I Confess: Stupid Idiot

I was leaving Costco when I ran into a young man soliciting for an organization that helps down-and-out families back onto their feet. My cash was in the car, so on my way out of the parking lot I pulled up to the curb to give him a few dollars. I came to a full stop to give him the money, and was still looking at him as I started to pull away. I didn't even step on the accelerator, just let my foot off the brakes. As the car rolled forward the young man said very nicely "oh, watch out, watch out..." and pointed to the front of my car. Lo, there was an old man in a motorized wheelchair with his wife walking behind him, crossing right in front of my car, screaming "YOU STUPID IDIOT!"

He continued to scream obscenities at me as he wheeled right in front of my car. "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH HER?!"

The young man, coming to my defense, explained apologetically to the old man "she didn't see you."

"WELL, SHE SHOULDN'T BE DRIVING IF SHE DOESN'T WATCH WHERE SHE'S DRIVING!" RAH RAH RAH RAH RAH!

I felt so bad. So bad that I almost convinced myself that I was a stupid idiot.

Almost.

As I drove off I could hear the old man now screaming at the young man, perhaps for impeding traffic by soliciting on the sidewalk. Or, perhaps calling him a no good, lazy son of a [bleep] for bumming money off of shoppers for a worthless cause. I didn't mean to judge so prematurely, especially when all I knew about the old man was that he happened to be in a sour mood already, but the old man reminded me of an ex-boyfriend's father. My ex's father was likely to say to the young man soliciting financial donations, something to the effect of, "you're a stupid idiot for putting yourself in this financial situation, so you don't deserve any help!" while his dutiful wife walked silently next to him, not daring to contradict her loud mouthed husband least he calls her a stupid idiot too.

I'm not the stupid idiot, I told myself. The stupid idiot was the guy who crossed the path of an actively running vehicle without making sure his path was safe. The stupid idiot was the guy who started a fight with an innocent bystander, because now his blood pressure was probably rising like mercury on a hot summer day.

I was very sorry that I was careless. But hell if I'll let that old man ruin my day.

Stupid idiot!

Not a Relative Mike

My friend, The Author, was just in Boston. She brought back some pastry's from Mike's. I don't know Mike. But after tasting his chocolate cannolis and lobster tail, I wouldn't mind being related to him.

Oh boy, this is going to be so delicious. I can't wait to take a bite!

Oh, just give me that knife! I want to get my fingers on that sinful treat.

Ah, I could die and go to heaven...

Or, am I in heaven already?

If you find yourself in Boston for any reason, make it a life's goal to pick up some sweets from Mike. He's not a relative, but I hear he runs his shop like a crazy pastry Nazi. If you even pause to think about what you want you'll get booted aside for the next customer.

Um, can I have-

Next!

Passport to Satisfaction

We visited Tita M and Uncle T in Las Vegas. They cook up a mean dinner! But because we were in Vegas, we just had to indulge in buffet dining. It's a very good value, especially if you fast for future penance for the impending mortal shortcoming.

See, shirt pockets aren't good just to hold your boarding passes at the airport.

They're good for the extra large, extra thick napkins at the fancy buffet.

Ah, but who wants fruit and seaweed, and all that other healthy junk.

Dude, give me some of that fried basmati rice and everything else fat juicy around it!

And while you're at it, saute me up some of that pasta, and don't forget the butter!

That feeling of fullness and satisfaction means it's time to hit the dessert table.

Netty doesn't have enough hands for all the goodies.

These are the gentlemen that prepare the food. You know they're good when they say "make sure you don't show Immigrations that picture!"

No Words Needed

I spent a day with James, while driving PaB, MaK, Tita V, and her friend Manang Fel all over town. He never ceases to stir my emotions. Sometimes, merely hearing him can make me me lose my cool. And this time, as with most times, watching him made me laugh.

These photos don't need words to tell you what happened. But let me preface with this: that I'd taken him to McDonald's for lunch while the seniors mentioned above shopped their credit cards silly.

Yum! Did you like that snot with your fries, Jamesie Cat?

Later...

He was playing with his food.

But suddenly he got silent...

... Except for the occasional frustrated grunts.

Finally, in defeat, he consoled himself by kicking his looking mirror on the back of the front passenger seat.

And I laughed all the way home.

Team Philippines

Exhausted and jetlagged after traveling almost thirty-four hours from Truk to the States (see the story here and here), we maintained our spirits and enthusiasm to cheer on the Pacman against Mosely.

Mabuhay, Team Pacquiao!

Lessons That Make You Go "Huh?"

Lesson No. 1

I ran in Arlyn at Good Friday mass. She's the sweetest girl, with a penchant for incessant conversation. I met her last year, when she was nannying for my nephew Louie. Now she works for an ice cream shop - "Snoopy Ice Cream," she said -  in the big city, where she has to wear a uniform, strictly enforced. Any deviation from the dress code is punishable by P50. Now I really wanted to see her at work, wondering if her dress uniform was as rigid as the military's. So the next day I drove into the big city.

In the mall, I looked for Snoopy Ice Cream, searching for the beagle mascot, but I couldn't find it. I asked a nearby kiosk vendor, and she pointed at a kiosk across the aisle. 

SNOWpy Ice Cream.

They actually make a very good strawberry softy.

Lesson No. 2

The adorable baby angel is Merly's first granchild, nicknamed "Undo" (pronounced "Uhn-dooh", which loosely means "little man".

What is Undo's real name? I asked Merly.

"Kit Lance," she replied.

Why "Kit"? Filipinos come up with the most unusual and psychedelic names, mostly ones that combine two or three other names into one, and every now and then names that make you go "Huh?". For instance, I have a cousin name Rusevanchris, which stands for Rustico, Evangeline, Christopher; and Dranreb, "for Bernard", the child's paternal grandfather. Huh?!

Merly answered "that's the baby's father's name."

Still confused, and seeking clarification I asked further "Kit, spelled K-I-T?"

"With a T-H," Merly said rather disdainfully.

Me: (confused) Huh?

"K-E-I-T-H," Merly spelled.

Huh.