when I was teaching, I was the happiest I had ever been. Sure the pay was less, the work hours were long, and the work load was amazingly heavy. But teaching has made me irrevocably convinced that this is what I was meant to do for the rest of my life, in one way or another.

So why not teach here? Simple: I want to teach my kababayans first and foremost. While I am not closing my doors to other future possibilities, I want to first and foremost be a teacher to my fellow Filipinos, make a significant dent on my own society, and instead of complaining about how Philippine society is slowly degrading from afar, I want to be there and be part of the solution. Idealistic much? You betcha. I'd much rather be faulted for believing too much than for believing too little. Credo quia absurdum, dude.

I realize that a lot of Filipinos (in the Philippines or elsewhere) may think that I am throwing away all sorts of opportunities by leaving the US. That may be true, but by not being in the Philippines, I am doing that, too. Frankly, the opportunities that I could have in the Philippines are the ones that I would much rather keep within arm's reach than the opportunities I could have here. I do not believe that staying here will be "better" -- especially because my definition of what is "better" may not necessarily fit the mold of many. "Better" is such a finicky, relative beast of a term.

As with almost everything in my life, whenever I feel like I'm heeding God's call, things just simply fall into place. This decision to go back home is no different. A friend offered to help me out with a ticket (amazingly, at the most perfect time). An uncle-in-law offered to help us with the arduous task of shipping our meager possessions back home. Another friend managed to tell me exactly what I needed to hear (and I find myself going back to what he said over and over again, especially when I am confronted with less-than-sensitive, er, admonitions from semi-friends). And so on and so forth. I know some of you come from different faiths, but I urge you to look beyond the default fatalism that is often attributed to Christians. For lack of a better explanation then: everything just feels right. I am giddy at the prospect of finally starting my happily ever after with my husband. I am beside myself with joy. As what my Nana keeps saying, "Ano pa ang hahanapin? (What else could I ask for?)"

On the flip side, I am heartbroken over the fact that I will be leaving very good friends behind. I must admit that I never thought I would make fantastic friends here -- especially because I was initially shielding myself from this very sadness I am now feeling. Despite best efforts, my husband and I have fallen completely in love with a wonderful group of people that are so difficult to leave behind. Aside from that, I am leaving behind friends from my girlhood that have been with me through many ups and downs and the distance that will separate us brings emotions that run even deeper than sadness. And aside from in-laws and distant relatives, I don't have family in the Philippines.

But if there's one thing I've learned from all these years of ping-ponging between the US and the Philippines, distance is dwarfed by the bonds we make. So while it is difficult to say good bye to the people here, I know that it will only be a matter of time till we will all be together again.

I started writing this entry last week. I waited this long because I was still angry over what someone (who is quasi-significant) said to me. He all but said that I was making a mistake for moving back to the Philippines. If it is a mistake, then I will gladly take the consequences -- but it will be in my own terms, not his. I don't remember giving out a memo that asked everybody else to drink my Kool Aid anyway ;-). So if it's cool with y'all, I'll just keep on being "weird" and embrace my "misplaced nationalism." (And that's the extent of my rant over that little kerfuffle. How's that for maturity? Take that, immaturity!)

Thankfully, the people whose opinions matter have all been supportive. They're hurting, but they're supportive. As I am hurting, but happy to be going back home anyway.

As I stand at this precipice before I take yet another leap of faith, I do not see the depth of the jump. All around me I see the Lord's hands enveloping me and keeping me close...and having a wonderfully strong husband with me doesn't hurt either ;-). There is no vertigo, only excitement.

And so to those back home, as well as those I will be leaving behind...see you soon. :-)

Must. Keep. This. In. Mind.

Read this again in the midst of doing research for work. Good to remember...trying to keep my sanity...trying, trying, trying...

Desiderata
(Max Ehrmann; 1920)

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

"Drawing on my fine command of the English language, I said nothing."

According to my Gmail Funny Quote for the day, that was said by Robert Benchley. I just found it funny and appropriate, especially because that's exactly how I feel today.

I've made the decision to go back home. I wrote this long entry to explain why and I found myself getting frustrated because the more I explained, the more I sounded like I was defending my decision. And I'm sick and tired of defending my decision -- like it was such an awful decision.

So no, I'm not going into it today. I'm sick and I'm in excruciating pain (no worries, this happens every month). So I don't trust that I shall be as, er, nice (?) if I start writing about it now. I feel as if I would be spewing out an unfortunate amount of vitriol -- and I wouldn't know if it would be because of certain individuals who think that their notion of happiness fits in with mine, or it would be just the pain (or the pain meds, hehe) talking.

So know only this for now: I'm going back home. I really don't want to talk about it right now. I just want to say it out loud so that it will become real and I can own the happiness that comes from this decision. My declaration of my intent to go home is my big "*bleep* you" to those who think they know how to live my life better than I. (And I know it's a little futile, since they won't be able to read this anyway, but it's the thought that counts, lol.)

More details to follow, I promise.

I. Do. NOT. Want. To. Be. Here.

At all.

So I have to fill out these forms for my OPT (Optional Practical Training) which will allow me to stay another 365 days more after I graduate. And I am upset. Because (1) I *hate* filling out forms, (2) it's going to cost $340 to just file the friggin' thing, and most importantly, (3) I do not want to be here anyway. I am frustrated and angry and upset because I am exerting so much effort and I will be shelling out a lot of money to do something I don't want to do anyway!!!

Excuse me, I know I try not to cuss in my entries, pero t*ngina talaga e -- nakikita n'yo ba yung kabalintunaan dito? Then why am I doing this, you may ask?

Because life isn't just about me anymore. Life is about how my actions and decisions -- or decisions made for me -- will affect those around me. Because I am trapped in the mindset that being in the US is the best friggin' place to be, that the ultimate aspiration is to become a US citizen, that being here is a step towards eternal wealth, that working here is the only way I will ever be rich, that being rich is the way to go.

Who cares if I'm miserable in this godforsaken country? Who cares if every time I dream of the future, I am always -- ALWAYS -- back home? Who cares if the only time I was ever truly happy was when I was teaching back home? Who cares? Who the f*ck cares?!?!

I do.

And this is why I'm sorry, but I cannot be pleasant anymore. I cannot keep telling myself to keep looking at the friggin' silver lining. I cannot put on a smile to make you feel comfortable. I cannot pretend to be OK with everything just so you'll still be able to think that this is what is best for me.

I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE HERE.

Excuse me while I cry and cuss and scream a little.

Yet Another Attack on Homosexuals -- Beyonce's Music: Extremely Gay

http://worldofalbert.multiply.com/reviews/item/118
I don't know how big this will become, but I cannot NOT say anything after reading this man's review.

I'm bracing myself. *sigh*

In case he decides to put down his review or limit access to it, here's what he said:

"Is it me or is Beyonce catering herself more and more to the gay community? It all started with her breakout hit "Crazy In Love." From its intro of "tan tanantantanan" to the opening lyrics of "uh oh uh oh oh oh oh," Crazy In Love has gay written all over it. Add to that, the disturbing sight of cross dressing baklitas imitating the Beyonce dance move of pumping their chests against each other while shaking their sexually-compromised asses. Then came the "To the left, to the left" song (the title of which slipped through my mind) which became a heavy favorite among the third sex.

Gays love songs with annoying high notes (birit) so Beyonce dished out her vocal acrobatics with "Listen" from the OST of Dream Girls, which is a very gay movie by the way.

Her latest album entitled "I Am Sasha Pierce" (or is it "My Name is Sasha Pierce...whatever it is, what I'm sure of, it has a gay sounding title) sealed Beyonce's fate as the new gay icon. The album spawned two hits, "If I Were A Boy" and "Single Ladies."

Listening to If I Were A Boy could gravely demoralize the heart and soul of a young man. More so singing to it can severly compromise the testosterone level of a straight guy. Watching the music video of Single Ladies at MTV Philippines recently, with that choreography and bitchy gay facial expression, it almost led me to believe that Beyonce is a homosexual guy trapped in a woman's body.

On a final note, I have four words for you, Beyonce...

YOU ARE SO GAY!"

And this was my reply:

"I stumbled upon your review because you posted a portion of it in Pinoy Kami. While I certainly respect your opinion, I am uncomfortable with the automatic negativity that you equate with what you perceive to be "gay." And before you say that you have gay friends and so on, know that I am making this assumption because you gave a low rating (1 star) to what you say is "gay" about Beyonce's music. I would go on to say that you make several hasty generalizations that don't necessarily ring true for all homosexual individuals -- but I really want to limit myself to (a) disagreeing with your review, and (b) asking that you be a little more careful and sensitive with your words.

Again, I respect your opinion as it is your own. This is your own Web site after all. But you posted a portion of it in a public forum, and it was my assumption that you did not mind unwarranted reactions. My intent is not to offend -- nor start a debate, actually -- but perhaps shed some light into what I hope will be an intelligent discussion.

Pax."

It's official...

...when you watch movie after movie after movie on the Lifetime Network, and you find yourself rooting for the mom and not the angsty teenager -- it's official: You're old.

Oi. I sooooo don't want to raise my kids in this country. :p

...because they will have funny looking sunglasses in 2010

This was an especially difficult year for a lot of reasons, but it also ushered in a lot of new friendships and the promise for a more hopeful beginning.

2009 is our make-or-break year. Big decisions will have to be made this year, decisions that will ultimately affect how the rest of our lives will pan out. Aside from starting the year without my husband by my side (sad!), I step into 2009 with a lot of trepidation, hope, and faith.

(Picture taken from here.)

1. Was 2008 good for you? Yes and no actually. It was a tough year to be in the US -- but we made such great friends this year and that definitely takes the sting out of a lot of things.

2. What was your favorite moment of the year? Whenever Chaddy and I went on date nights, the road trip to MD/NY and back, cooking a fantastic meal that a lot of people enjoy.

3. What was your worst moment of the year? Whenever I check on the balance of my checking account. LOL.

4. Where were you when 2008 began? At home with my family.

5. Who were you with? Parents, brother, and husband.

6. Where will you be when 2008 ends? I was with my family again, but Chaddy was back in the PI. :-(

7. Did you keep your New Year's resolution of 2008? No, I don't believe in making them for the year. I am a constant work in progress, each day presents itself with an opportunity to change.

8. Do you have a New Year's resolution for 2009? Nope. More of a bunch of hopes. 2009 will be a year for making huge life decisions.

9. Did you fall in love in 2008? Yes.

10. If yes, with who? With my husband, over and over again. :-)

11. Are you still in love? Yes.

12. Did you breakup with anyone in 2008? Yes, with my compulsive need to shop. I've definitely become more mature with my purchases, LOL! I am far from perfect (ugh, don't get me started with Amazon.com!) but I'm definitely working on it.

13. Did you make any new friends in 2008? Oh, most definitely. Really good friends, too.

14. Did you travel outside your home country in 2008? I don't live in my home country.

15. Did you miss anybody this year? Everybody back in my home country.

16. What was your favorite movie that you saw in 2008? Oh, man. There's no way I can pick just one. Lars and the Real Girl, Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, Wall-E, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button...

17. What was your favorite song from 2008? It's not from 2008, but it definitely has been my anthem for the year. Cynthia Alexander's Comfort In Your Strangeness.

18. How many concerts or plays did you see in 2008? 2 plays and numerous choral concerts.

19. Did you have a favorite concert in 2008? The one in Calvin with the Capella and ACS.

20. What was your favorite book in 2008? I honestly don't know! Too many.

22. How many people did you sleep with in 2008? Just one. :-)

23. Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year? I can't even think of a year when I did NOT do anything I was ashamed of! LOL!

24. What was the biggest lie you told in 2008? "I'm OK."

25. Did you treat somebody badly in 2008? I came across a few pricks this year, so I honestly hope I did. ;p

26. Did somebody treat you badly in 2008? Yes, but it wasn't anybody that mattered.

27. What was your proudest moment of 2008? Lasting the year.

28. What was your most embarrassing moment of 2008? I'm not sure...

29. If you could go back to any moment of 2008 and change something, what would it be? Not putting aside more time to read. I bought several books this year that I haven't even begun to read!

30. Where did you work in 2008? Johnson Center for Philanthropy.

31. Favorite TV shows(s) of 2008? Grey's Anatomy, Brothers and Sisters, House, Jon and Kate Plus 8.

32. Favorite Band(s) of 2008? No bands, more of singer/songwriters.

33. Favorite Food in 2008? The cilantro rice I make. Yummmm.

34. Favorite Drink in 2008? Grey Goose and cranberry juice.

35. Favorite Place in 2008? "The Batcave." LOL.

36. Favorite person(s) to be with in 2008 aside from family? Our friends here.

37. Favorite person(s) to talk with in 2008? There was no single person, but a bunch of them.

38. Hardest thing you had to go through in 2008? Not having financial security. (This economy sucks.)

39. Most exciting moment(s) in 2008? Obama winning!!!

40. Funniest moment(s) in 2008? Daily banter with Chaddy.

41. A valuable life lesson you learned in 2008: "Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

No, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus.

By now, most of you have probably already heard about that poor Wal Mart worker who was trampled to death last (Black) Friday. In the midst of all the fingerpointing as to who should be held liable -- I dare say, or at least, I dare point my finger at those people who actually trampled on him. Que se joda to those who were driven by greed. Yes, I understand that times are tough, that's why people get like that in the face of a big sale. But the fact that you can still shop tells me that you are not in the brink of death due to poverty. If you're poor or "feeling the credit crunch" then how's this for size: DON'T SHOP. Save your money for something more important. Or if you must shop, remember what the real act of giving is all about. This isn't what Christmas is about. If I had known that somebody got me a gift this way, I'd eat it up and vomit it back out in front of them. This is how much this story disgusts me. What a senseless and sickening death. I am beyond livid.

The other day, my husband and I dropped by the local grocery to pick up a few things. There was a guy ahead of us in the check out line. He looked disshevelled, a little dirty, and he looked like he was going through a crunch or two (or ten.) In his hand, he had two items: a cheap 12.99 watch (that actually looked kinda pretty) and one of those scented lotion/shampoo/soap kits. When he was about to pay, he held out all the coupons he managed to gather before paying for the remainder of the total bill. It almost broke my heart because he looked like he didn't have a lot of money, but he still managed to get something pretty for two very lucky women in his life. This is what Christmas is about.

No, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus. There is no beatific, plump, white-haired dude up north ready to reward you for being good. (Yeah, I was that kid in grade school who made the other kids cry because I told them so.)

I look further up, beyond the North Pole, beyond the skies, beyond the stars. Jesus does not always reward me for being good (well, because I'm not always good...) because he doesn't work that way. He doesn't reward and punish based on our meager understanding of reward and punishment. But get this: he loves me despite the fact that I am not good. He died for me. This is my "reward" -- my undeserved reward.

This is what Christmas is about for me. You may have a different god from me, you may call him a different name, but I refuse to think that rabid shopping is what Christmas is all about.

No, no, no, no.

Happiness is a New Box of Crayons

It's that time of the semester again. Ugh. I'm actually doing good time, though. All I have left is one major paper to do, but it's a monster one. I have to make a 12-page theoretical criticism on how magic realism furthers post-colonial Philippine culture's attempt to redefine national identity. (Whew, that was the first time I actually wrote down my topic.) I know. Guh. Much as I would like to do otherwise, I don't have anyone to blame but myself because I thought of the topic myself, hehehe.

Anyhoo, I just wanted to make a quick post because in the midst of all the stress, I managed to find one "weeeee!" moment (ala Liesl Von Trapp when she had her first kiss). I had to submit a project inside an envelope that looks like a house for one of my classes (don't ask, it's too convoluted to explain.) I found myself, on my second to the last semester in grad school, needing crayons to finish a project that looks like something I would assign to my students.

Oh, I can't tell you how excited I was to buy my new crayons! There were so many kinds to choose from! (Do you know that apparently, you can roll them up ala lipstick now so that they won't break or you won't have to peel the paper off when they get stubby??? I know, right?!?!). But I went back to my roots and went old school -- my only concession to high-tech-ness is the now-un-high-tech sharpener attachment.

But -- there really is a certain magic in opening a new box of crayons. All the pretty colors, all of them still clean, all in a neat row...happiness. :-)

So I share my fleeting moment of happiness with all of you. I'll allow myself to work like a madwoman starting tomorrow, but for now, I'd like to be babaw and just enjoy this moment. Enjoy it with me. :-)

P.S. I know I'm too old for stuffed toys, but I can't let go of about 5 of them. These two, Mumble and Grover, are especially dear to me since my then-boyfriend-now-husband gave them to me in a really awesome way. They add an extra dose of happiness. :-)