Camera shy

My preccocious little toddler has picked up the bad habit of dropping things into the garbage bin. The concept of trash is still alien to her. I think she just finds it a lot of fun to drop things in with the nice flip-flapping plastic lid of our huge trash bin. And so a week came by without me noticing that our digital camera, an Olympus worth about Dhs. 1,000/- (approximately US$272.00) has gone missing. I spent the weekend turning the house upside-down and inside-out in the hope of finding the camera as I had bought the blasted thing to record my daughter's precious early years in the first place....but to no avail. My search was a failure and am now a thousand dirhams poorer sans digital camera. I'm now back to the film-reliant version. The thing is, I have to get them developed and scanning them and downsizing their file sizes are such hassles. I've written my daughter a note sealed in an enveloped to be opened when her first pay check comes. Inside is a note that says: "You owe me a camera!"

Health

My dad may be coming down with Alzheimer's disease. It was a sad weekend for me, worrying about my father and moreso, of my mom who is the only one left to care for everyone else. Sometimes I wish I could be nearer my folks so I could help them. The need to find greener pastures has blown my sails into these parts of the desert and yet my anchor is left in the shores of the Philippines.

A year earlier, dad discovered a cyst in his right temple. After a series of lab tests and MRI scans, doctors decided to leave it be lest they puncture or damage more than they ought to cure. This had caused my dad some epileptic-like seizures on several occasions but has held on firmly to the fact that alternative and herbal medication may find him a cure. He's been quite strong and positive about the whole thing...the fact that cancer in his family is rampant. And now, he may have the same disease that former US president Reagan has which his own aunt (my dad's) had.

Despite the care we give our bodies, something just seems to creep up on us as we grow older. I may not be feeling anyhting wrong with me now in my early 30s but I dread the things that I will suffer from by the time I hit 40. This brings me to ponder upon the fact that I was never really good at taking care of my physical being. My husband is bound to suffer the same fate as I granting we have the same lifestyle, diet, habits...

I wouldn't dream of passing our ailing bodies as a burden to our child. This dilemna is like an annoying singular fly in an all white square room with me in the typewriter. I know I have to do something about it but for the moment I'm preoccupied.

A bit of Spanish

I can no longer speak as fluently as when I was eating, breathing, living with Spanish in my head all the time in university. Years of non-practice has grown molds and rust into my Spanish speaking abilities. To attempt a casual conversation with a native speaker would be like an adult speaking with a child still on the early stages of language acquisition. It is sad to note that all those language subjects I've taken in college have all gone to waste.

Yo soy no creado como cualquier persona que he visto; Creo que yo soy no creado como cualquier persona en existencia. Si no soy mejor, por lo menos soy diferente.