Quick Peek at my World

It's Mother's Day. And what best way to thank my Nanay and my Tatay but by showing you what shaped me to be what I am today. I am a product of a middle-class family. And I am lucky enough to have gotten the best of both worlds. I can sleep in a hut and eat using my hands. I can dress up, stay in a plush hotel and eat at 5-star restaurants. I am comfortable being with a young mother with 12 kids who lives in a small, run-down, one-bedroom hut but can also act carefree and chic when I'm with my single "Sosyal" friends. I have been exposed to both worlds, the upper class who lives in nice big houses and the lower class living in the slums. I saw through the eyes of both worlds, I am a product of both... but I belong in none. We are considered a "middle-class" family. Both of my parents are teachers, one in the academe specializing in the English language, another as a musician teaching/conducting a band. I grew up with not too much and not too little....

Everywhere I see, there a news reports, pictures, videos and memes of Vhong Navarro and Boy Bulalo. For 2 weeks now my news feed is nothing but them. It’s become a circus… and it has irritated me to the point that I wanted to sit down and write what I think of it all. This is my point of view alone. The readers of my blog might not think and feel the same way that I do. But hey, this country is democratic. And we are entitled to our own opinions. There is just one question uppermost in my mind – Has this country stooped down so low that we have become stupid, blithering idiots? The news reports contains people that are getting stupider by the minute. Why do I say so? Let me explain that. One – Boy Bulalo and his quest for Bulalo Soup in a BAKERY. First, why would someone, ANYONE, ask for Bulalo Soup in a bakery? Even drunk people know that only bread is available in a Bakery. I take that back.. of course you can also get butter and maybe coffee there. But still, BULALO SOU...

It’s that time of the year again... The annual Town Fiesta brings back those memories that lay dormant for most of the year. Seeing all those bands, watching the colorful flags and the cute little girls twirling their bat ons, hearing the sound of the drums and the melodies of the assorted playing instruments… All of these make me long for the life that I once had – and the person that made it all possible. I was once part of all these. I started out as a cute little baton twirling majorette at the age of 10 years old. A bit late, unlike my siblings who started at the age of six, primarily because I was sickly and my Lola was overprotective. Then I moved on to playing the lyre for 2 years (which unlike my siblings, I was also not able to master because my hands were not fast enough) before graduating to the one I wanted most – a member of the Color Guard (Those pretty girls in front with short skirts and sexy outfits waving and twirling a colorful flag). Once a Color Guard, a...