Gypsy, Roll On

Even in the midst of chaos, I had time to do a redesign. I’m starting to hear the underlying bass throb of impending change, and I wanted the blog to reflect it.

I try to do what I can to organize my life, but right now it insists on having a topsy-turvy, nomadic feel to it. I’ve become the long-skirted gypsy wandering about in the open fields, my face turned to meet the sun.

Tonight, I am packing the kids’ stuff and setting up means for their care. Tomorrow, we get up before the crack of dawn to travel south to the other island, where I will leave my boys in the care of grandparents and the yaya duo.

Next week, I’ll be in Manila to visit (lay to rest?) old ghosts and meet new spirits.

Next month, I’ll get to see autumn, at last.

My web sis Gigi sent music my way some time ago, a lovely CD full. One of the tracks I was happy to discover was about a gypsy and a “Sweet Melissa.”

We are all gypsies at heart. Our travels through life, terrestrial or other, take us out of the usual, and more often than not, changes us to the core.

If I have learned anything from all the serendipitous events of this year, it’s that time does not travel in a straight line. Time weaves its way fluidly through us; past and present collide with impunity, love sinks and resurfaces, people meet, move away, and meet up again, what is old becomes suddenly new.

So see you all somewhere, some time.

Bondage Bit

Lunch hour shopping is great because it gives you a short leash on the spending. I tugged on that leash yesterday and landed an itty-bitty ring that was chained to a bracelet. I liked the side bit of goth-bondage going on. It’s a fun look for me. And the ring is adjustable, fits any finger.

Now what, shoes to match? Heh.

Reciprocity

From the Black Book

Out of the blue fog of the airport he races, arms full of packages, long legs making short work of the distance between gates.

I see him first, of course, and then moments later, I see the wife, struggling to keep pace. As though by law of reciprocity, she turns her head and sees me. “Where to?” she mouths the words at me. Deliberately, I smile in return the four-letter name of my destination, feeling like a giddy fish, trapped behind coffee shop glass.

Outside the glass, her words were audible, and so he turns his head towards their direction. I watch him pause mid-stride as he catches my eye. I hold that gaze with the clarity of a camera lens. His face breaks into a wide smile, and he follows that with, for him, an out of character jaunty wave.

I do not watch their backs disappear into the dwindling line of people at Gate 5, but I knew the moment that they were gone.

Maybe it’s the coffee, the lack of sleep, or the soporific disorientation at airports, but suddenly, I am ecstatic.

Niño Bonito

Sorting through my pictures the other day, I happened to glance at this red row of santo niños taken during a visit to the downtown church. I did a double-take. I’ve viewed this photo so many times, liking the smiling parade of the niños in their scarlet finery, but I’ve never noticed the little yellow niño before. Until now.

Look, there he is, in the middle row at right, in his bright yellow coat with the green trim. Has he been there all this time, or did he mischievously arrange some pixels for me? He must be amused at all this.

Pressure From Church

Lest you think I am comitting some blasphemous act (fun?), the picture above is evidence that there was no nudity involved in the very pleasurable activity I engaged in at church. Yes, that’s right, at church, as in the Sto. Niño Church in downtown Cebu.

In one of my peripatetic jaunts around this city, while showing some visitors around, I stumbled into a corner room at the Sto. Niño Church where something other than worship was going on. The room that was tucked away along the church hall was purposely setup for reflexology sessions, done by trained pressure givers.

And since I am a person who does not question serendipity, I immediately seized the moment and plopped down to be reflexologized. It was truly electrifying, woot! My head cleared up and my tired feet were soothed. There were pleasant tingling sensations in a few places on my body. They say reflexology is a cure for many ailments. Well, that day it certainly got rid of my tension and restored my good humor.

I went back to that hidden nook in the church a few more times, with some friends in tow. I consider it my unique way of contributing to the Church’s evangelization, if you will. My friends were instant converts, what can I say. Put the pressure on!

Happy Uglies

Hallowe’en is fast approaching, and it’s during this is the time of the year that I miss my stint in advertising. Yep, come Hallowe’een time, even here in the PI, advertising gets a big chunk of the budget for such silly spending as theme parties, trick or treats at the mall, orange and black everywhere, creepy gimmicks, and even creepier giveaways. The occasion is just an all-around excuse to be morbidly fun.

My one consolation is that on the web, Hallowe’en is viewed as an all-important holiday. Candy overload and all the kid costumes you could ever want. Me, I just lust after those Ugly Dolls up there.

I like the kind of dolls or stuffed toys that aren’t annoyingly cute, I hate those dolls that have bland, wholesome expressions (fake) on their button-nose faces. Those make me gag. I want the splodgy-looking ones, the ones that seem to have run splat on the glass door and are backing away, tiny stars spinning around their malformed heads. That, for me, is cute. Gimme!

The Black Book

As though the on-line world isn’t big enough to contain my words, I went ahead and bought this little black book, a palm-sized journal to hold my off-line thoughts.

I was first attracted to the cover art, two Filipino women dressed in their Old-World finery, circa long, long time ago. One clasps an abaniko, the other nonchalantly carries a parasol. And yet obviously, they are indoors, posed stiffly for posterity. I can almost hear the flashbulb exploding into white blindness. But it’s actually their haughty, pseudo-dreamy expression that really gets to me. They seem to be acquiescing to the pose of the moment, but it looks as though their minds are somewhere else.

Exactly like I am most of the time. Ah, yes.