Cycling Part 4

This is my version of movie installments. It's my fourth attempt to master cycling!

You would think by now I should be over having the contusions part. I'm not. My first one hour was just about dragging the rented bicycle, with my left foot on the pedal and my right on the road. I bet tomorrow all the bruises will be visible on my right leg because of this.

They said one cannot forget, once it's acquired, the skill of balancing. My last attempt two months ago, though I fell and I fell really hard, I went places. I pedaled the bike smoothly. I guess it's the trauma of the fall that made me very cautious today. For the first one hour, at least.

If there's one thing I learned, it's to look beyond. The secret to balancing the bicycle is not to look at the handle and the front tire, but to gaze beyond it. Focus on the road. Feel the gush of the wind. Hear the live music being played by the people around. Appreciate the patience of a friend who offered a company. Wear a smile.

Sometimes, in this busy life, we neglect to experience the moment. We are so concentrated on going somewhere that we ignore the sceneries laying before us. I felt my legs pedaling, I brushed off the thought of falling, and I breathed the fresh air and listened to the whistling of the trees. It was magnificent.

I know I still need to harness my skill. I want to get the hang of it. It is actually an achievement for me. I began learning biking this February only, in four different occasions, and I am starting to get the hang of it. And boy am I so proud. ^^

So long, Woody

Three installments. Three stories. Three adventures. Now it's goodbye.

There is a kid in everyone of us. And in every kid in us, there is a hero we look up to. One who fights for justice. For peace. For Andy, it's a sheriff cowboy.

I have seen the first two films of Toy Story the nth time. The dubbing is superb, the animation is marvelous, the story lines are the best. I am a big fan of it. The comedy and the script are crisply delivered, and the truth in each utterance touches the heart of hearts. It is a magnificent experience.

So I looked forward to the third, expecting a tear-jerker and hearty laugh package. I was not failed. I wept a lot of times in this film than I did in Karate Kid. When Andy decided to leave Woody and the gang for college, my heart was broken. The bad side of being immortal is when the person you love is not, and you get left behind. Woody would always be a toy, but Andy would never remain a child. The most courageous act was when Woody learned to let go. I felt a lump in my throat when the car drove off.

I was in Grade 1 when my father gave me a stuffed toy. It was a blue rabbit with a frame of a human being. I loved it, and I love it till now. It stayed with me all throughout my schooling life and after. My father gave me new ones, even a life-sized one, because my old rabbit is already tattered. I cuddled the new ones. I grew tired of them. And I always came back to my old, reliable rabbit who acquired a new role. It became my pillow.

When I came back home in March, I noticed my ancient precious in my father's room, all wrapped in plastic to somehow avoid its gradual dilapidation. All my sleepless nights, my tears and joy, my darkest moments and sordid secrets, are all hidden in that now graying skin of my loyal rabbit. My mom wanted to preserve the memories, so she wrapped it. I thank her for that.

Change is the only permanent happening in the world. All else is ephemeral. And we move on. But moving on does not mean we acquire amnesia. We may lose contact. But all the memories, all the love and the friendship, all these stay with us. Even if the only thing left for us to do is to step one foot forward, the bond will always prevail. To infinity and beyond.

Kababayan

Blood is thicker than water. And I can proudly say this also applies to fellowmen.

My friend has been looking for a room that can accommodate her and her significant other. I accompanied her in one of her viewings tonight. This was not so far from where we presently stay. We took a bus from the MRT station, got lost, called up the owner of the house we were supposed to view, but ended up looking for the place ourselves. The owner did not know how to go about his own turf, because he doesn't commute he said. It took us a good one hour to reach the place.

When we reach there, we were greeted by one "kababayan". She opened the door and let us in. I was surprised to see that mostly all who are staying in the house are Filipinos, considering the fact that the owner is not. There were two more prospects checking on the place, also kababayans. We talked, asked things. And revelations began pouring out not long after.

My friend prefers Filipino household, aside from the fact that they are easier to get along with since we share the same background, because of their frankness. The kababayans we spoke with gave us the good and the bad side of the place, the advantages and the disadvantages, and the reasons why they are also moving out.

It runs in the blood. Everyone of us, across all races, feels obligated to be honest to one another, even to the extent of bluntness. It is a secret bond between fellowmen, especially with Filipinos, even before the sanduguan or blood compact during the Spanish regime. We look out for each other, we feel responsible for one another, and we will forever be scratching each other's back, because we are united by blood, under one history, and under one belief. Because we are simply kababayans.

My friend and I left the place, thankful. It might be the last time we would step onto that block, and we are thankful. Thankful to be who we are, what we are, and where we came from. Thankful for the gift of honesty, and thankful for the people who practice it. I know one of these days my friend will find her place. It might be far from home, but if it is with a kababayan, it would not be that far.

Mid-Year Resolution

I was sitting on my bed, folding my clothes, when it dawned on me. I should start ironing my clothes from now on.

Yeah.. yeah. Funny, huh. I don't iron clothes, I admit it. Some don't need ironing, though. And those that need it, I wear them with my i-don't-care face. Haha!

Hey, it's not too late to add this to my to-do list every garfield day. And I'm proud to say that this is part of my i'm-a-changed-girl plan! ^_^

The Last Lecture

If you only had six months to live, how are you going to spend it?

He had pancreatic cancer. But he never thought this was not fair. He was unlucky maybe, but this was not unfair.

Randy Pausch was a husband. He was a father. A professor. And he lived his passion up to very end.

He said in his interview that his family, somewhere in their lives after his passing, will be pushed to the edge of the cliff. He might not be there to catch their fall, but he had time to sew a net to catch them. That was one fine net he sewed there. The net is so big and strong it captures everyone falling. It caught me.

And his voice is loud enough to reverberate through a brick wall.

Found it!

I have been looking everywhere to change my blog's skin. In case you didn't notice, most, if not all, of the templates immediately available here in blogger, are all sooooo boring. Yawn.

The first place I rummaged in was my wonderful lappy. I didn't know Mac is really wonderful. It basically has EVERYTHING one will ever need. Even a template for blogs. They have the wonderful IWEB!!

Some years ago when I was so into blogging (I had a wonderful life being a bum then. Oh, they are but memories now), I transferred all of my old posts into iweb. Pictures, written accounts from my old friendster blog and my then-newly-discovered blogger, into iweb. My emotions were so high due to excitement that I even wrote new posts directly in iweb. After some final touching up, checking on grammar and constructions here and there, I was ready. I clicked on PUBLISH.

And there it was, MOBILEME.

Everything is business. Even the table napkin in a fancy restaurant is chargeable. Services have 10% charge. Who am I to think that using Mac's template and publishing it online would be free? Silly me!

It took me two years, as a form of rebellion against iweb, to linger in blogger's unbelievably mundane templates. The good part is that, thanks to the greek gods of mt. internet, the creative minds i have discovered and will discover, the information superhighway is full of wonderful, sublime, brilliant ideas. Iweb is just one option, internet has varieties! And the best part is, I found one that fits me!! =D

How cool is this, huh? ^^

A new beginning

I vow that from now on, I'll try my best to update my blog every single day.

The main goal for doing this is to rekindle my love of writing. I still love writing. I'm still inspired by daily events and to give them life through my posts. But somehow, my slothfulness overpowers my love of writing. I'm letting life pass me by.

But not anymore. I'm a changed girl.

As George Elliot put it, "It is never too late to be what you might have been", it is never too late for me to reignite my passion, set aside my laziness, and begin penning down my heartaches, my dreams, my observations, my frustrations, and the things that make my eyes sparkle. Life is an adventure. Some may not be as extravagant. But all are worth listening to. Or in my case, writing about.

And this is a continuation.