Jandrea...so far

Story #1: Nancy Drew   I was addicted to the Nancy Drew stories when I was in Grade school. It was my obsession to read all of the books in this collection. Not being able to afford to buy them, I would just wait for my aunt to give them to me as pasalubong from  the US or I would borrow them from my 2nd cousin, Gelene, who had, it seemed to me then, all the titles listed in the back of every volume.       Not only did I want to read every Nancy Drew adventure ever published, I also wanted to read them as fast as I could every time I got hold of one. So that when I was in the middle of one and it was lights out time,  I would continue reading under the kulambo using a flashlight.      DId I get to read all of the Nancy Drew books? Nah, adolescence got in the way. I was introduced to other reading fare. And they became my next obsession. (See Story #3) Story #2: "Ghost Story"      My aunt who used t...

May 30, '10 2:07 PM "God is manifest in the ordinary, in the actual, in the daily, in the now, in the concrete incarnations of life." ... — from Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality         During Mass yesterday, feeling absolutely low, some kids from Catechism class were asked to sit with me. The tears just had to stop. At the end of the mass, one 5-year-old even managed to kick my little toe. Aaaw! Bleeding, how could I not concentrate on my physical pain instead of the one in my heart? Strange ways God picks to make one forget desperation, even for a while!

27 October 2005                                                                                   (Inspired by my dear friend, Chei) A rationalization in the first degree! For what I hope will be my reward for not putting physical attractiveness in the top of my list on how to have a meaningful life. But let's face it. Those who have external cutaneous superiority reap all the advantages in this world. Psychological studies attest to this. And I would be a traitor to my profession if I didn't agree with this assertion. Empirical data shows that they get higher grades. They get...

   Since I discovered Khalil Gibran in my teens, his words have always helped me look beyond what I can see. He has reminded me that there's a world deep inside each of us that can be one's source of comfort in times of need.

Loose & polite translation:             "Do not relieve yourself here. People eat the vegetables planted here.              I swear those who don't heed this warning will be stricken with leprosy." Saw this sign on our street while walking home from church one Sunday. I figure the owner of the little roadside garden had had too many encounters with people who ignore warnings of the verbal kind. Kaya, eto ang sa inyo! (Sfx: Evil laughter with accompanying thunder and lightning!)

     There’s so much to tell about Flory. As I recall the many memories I have of her, they alternately bring me to the brink of tears or laughter escapes even from this unhappy heart.  My story of Flory has been very hard to write, not because there are deep dark secrets I’m trying hard not to reveal, but because I know the way I will relate my memories of her will always pale in comparison to the way she would tell her version of these memories.                   I first met Flory in college, in the late 1970s, when we were members of the UP Psychology Society. Then in the 1980s, our paths crossed again at the Foreign Service Institute. I was delighted to see a romance blossoming between two of my friends. (Trygve was a former colleague of my then would-be husband, Dani). As we shared a workplace for some years, we were witnesses to each other’s weddings, the birth...