A time once travelled

I do not know where and how to start this entry. I do not know how to title it and I do not know what to write. I have had plenty of things to say before events happen, but as soon as they are done, I’m lost. So I write this piece whatever comes to mind.

This year has been crazy, to say the least. And it’s not yet over. All the travels we’ve done have been actually planned by hubby and I had no single contribution to it when it comes to planning and organizing. At the end of they day, he just informed me of what had been booked and reserved, what are the itineraries. Except perhaps for that four-day trip back to Nice, where my office exceptionally gave us one free day off. I helped him book my ticket. And that was an achievement on my part. Shame!

Flying is my worst fear. It started since I have David. I used to enjoy the whole package. Packing, tension at the airport, the waiting to board, the sound of the pilot giving details of the flight, the air hosts giving air safety instructions, the whole shebang! Heck I even have good appetite on board, and I used to even sit by the window so that I can witness the take off and landing.

This year has been a tornado to my system. I agreed the trips to US and Canada because it was a promised by hubby that he would bring me to that continent once I get my French nationality. I could not say no. The first trip to the south, landing in Marseilles was to save time. TGV would take us more than five hours compared to an hour and a half by air. I mean really, we had breakfast in Paris and lunch by the beach in Frejus. The second trip was due to the fact that I want to be with David.

The trip to Venise came with an argument. In fairness to hubby, he planned it months ago. And to my crazy brain months ago, was like long ago so I said yes. The day before the trip, I got cold feet, and wanted to cancel it. I just freaked out knowing that David will be left in Paris with lola and that I and hubby will be flying. You know, my nutty brain is quite capable of inventing morbid images quite nasty to keep myself insane.

So every take off, every landing I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack. My brain calls the names of all heavenly creatures. Then want to shut it off by red wine. That helps. Really. I try to rationalize the air stats, the hundreds of flights going to every possible corner in the world. Every time my feet feel the steady ground and the sense of weight back again, I feel so dumb stupid. Really stupid. I even find myself talking “what the fuck were you so scared about!” Nuts!

So yeah, there’s one more trip to do before the year ends. Another fear to face. I told hubby days ago, this year is crazy. I do enjoyed it all and surely will enjoy the coming vacay to Phils, but really I won’t do it again. I made him promised that next year, if we get to travel, it would be not as much as this year!

He makes fun of me alright! And I said, anyway, I don’t get “French fried” every year, we do not celebrate 10th anniv every year, and summer comes only once per year! And well we are not millionaire to maintain this lifestyle!

He laughs. Confirms that I’m nuts! Because he loves flying.

Some people just have it. I don’t!

I have full four days off this weekend. My son is in the south enjoying the sea, sun and is obviously having a grandiose time judging from our phone talk…

Four empty days + son in the south = temptation

This is one temptation I would gladly and wholeheartedly commit. Although the sight of my bank account gives me palpitation. I close my eyes on that, and just cave in what my heart desires.

David left Sunday morning. The hours that followed seemed terribly empty. Pa and I were like zombies doing nothing, killing time.

By night, we were glued on air france website, checking available flights to Nice. After 30 minutes, I had my flight booked for Thursday night. My head throbbed with the same rhythmic beat of my heart. Excited to be with my son. Fear of flying. Tense of the status of my account. David’s faces swarming in every cell of my brain.

Four empty days + son in the south = Trip to the South

I have to exit work at 5:30 today and head straight to the airport!

See yah!

To say that this blog is inactive is perhaps the most understatement of the year! It’s close to dead, me thinks! Sorry for those who had been visiting and get the disappointment.

I do not promise to keep this updated often; I just don’t have the time and energy to do it. And to write … er to actually gather your thoughts, search the write words and arrange them in such a way that letters glue together to make them comprehensible has now become a daunting task. I am drain out of energy. End of working day is like having.a.long.sex.without.getting.the.orgasm.

Anyways, my son is back in Frejus for three weeks with his lola. I’d like to think I have more time for myself and this blog. But I doubt. I opt to having more orgasmic activities now that I don’t turn into a dinosaur fighting King Kong every night. Ha.Ha.Ha. Joke. I have to behave, my brothers might be reading this post, if they are not busy doing their own er o….. activities!

So, I’m planning to write the highlights of our US and Canada trip last May, our vacation in Frejus last July, David’s changes and things in between in the posts to come. It’s just a plan, let’s see what I can actually achieve. I do not even have drafts. Type and post na ni.

If I’m a member of PPP, I would declare myself bankrupt already. Long time ago.

For this post, it’s something about meetic. For some who do not know about it, it’s a website dedicated to single people looking for single people. Simply put.

Today, I got a message on my cellie. Someone was trying to reach me while I was yakitaking on the phone with my mother. A guy. introduced himself first and called me a name I do not recognise. Excuse me I’m no Amélie! I listened to it intently trying to decipher a French tongue with a heavy accent in it.

I discovered that my “répondeur” can actually record long messages.

So single guy is looking forward to meet Amélie, that after several virtual exchanges he thinks they have lots in common and is excited to meet her in person. *laughs*.  It would be nice to have a drink somewhere and get to know each other more. *Pause. Ehem.Laugh*. This time I can’t contain myself and let it out. Lol! Bloody me, this is how single people of opposite sex arrange EB! I wonder where the hell Amélie is!

Single guy finally ended his pleasantries leaving his real name, his pseudo on meetic and his phone number. To make sure that I got the message, I mean Amélie, he repeated it twice.

For a few stolen sec I imagined myself desperately single. In Paris. During a long dead. dead summer break… and being Amélie! A big wicked grin wrinkled my face.

Snapping back to reality, I look at my phone, lost. Is this really mine!?

 

David’s mother’s day greetings to me!
“Come little bird, stand still on my finger;
I have a big secret to tell just for you;
The most beautiful mama in the world
No one else but My mama!
Go little bird, fly,
and tell this big secret to my mama!

ang saya!

… papa got me a signed copy of this from his business trip in london …

… thanks pop

On the first week of March, I had invited about twenty adults and children for his 4^th birthday. It had been a courageous act on my part and total confidence on papa who would have done all the grocery shopping. See, party was supposed to be on Sunday, March 30, but since I work on Saturday, I would have entrusted everything on papa to find all the ingredients for pinoy recipes, not to mention cleaning the flat upside down. Although I said I had full confidence on my partner, still it would have been a riot.
BUT, Party was cancelled. On his big day, he was rather not in the mood, had less appetite, and just sitting in front of TV, half lost. He was not his usual boisterous-let’s-fight-let’s-play-dinosaur self. He complaint of stomach upset. But when we asked him if it was painful he said no. The absence of cold, fever and cough made me wonder what was wrong with him. He was not in pain, but he was also weak.
On the night of 28^th, the fever finally came out. I had baked some cakes for his classmates as they had scheduled the following day a little party at the school for the three children, David included. In the morning, he was still feverish, although it lowered down as soon as I gave him the medicine. I called the teacher to ask if it was possible for David to come over just to blow his candles with his friends and then return home afterwards. I brought the party hats, plates et al, and as it was, they were just waiting for us.
It was over after 30 minutes. David wanted to stay a bit, and the teacher said it was ok. Pa had taken the leave that day, which was a comfort really. By mid-day the school called telling pa that David was feverish. He called the “SOS medecin” (emergency doctor), and we found out that he had a throat infection which was contagious. David had to be isolated from other children for at least two days.
The Sunday party with our friends was cancelled. Still, I had to use all the stuff I bought for his dinosaur theme party. He helped me decorating and was enjoying himself.
The pictures speak for themselves.

I have never really felt comfortable of having my birth date announced, but yes, hell I’m doing it here anyway.
Pa has been bugging me of what I want for my day. I sure make it difficult for him.  Not intentionally. Really. He has been running me down with some stuff which I coldly refuse, for my own good reasons:
1. Iphone – it doesn’t fancy me at all. To each his own. But really what do I need it for? It doesn’t suit my lifestyle. If you call it a lifestyle!  I even hardly answer personal calls!

2. Ipod – no thanks. My attention span measures to a toothpick at the moment. I cannot force to multi-task my brain to listen-to-music-while-reading-a-book-and-watch-out-dodgy-co-passengers-in-the-metro. It’s too much, my brain will leak out in my ears and nose!

3. TV flat screen – yeah and have David wreck it.

4. PDA – please read no 2. And it’s not like I have such a varied-hectic-schedule. On working days at 10:00 I know exactly where my butt is sitting!

5. Laptop – please read no 2 and 4.

6. Wii – yeah and plug it in the oven since David is dominating the TV and my pc! And as if I have enough energy already!

7. Pa has given up on perfumes, make up, clothes and girly burloloys!

Pa is angry. Of course he does! Who doesn’t? Many would jump on any of the thing above. I know my brother is so freaking proud of owning item no 1. I’m happy for him. Maligaya sya eh!
I kid pa to buy me a homey magic wand. Where I can just flick it around and meals are deliciously cooked, dishes washed, clothes and linens washed, ironed and tucked away, flick it around the house to conjure squeaky clean rooms, flick it on David so that he stops screaming and stops bugging me of playing the weak dinosaur. Of course pa, thinks I’m so gone mad!

So what do I want for my birthday?
- earning lots of money without having to work hard!
- two more kids, another boy and a girl, not necessarily in that order. And may I add a cheap-mega-cool-supernanny!
- have my whole family flown here in Paris in a private jet! Mr Travolta are you reading this, can I borrow one of yours?
- Spend lots of quality time with my family there in Phils and here in France and somewhere in between the Gulf!
- buy the whole building we live in and get rid of the occupants (not us!) I do not hate them, I just want to have the whole building on our own
- buy sarko some fully-functioning-brain!

Well, that’s a lot to ask for. But I believe in miracles.
AND. Well.
Hey, it’s my birthday; I’m allowed to have a bit of fun no?

I rushed today in the metro forgetting the garbage behind. I had one-hour window to go to the embassy to procure requirements on dual citizenship and last-minute shopping for a girlfriend’s newborn, all to be done on the other side of my line.
As I settled in my favourite seat; (I always get it because my train is where it starts or ends, depending on your direction) I like that seat because it’s wider and my kneecaps are not in danger of being knocked off. Unfortunately, today it wasn’t the best spot.
A father and his three-year old daughter were sitting across. As I pulled my celly to call papa, the father was telling his daughter not to fuss around because, well, I might be the police with camera in my hand! I threw the father a lopsided smile and look at the girl and gave her wink, who threw me giggles back.
At the second stop, a guy, big and baldy sat one seat next to mine and happened to drop a gaze on the father-daughter. Instantly, the father threw nasty words at the man. He was asking why he was looking, why he gives a quizzical look at him then to his daughter. Then he answered himself saying, “is it because we don’t look the same? That she is white like you and I am not, that she has blond hair and I don’t?”
My brain said: shit, not today, with some mentals!
The man turned to me and silently gave me a puzzled look. I tried to avoid it, but it’s one of those times when you just have to gape and look back. He turned to the father and said something incomprehensible. I found myself suddenly very interested in the stain on the floor. Shit where is my book! This is one of those times when you really, really need a book!
The man defiantly said he wasn’t looking at them. The father said he did, and that it was nasty. The man replied that if he did have a nasty look it wasn’t because of the mismatched physical appearance of him and his daughter but because, he was just recovering from an operation and still feeling sick. I feel myself shrinking, dragging my eyes off from the stain and glue them on the receding scene of the dark tunnel as the train speed forward.
The next twenty minutes was a news flash of the father’s life as he voluntarily indulged his miserable auto-biography to the man, and how he, an rmi-est, survived a cancer and how lucky he is to be with his daughter. I had the feeling the man sitting next to me obligingly buried himself in the conversation, half-there, half-not, just to un- create further unwanted scene. His replies were technical.
As we approached the terminus, I stood up heading for the exit door. And I heard the little girl’s voice: “papa why are you crying? In between sobs I heard a gurgled replied, “because I love you my baby!”
As the train stopped, the door opened, the father gave his hand to the man and said, “I’m sorry for being rude, I hope you’ll be fine!”  What a mental!
On the way back, six hours later, I was sitting across a woman in her mid-sixties, our knees almost touching, her forlorn, joyless eyes flooded with silent tears!
I arrived home, found the tied garbage forgotten in the kitchen floor. Turned my back on it, searched my celly: “Pa, call me with your video-phone, I really need to see your face and David’s!”