transposable element

there’s a hailstorm outside my window. when is this cold spell going to end? it’s the end of may, for heaven’s sake (pun intended)!

darren at ProBlogger is inviting bloggers to reflect on the habits that make them highly effective. am not sure if i am one, but it’s something i definitely want to be. i’m not exactly sure how one measures effectivity in blogging– is it getting the message across? number of posts? traffic? revenues? all of the above?– but reflecting on the blogging habits i’ve formed during the past several months, here are some points i’ve realized:

1. i am more than just a blogger. i am a mother, a wife, a friend, and many others before being a blogger. i may be trying to eke out some income from blogging, but there are a lot of things that comes in precedence to it.

2. i am not a blogging machine. i am a warm-blooded, living human being, prone to moods, infection, hormonal cyles, and bad hair days. there are days i churn out a dozen of blog entries a day, and it’s great. but on those days i am not as productive, i take a break, reward myself with some time off, and try not to feel guilty.

3. i pay attention to occupational hazards. google “ergonomics” and “carpal tunnel syndrome” and you’ll know what i mean. afterall, there are so many other things i can do with my hands aside from tapping on the keyboard and clicking the mouse–washing dishes, building with lego, and giving my partner a massage, to name a few. when the urge to write persists, there’s the reliable ol’ pen-and-paper.

4. in general, i do not blog on weekends. consider it my corporate principles, if you may. but this is related to #1 above.

5. i need time alone. hail those who can whip up several entries on snippets of time. i just can’t. i need peace and quiet, which i only have when my son is in kindergarten, or late at night. i wish i can train myself to blog early in the morning when the household is still asleep, but i’ve long ago accepted that i’m simply not a morning person.

6. i read and link to other people’s blogs. while i am proud of every single blog of mine (i have a total of four, including this one), i recognize that mine are not the only ones worth a reader’s time. i don’t have any objection to spreading some link-lovin’ and drawing my readers’ attention to other blogs that may also be of interest to them.

re-reading the above, it seems that except for the last one, my collection have been rather blogger-centric. there’s a lot of science involved in the making of a successful blog, technical details you can read in blogs about blogging. i’ll have to admit i’m still a novice when it comes to that, but one thing i am convinced of: for the blog to be successful, the blogger has to be a person first, a blogger next.

it’s an official holiday today here in germany: christi himmelfahrt. yes, ascension day, but i prefer the german term. it’s more desciptive, more poetic, somehow. what i don’t know is why it’s also the day they chose to celebrate fathers’ day. surely, it doesn’t have anything to do with the controversy surrounding the recently released tom hanks-starrer da vinci film, which allegedly (haven’t seen the film myself) alludes to christ fathering a child with mary magdalene.

or?

til i got here in germany, i’ve never heard of playmobil. lego, yes. barbie, yes. but playmobil? in hindsight, i never really played a lot with such figures anyway. i spent a lot of my childhood either getting my knees and shins scraped, or with some girl friends, doing acrobatic stuff with a piece of garter. sure, we did a lot of role-playing games, too. we built houses from bedsheets, and chopped up my mother’s orchids as we played with miniature clay pots and stoves.

for jan, it’s a totally different box of toys. and last week, since our venice trip was cancelled, and jan was too-sick-for-kindergarten-but-not-too-sick-to-stay-home, we went to the playmobil fun park in zirndorf, off nürnberg. the delight in jan’s eyes as he saw his current favorite figured magnified a thousand fold: priceless!

at the entrance:

with the vikings:

and the hit of the day, the pirate ship!

i have never been good at reading between the lines. or interpreting nuances and allusions. i don’t know whether having been trained as a scientist made me oblivious to vague innuendos. or perhaps, it has nothing to do with that. just plain apathy to things i don’t immediately get. i prefer dealing with cold hard facts. tell me the truth, the way it is. don’t feed me hyped-up stories, the real stuff buried under several layers of half-truths, double-meanings and exaggerations. i don’t have the time nor the inclination to dig.

what’s so wrong with delivering the plain, unembellished truth anyway? you know: that sort without the extra phrase to make it sound like something more than it is. that which isn’t an inch short of being a lie by omission.

is it a skill, concocting stories, stringing words carefully almost like a piece of art, saying a thousand words without saying anything at all? go on, tell your fables. but you won’t find an audience here anymore.

huli man daw at magaling: the latest issue of pinoyexpats, Homeward Bound, is up!

it never ceases to amaze and inspire me how many outstanding pinoys there are all over the globe, and i am so proud to be part of the webzine that helps bring them out to the limelight. but that’s just half of the package. the other thing that makes me so happy to be part of pinoyexpats are the people behind the scenes. truly talented, outstanding pinoys in their own right. these guys rock.

thanks, kat, for organizing a terrific issue. great job!

for all my whining about life here in germany, there are actually a lot of perks. education is free, sometimes even until post-graduate. social security is (still) reliable. the train arrives on time (ok, most of the time).

but perhaps one of the things that i can kiss the land underneath my feet for is the healthcare system. it simply works.

last weekend found us in the emergency room. we were attended to in 2 minutes. medical insurance card out, and after 15 minutes were consulting with the attending pediatrician. we were given prescriptions to bring to the pharmacy. give prescription, take medicines.

yesterday, jan and i went for a check up with his regular pedia. card out, and about an hour later we were at the pharmacy, exchanging the prescription slip for an inhaler, some solutions and a bottle of antibiotic.

at no point did we need cash. not a single cent.

afterall, isn’t that the principle of medical insurance? you pay monthly premiums so that in times of need, you don’t have to anymore? germany has probably one of the most comprehensive coverage, and i’m not even talking about private insurances. what we have is the “public” insurance, which even the unemployed and those on social welfare get (you can’t pay for it? no problem, state pays for it!). as long as you have prescription, you just pay a maximum of €5 at the pharmacy, irregardless of your total expenses. and with children, even that €5 is waived. you pay nothing. zilch. nada. zero.

of all the plastic in my purse, my health insurance card weaves the most magic.

sometimes, decisions have to be made. and quickly, too.

the other evening, i needed all of 5 minutes to weigh, contemplate, review the pros and cons, and give hubby my go-signal to extend his contract, virtually wiping off any possibility of relocation anytime this year.

and today, we just returned form the emergency clinic. jan was diagnosed of severe bronchitis (he just started sniffing two (!) days ago). we went home, had jan take his medication, and as soon as i could, logged in. i just cancelled our hotel bookings for venice 30 seconds ago.

I saw that I was witnessing an important lesson in Parisian life: I mustn’t try to make people like me. That’s too much English. You’ve got to show them that you don’t give a shit what they think. Only then will you get what you want. I’d been doing it all wrong, trying to win people over. If you smile too much, they think you’re retarded.

i have been recently exchanging emails with a former mate in college i wanted to solicit an article for pinoyexpats from (arrgh, did i get all my prepositions correct?). in a postscript –which comes as a separate email in this one-click age– he asked, “how do you taray in german?”. my email must have sent him on a short reminiscing trip to the past and was remined of the temperamental b*tch i used to be back in college. unfortunately, i’ve mellowed since then.

i may not be a brit in france, but that quote up there could have very well applied to me living here in germany. and that last sentence applies to fresh-off-the-boat asians all too well. but in the five-almost-six years i have been here in germany, i’ve learned that there are only few options to get what you want here, the easiest being: say what you want. politeness is optional, and beating around the bush won’t get you anywhere.

that said, I am enjoying Stephen Clarke’s A Year in the Merde immensely. even when i read something funny, rarely do i actually laugh out loud. but this book is more than my shaking shoulders can contain. a must read for all you expats in europe. hilarious with a capital H.

When I die, I wish it would be just like how Oma L did: uneventful, undramatic, simply slipping away from the reiteration life has become. She lived a full life of more than 80 years, survived by three daughters, half a dozen grandchildren and more great-grandchildren than most of us will probably ever live to see. She had a harmonious relationship with a husband whose memories still prompted a wayward tear and whose watch she still wore long after the hands have stopped ticking. To her last day, it was how she wished it would be: in her own home, in the neighborhood that has known her for decades. Not in the hospital, not in a home for the elderly. She had her wits about her til the last moment, comparatively fit and healthy. She was not sick, she just spent lovely days with her children, individually and all together.

Of course, it was a loss. And we will miss her. But how can you grieve the passing of someone whose life has been lived to its fullest? How can you not let her go, when she herself has been ready, no longer expecting more from Life? What more can one ask for?