Class of 2008

January 24, 2008

Leftovers in their less visible form, says Thomas Fuller, are called memories. They are stored in the refrigerator of the mind and the cupboard of the heart. You know, don’t you, why there are class pictures taken every year? A class picture is one way of holding onto what we are, what we love, and what we do not want to lose.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the class of 2008.

Not in the photo: Jane, who had to go home to Khandi
Photo Credits: Aileen Siroy

Because Laughter Is an Instant Vacation

January 23, 2008

Laugh at yourself, but don’t ever aim your doubt at yourself. Be bold. When you embark for strange places, don’t leave any of yourself safely on shore. Have the nerve to go into unexplored territory. - Alan Alda

I don’t remember anymore how I came to call you Memeh. I remember how you laughed over the nickname, though. You laughed like you were spitting out a bellyful of stars. That is one of the things I like about you. You laugh like you don’t have sorrows and frustrations stashed in your car, revving with the engine. You have a big soul; you share time, laughter, comfort, presents, wisecracks as if you have several selves to give away.

It would be nice to be able to compile what we’re in awe of the most in our friends - Malou’s comeliness and determination, Aileen’s ability to create beauty wherever and however, Kaithy’s sparkle, Chichi’s serenity, Therese’s simplicity, Pat’s charm, creativity, and boldness, Normita’s zest for life, Chelo’s courage, your dry humor and generosity - fold these into a box, and keep them for the days when we’re feeling brittle in some places and crumbly in others.

 

Thank you mother Memeh for being the constant glue that’s keeping us together. There’s champagne in the kitchen, and more in the stars, and it has our name scribbled on them - in purple letters to match your blouse and Pat’s tablecloth. (peace )

Photo 1: Chin and Mimi
Photo 2: Kaith, Mimi, Chin
Photo Credits: Aileen Siroy

Semi-colon

January 22, 2008

I want to be a punctuation. I want to be a punctuation that can wrap itself neatly around a throng of emotions; able to fold itself confidently over shared joys and veiled sorrows; easily quantifiable by laughter, a snort, or a sigh. I want to be a punctuation that measures the space between secrets, the infinitesimal gaps between interlocking fingers, the painful pauses before revelations and goodbyes.

Yes, I would like to be a semi-colon - seldom understood, almost obsolete; beautiful when used precisely.

B Is for Belgian Chocolates

January 21, 2008

I’m charging you storage fee, Mimi pronounced. One bar per person; these chocolates sat in our fridge for the longest time.

Had I known what we were bargaining over, I would have haggled instead of nodding guiltily.

Meet my box of Belgian chocolates, sent all the way from London by the funny, lovely Chelo.

The box comes with the cutest silver card.

Scribbled on the card is a heartwarming little note.

Oh, and did I say the box is very pretty? It is.

This is what greets you when you lift the lid.

Who knew chocolate could be so delicious?

I was awed by the detail on each piece. Each bar tastes and appears different. They looked so vibrant and exquisitely beautiful I almost felt sad eating them.

I almost forgot. The chocolates come with a manual of sorts. So, not only do you know each scrumptious piece by name, you learn of their pedigree as well. This is the manual and the little glutton who happily shared the box with me.

I cannot remember the last time a meal inspired me to philosophize. Each bite reminded me of the last book I read, Neil Gaiman’s M is for Magic. To quote Gaiman loosely: You know what the Sunbird of Suntown tastes like? It tastes like heaven. It tastes like the sun, like my youth. It tastes like forever.

I suggest you get both the box and the book.

Thank you, thank you Adrian and Chelo!

Thought Bubble #1

January 17, 2008

Remember those times your heart broke just so, and it felt like the world ended for you, and your friends dispensed what has got to be the most worn-out advice since Delilah counseled Samson to get a haircut?

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

That’s not always true, you know. Sometimes, what doesn’t kill you makes you want to kill yourself.