Monday, February 28, 2011

Stuff Great Stories Are Made Of

28 February 2011

You know how it is that fairy tales, legends and myths have a life of its own as they get passed from generations to the next?  Well because these stories are great, they are incredible, magical, and mystical.  Dragons and dungeons, fair haired Princes and Princesses and the usual happily ever after.

I have a story that needs to be told but I do not have fiery dragons or kingdoms to conquer to spice it up.  Just a plain love story.  I am compelled to share.

Once upon a time, in a fief-dom not far away from here, there lived a young couple who were ridiculously in love with one another.  He was 19 and she was 18 years old but they believed that they were meant for each other and there was nothing else more important in the world.  They have shared dreams and hopes.  They both desired to become medical doctors in the future.

But like most great love stories, the unexpected happened. The girl’s father took ill and this meant that she and her family had to go to a very distant place to have the father’s medical needs attended to.  The goodbyes were painful and yet they vowed that whatever happened, they were meant to be.  The attendant physical separation, they believed, was not to be an obstacle to their love.

The years passed, the world turned and their lives moved on.  As fate would have it, soon thereafter their lives took different turns and they grew apart.  He had become a reputable Doctor and his career flourished as a surgeon.  He married a colleague in the medical profession and had three kids. 

She however, decided that the medical profession was too expensive to pursue, so she settled on marrying a long time suitor, a prominent Lawyer from a reputable and affluent family, and had 5 children of their own.

However, there has never been a single day in their separate lives that they did not think about each other.  Deep in their hearts and souls they wished that each were happy and well.

Fifty years after, (half a century) the Doctor had become a widower; he had lost his wife in a short battle with cancer.  In the last 24 months he had never felt so alone and lonely.  Each day from the day he lost his wife, he had relentlessly tried to find the woman he had loved his entire lifetime, but he never had the luck to have a good lead on her whereabouts.  He accepted with a sad heart that perhaps, there were not a lot of people they knew, were still live to make a connection.

Until one day, the Doctor’s eldest daughter, who had become an Oncologist, was sharing an afternoon tea with her father.  As they often shared their medical stories, she told him that she has a new patient who was just flown in from another country because the patient and the family decided that the few remaining months of the patients’ life be back home.  The daughter continued that she found it quite interesting that her patient and she shared the same first and middle names.  She said it was sad that her patient was a widow and only two of her children seemed to be of any interest to tend to her needs.  The old Doctor looked up and stared at his daughter, and asked, “What is your patient’s full name?”

Albeit rather odd, the daughter never really shared patient’s names before with her father except for details of the medical case, even if she respected her father’s practice; but in this case, she didn’t think anything was wrong.

When the Doctor heard the name, he tried with all the strength in his soul to keep his emotions in check, he told her daughter I know your patient, she is an old friend, and asked if the patient will be allowed visitors.  Excitedly, the daughter said, it might do her good, to have friends visit her patient, after all, the patient only had a few months to live and in the next two days she added, she will release the patient from the hospital care to allow her to spend more time with loved ones and family.  She added that there are cases where medical sciences can no longer help, and we live it up to the Creator.

The Doctor’s heart broke into a million different pieces and he resolved to see the patient ("her") the next day, thinking to himself that there was not a lot of time left to waste, now that he had finally found “her” again.

Early the next day the Doctor was at the hospital.  With the patient then were two of her own children, the youngest son and daughter, both had respective families and have own settled lives.  The Doctor’s daughter, the attending Oncologist, was there too.  When he stepped into the room, his whole world momentarily stopped and he was transfixed at his spot, before his eyes, he saw her, his long lost love, the woman whose face he always saw in his dreams, on his happiest moments and even his saddest days.  Her face looked tired and gaunt, ashen, lined with pain, but to the old doctor, she looked perfect.  When she turned her head to look at her visitor, tears welled in her eyes and she raised her right hand, the only hand free from tubes that were inserted in all the different parts of her body.    The Doctor flew from the door to her bed and hugged whatever part of her body he could, and they sobbed unashamedly.

To describe that scene as eventful is insulting, and to describe their respective children’s reactions to that sad scene as “shocked” is an understatement.  But the very same night, the Doctor called for all of his children to join him for dinner and invited all of her children too, with their respective spouses.  On that occasion he briefly announced that as soon as the patient was released from the hospital, they will get married.  Whilst the announcement rendered almost everyone speechless and stunned, no one uttered or showed any sign of disagreement.  These people were their parents, after all, in the twilight of their years, who are they to ask the circumstances of the decision?

Three days after the hospital visit, the Doctor and his lady love got married in very simple ceremonies in the woman’s old maternal house.  They were both crying and their children too.  It was the most beautiful and solemn ceremony they have ever witnessed.  Even the bride, despite her terminal condition, seemed to glow.  They swear, they have never seen their parents so happy and ironically, so young. 

In the next days, he never left her side and tended to everything she needed.  If they weren’t talking animatedly and she fell asleep, he was there, holding her hand.  The doctor mostly slept at her bedside.

Two weeks after the wedding, he died.  He was holding her hand when he passed, seated right at her bedside.  She was quietly crying.  He was 70 years old.

Yes, the Doctor died.  He never told anyone that he too had prostate cancer and as typical in most medical practitioners, they refuse medical attention and treatment.  Now don’t ask me why, but it would appear, he didn’t want to burden his family with his illness so he kept it to himself. I guess when he said there was not enough time; he really meant his time, not hers, or maybe both.  I wouldn’t know.

She however, lived for around six months more and she too, passed.  She died a month after her 70th birthday. Their urns are beside each other in the Doctor’s family columbarium.  She had instructed her children to change her family name to his, in the inscription of her epitaph.

And whilst a few of my cynical, jaded friends would think this is totally Hollywood, I would say not.  Others who never really believed in eternal love and soul mates would just probably snicker and say, cheesy stuff.  For the believers in true, immortal love, I trust that they know  and they understand.

After all, this is not fiction.  The Doctor was my granduncle.

Love is a symbol of eternity.  It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.  ~Author Unknown

Thursday, February 24, 2011


24 February 2011

The VERSATILE BLOGGER AWARD  was given to me by Amie, author of A Meaning Of Optimist, "Day-dreamer More Elegantly Spelled" @

Thank you very much Amie for the honor of this Award.
(I am thrilled to the bones.)

The rules for after you have been given this particular award:
- Thank the person who gave you the award :)
- Share 7 things about yourself
- Pass the award to up to 10 other versatile bloggers
- Let those other bloggers know you gave them the award.

Now Here Are The Seven (7) Things About Me:
  1. I am second to two kids, my older sibling is a brother who stays in L.A.
  2. I used to think I would grow up to be a boy because I love all contact sports from Basketball, to Football, Soccer and Rugby, including UFC and Boxing
  3. I am a "mean" cook and can whip up an entire Menu Plan for a Banquet
  4. I have traveled extensively but still need to see Greece and Africa
  5. I used to be a bully, I probably still am, but I am what you call, a Bully's Bully
  6. I have been trained in Wine Tasting and Appreciation somewhere in the South of France
  7. I value my family and my faith
And these are the Blogs and Blog Authors I would like to bestow the VERSATILE BLOGGER AWARD:

Thank you for being great at what you do, for creating and sharing yourselves through your powerful, inspiring and awesome Blogs!

Monday, February 21, 2011

Monday Blues and D.M.C.

21 February 2011

I always imagined myself outgrowing this childhood dread.  
Guess I never did and probably never would.

Perhaps it is pretty much similar to why I prefer sunsets than sunrises. 

I find sunsets hopeful.  A promise of a new day.  Its not there yet but it will be.  I also think it is more dramatic.

Mondays are just awful.  If I had some power to change things, I would make a week to be simply, 2 Fridays, 3 Saturdays and 2 Sundays.  Perfect world.  Shame I neither have the power to change the configuration of a week, and some wise guy already invented the 7-day week cycle.  If I get the chance to meet him, I will not even ask him for an explanation.  I'll just vaporize him and set my own terms.

When I get the Monday blues, I don't resort to the most primitive of all defense mechanisms and deny the existence of Mondays.  I would like to say that I take pride in being able to cope with wicked Mondays like any good, rational adult.  
I resolve to make myself what a friend of mine calls, the D.M.C.  A lovely lady named Linda sent this to me, and I have since become an abuser.  When I need an upper that leaves me with tons of guilt and horrible shame, I make myself the Dangerous Mug Cake.  Why dangerous?  Because it takes only 5 full minutes in committing a perfect and godawful  crime!  If you haven't tried this, its about time you did.  And I would love to personally welcome you into the "family"! Benvenuti  nella famiglia!



1 coffee mug
4 tablespoonful of flour (all-purpose, not self-rising)
4 tablespoons Sugar (yes dear, this ain't sugar-free)
2 tablespoons baking cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk (I go for broke and go Full Cream on this one)
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips*
3 tablespoons nuts*
(*means its optional, of course I exercise my options and choose both)
Small splash of Vanilla


Add all dry ingredients together to mug.  Mix well.
Add egg and mix thoroughly.  Pour in milk, then oil, and mix.
Add chocolate chips and nuts, and Vanilla and mix again.
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes on high.
When you see the cake rising out of the mug, smile.  You're doing it right.
Allow to cool a little. (You can choose to tip it out of the mug and plate it if you desire.  I don't.  Too tedious.)  
On really sad days, I top it with some whipped cream and sprinkle more chocolate chips.  (I warned you, its criminal!)

EAT.  Can serve two.  But why share?

With one serving of this little mobster, I am ready to face even the Loch Ness monster.  Bring it!  Dite ciao al mio piccolo amico!!!

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Understanding Men - My Own Daring Generalizations

 17 February 2011

Growing up in a male dominated family has its perks.  Quite a lot, honestly.  
One of which is knowing how they think and operate.  I am what you call a guy's ideal girl friend, am one of them.

(This picture is randomly posted just to tease my girlfriends and my BFFs.   Moving on, I would dare venture into a realm where I almost always end up arguing with my friends about myths they believe about men, or BOYS, in general.  To begin with, it takes two lifetimes (not one) for a boy to turn into a MAN.  Don't hate me for saying that.  I know lots of 60-year old men who are still boys.  My father for one, I think became a man at 60.)

As a little girl, I spent more time playing games with the boys than prettying up my Barbies.
I always played "the bad" guy or the anti-hero; the bank robber, the Indian tribe leader, even the Joker.  My older brother and my male cousins all played out the hero roles.  I flipped and tumbled, grazed my knees and elbows, played dead and I took every shot they fired.  The boys were always so amused, cackling with laughter each time I died or pretended to lose in the game.

They were happy enough I played the villain roles even if that meant a few privileges.  I would always get the biggest slice of the pizza; the first and corner cut of a rectangular cake; double or larger servings of ice cream and get their chocolates and "gummies" to swap my candies with, every Trick or Treat.  If they ever complained, I'd tell them they'll have to play their games without a bad guy.  Of course they wouldn't have that.  They need to be the hero and the star, so someone needs to be villain. And that's the deal.

As teenagers, I pretty much hanged out with the boys, off school and some weekends.  I know of all their girl conquests, their trade secrets and dirty tricks.  (Oh yeah, it took a helluva-guy to ask me out because I had unwanted bodyguards 24/7 plus boys are extremely territorial).

I never really outgrew "male" bonding, I still find guys a lot easier to spar with than women.  Even at the workplace, they hang loose, since they prefer to gossip at the bar.

Boys are easier "read".  I know I am going to be in a lot of trouble writing this up, but this is how much I learned from them and I just want to share a few.

First, boys are very simple.  Not a lot of put-ons, garbage, or what have yous. They don't like gray areas.  When they are hungry, they eat.  Thirsty, they drink. If they don't like a certain movie, they won't watch.  They get sleepy watching chick flicks. They prefer action, sports, science thingies, explorations and adventures, sexy women, not necessarily in that order.

But this is what I see and hear all the time.  It just gets me when women answer noncommittally.

Boy: "Do you wanna eat?", 
Girl: "Oh I dunno, do you?"  
Boy: "Well, if you want to, let's eat. I'm starving." 
Girl: "Oh gee, I dunno, I'm not that hungry." 

Men are creatures of logic.  One plus one is equals to two.   Not talking, not smiling, not looking at him, therefore, equal to angry.  Simple eh?  If you're not angry, but just a little ticked off, then for crying out loud, just say I am pissed off..  Otherwise, you are forcing the guy to make an intelligent guess.  Boys, and men, are extremely "lousy" guessers.  More often than not, they miss the point. Being clear and coherent is something I know men would truly appreciate.
Man:  "Baby, are you angry"?; Woman: (without looking, stares elsewhere) "No." 
Man" "Why don't you wanna look at me?"; Woman: "I just don't want to." 
Man" "Are you upset?  Anything I said or did?"; Woman: "Well, is there anything you have said or done that I should be upset about?"
Man: (long pause) "You wanna tell me about it?"; Woman: "No.  You should know."
Man: (another long awkward pause) "Are you hungry? Do you wanna eat?"; Woman: (breaks down, starts sobbing and talks incoherently, some that I know of, scream)

Boys have an attention span of a 4-year old.  Lengthy arguments and discussions bore them like hell.  (bores me too, actually).  Abstracts, concepts and all that jazz give them "brain freeze".  Not because they're lacking in "smarts".  They just prefer to be doing something else than arguing about some "dead horse" issue or answering "testy" questions.  Research has also shown that verbal skills generally develop much later and slower for boys.  Ergo, the vocabulary for lengthy and rhetorical issues are just way too tiring for them. So why bother?  

And NO, men do not have the ability to think about you every second of the day.

Boys and Men "zone".  They have a particular time in a month, for some in a quarter; when they "zone".

The ZONE is a place where they are alone in their thoughts and moods.  They would seem highly incommunicable.  It's not permanent.  Pretty much like PMS for some women.  But women should respect that zone.  It's private and intimate.  And exclusive.  It is not the best time to pick a fight with men when they are in the zone.  This has nothing to do with their feelings about their loved ones. Just leave them be.  Who knows what goes on in there?

Boys will always choose their "buddies" (even their toys) over girls.  It is useless to force them to choose.  It's downright stupid to ask them to.  They have the loyalty of a "pack".  If you are in love, dating, or married to an "alpha dog", you better make sure you know where your boundaries are.  They will choose the pack.  If the pack calls them because they need him, he will be there.  So get out of the way.  Have a hair spa or something.  Go shopping with your girlfriends.  Again this does not mean your man loves you any less.  Its just totally different.  Women need to learn to deal with that.  I am wise enough to never underestimate the power of "male bonding" and their love affairs with their toys.

Men (boys included) by genetics, are polygamous.  Whilst to-date, women still try to muster up the skill to compartmentalize, men were born with compartments in their hearts.  

It's a huge building complex for some.  There's a room for their "one true love"; a room for their "what ifs"; a room for the "one who got away"; a room where Jessica Alba is, beside the room of Megan Fox, and lots more.  

Okay, if you're crazy, you will ask your man what room you belong to.  That's just so typical.  The truth is going to kill you.  So, don't ask.  Women always tell men to tell the truth and not to lie.  But the men know better.  They need to lie.  Not just for their survival but for the good of all women.

Mom:  "Sweetie, is Mommy pretty?" 
3 year old son: "Yeth Mommy.  Mommy ith the pretti-eths" 
Mom: "Aww, but isn't Kevin's Mom also pretty like Mommy?" 
3-year old son:  "No, only Mommy ith pretty."

And you go on your way, happy as a French fry even if you knew your son was lying between his teeth. They just have the skill early on.  If I want the truth, I would never ask a straight guy. 

Woman:  "Hon, Is my butt too big?"
Man: (looks up from newspaper) "No honey, your butt is perfect." (goes back reading)
Woman:  "No look at it, I can't fit into my jeans, my butt looks like a ton of lard.  Maybe I need some lipo-suction surgery".
Man:  "Hmmm....?  (not looking)  Looks perfect to me."
Woman: (starting to get pissed off) "I said, take a look, I'm so fat.  My butt is all over the place."
Man: (puts paper down on breakfast table) "Uhm ...what? Oh okay, if you say so baby, maybe you should cut down on those blueberry muffins".
Woman:  (shouting) "Wait a minute, did you just say I'm fat?  Did you just imply I should go on a diet?  How dare you! Do you hear me complain about your receding hairline and your sagging beer belly?  Do you?" (starts to whimper ...) 
Man: (stands up, shakes his head, passes gas and leaves)
Women can't handle the truth.  I know I can't.  Not very well.  So, I let them lie.  It saves lives and relationships.

Very important to note, men are almost always hungry.  Everything makes them hungry. Food is the way to a good conversation.*

*You could have smashed the car's radiator but if you tell him you wrecked the car ONLY after a full course meal of rib eye steak, mashed potatoes and a good helping of Caesar's Salad, and his favorite ice cream dessert plus some fresh brewed coffee, he'll just say he will call the Insurance Company next day.  Absolutely no fireworks.  Try it.  Works like a miracle.

Men have a very low tolerance for pain, emotional and even physical. Do you notice how  men act like they're dying when they only have a bad cold?  They whimper, whine and wince like they are inflicted with some kind of a terminal malady.  That should explain why men would have been extremely lousy at childbirth which is why we take that on.. Arguably, you would say, they seem to be able to recover quite easily from broken relationships and failed romances.

On the contrary, they never really recover.  (look I am talking here about "Men" in general, not the deviant wife-beater, woman-abuser, pathological sex maniac, retards and rapists albeit they belong to the same specie).  Remember the congenital compartments in their hearts?  Yes, that's where all the sad stories are hidden and tucked.  Women move on.  We don't keep these horror histories hidden in our hearts, we don't want to.  Men really have a hard time dealing with the pain of rejection and failure but they would like to "appear" they have moved on. Not true, they are way too skillful in hiding it in their heart's little rooms.  

There are several other things I can think of, for instance, men can't multi-task.  Hell, no.  I refuse to push my luck by asking them to do more than one errand at a time. Yeah, just one. Should I want anything bought in the grocery, I list it down, using bold markers. They tend to lose the Post-It notes, so its better to slip a piece of paper in a place where it is safe, their wallets, or right on top of the dashboard. 

Why do men forget anniversaries?  Of course they do.  It's a little detail.  They're kinda big picture, y'know.  They see the entire canvass, but not the smudge on the frame. They will probably remember the scent that you used on your first date, but not the date when it happened.  Cheesy.  But if you seriously want your man to remember dates, put an alarm on their mobile phones.  Then save it as a recurring event.  hahahaha .....

I am sure you can think of other male oddities, feel free to add up to the list.  I believe it takes a lifetime to build a relationship so it is well worth our time to understand what can go wrong given the stark differences.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

My Paintings - Lilies (Flora Series)

14 February 2011


Simple flowers, yet stately and elegant.  
Unpretentious, pure, delicate; signifying devotion.

Can mean beginnings, and even endings;  never transitions.
Passive and  devoid of passion.  Albeit enduring.

The Lily is a Mayflower.  
Muses of dewy, springtime days.

Bouquet of hopes and promises,
Like a nightingale's song of wishes.

Tiger Lily

"And the wand-like lily which lifted up, As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky."

 -  Percy Bysshe Shelley


Thursday, February 10, 2011

How Many Things Have I Lived Through?

11 February 2011

I saw this Quiz and I just couldn't help myself.  Sue me.  I suppose this would help me, know me more.  (smiles)  Just thought I'd share.

I have read a lot of books.
I have been on some sort of varsity team.
I have run more than 2 miles without stopping.
I have been to Canada.
I have been to Europe.
I have watched cartoons for hours.
I have tripped UP the stairs.
I have fallen down an entire flight of stairs.
I have been snowboarding/skiing.
I have played ping pong.
I swam in the ocean.
I have been on a whale watch.
I have seen fireworks.
I have seen a shooting star.
I have seen a meteor shower.
I have almost drowned.
I have been so embarrassed I wanted to disappear.
I have listened to one CD over & over & over again.
I have had stitches.
I have had frostbite.
I have licked a frozen pole and got stuck there.
I have stayed up til 2 doing homework/projects.
I currently have a job.
I have been ice skating.
I have been rollerblading
I have fallen flat on my face.
I have tripped over my own two feet.
I have been in a fist fight.
I have played videogames for more than 3 hours straight.
I have watched the power rangers.
I attend Church regularly.
I have played truth or dare.
I have already had my 16th birthday.
I have already had my 17th birthday.
I've called someone stupid.
I've been in a verbal argument.
I've cried in school.
I've played basketball on a team.
I've played baseball on a team.
I've played football on a team.
I've played soccer on a team.
I've done cheerleading on a team.
I've played softball on a team.
I've played volleyball on a team.
I've played tennis on a team.
I've been on a track or cross country team.
I've been swimming more than 20 times in my life.
I've bungee jumped.
I've climbed a rock wall.
I've lost more than $20.
I've called myself an idiot.
I've called someone else an idiot.
I've cried myself to sleep.
I've had (or have) pets.
I've owned a spice girls CD.
I've owned a britney spears CD.
I've owned an N*Sync CD.
I've owned a backstreet boys CD.
I've mooned someone.
I have sworn at someone of authority before.
I've been in the newspaper.
I've been on TV.
I've been to Hawaii.
I've eaten sushi.
I've been on the other side of a waterfall.
I've watched all of the Lord of the Rings movies.
I've watched all the Harry Potter movies.
I've watched all of the Rocky movies.
I've watched the 3 stooges.
I've watched "Newlyweds" Nick & Jessica.
I've watched Looney Tunes.
I've been stuffed into a locker/I have stuffed others into lockers.
I've been called a geek.
I've studied hard for a test and got a bad grade.
I've not studied at all for a test and aced it.
I've hugged my mom within the past 24 hrs.
I've hugged my dad within the past 24 hours.
I've met a celebrity/music artist.
I've written poetry.
I've been arrested.
I've been attracted to someone much older than me.
I've been tickled till I've cried.
I've tickled someone else until they cried.
I've had/have siblings.
I've been to a rock concert.
I've listened to classical music and enjoyed it.
I've been in a play.
I've been picked last in gym class.
I've been picked first in gym class.
I've been picked in that middle-range in gym class.
I've cried in front of my friends.
I've read a book longer than 1,000 pages.
I've played Halo 2.
I've freaked out over a sports game.
I've been to Alaska.
I've been to China.
I've been to Spain.
I've been to Japan.
I've had a fight with someone on AIM.
I've had a fight with someone face-to-face.
I've had serious conversations using IM.
I've forgiven someone who has done something wrong to me.
I've been forgiven.
I've screamed at a scary movie.
I've cried at a chick flick.
I've watched a lot of action movies.
I've screamed at the top of my lungs.
I've been to a rap concert.
I've been to a hip hop concert.
I've lived in more than 2 houses.
I've driven on the highway/been on the highway.
I've driven more than 400 miles in a day/been in a car that went more than 400 miles in a day.
I've been in a car accident.
I've done drugs.
I've been homesick.
I've thrown up.
I've puked on someone.
I've been horseback riding.
I've filled out more than 10 myspace surveys.
I've spoken my mind in public.
I've proved someone wrong.
I've been proven wrong by someone.
I've broken a leg.
I've broken an arm.
I've fallen off a swing.
I've swung on a swing for more than 30 mins straight.
I've watched Winnie the Pooh movies.
I've forgotten my backpack when I've gone to school.
I've lost my backpack.
I've come close to dying.
I've seen someone die.
I've known someone who has died.
I've wanted to be an actor/actress at some point.
I've done modeling.
I've forgotten to brush my teeth some mornings.
I've taken something/someone for granted.
I've realized how good my life is.
I've counted my blessings.
I've made fun of a classmate.
I've been asked out by someone and I said no.
I've slapped someone in the face.
I've been skateboarding.
I've been backstabbed by someone I thought was a friend.
I've lied to someone to their face.
I've told a little white lie.
I've taken a day off from school just so I don't go insane.
I've fainted.
I've had an argument with someone about whether cheerleading is a sport or not.
I've pushed someone into a pool.
I've been pushed into a pool.
I've been/are in love.
I have lived through 107 things. Find out how many things you have lived through by taking the survey at TheTopTens

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