One of the nicest individuals I've ever had the pleasure of working in close proximity is our part-time deputy [A]. She was, initially, a scary 40-ish Englishwoman in mine eyes when I started working in PS but has gone on to become one of my confidantes cum chatmate in the office. We talk about everything under the sun, from my former flatemate who I miss to pieces till now (a HUGE shoutout to you Oishi-san!!!) to my hits & misses with men in jolly ol Londra. We share so much laughter and her wit is to die for! It all started when I bought her what she calls, 'the perfect banana.' (Oomph!) After that, we have had on occasion had to work together on some projects and ultimately would talk about life, love & the lot. I tell her all my mishaps with men and she tells me to 'bring it on!' She says that men in these parts never really talk to the girl and it is the girl who does the asking out. Whilst I am not anymore fresh off the boat having been in the country a little over ten months, the whole aspect of asking someone out is still not something I can easily do. I can readily tell Jules to ask out the I.T. guy she's crushing on and give her a blow-by-blow of to-dos, but ultimately, this is an ardous task that I feel isn't me. [A] would always tell me that if I wanted to get anywhere with these boys, I simply had to do one thing- ASK.
Last Friday, as we took turns drowning in hordes of paperwork, we decided to up the ante by chatting about the travails of dating. She told me that I was a very fascinating find. (Indeed?!?) The fact that my personhood came into question was unexpected, albeit appreciated. I didn't get what she was saying initially, but she took it to heart to explain very plaintively that she was an Englishwoman, purely born and raised here, with nary a doubt; whilst I was predominantly Chinese in looks and virtue (more or less). And I didn't look anything like the typical Mainland arrival (since I wasn't!), yet every nook and cranny of me was screamingly Oriental. But the insides of me was discovery du jour from the get-go and no one would be able to size me up down pat with a look. She intimated further that although I was born in Pinas, I didn't look anything like the clientele she had come across at work either; and conversations with me would obviously show that my influences were very American. She said she could imagine how endlessly fascinating all that would be to anyone from here.
Admittedly she had made quite a salient point. Although I've always been easy in my skin, undoubtedly proud and unembarrassed by my mixed heritage, it is easy to see how being esconced as one of em everday statistic here, leads one to believe I am as normal as the next person. And to a degree, I am. At the end of the day, we all go to the toilet, don't we?
I told Cindy about it as she helped me packed and I realized that my legacy was never something I fully appreciated until [A] made mention of this special quality. Cin said that it was a very positive thing to verbalize. And that I must have made an impression on my colleague.
It gets me thinking that all this is magnified because I am here. Back home, I always thought I was like the next person in my clique. All Tsinays who work by days and party on weekends. We live with our family, spend their money and never have to budge an inch where housework is concerned. (Does that make us brats, I wonder?) Or does it make us blinder than most? I honestly have no answer. But looking at me know, in all humility, I think I've managed to claw myself away from the rudiments of parent-dependence and ironically, this has brought me closer to my mommy and daddy. I still can't cook to save my life, although I do cook to save myself from hunger. I don't drive a car anymore, but I get to my destination nonetheless. I worry about budgeting and scrimping, and shopping weekly has become an absentee habit which I don't think about anymore. When my mommy calls to ask how I'm doing, I always say I'm well, despite the fact that I'm really wishing she'd hand over some, the way she used to do back when I lived with them. All these changes have brought me to where I am, closer to independence and inches away from all the easy fun I used to be so accustomed to.
I am where God wants me to be, being the individual He wishes me to be. That much I know because that is basically all that matters.
18.7.08
17.7.08
Random thoughts of Superstardom (AKA a tribute to Melissa)
Ｕn。
Deux。
Trois。
Quatre。
Cinq。
Six。
Sept。
Huit。
Neuf。
Dix。
-
Now say this with loud-out laughter & you will be where I am when I woke up this morning. A friend of mine and I had language swap last night. It makes me laugh at the memory. French VS Chinese... does it get any better than this? Albeit a little bit o' shy (shy ka jan), I have always embraced anything unknown as a positive thing, lodging it into my Folder of Character Building, preferring to see it as something that adds rather than an insurmountable b**ch of a task. I always said I would learn to speak a European language and maybe my time has come. I am officially a polyglot-in-training.
When I woke up yesterday, counting to ten in French was something I would never have thought of. Till I had a random thought last night. Why not learn? (Twas like being with Nicole, I had bits & bobs of Italian flying in & out of our conversations, and at least now I can say I can swear like an Italian bystander!!! Hahaha)
My mom who is my best friend wonders in amazement till now how she managed to sire a Tsinay with such banana-ish thoughts. The proud Fil-Chi (i always think Flip-Chi hahaha). She & all my relatives wondered how I had grown in such close proximity with both my siblings yet be so individualized in my mental packaging. It is a study of contrasts that I am an open book...and the biggest fluke of it all was that although I had managed to find someone who was crazy-attracted to me, in the 7-8 years that we were together, I wasn't able to snag him to fall in love with my beautiful-strange mind. And in the end, it was what made all the (IN)difference really. One time, casually, a cousin of mine who I stayed with for a few whilst visiting the then shopping capital of the orient (can you say Hong Kong?) had told me that I was sort of the cousin from Pinas that my aunts would carry on in hushed whispers. Yes, that piece of sh** was me. (Think Joy Luck Club!) They all knew me by reputation, as the 'wild one.' (I feel this is sort of exaggerated. Really. No. Really.) Intrinsically, I sort of built that reputation because of the way I carried myself in and out of everyday life. It is a strange battle of inner angels, I reckon. Thinking back to my childhood, I really did read too much, think too much and talk too little. My thoughts relegated to the backroom of my mind, shielded and protected...and this profundity came out when I decided to write them down.
In my youth, I remembered being bothered by my thoughts. I think being a voracious reader at such a young age really made all the OOMPAH in me.
Today I received a box of clothes and goodies from my mom. My birthday comes in a fortnight & I am warmed by her gifts. Everyone at work says I am lucky to have a mom like mine. They don't have to say so. I know so. My mom is cool like that. There is nothing I don't tell her & there is no one who comes before her. She is truly my best friend. The only superstar I bow to. (Leos dont bow...I'm the queen!)
Deux。
Trois。
Quatre。
Cinq。
Six。
Sept。
Huit。
Neuf。
Dix。
-
Now say this with loud-out laughter & you will be where I am when I woke up this morning. A friend of mine and I had language swap last night. It makes me laugh at the memory. French VS Chinese... does it get any better than this? Albeit a little bit o' shy (shy ka jan), I have always embraced anything unknown as a positive thing, lodging it into my Folder of Character Building, preferring to see it as something that adds rather than an insurmountable b**ch of a task. I always said I would learn to speak a European language and maybe my time has come. I am officially a polyglot-in-training.
When I woke up yesterday, counting to ten in French was something I would never have thought of. Till I had a random thought last night. Why not learn? (Twas like being with Nicole, I had bits & bobs of Italian flying in & out of our conversations, and at least now I can say I can swear like an Italian bystander!!! Hahaha)
My mom who is my best friend wonders in amazement till now how she managed to sire a Tsinay with such banana-ish thoughts. The proud Fil-Chi (i always think Flip-Chi hahaha). She & all my relatives wondered how I had grown in such close proximity with both my siblings yet be so individualized in my mental packaging. It is a study of contrasts that I am an open book...and the biggest fluke of it all was that although I had managed to find someone who was crazy-attracted to me, in the 7-8 years that we were together, I wasn't able to snag him to fall in love with my beautiful-strange mind. And in the end, it was what made all the (IN)difference really. One time, casually, a cousin of mine who I stayed with for a few whilst visiting the then shopping capital of the orient (can you say Hong Kong?) had told me that I was sort of the cousin from Pinas that my aunts would carry on in hushed whispers. Yes, that piece of sh** was me. (Think Joy Luck Club!) They all knew me by reputation, as the 'wild one.' (I feel this is sort of exaggerated. Really. No. Really.) Intrinsically, I sort of built that reputation because of the way I carried myself in and out of everyday life. It is a strange battle of inner angels, I reckon. Thinking back to my childhood, I really did read too much, think too much and talk too little. My thoughts relegated to the backroom of my mind, shielded and protected...and this profundity came out when I decided to write them down.
In my youth, I remembered being bothered by my thoughts. I think being a voracious reader at such a young age really made all the OOMPAH in me.
Today I received a box of clothes and goodies from my mom. My birthday comes in a fortnight & I am warmed by her gifts. Everyone at work says I am lucky to have a mom like mine. They don't have to say so. I know so. My mom is cool like that. There is nothing I don't tell her & there is no one who comes before her. She is truly my best friend. The only superstar I bow to. (Leos dont bow...I'm the queen!)
12.7.08
Slow and Steady.
WELCOME TO HANGOVER ZONE!!! was the signage on my thought bubble when I roused this morning. Much to my misbegotten chagrin, at approximately ten to 8, I told myself I will never walk the drunken path again! (Right.) Once again, who was I kidding? I loved the cider and all that down & dirtydancing. (So it was a gay-friendly pub & I was acting so gay that people might have thought I was a transvestite...my gay friends rock...) But all that gay-talk aside, i had a B-L-A-S-T!!! Who cares, Rodney my personal gay-dar extraordinaire loved my dancing. (Just to say it's Saturday morning as I write this, so I'm not drunk anymore, but I haven't answered any call of nature so technically the alcohol is IN!!!)
I went to my friendly neighborhood Starbucks for a Skinny Latte perk me upper (extra shot of espresso if you please!!!) and was told by my very friendly Starbucks lady that "you are lucky to be the very pretty one, not like me...I am ugly."
Uhm.
What a simplistic overgeneralization. Because I always laugh and exchange pleasantries with her, she is somewhere in my comfort zone. But still. What am I to make of that statement? Where do i start?
Should I tell her Royal Slovakness that this Oriental (l)ass has been a singleton before the Summer Olympics commenced in Athens four years ago?
Or that I've dated enough froggies to fill my entire sitting room and Mr Prince Charming is still M.I.A. (missing in action)? I just keep missing him, but I blame this on train delays so terribly rampant in everyday Londra.
Pray-tell how should I begin to tell her? That my mindset now was a work in progress because I had to start at the bottom.
Like i said, my internal Leonine sunshine makes people quickly jump to the assumption that my life is more interesting than it really is. It is easy for people I know to think that I date left & right and that I have it so easy in this city. They forget that the grass is always greener on their side. In actual fact, life has never been harder and the jump to responsibility and maturity has never been as/more necessary. Forced to good is the apt term. Make no mistake though, I don't think it is bad thing to be force-fed good things. As I've said, they came to find me in their own time (well unlike Prince Charming, they don't seem to be affected by train delays). But here I am now, More responsible, more mature, more reflective, more open & happier...saner... taking it all in one big step at a time. (I was taking baby steps when I landed!)
When I think of that innocent not-so-little soul I left at home, I feel I've changed so much in so little time. I wonder how my parents would feel seeing me now. I still have a lot to figure out but I do have a huge die in my psyche that tells me how many jumps I can make at this turn and have little bits of clues that cajole me to move further on. Jamie always told me I should listen more to what my heart tells me because it is from a very good and pure place. Cin always tells me that my instincts about people are very good but I have to make that step to be more confident about trusting myself. Bunny always tells me I'm the big little gal who's still unassuming and overly optimistic, but i feel i am less so now.
Why all these thoughts? All from one statement said in Starbucks as I waited my turn to be served a skinny latte?
My generally (over?)reflective self found this essay online. It is one of the things I seek out from time to time because of its timeless message. Have a read if you get a chance. Long but definitely worth the read. Kent Nerburn never got it soooo right. I can tell him one thing, reading this at different stages in my life has made the definitive mark. When I was with Mr Wrong some years ago, all I could think of was, ''It's not like this. Why not?" And I left. Now all I can think of is- It will be like this the next time. One of these days, the trains will be on time and I will find him. And i will think that the Olympics in Athens was merely yesterday...the Beijing Olympics starts very very very soon. *Wink*
I went to my friendly neighborhood Starbucks for a Skinny Latte perk me upper (extra shot of espresso if you please!!!) and was told by my very friendly Starbucks lady that "you are lucky to be the very pretty one, not like me...I am ugly."
Uhm.
What a simplistic overgeneralization. Because I always laugh and exchange pleasantries with her, she is somewhere in my comfort zone. But still. What am I to make of that statement? Where do i start?
Should I tell her Royal Slovakness that this Oriental (l)ass has been a singleton before the Summer Olympics commenced in Athens four years ago?
Or that I've dated enough froggies to fill my entire sitting room and Mr Prince Charming is still M.I.A. (missing in action)? I just keep missing him, but I blame this on train delays so terribly rampant in everyday Londra.
Pray-tell how should I begin to tell her? That my mindset now was a work in progress because I had to start at the bottom.
Like i said, my internal Leonine sunshine makes people quickly jump to the assumption that my life is more interesting than it really is. It is easy for people I know to think that I date left & right and that I have it so easy in this city. They forget that the grass is always greener on their side. In actual fact, life has never been harder and the jump to responsibility and maturity has never been as/more necessary. Forced to good is the apt term. Make no mistake though, I don't think it is bad thing to be force-fed good things. As I've said, they came to find me in their own time (well unlike Prince Charming, they don't seem to be affected by train delays). But here I am now, More responsible, more mature, more reflective, more open & happier...saner... taking it all in one big step at a time. (I was taking baby steps when I landed!)
When I think of that innocent not-so-little soul I left at home, I feel I've changed so much in so little time. I wonder how my parents would feel seeing me now. I still have a lot to figure out but I do have a huge die in my psyche that tells me how many jumps I can make at this turn and have little bits of clues that cajole me to move further on. Jamie always told me I should listen more to what my heart tells me because it is from a very good and pure place. Cin always tells me that my instincts about people are very good but I have to make that step to be more confident about trusting myself. Bunny always tells me I'm the big little gal who's still unassuming and overly optimistic, but i feel i am less so now.
Why all these thoughts? All from one statement said in Starbucks as I waited my turn to be served a skinny latte?
My generally (over?)reflective self found this essay online. It is one of the things I seek out from time to time because of its timeless message. Have a read if you get a chance. Long but definitely worth the read. Kent Nerburn never got it soooo right. I can tell him one thing, reading this at different stages in my life has made the definitive mark. When I was with Mr Wrong some years ago, all I could think of was, ''It's not like this. Why not?" And I left. Now all I can think of is- It will be like this the next time. One of these days, the trains will be on time and I will find him. And i will think that the Olympics in Athens was merely yesterday...the Beijing Olympics starts very very very soon. *Wink*
11.7.08
Happy Birthday to my wonderboy Alex.
Ahhhh...Alex.
When I'm with Alex, I'm sure to be at the George & Dragon. While I am far from my ultra outgoing self here in Londra (my disclaimer is that I am not in Pinas anymore!), I must say that the gay-friendly vibe gets me going. The rain was very daunting but I found myself in Old Street, happily to celebrate a rainy day birthday for someone who's provided me with his ray of sunshine this side of the planet.
I will always remember Alex because he encouraged me to find my writer persona. Even helped me get printed on the broadsheet. Not once. Not twice. Thrice!! (Count 'em!!!)
I love ya Alex. Many happy returns today and bon viaje as you find the next chapter of your life in the Far East.
Walk on my good man.
3.7.08
Things that Make Me Go Mmmmm 。。。
(Or to be more spot-on: He kissed me!!!)
I was kissed.
(Now say this in ClueDo fashion and it will sound like the way it is going in my head)
By a stranger. Out of the blue. In the Victoria station. With his lips.
I was stunned!!!
A complete stranger?
Yes.
A bloody good-looking bloke. (But still...)
I stood there stunned.
He came to me and gave me a huge smile. Kissed both my cheeks. Took my left hand in both of his, kissed it too.
Then smiled again. Then walked away.
I was still standing in the same spot 20 seconds later.
The attendant (who looked like a Jamaican) saw the whole thing, looked at me and said, "I'm guessing you don't know him?"
I shook my head vehemently. "Never seen him before in my life."
And she said, ''He was cute. And it's ok. Your boyfriend don't see...if he did, it's trouble..."
Say what?!?
Sing it with me now... You must remember this... A kiss is just a kiss.... (despite being stolen?)
Apparently for the attendant lady, that is a Y-E-S!!!
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