I'm just an ordinary girl.
A delightfully dysfunctional individual who is filled with curiosity.
And since I'm not a cat, it's not dangerous.
The picture wasn’t of a celebrity. It wasn’t of a supermodel. It was of a woman sitting in her underwear with a smile on her face and a belly that looks…wait for it… normal.
To be clear, I’m not on the “real women have curves” bandwagon here, arguing that only bodies like Lizzie’s are “real”—and that slender women are all unreal waifs who should just eat a cheeseburger and get over themselves. Turning the tables so we can bash one type instead of another isn’t the answer. Celebrating the fact that we’re all born different is. Think about it: In real life, women of all shapes and sizes have crazy sex appeal and killer confidence.
My best friend died in a car accident on his way to deliver me soup for my cold.
Found in the car was also a bouquet of flowers and a card that read:
“We’ve been best friends for the last 5 years. Now, let’s be lovers for the next 50.”
When I was still teaching, I used to teach after my classes at the college. I was very tired one day when the children that day decided to give me a harder time.
A very naughty boy who usually cause trouble became very obedient that day and his behavior led his friends to do the same.
At the end of the class, I called him to thank him for behaving his best. He looked at me for a moment then said, “I’m sorry you were tired. I’ll always help you.”
“Thank you.” I said.
He paused a brief moment and said, “Will you marry me?”
I wore the plastic ring he gave me for the next two months until I quit my job.
Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out precisely how we feel, stop deciding with our minds exactly what we want our hearts to feel. Sometimes we just have to go with the flow and enjoy life.
Sometimes, when I look at a picture of an old book, I can already smell the musty pages. I don’t think there is anything like it in the world and you can only find it at used book stores and even when you bring the book home and it becomes part of the aromas of your own home, it still retains that old, worn smell. Love it!
Today a homeless man crossed a street with a shopping cart full of his belongings.
Something went wrong and the cart tipped over and his possessions went everywhere.
A man in a suit and tie got out of his BMW, got on his hands and knees, and frantically helped the man gather his things.
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Cool story Life
In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-disabled children. At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that will never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, “Where is the perfection in my son Shay? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God’s perfection?”
The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father’s anguish, and stilled by the piercing query. “I believe,” the father answered, “that, when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child.”
He then told the following story about his son Shay:
One afternoon Shay and his father walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they will let me play?”
Shay’s father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But he also understood that his son’s being chosen to play would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. He approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shay could play.
The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said “We are losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team, and we’ll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning.”
Shay’s father was ecstatic as Shay smiled broadly. Shay was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning they scored again. Now they had two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base.
Shay was the batter up. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved up a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay should at least be able to make contact.
The first pitch came, and Shay swung clumsily and missed. One of Shay’s teammates came up to Shay, and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher, waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay.
As the pitch came in, Shay and his teammate swung at the ball, and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.
The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out, and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond the first baseman’s reach.
Everyone started yelling, “Shay, run to first; run to first.” Never in his life had Shay run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide‑eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball.
He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman, who would tag out Shay, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher’s intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman’s head.
Everyone yelled, “Run to second; run to second.” Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases toward home.
As Shay reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third.”
As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, “Shay, run home!”
Shay ran home, stepped on home plate, and all eighteen boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero because he had just hit a grand slam and won the game for his team.
“That day,” said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, “those eighteen boys reached the level of God’s perfection.”
Every July, I will repost a blog entry I wrote in 2007. This blog post holds a very special meaning. It is about a man I met on July 2007. A man who apparently had touched my life in such a way, I can never forget everything about him. His voice, his smile, his words, his hug, and his love. He will be an eternal part of my life and this is my tribute for him. This year would be exactly three years after our encounter.
—-
This is based on my real life experience, one I rarely tell people about.
I feel lucky that I’ve got the chance to know some nice people around the world. I’ve come to realize that there are so many things I’ve yet to see and so many lessons I’ve yet to learn. Meeting these people from all around the world opens my eyes to the unknown treasures. As one once said, “What’s life without a little bit risk?” Life is a chance you have to take on. It’s short. And you can only have it once. If we don’t do what we want to right now, how do we know that the same opportunity will present itself twice in our life? This is not only about learning and trying new things. This is also about opening your heart to accept and get to know new people.
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”
How true. Sometimes, we spend the whole time judging everyone we meet and we simply overlook their unique characteristics and forget to love them. In every person, there is the bright and the dark side. There’s a good side and the evil side. What matters is which side we choose to act on. Of course, nobody’s perfect. It is difficult to see all the goodness in every person and love them anyway. Why is it difficult? Because what meets the eyes often are the negative side of a person. By noticing their weakest points, we gain the feeling of being stronger and more powerful. We would feel we are better. It’s sad how we should secure ourselves with such a way. Isn’t it better if we meet all the great people in the world and learn from them? Even, we can learn from every person, not just the great ones.
I met Tony in Milan, Italy, two years ago. The encounter left a deep impression on me. At that time, I was in the middle of a shopping spree program designed by my tour guide. Of course, my family and I couldn’t afford the stuffs. All the shops lining neatly were branded shops such as Gucci, Louis Vuitton, etc,. Therefore, we decided to switch to all nation’s hang-out place, McDonalds. That was where I met him. When we walked into the restaurant, the place was very crowded. After sifting through the tables, we (my mother, my sister and I) found an empty table with a cup of coffee half full on it. I thought someone had left the table and whoever that person must’ve decided to leave the coffee, so we sat down. Not long after, there was a Western guy who came over and told us that the coffee was his. He then took the cup and was about to leave when I suddenly felt uneasy. I knew there was nowhere else to sit. I then told him that he should take my seat but he refused my offer. I insisted before he reluctantly accepted my offer. We sat down without talking to each other for few minutes. Then I felt a sudden urge to smile at him. It was the simplest gesture on earth but at that time, it wasn’t easy for me to do. I didn’t grow up in a friendly neighborhood/society where everyone smiles at strangers easily. But I did it anyway, and boy, aren’t I glad I did it. He returned my smile with a much more friendly smile and we got to talking. My mother, being a sensitive and negative person she is, didn’t seem to like the idea of me getting involved in a conversation with a stranger. I knew she was eager to interrupt me but she was rather helpless since she couldn’t speak any English. She only eyed me stiffly from where she sat but I couldn’t care less about her. Tony had this soothing calm voice that reflected a glimpse of playfulness and he immediately had my undivided attention. We were sitting rather closely and since I wasn’t really confident on my listening skill, I leaned towards him to hear his every words and I think this was another reason why my mother would love to drag me out of the store.
I was grateful having met Tony that day, I still am and I will always be, because he told me how I had brightened up his day. He told me that he was from New York and he visited Italy to live with his brother for few months. There would be someone who would come from New York to join him. He said he’d been hanging around the city for three weeks and always ending up at McDonalds. He would sit alone, watching people come and go while sipping his hot coffee. When I asked him what he did for a living, he took out an old picture of his. He was a wedding dress designer and the picture showed a very good-looking, well-cut, friendly, and lively young man dressed in suit. We had a great casual talk, until I asked him why he chose to spend his times rather meaninglessly in Italy. I wondered why he didn’t visit somewhere more exciting or do something more challenging. It was when I asked the question that he unbuttoned his shirt and showed me a lump on his chest. He told me, he only had 3 more months to live. And the last thing he wanted would be wasting time traveling from one point to another. The time spent on the journey themselves was too precious. It didn’t matter where he was, or who he spent time with. It was rather a confusing concept for me to digest. I asked him how he could feel satisfied spending 3 weeks sitting alone with bad coffee at McDonalds? He then told me that he was never alone. He saw a lot of people. Tourists walked by, all happy and glowing. People were laughing and enjoying the times of their lives. They looked so blissfully happy, he could share their happiness and felt happy too. I was rather speechless. It was before I was about to tell him how I didn’t believe him when I saw his old wrinkled face and I realized, he wasn’t telling a lie. Tony said, “I don’t need people feeling sorry for me because I’m about to die. I’m happy when someone came over and said hi.” I only smiled to his words. He continued, “If I make someone’s life easier only by offering him or her a seat, it’s really enough. The little things matter.”
I almost cried. And I am the last person on Earth who would or could cry in public. Not only was I touched by his words but the way he said it, it was so… simple. And peaceful. He was beaming so I held my tears back. I couldn’t offend him in such a way. I listened to him, relenting to speak more than necessary and letting him touch my soul. During those 20 minutes, he told me so many things. At last, we finished the conversation and he stood up. He offered to buy me some ice cream. I told him it was supposed to be on me but he only laughed at me. He then had this playful spark in his eyes when he told me that I would make the perfect daughter one can ask for. He regretted the fact I couldn’t be his daughter and he offered me to go back to NY with him and marry his youngest son, Richard. He went on promoting his son, telling me how he was a handsome (not as handsome as he was when he was young, though, he said) and successful 29-year-old lawyer. I didn’t know what to say. I asked him why he could even think of joking about something like that. His face was serious when he replied me, “I’ve prepared some stuffs for Richard’s brothers and sisters, but he’s the only one whom I haven’t prepared anything for. So, why not a nice girl from him? You are beautiful, very nice, and you would make the perfect gift.”
I didn’t accept compliments daily. But I’ve received compliments for sure. As a human, there were some people who hated me and some who loved me. But never ever, in my 19 years of life, I felt so beautiful and appreciated. I felt like I’ve done something very good. I was… what I felt was pure joy and gratitude. I barely did nothing for him. What I did was merely… sitting down and talking to him. I really felt like I was the most beautiful woman at that time and I did cry. I hugged him and told him, “I’d really love to do that. I’d love to go New York and marry your son. Thank you. But now, I gotta go because my tour guide is calling me over there.” Tony kissed both of my cheeks and smiled, “Thanks for accepting the offer. Have a safe trip and enjoy your holiday.”
Enjoy your holiday.
These three cliche words have always been meaningless to me, I always took them for granted. I never thought how a cup of coffee could brighten up both of our days so much. I came to a realization that we would never, never know when we’d meet someone really special. Someone so special, he or she would leave such a deep impression in our heart. I would never find out that Tony was in need of a friend to talk to or that he would die in few months’ time, had I decided not to offer him my seat. I couldn’t imagine what I would’ve missed had I been as grumpy, negative and suspicious as my mother. I probably would only sit beside Tony with a stinky face and did nothing. I learned a lesson that day. A little smile can start something worthwhile. So, be nice to everybody. Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one leaves you without being happier. And it could be anyone. Not only someone you meet on vacation but probably someone you sitting next to you on the bus to work this morning.
If today I haven’t said my prayer, I will do it now. I’m so thankful for the opportunity to meet Tony. We came from different worlds, different parts of the Earth, different races and different generations. Different backgrounds and different paths of life. But still, we met. I hope he’s happy wherever he is right now. And I hope Richard had received his gift from his father.
Written on 21 July 2008, dedicated to Tony Morgan.
Today, I saw a homeless man with a big jar of money at McDonald’s.
I thought he was going to buy food, but no.
Instead, he donated all of the money to the charity McDonald’s was supporting.
A man with nothing, gives. He GMH.
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Life :)
Sometimes, I feel and think about too many things at once and I get confused.
This is a message for all the runners out there. You know who you are. You assume the best in people’s notions and your faith in people overcomes your eyes. In every sense, the disposition you face is the argument between what you want, and what is in front of you. Recently, tragedy in the form of one-aligned strings have taken place amongst many of my surrounding neighbours. They come and collide in crushing style, crashing and creeping against the malevolent truth behind this running track. It’s okay to drown yourself with hope, but don’t think these waters are easy to overcome. To hope is to simply admit towards blurry defeat and destruction. But, at the same time, the beauty of the unknown air speaks to you like an roar of encouragement, of motivation, and of faith. You. You are the true soldiers. You are the ones that are willing to risk the obstacle of the impossible, and admit defeat. You are the ones that are ready to pursue what’s not in front of you. You are brave. And because of your journey, you are better than the stationary beings of the cowardly. You should pity the people that only believe battles of Love and Dreams are battles that aren’t worth the pain. You’re not afraid to run, not because you know where the finish line is, but simply because you know it exists. Because of you, everything that is forward, exists. Keep running. You can change your directions, pavements, people - but never stop believing in what you are running for.
I’m not special. I’m just like everybody else. I don’t deserve a prize or attention for trying to do the right things in life, which as far as I can tell is what average people do. Average people share French fries, blankets, and hugs. Normal, everyday, average human beings follow certain rules. At night, use the buddy system. He who smelt it, dealt it. You break it, you fix it. Average people make mistakes. They try. They fail. They try. They fail again. They try. And if they win, they don’t walk around the playground showing off their gold star. The full spectrum of human emotion passes through average people like a rainbow colonic.
It’s not easy being human. Those runty princes and princesses who think they’re special are at a disadvantage. They are not special. They’re just like you and me. Insecure. Hopeful. A blemish here, a doubt there. A heart that’s a secret lock box of whispers and giggles. Those swaggering aristocrats are just as full of fear and joy as the rest of us. In the summer, they are stinky. In the winter, they might wear their socks two days in a row.
Which is the best reason to just be yourself. And why not? Even those people who think they’re the love child of Zeus and a unicorn are just being themselves. Usually, those people behave like they’re special and are therefore easy to avoid. Avoid them! And start looking for average people just like you. They’re out there, and they’re probably looking for you too.
Be average. But don’t be a coward. Bravely be just you. Don’t feel gorgeous? On days where I feel fat or dumpy or just unlovable, you know what I do? I don’t wait for life to make me feel anymore gross than I already feel. I take the fight to life. I go out. I buy a nice shirt. I avoid mirrors or reflective surfaces. I hang out with other average friends, and laugh, and try to go to bed with a smile. Then I wake up and do it all over again. I fail. I try. I win. I fail.
Being average is hard work.
This is my Recipe of The Month. :)
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Pesto Sauce Pasta Recipe of The Month Cooking Life
