Photo-of-Interest Monday: Treats from a Homecoming

 

My Dad came home from Cebu over the weekend. He stayed for pretty much a day before he had to go back but it was really good to see him again. I miss him a lot. I wished he'd come home more often.

He brought home my favorite hopia from La Fortuna Bakery, which in my opinion makes the most awesome ones in the world. It is unchallenged in my not-so-humble opinion and I still keep on wishing that they would open a branch here. I mean, I'd go devout in the religion I was baptized in if it would mean a La Fortuna Bakery a mere few feet away from where I live. 

He also brought some Masareal, a sweet treat made of peanuts and sugar syrup unique to Cebu (I think.) I guess I like it so much because of the peanut component and, of course, the sweet part more than helps it appeal.

There you have it. Sweet treats from a homecoming.

This has been a Monday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse. 

Flashback Friday: Come Back

Prose, 2005 — This one was written when I was 15 as well. In fact, expect that all posts from 2005 were written by 15-year-old me. 15 was a trying age for me, what with my love-sickness and all that pining for romance. Naturally, most of what I've written at that time was themed as such. 

This story is about love found again. I can't quite recall what inspired this story. Perhaps I was high on romance novels back then. As I expected, I did cringe when I read this again after seven years of it laying dormant in the archives, but not as much as I did with my poetry from the last Flashback Friday post. So now, with further ado...

Come Back

 

She watched wearily as he approached her, her eyes noting every single ounce of perecftion. She never thoguht he'd come back; never thought she'd see him again. But there he was, like a ghostly apparition of some nightmare-dream.

He stopped a mere few feet from her, near enough to hold her captive should she choose to turn away.

She looked into his eyes, and she nearly drowned into those green depths. Her father once said that the eyes were windows to one's soul and to one's heart, but looking into his eyes, she saw nothing. No love. No hate. No happiness nor sadness, just cold emptiness. 

She didn't know what to do. Common sense told her to turn the opposite way and run like the dogs of hell were after her, but what she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him, hold him close to her, and never let him go.

Tears were starting to fall now. they shown brightly against her rosy cheeks. A tentative hand rested against them to wipe the tears away and she placed her own hand over his rough and calloused one.

Finally she saw emotion in those green eyes. There was sadness and remorse, but most of all there was regret.

She didn't know how it had happened — if she made the first move or he did — but they were in each others arms. Wrapped in an embrace so tight, she thought she would sink into him and she wanted to.

He whisphered words in hear ear. His regret in leaving her. the sadness that followed him everywhere. The contentment and satisfaction he could not find with any other woman but only with her. And in return she told him of her own sadness and her own regrets.

He whispered his love to her and she to him. Finally they released each other, only to embrace once more in a never ending love.

The sun broke into the horizon. It shined its bright rays of light at them. It marked a new day. A new day for him. A new day for her. A new day for the both of them — together.

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

On Being Alone

From the film Matilda (1996)

I have this in common with Matilda. I remember watching this movie and thinking, "Wow, I can really relate to her!" My parents were never like hers and I didn't have any special powers like she did but like her I found solace in being left alone, albeit I wasn't completely like that as a child; I did spend my afternoons playing outside but then I discovered the appeal of being on my own. This mostly began when I started getting into books as well.

No, I did not turn into a recluse of some sort but I liked the quiet, and I've carried this trait through my adolescence and now my adulthood. Let's be clear though, being alone is different from being lonely. Like they say,  "You can be in a room full of people and still feel lonely."

It's not all the time that I prefer to be alone. I do enjoy being social; I have friends and I like hanging out with them as often that I can. I'm just not one of those people who can't stand to be on their own. I quiet like being my own company. Sometimes I even find myself more entertaining than most people I see on a day to day basis and, yes, I am very well aware that may come across as strange.

What I'd like people to understand is that it is not a bad thing to be alone. You can get a lot of things done by yourself and there are things better to be done alone than with others. Also, the quiet is a nice, solid perk; I find it focuses introspection. 

I think people should learn how to be alone and how to be okay with it because, one day, for an indiscernible amount of time, you may just find yourself alone and if you won't be able to thrive or even cope, that's when you become lonely.

This has been a Wednesday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

DISCLAIMER: No copyright infringement intended. I take no ownership of the image used in this blog post. Images found on the internet are considered for public use unless explicitly dictated otherwise.  

Jadie Ruminates about Work and Happiness

When does work stop being work really?

My obvious answer would be: when it starts being something you do for fun and you happen to be paid to do it.

But what if it never gets to be that way? What if you’re in limbo with soul-sucking corporate machine?

I make it a point to enjoy anything I do; I quickly lose interest if I don’t. I am, by nature, hedonistic and injecting fun in work helps me live up to this hedonism I’ve spent years to cultivate. Enjoyment relieves you of the mundane and saves from the downward spiral that is the predictableness and repetitiveness of daily work life. That’s why, in my opinion, it’s good to change things up every day by reserving something creative to do that is not tied to work. We hedonistic and creative people derive nourishment from such things, you see.

Yet there are times when efforts for your own joy is not enough to keep the ugly truth at bay – that you are working in less than desirable circumstances and there is not much you can do about it, short of something drastic.

A daunting word creeps into the recesses of your mind: “UNDERAPPRECIATED.” Then its sidekick joins the party: “UNMOTIVATED.” People need varying degrees of incentives to go to work in the morning. It usually is money. “I can’t be late (or absent) today. That’s gonna put a dent on my paycheck” – a common rejoinder in the face of the wee hours of work week morning. But there comes a time when monetary motivation is not enough. I would venture to say that it may come as a surprise to some employers but there is such a thing as emotional incentive. Employees need encouragement to love their work and employers should ensure that their company is a place people would want to work for and with. I think if employers exact an effort to an Emotional Incentive Plan and an Employee Appreciation Program, a big difference will be seen in their employees. Simply put, human worker bees aren’t so shallow as to stay for just the money. Money will perhaps interest them at first but happiness will make them stay. 

So, APPRECIATION + EMOTIONAL MOTIVATION = HAPPINESS AT WORK. Isn’t that enough of a simple equation to follow through?


This has been a Tuesday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

Photo-of-Interest Monday: Jackie

This is Jackie, a baby tiger. I took this shot of her December of 2011 at Island Cove during our Department Planning/Outing, so I'd venture to say that she's gotten pretty big by now, after all it'll be a year since I last saw this girl.

I happen upon her out of the cage in the early morning with colleague and fellow blogger Tin Tuguigui while we were out and about exploring the small zoo Island Cove avails to its customers. Naturally, we were drawn to the cuteness and started clicking away. 

I chose this shot because I liked how one side of her face is in shadows and  how the sun was hitting the other half. It was very telling of the fact that this was still a dangerous animal we were dealing with even though she was a cute baby animal. Even though she's a baby, she is capable of doing harm. Being a mini-tiger didn't mean that her claws and teeth were any less threatening, which is why we had foregone cuddling and petting, even though we wanted to so badly. The fact still remains that Jackie is a wild animal that acts on instinct; if she decided to take a bite or swipe at us, we wouldn't see it coming. 

That's kind of how life is, don't you think?

 This has been a Monday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

Flashback Friday: A Smile from Me

Poetry, August 2005 — I wrote this when I was fifteen and was the first post I made on my very first blog. I've been writing way before this poem, but this particular piece marked my foray into the world of blogging; I thought it would be apropos to begin with this for the first Flashback Friday post. 

Reading this again honestly makes me cringe because, first, I think it's quite cheesy, and second, it made me realize how emotional I was back in high school. But for the sake of— well, I don't really know yet. I'll have to get back to you on that. Basically, I'm just letting this loose on the internet once again; with a bit of embarrassment, mind you.

A Smile From Me
 
You asked me if she liked you
If she liked you the way you do her
You say you’re so in love in her
But all you got was a smile from me

You give her gifts and roses
You shower he with endearments and praises
You asked me if you were doing the right thing
But all you got was a smile from me

You’re together now
As happy as the two of you can be
You asked me if I was happy for you
But all you got was a smile from me

Seeing her with you tears my soul apart
It breaks my heart
I wish I could be the one with you
But all I’m going to give
And all you are going to get is
A smile from me

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

On Life and Death

Art by Evija of yellingapple,tumblr.com. Original post can be found at http://yellingapple.tumblr.com/post/35454919527/quote-william-blake

Quote by William Blake

Make the most out of life. Our death is inevitable and we must accept that. Life can become a lie, a beautiful lie in fact, one that we weave to avoid reality. Death will always remain a truth. So I say choose and try to live your life the fullest way you can. I think the way to truly live is to avoid pretense, avoid just simply going through the motions, and avoid becoming complacent. There is always more to life. Never let it be said that you regret not doing the things you wanted to do and not saying the things that you needed to say. Life is the present. It's here. You can make it so that death doesn't always have to be painful and regrettable.

This has been a Wednesday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.  

DISCLAIMER: No copyright infringement intended. I take no ownership of the image used in this blog post. Images found on the internet are considered for public use unless explicitly dictated otherwise.