Just Passing By

Cake

For the first time in my entire life, I've turned my back and walked away from a chocolate cake. You see, I have not met a cake I didn't like. A chocolate cake would almost always make me come back for seconds. But today, I was able to say no and not break down in tears.

After 100 hours of Jazzercise and going down one pant-size smaller [insert applause here], I'm not about to ruin it. The truth is, it didn't even feel like I was depriving myself. The majestic cake that sat on the kitchen counter at the office just didn't hold much appeal to me. It was two thin layers of cake smothered in mocca frosting. Jut the sight of all that frosting made me cringe from the sweetness. Now if it had been a Red Ribbon cake, I may not have been able to say no that easily, especially if it was the choco mousse cake. Ooooh, just the thought makes my mouth water.

Anyway, I did complete my 100th Jazzercise session. It's been 7 months since I started. There were days when I didn't feel like going, especially since it took a while before I started seeing results. But I have to say, I've been pretty disciplined about keeping my routine. Strictly speaking, I have not lost weight but I feel lighter and I have more energy. Close inspection of my thighs only reveal a few dimples here and there. Overall, I feel healthier and stronger than I've ever been. Now if I can look as good as that 85-year old lady in my class when I'm her age, that's the only reason I need to keep going.

Poems

Came across a page of Haiku and Senryu poems. Thought I'd try my hand. Here are some of them:

Haiku

leaves rustling softly
summer rain, long awaited
sleep beckons. good night

            ~~~

fresh bone, butcher's best
chase butterflies, nap on grass
dog days of summer

Senryu

goth in the workplace
already dark as it is
leave this place, I must

            ~~~

screen shows new message
stupid question, I should junk
sent reply to boss

Choice

A tear rolled down my cheek as I read the last page of the book. My heart breaks for the Walls children.

My old high school classmate and good friend, Jeanne Salunga, suggested I read Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. I haven't been reading a lot of books lately. With the nature of my work, I hardly have functioning eyeballs at the end of the day. That's why I stick with magazines. Right now, I'm into "Women's Health," which features healthy-looking women that don't send me into a deep depression.

Going back to Glass Castle, I was able to borrow a copy from the public library. It must really be a good book. I had to submit a hold request so the library can reserve it for me as soon it is returned.

Glass Castle is a true story of a woman whose nomadic life as a child was fraught with unspeakable poverty. She described how they would often go hungry. At 5, she and her brother discovered the treasures that the dumpster could bring and rejoiced each time they found half eaten chocolate bars and moldy sandwiches. She also wrote about sleeping in cardboard boxes during the cold, cold winters in a dilapidated house that had no heating or insulation. What is different about her story is that the poverty was inflicted on her and her siblings by her non-conformist parents, whose idea of rearing children bordered on madness. Page after page, Walls catalogued the nightmares that were her childhood. Amazingly, even when she found out later on that her mother owned lands that could have brought them millions of dollars and a comfortable life, there is no bitterness.

My greatest takeaway from this memoir is the reminder that life is what we make it. There is no place for self-pity or finger-pointing. Jeannette Walls' parents stood, with conviction, by the life they chose for themselves. And they were happy. The children were not, so that one by one, they escaped that life and made new ones for themselves. It was a decision they made and they took steps to make it happen.

There are times when I question myself why I stay in a foreign land. Why I endure the loneliness of being away from family and friends. Why I put up with being a second class citizen. Then I am reminded. This is the life I chose for me.

Scene

I was sitting mindlessly in the car, waiting for the light to turn green when three elderly men caught my eye. All three were shabbily dressed, their hair graying from age and dirt. They carried plastic bags over their shoulders and unused ones hung by their back pockets. Two of them headed for the garbage can at the entrance of the public park. As one of them rummaged through the trash, another one waited, as if anticipating a treat. The third was a few feet away, distracted by something else.

The first man found a tall can of what looks like the energy drink - Monster. He shook the can and handed it to the other who was waiting. I thought they were merely looking for soda cans to sell to the junk shop and the first man handed the can to the other fella to deposit in the plastic bag where they kept their finds. But before I can say OMG, the second man turned away from the road and took a swig off of the Monster drink they retrieved directly from the trash. Instead of being grossed out, that brief scene moved me deeply.

All through my drive to work that morning, I thought about them. What unfortunate place did they come from that led them to that life? Homeless, aimless and spirits broken, those men found each other and decided to band together. What struck me most was how, in spite of poverty, there was still a show of generosity and selflessness. The man who found the can could have just as easily drank the remaining contents. After all, finders keepers, right? But no, he gave it to his friend and didn't look a bit resentful.

Ahh, America, the proverbial land of milk and honey. How sad that inspite of the opportunities this country offers its citizens and immigrants, a significant population still lives in misery. Sadder still is the possibility that these men might have chosen to live this way, much like the parents of Jeanette Walls in her heartbreaking memoir "Glass Castle". But that is a topic for another post.