A time once travelled

Me: Good Morning David, you know today is my birthday!
David, reluctant at first, after muttering leave-me-alone-i-want-to-sleep-i-hate-centre-de-loisir, opened his eyes wide and popped himself up off the bed: Hmm, good morning mama, happy birthday, what’s your gift?
Me: You always go direct to the point don’t you?
David: What? What’s your gift?
Me: Nothing. I don’t want any gift. I already have all I need.
David: What’s your gift?
Me: Well, I already have the two nicest gifts. You and papa! David and papa, I don’t really need anymore than that.
David: Ben, you can have transformers if you want. You know papa and I went to this big toy store and they have plenty of toys there. I like robot transformer, so maybe you can have one.
Me: Well, I don’t need any transformers. As I said I already have you and papa!
David: But I am not a toy!

So the day went by without so much ado! I grew up without big bangs on each birthday and somehow on days like this, it does suit me. Less fuss the better.
Hubby anyhow wanted to celebrate. “Well okay, maybe just a bottle of champagne and that’s it!”

By 7 pm in the metro, sandwiched in the crowded car, the groovy sound of my phone rung loud. “I got bad news, hubby said; someone tried to break in the house, the door lock is completely broken!”
 
Lola picks up David from school. Today is no ordinary day. It’s my birthday. Someone tried to break in the house.
Lola and David couldn’t get in so she called the top-listers of France’s emergencies. The pompier to force-open the door, which failed so they took a really tall ladder that could reach our fourth floor and forced open a window to open the door for lola and David; police, to investigate the “crime” scene. No dead bodies, or “I -know-what-you-did-last-summer letter, you see, still burglary is a crime, so; SOS (emergency) doctor, for lola, who got a panic attack that shoot her blood pressure faster than they launch a rocket out of the outer space; and a locksmith, to repair the broken lock so we could pretend to sleep peacefully tonight.
900 euros lang naman!!!

Hubby, thoughtful as he is, still opened a bottle of champagne, when our little world seemed back to its normalcy. After two glasses and a half, I read my corners on the net. Read some really deep thought-provoking message, I thought it was excellent. But I somehow know the person writing the message, so I highlighted a few words, googled it inbetween quotes and the origin popped on my screen.
Reading someone’s writings, making it sounds as their own. Bugs me. I spent four fucking years in university to learn not to plagiarize. You don’t get D on the net. But no one calls the police when someone plagiarizes on the virtual world either.

Some free world!

Some birthday huh!!!

Oh ok, thanks to my bosses and colleagues who sweetened up the day

Happy birthday to cousin Grace and Kuya Linsu.

I feel whole again.

Hey blog, after a week in silence, the walls are filled with laughter again. The mess, the toys scattered everywhere, little accidents, sudden gasps of pain as I would walked limping after stepping on some tiny soldiers, dinosaurs and plastic cars. Oh, I did miss all that.

Saturday Night.
Before I inserted the key in the keyhole, I paused for a moment pressing my left ear on the door. Listening. Expecting little giggles, the ones that engulf my heart with so much warm and ecstasy. Nothing. Silence. I stooped down, hesitating, checking the gap of the door at the bottom. The light is on. I smiled excitedly and opened the door.
I saw him sitting on the sofa, having dinner at our coffee table. “Hellooooo, my little David! Wow, look who is here! Welcome back!”
He threw his head backward, arching his tiny back, spraying some pasta off his mouth, and laughing. The happy laugh. The kind of laugh that betrays oh-I’m-so-happy-to-see-you. It was more than I expected. I turned around to close the door, and I heard papa came, “hello mamou!”
I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a huge smack on the lips. It helped with two-inch hills to hold him like that. At least I reached up to his eyes. He was hesitant, kind of surprise. He held my shoulders in place, few inches from his face, “wow did you miss me?”
 ”Kiss me again” I answered. He smiled a wicked smile and we kissed, long, hard and wet. The kind of kiss known only to lovers.
After a forever, he pulled my face back gently but purposely, I heard a suppressed giggle coming from his chest, his naughty smiles reaching up deep into his eyes now filled with fire. “You behave girl, your son is just a few feet away!” I untangled my fingers off his hair, gave him one quick kiss and said “I missed you papa!”

After I put on my happy clothes (jogging pants and loose t-shirt), I sat next to David eating while watching Tom and Jerry. “Oh I see, you found the gift I bought for you”. He laughed again. I notice that he runs out of words when he is happy and excited. I gave him a big hug and kissed the top of his head. “You eat and we’ll talk later. I got so many questions for you!”
He perked his head on papa’s direction who was standing few feet away from us. He leaned to me, and whispered “You know mama, I ski better than papa. He fell many times, but I fell only once!” Then threw out a big laugh. He was making fun of his own father! Papa stormed in, “whaaa,I heard that, you are lying!” “What a crook this one!”
I felt my heart did a somersault! Ah, it’s good to hear their catfight again!

“So sweetheart, did you miss me? Because boy, how I missed you two!”
“C’est quoi miss me mama?” (What is miss me mama?)
I smiled. Now back to familiar questioning….
“Hmm, miss me means, hmmm, let’s see… (I was drumming my brain for the right answer, how can I explain it to a five-years old)
“Well, see baby filou here (his favourite toy, the one he never sleeps without). It’s like you went to
Chamonix
and you left baby filou here in Paris. You go to bed and you found out he is not there. That’s when you missed baby filou….  Or missed me.
He shrugged his shoulders off casually and said “but I didn’t forget baby filou, he was with me in Chamonix. I didn’t miss him.”
“Yes you are right, but I was not there. You must missed me…”
He looked at me intently, like I was some kind of lunatic and said “Bah, not really, I was skiing all day!”
I laughed out loud in my head. “Why are you smiling mama?”
“Well, I’m happy to know that you didn’t really miss me. That means you really had a great time skiing!”
Then he went into his litany of what happened during the one-week break.

After a while, he grabbed my hand and planted there a million kisses. I laughed a happy laugh. Warmth engulfing my soul.
“Mama, will you hold me tight tonight when I go to bed. And don’t leave me until I’m sleeping!”
I looked at him adoringly and said, “of course I will hold you tight, just like always!”
(In my head, I heard: yeah, like you didn’t miss me at all little coquin!)

 

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!

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!”

The ocean is big with plenty of fishes.
My ocean is warm and lovely, yours is cold even on summer days.
What chance do we have to find each other in those wide blue waters.
There’s harmony in the tides of the ocean.
It brings us in each other’s arms.
Chance is good. And I thank you for choosing me to be your beloved.

You do not have to be grumpy about how little time I spent scratching your head and back.
I know how much you like it and how it relaxes you. I like being scratched and caressed too.
We both are Pisceans with the pleasures of felines.
You had a full decade enjoying the caress of my finger tips. Don’t get spoiled already!
But we birthed our little David, and he got our freakiness of “scratch my back” too.
Now it’s a competition between you two. And sorry, the smallest gets the price.
Not because he is the smallest, but because his scream is the loudest and the most annoying!
Patience Pisces, you had your turn na, you’ll get your turn again soon.
When David gets a girl who will scratch his back too! He he he!

I enjoy being with you. We are so alike and not so alike.
You are Dory, the fish and I’m a monkey fish.
Does it exist?
We used to call each other “mate”. (oz version).
Then it evolved to lover, to my love.
That’s when we are in loving moods.
Otherwise you call me bitch, boss, devil or lord.
I call you jerk.
And we have a fun ride. Isn’t it funny?
We have our own share of frustrations, and fights
My countless episodes of
“I’m-so-packing-up-and-leave-this-place!”
You call it dramatic, a sure winning stance for Oscar!
Then look at me, still sticking my ageing ass with you.
And you the same with me.
I love you, and love all the minute spent with you!

The signs of times are here.
I call you papa. You call me mama.
The next thing we know we call each other papie and mamie.
Time flies fast pop, this is another year added to your greying head.
In a few days time it will be my turn.
Have you thought about my gift yet? He he he

Your worry of white hair is so vain compared to mine.
I worry about how my bio clock is ticking fast!
Time to give the boy a brother or a sister!
And I definitely need your help when it comes to that!
Before we really, really, really become old-sagging-farts!
What do you think?

Happy birthday mon grand poisson!
I miss you already!

My nose is running like hell! Yet Again!
How can I ever stop it?
And there’s a promise of a flu again!
O Holy Shit!