Scarlette

(The following post is a fictitious rendition of the author. Any person/s or events that may appear or have happened in the narration respectively are purely fictional. This is just a try of the author at fiction writing).

Let me call her Scarlett. It’s a favorite name. She’s attractive, maybe? But not a beauty to behold. I met her a decade ago, just a casual acquaintance. Her life is a figure of speech. Sometimes she talks and acts in irony, sometimes she’s hyperbole, at other times she’s simile, but whatever she is, I’m falling for her. She lived a colorful life. One that is a good tele-novela material for soap opera writers.

She talks sweetly and moves gracefully. Physically, she’s a good catch for a man like me who is baiting for a temporary partner, who could fill in my loneliness and solitude. I would be so proud to parade her in front of friends and acquaintances because she’s got a body oozing with attraction.

Why am I attracted to her? I love the way she talks, I enjoy her company. She’s someone who could ease my loneliness; she’s someone who could make me laugh. She’s someone who’s always and always and always willing to listen to me especially when I am down and lonely. Every day of my life, I want to be with her. Every day of my life, I long for her presence. But my longings are just desires that could hardly and impossibly be fulfilled. I am not a free man, though she is.

I would just be contented of her company, of good conversations with her. She understands me while my spouse does not. She cares for me especially when I am sick. It’s too bad I met her in my life when I am no longer free. She’s free but I am not. She's so young but I'm so old I can pass as her father. Her age is almost half my age.

How can I tell her that every passing day I am falling for her? How can I tell her that I always miss her company and the good conversations we have.

Oh Scarlette, what have you done to me. Why are you turning my nights into sleepless nights? I am starting to lose my appetite but sharing lunch with you occasionally gives me a very good appetite. It’s too bad I can’t have you as my own. But why were the others had you? Can I be different from them? Can I not be as good as them? Oh Scarlette, can you give me a chance?

I knew from the start that you would come into my life, but just for a fleeting moment. When you came, my existence turned into chaos, nevertheless, I enjoyed it. We understand the same language. We talk the same issues. We never disagreed on conversations; in fact we enjoyed sharing each other’s lives.

Just a look into each other’s eyes, I know we already understand each other. Just a snap of the fingers, you understand me. Just a movement of my body, you understand the message I am sending you.

Someday, when I will be free, can you be my girl, Scarlette? But you are my girl right now, isn’t it? Action speaks louder than words, Scarlette.

Photo: tellyazz@flickr.com

From Russia with Love

For the past few weeks, I had secret rendezvous with a great writer from Russia who added much color into my world of blogging. After Colors of My Soul, then came a new site, The Colors Magazine, her new-found love and baby. After all, both her sites are interesting and appeals to readers of all ages. Maybe, her new site is a perfection of her older one.

She has added more colors into it. Aside from writing from her soul, she now writes for a wider circle of readers. She has added more interesting topics from questions and answers about relationships to a literary corner which deals with fiction and poetry, and all you wanted to ask about lifestyle plus articles on cuisines and recipes, not to mention exploring from Russia with love.

I have been a passionate follower of hers. She gave me much inspiration to write about life, love, experiences and to craft some poems. Because of her, I became a better and more interesting writer, though I can't boast yet of a wider circle of followers since my blog site is just 6 months old.

To you Lena, you are my star-blogger from Russia with love. It only proves that blogging transcends race. You maybe a Russian and I am a Filipino but we understand the same language in the world of blogging.

Lena, keep on! I am proud of you. Please consider me as your big sister. 

Rainbow Connection

Oh how I love this song, popularized by Lea Salonga of the Miss Saigon fame. That was, when she was yet a kid. You may listen to her at youtube and she will cast a spell on you as she sings with her young angelic voice.

Life is like a rainbow. In high school, we were taught to memorize the colors of the rainbow using a certain code, ROYGBIV. R stands for red, O for orange, Y for yellow, G for green, B for blue, I for indigo and V for violet. A very helpful code. But for me, the colors of the rainbow represent so many things in life.

When I am mad and angry, I am RED. I’d wish my eyes would be in hot flaming red when I am angry at monsters roaming around. These monsters are the people who are out to destroy other people, believing that I would outsmart them. I’d love to call them monsters and yes, I’ve vindicated myself of my poor existence.

I would be an ORANGE when I feel a little bit forgiving, almost at the verge of anger. I would be thinking a little bit better than my opponents, the monsters. Hey, this is the real me? I am normal and I feel very normal when I feel anger, rage, fury and antagonism. Who’s not, anyway. I will tell you, you’re not a normal human being if you don’t feel red and orange. Reality check, my friends.

I couldn’t define myself when I am YELLOW. Maybe, it’s a sign when I am sick, when I am down with the flu. But when leaves turn yellow, it’s a sign that fall and autumn is at the bend.

GREEN means new life, new hope. I want to deal with green positively. I’ll never want to take the negative thought of turning me “green with envy”. Because green for me means a positive outlook in life. I love green because it represents my love for nature, my love for the scenic green, and the mountains with tall green trees, the vast ricefields while the palay are still growing up. The color green is pleasant to the eyes. It gives a refreshing feeling every time we look at the green panoramas around us.

Believe it or not but this is my favorite color. BLUE doesn’t mean I am blue, and I am sad. Blue to me is a color that gives me peace and quiet and contentment in life. It feels so cool in the eyes. My bed sheet is blue, my pillow case is blue. The curtains in my room are blue. The painting on the wall of my room is blue. And my electric fan is blue, my drawers are blue. Blue is everywhere in my room. And I love to stay in my room because it gives me a feeling of peace and contentment.

Between blue and violet is INDIGO. It’s hard for me to define and relate indigo to life. I would only interpret it this way. When you’re not blue and you’re not violet, then for sure you are indigo.

VIOLET represents women. Others would relate violet to mourning. But for me, it would represent women’s liberation. Gone were the days when women are left at home to care for the kids and the needs of the husband. We celebrate women’s day every February and that calls for a celebration of our liberation. Let’s associate violet with the positive and never with the negative.  

Below are the lyrics of the song Rainbow Connection. Let me share it with you and you may give it some serious thoughts while you associate or relate it to your real-life situations. 

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors.
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

And what’s in a rainbow? It makes us a hopeless romantic, a lover, a dreamer. Because we may believe that when we wish our wish may come true when we see a rainbow in the sky. There’s also a promise that at the end of the rainbow is a pot of gold.

Photos by: flopper @flickr.com; Nicolas Valentin @flickr.com; Zeb Andrews@flickr.com

Dad

As I was rummaging through some files and arranging them for proper safekeeping, my attention was caught by a card which my kids sent to their father during one of his birthdays. Inside it, I saw a poem which they dedicated to their father and I was so touched. It was written in a whole bond paper. Let me share it with you.

 DAD 

Remembering our childhood with you

Brings joy and tears to our eyes

   Joys for the times that you cared for us

With such tenderness like we were prince and princesses

Tears for the times when we would feel your

Painful but loving whip and thunderous voice

But now you work far away

We can feel your lonely absence

Though we know that the reason

You’ve gone is for our sake.

Still we miss you dearly,

We miss to hear your hearty laughter

We miss to hear your fatherly voice

We miss to feel your sweet embrace

We miss to feel your painful way of teaching us

What is right from wrong.

But most of all, we miss your presence with us Dad...

If we could only have wings to fly

We would fly miles between us

So that once again, we would feel the sweet

And tender love of a father like you.

We love and missed you so much,

Michelle, Kevin and Kenneth

2day is d 12th day of October, 2006 

P.S.

It could be gleaned from their message that they wrote said poem for their Dad becaused they missed his presense and everything a father has to offer for his children when he's with them. 

Photo: by bsnugs @flickr.com

Fantastic Dual Role

For quite some time now, I’ve already been used to playing dual roles to my kids at home – a father and a mother at the same time. Modern age dilemma you may say. Yes, probably. It is already an accepted norm. The father leaves home to work outside the country, thus leaving the mother alone to care for the children. But this sounds better than the opposite where the mother leaves to work abroad and the father will be left to tend for his children, thus assuming a more complicated dual role.                       

Playing both father and mother sometimes have some glitches. Imagine the thought that you’ll gonna have to accompany your boys to a doctor for the circumcision procedure? I have three kids, two are boys. When their age for circumcision came, sure, you guessed it right.

I could hardly find the right words to console them of the pain they underwent after the operation and most of all, I can’t do the task of cleaning and dressing their cuts so they’re left to themselves to the painful routine. I wanted to cry. I felt that I should not be the one doing this and that and if their father was around in those moments, he should have done it patiently. But thank God, we made it. My boys’ wounds healed through my fatherly supervision. I felt I was superman then.

My boys have regular visits to the barber shop. Again, while watching the barber cut my boys’ hair, I would again feel sad and reminds me of the thought that if their father would have been around in those moments, it would be to his delight to see his boys grow up and enjoy barber visits. But he tries to make up every time he’s with them. He would cajole them to go to the barber shop every after two or three weeks. Making up for lost times you know.

But being able to cope up with the demands of being a father and mother at the same time sounds fantastic isn’t it. My husband would always console me and would tell me that I should not be sad about it because in doing so, I deserve a medal for Supermoms. And that would surely put a smile on my lips, and it will make my heart fat and it will inflate my ego. Supermom, huh! Anyone out there? Join my club!

Obsessive-Compulsive Behavior

(This post is supposed to be included in my last post, however, as I can see it, it will surely run to more than four paragraphs, and as I promised earlier, it will become a separate post if that’s the case).

Based from my readings, Obsession is a compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or an unwanted feeling or emotion, often accompanied by symptoms of anxiety. It is a compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion.

Whether we like it or not and more often than not, most of us suffer from such  disorder. 

 It is a feeling which you could hardlyunderstand, which you would like to correct, which you would like to avoid and which you would like to understand why it happens to you.

Unlocked Doors and Windows

In my case, when I was still not aware what it was about, I also suffer and am still suffering from such weird feelings and disorder. There were instances when after hitting the bed and almost falling asleep, I would suddenly get up and seem to realize that I forget to check on the lock of doors, but at the back of my mind, I felt I already did the routine

but my subconscious dictates that it’s not. There’s a debate running in my mind. Hence, I would get up and check on the doors if they’re really locked and the truth is they are. Anxiety. It happens every time. And if I do not check it and then fell asleep, I would have nightmares that evil spirits are roaming outside my window and are insistent of entering my bedroom. Sounds eerie, isn’t it, but it happens every time. The only assurance that I will not have nightmares is to get up and check on them dutifully.

Frequent Handwashing 

There were also several instances that I wanted to wash my hands all over again, feeling they’re always invaded by germs. I just wash, wash and wash my hands. Obsessive- compulsive behavior. That’s how my daughter defined it. She would tell me that feeling that way always would mean I have an OC-OC behavior, a short term for such disorder. To cure it, I wash my hands with alcohol and doing it will give me the assurance that I am already germ-free.

Impulsive Buying 

While at the mall, I tend to buy things that I don’t really need, things that are not  significant or not important, things that would fan my fancy, things that I feel will give me hidden satisfaction and my daughter would again remind me not to be an impulsive buyer because  that’s again an OC-OC behavior. I hate the urge but I could hardly give up on buying those things. To counteract the disorder, it will be a real struggle on my part. I would start musing to myself that I really don’t need this or that. Or if there’s a possibility, I don’t bring enough money so that would be a great excuse not to go shopping for unnecessary stuffs coz I don’t have the means to buy it compulsively.

Undesirable Smell

When I wash dishes, I would smell it to check if it was really totally washed and all unwanted smells and stains were removed. I even developed the habit that before I use a spoon, fork, glass, cup, plate, I must smell it first and if did not pass the quality control rendered by my nose, I will not use it and will get another. It’s a very disappointing behavior especially when you are eating in public. But I would tell myself when I eat in public that my etiquette and proper breeding should overcome my disorder. And it works, you know!

Phonatic 

And yes, my phone, though I believed I already placed it inside my bag before I leave for the

office or before going out of the house, I would always  panic and feel I forgot to bring it with me. You know, I need to always bring it with me because it is an indispensable gadget for me, especially so because my hubby always wanted that once he calls me or text me I should not let a second or a minute pass that I should answer him, thus, to be sure that I have it with me, I would remind myself that once I step out of our main door I should send him a message or look inside my bag if it’s already there. That will solve my dilemma.

Well, it sounds weird and crazy, but it is a disorder one can have, though against one’s conscious will. If you have one, tell me and I may help you with simple but proven effective out-of-the-blue remedies which don’t cost a dime or two.

Photos from:

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/102/281619607_4183618446_m.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/photos/careenin/3105180902/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/52657704@N00/

A Circus of Thoughts

A  Brief Introduction

When I was teaching in high school way back in 1990-1993 in one of the private institutions in our town, one of my teaching loads is a Journalism subject for all sections of fourth year students. I enjoyed teaching the subject, especially on the topic "Layouting". In here, I would teach several types of layouts one may have in the printing of a school paper, one of which is a circus layout where the content of the page is thrown-out in all directions. As I lay in bed tonight (the time now i s 11:04 pm), my mind is in a circus. You don't mind if I share you a few of these circus thoughts? However if my thoughts runs to four or more paragraphs, it may qualify as one blog post.

Scene I – Desperate Housewives

I borrowed six CDs for these TV series. And I am already into the fourth CD watching it. It's like marathon reading, only, its marathon viewing. I was trying to encourage my hubby while he was sill around that we watch together the said series, but he was dead-set and preferred watching violent, dramatic, and comedy movies. But we have the same preference and we both like the Zorro series of Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones and the wacky and action movies of Jacky Chan like Rush Hour 1-3 and Around the World in 80 days.

 Now that he left for  work again, I am into what I've been dying to watch: Desperate Housewives. It's a story of four best-friends-desperate-housewives. There's Bree, the widowed friend; Gabrielle whose husband is in prison that until now I am not yet sure why; then there's a hard-working-bread-winner Mom and the fourth one, the most desperate from among them to be married wearing a wedding gown to who-cares-who-he-is. But I will not be sharing you about their stories. It's all about the setting of the intimidating stories of each one. Honestly, I like the place, the neighborhood, the houses, the big lawns, the gardens and the  various beautiful, colorful flowers that adorn the well-manicured yard and of course, the awesome ambiance, the cozy and beautifully decorated interior of their homes. It's a rich neighborhood judging from the kind of houses that was erected from corner to corner. 

I am not a hypocrite, I tell you, but I dream of living in that kind of neighborhood. Maybe someday, when I am not yet too old to enjoy such place. Who knows, but it will be a dream come true. I would love to decorate and tend a beautiful house and garden, someday.

Scene 2 – Homesickness

It's hard to cope with homesickness. But thank goodness, I learned how to cope with it. Thanks to my kids and yes, to blogging. They complete my existence in the every absence of my hubby. This is the second night that I will be alone for the next eight months. Sad isn't it? Let it be. I have work to pre-occupy me. My hubby is even encouraging me to 

continue being involved in school activities where my kids, yes my youngest kid is studying. Well, that would be as I am the President of the federation of PTCA. 

We must sacrifice for the sake of our kids, for our kids' better future. We want them to go to one of the best schools and finish their chosen vocation. But we have plans that when we're old enough, he will stay with us his family for good, after all our kids have finished studying. Isn't that great folks?

Scene 3 – Desperate Employee

If there are desperate housewives, then there are desperate employees. I am one. What about it, you may ask. And why? Well, I am dying to attend a seminar, for professional advancement if that's the right term, because career advancement doesn't sound right, in my case. Then what? The head of my head told me that my immediate head doesn't want me to go for reason that I could hardly fathom. 

Getting personal, isn't it? Definitely, he doesn't want me to learn better, to be updated of office procedure. Well, to H_ _ _ with him. Ouch…am I at liberty telling him that? Just wait and see till suddenly I would be instructed to pack my things up, and leave for good. Ha ha ha. What a mess. I'm just so mad, mad at this head! Am I the headache or the other way around? Think of it, my head, c'mon! You don't want to jeopardize my career, huh! If there exists any career, ha ha ha! A dead-end career, maybe!

 

Scene 4 – I Hate My ISP    

Though it would be an added expense on our family budget, I would have to sacrifice other things, if only to have an internet access at home. But mind you, it was just a couple of weeks while we're into using it, then after that, there's totally no signal from it. I just hate it! Why? As if I didn't learn any lesson. I had tapped the services of the same ISP a few years back then have it disconnected after three years because it's not giving us our money's worth. And again, I was enticed with their new promo and I grabbed the opportunity, but, hello? It's back to normal as usual, the normal of which is, it's not working most of the time. It's almost two weeks now that it's not working.

I called the Customer Service yesterday afternoon, but until now, it's still not working. Now honestly, I hate you, ISP! I am now contemplating of an early divorce from you. Your service is not worth my bucks. 

Did you fall asleep reading my circus of thoughts? Well, I am already sleepy, too. Good night folks, its 12:08 in the morning. I have to catch more hours of sleep so I will not be working like a robot in office tomorrow. (readers, I discovered that this is a 1000 words blog post)

 Photos by:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lacouleurdesmesreves/

http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/510QtAZsQuL._SL500_AA280_.jpg

http://www.flickr.com/photos/hirosan/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/deniz_/

If that isn't LOVE. . .

We love to share our thoughts endlessly

We take pleasure in watching sunsets together

We both love nature of any form

We both wish to live in a peaceful, quiet place.

We enjoy cooking together

We enjoy doing the laundry

We enjoy cleaning our abode

We enjoy going to the market.

We love soft, classical and sweet music

We love watching movies of any theme

We both love eating ice cream

We enjoy the taste of exotic, fun foods.

If that isn’t love

The ocean’s a myth

There’s no star in the sky

And the sparrows can’t fly

If that isn’t love

The ocean is dry

There’s no feeling like these

If that isn’t love.

Photos by: (Claire);

If that isn't LOVE

We love to share our thoughts endlessly

We take pleasure in watching sunsets together

We both love nature of any form

We both wish to live in a peaceful, quiet place.

We enjoy cooking together

We enjoy doing the laundry

We enjoy cleaning our abode

We enjoy going to the market.

 

We love soft, classical and sweet music

We love watching movies of any kind

We both love eating ice cream

                                                                                   We enjoy the taste of exotic foods.

 

If that isn’t love

The ocean’s a myth

There’s no star in the skiesAnd the sparrows can’t fly

 

If that isn’t love

The ocean is dry

There’s no feeling like these

If that isn’t love.

 

 

 

You Are . . .

Chinky-eyed

Curly-haired

Fair complexioned

With sensuous lips

And a seductive smile

Who walks with grace and confidence.

I love how you talk

I love how you smile

I love how you look at me

I love that hearty laughter of yours.

You love to talk sensible things

You enjoy the company of intelligent and good people

You are a visionary, a no-nonsense advocate of great things.

Oh, how I love and adore you,

That, God only knows.

Photo: Dreams by jinximages

Why Ladies today are still single?

(This post was taken from a friend's Tagged Message from a certain Do M. I  find   it interesting for anybody out there who may find it interesting, too.)

1. The nice men are ugly.

2. The handsome men are not nice.

3. The handsome and nice men are gay.

4. The handsome, nice and heterosexual men are married.

5. The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men, have No money.

6. The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men with money think we       are only after their money.

7. The handsome men without money are after our money.

8. The handsome men, who are not so nice and somewhat heterosexual, don't         think we are beautiful enough.

9. The men who think we are beautiful, that are heterosexual, somewhat                 nice and have money, are cowards.

10. The men who are somewhat handsome, somewhat nice and have some               money and  thank God are heterosexual, are shy  and NEVER MAKE THE               FIRST MOVE!!!!

11. The men who never make the first move, automatically lose interest in us           when we take the initiative.

        NOW, WHO THE HELL UNDERSTANDS MEN?

      'Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's our  job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into  something you'd like to have dinner with.'

      SEND THIS TO SMART WOMEN WHO NEED A LAUGH AND TO THE GUYS YOU THINK CAN HANDLE IT!!!  Dr Ha!

Who Am I?

About me? Somebody said I am gullible. Others said I am fickle-minded. A few others told me I am hard-headed. Well, I am what I am.

I am a hopeless romantic who loves to eat ice cream of which my fave flavor is Double Dutch by Selecta. I am not out here to promote, huh!

I enjoy and love nature and would have preferred living in a farm where there is peace and quiet and only the chirping of birds, the smell of fresh hay, the foggy mountain view and the endless green panorama would always greet me every morning.

I love the beach too with its cool water, course sand all over my feet and the sound of waves coupled with the cool sea breeze.

I enjoy reading books since the time I learned how to read. Mills & Boons, Silhouette Romance, to name a few, when I was in high school and college. And I became a fan of Ludlum when I was a little older.

If blogging has been a craze twenty years back, then by this time, I am already a seasoned blogger, for every one who cares.

I am a music lover. I love classical, mellow music; the ones that remain timeless, whether they are the 50's, 60's to 70's chart toppers, I still love listening to them.

I like dabbing perfume in my body with the brands of Victoria's Secret, Sarah Jessica Parker, Estee Lauder, Clinique Happy Heart, to name a few.

Describing who I am would be an endless struggle. But to cut it short, I am Amity Me, your friendly-neighbor-blogger. 

Nostalgia – Episode I

One morning, on one special day, with one special person inside one special ride; Something wonderful, something reminiscent and something beautiful transpired.If this is a dream, I don't wanna wake up.Yes, I want to continue dreaming until it will have a happy ending.

He held my hands, I held his. He smelled my perfume and told me it was sweet.
I smelled his perfume and told him I like it and it was sweet, too.
He looked into my eyes; I met his gaze, too.
Something reminiscent happened.

Few words were spoken; as if the presence of each other on that moment was enough.He missed me as I missed him, too. It was a long time since we saw each other.
Oh how I love this person, and though he won't say a word or two; I felt that he missed me, cared for me, and love me, too.

He again looked into my eyes, but we remained speechless.
I looked into his eyes and my desire was to shower sweet little kisses on his cheeks; On his forehead, on his lips, but rather kissed his nape.
Then again, he held my hands and I tightly held his, too.
Speechless, few words were spoken, but the message is clear.
Oh, how we missed each other terribly.

I heard knocks, knocks on the door. . . Oh no! I don't want to wake up, please. . . not now . . Please, tell me this is not just a dream, please tell me this is really happening?!?.
"Hey, you're now late, it's past 7 in the morning". Whoa. . . and it was just a . . .D R E A M!!!