2day’s blah is….
take a peek at yani’s world, you might see a mirror thereellen’s life part 2
Ellen worked hard. She felt she’s late in starting to build a real life. She’s 22 years old with barely nothing to start with and literally proceeding slow towards achieving a goal that seemed too big. Can she do it? Shel’ll try.
Elllen earned 5,000 pesos a month as an internet cafe attendant. Not much, but she can’t have a higher-paying job because she only finished a two-year computer programming course with just a passing grade. Saturdays and Sundays Ellen worked as a photocopier operator. She got 150 per day.
Ellen worked for 20 years. Did odd jobs. Spent less on food and lesser on clothing and other accessories. Bu afttter 20 years of hard labor, Ellen only has 10,000 pesos in the bank. Most of her money went to hospitall bills.
Now, Ellen is still working. At 42, she mans a little shop in the corner. The end.
Some people are like Ellen. They dream big and would do anything to achieve that dream. But sometimes, like Ellen’ s, big opportunities don’t come their way however much they would want to attract them. Sad, but that’s their reality. It bites and it sucks. ###
ellen’s life part 1 (a shortcut)
<< ” Not Ellen“
Ellen was a woman of ambition. She wanted to be rich and famous, travel the world, luxuriate in the fancy things that money and influence can buy. She didn’t marry so she could focus on these goals. She outlined these twenty years ago. She’s 42 now.
Ellen was a product of an illicit affair between her dancer-mother and a married club bouncer. At one point, they tried aborting her. Fetus Ellen held on to her mother’s uterus and refused to come out even after four attempts at poisoning her with ulcer medicines. She fought for her life and emerged victorious – at least, from her parents’ murderous instinct.
Ellen was born prematurely, extremely jaundiced and so small – the size of a 1-liter coke bottle. She was deposited at the hospital nursery for one week before she got to feel her mother’s taut nipple. The milk came in drips.
Ellen grew up physically weak. Silent, inactive Ellen stayed in a corner away from other children. she played little, cried often. Her nose dripped and her cough disturbed her sleep.
Ellen survived school. survived the age of crushes and proms and found herself in the environ of supposedly adult people. That’s when she vowed to change her life, put more strength to her osteoporosis-invaded bones, pump up her courage to face a brutal world….( to be continued) ###
rice crisis
i went to city hall earlier for an audience with the mayor. i saw one street there was closed to accommodate the queue of people hoping to avail of the free rice the mayor’s office was giving out. men, women, oldies, teens– different kinds of people were there. i saw some with white plastic bags with what seemed to be 2 kilos of rice and a few canned sardines. maybe a day’s worth of food.
i liked the drama in how some of those people hold the shoulder of the person preceding them in the line. a gentle shove maybe implying ” let’s move this line forward”..
in other regions, the national food authority also distributes free or low-priced rice. reports say that lines there start at dawn and snaking through sidewalks. i see those faces on tv and the thought of a looming rice crisis disturbs me. my family, like other Filipinos, are so used to eating rice that the perspective of substituting it with other carbo-rich staples seems hard to adapt to.
what could possibly avert a rice crisis? a food crisis?. it’s global now.
i think we should eliminate the use of money as purchasing tool. let’s go back to barter. then utilize lands more for planting food crops not artificial things. in short, we should go back to basic… i know, it’s a tall order. very tall… but i wish.###
2day’s blah is….
I’ve finally created a blog site! yehey! thoughts are running feverishly in my mind right now. I’m so excited to fill in the blanks here with words that will showcase the real me, my take on things under the sun, and how people react to what i have to say.
I think this blogging thing will give me a therapeutic feel. Unloading… you know, releasing excess baggage, at the same time, absorbing new ideas and then developing new perspective.. Hmmm, that would be real nice.
Too serious? Nah. I’ll try not to add wrinkles to my readers’ brows. Nor to mine. (massage.. massage)
BTW, I am Yanie from the Philippines. ( Yes, that third world country right there just a little below the equator .) I have 3 kids and 1 husband who gave me 5 years of generally happy marital experience. My kids are all girls. Alab Jianmari is 5 years old. She just finished her first ever year in school, with a citation for being an outstanding pupil. Naturally, we were there on her big day. ( Let me tell you later about that day cuz I do have some comments re our barrio captain – that’s village head for you, my friends in the western world.:) ) Anyway, my second child is Red Arizabeth. She’s 3 years old, very bright and very quarrelsome with her older sister. Yes. She would pinch Alab anytime she likes. Or grab her by the hair. Or hit her with anything she gets her hands on. Cruel. But, i guess, it will pass in due time. They tell me, second children normally relate like that to first-borns. Is that true?
My youngest, folks, is a thin-haired, chinky-eyed, wiggly chubby little baby. She’s 6 months old and the apple of our eyes. She smiles and we blush. She shrieks and we giggle. She poops and we shout at each other. ” Hey, change daipers!” Little Arvi Rain farts like her father. She emits carbon dioxide that smells so bad, you would want to puke. ( ok, ok. exaggerated.)####
Got to end this for now. Got to go to city hall later. see ya next time!
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