Maja and Cling Wrap (re-posted for fun)

(This was originally posted waaaaaay back in 2008 (or was it 2009?). i forgot to save the date. but that isn't important. pulled it down since it presented me as some lecherously dirty old man, but just republished this for the humor in it. )
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Last I checked, the store still had a couple of those giant-sized rolls of cling wrap that we use to cover up furniture that's either been sold, or prepared for delivery…

I will need that cling wrap…

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"...he must make sure that Her Petite-Perfectness was sitting in my chair when the whole thing happened..."

See, I was told by my brother that the oh-so-perfect-even-without-a-cleavage Maja Salvador is scheduled to do a motorcade in Northern Luzon this June, including Baguio City. This is part of her duties as endorser of “Sisters Feminine Pads.” My bro said that there was some possibility (or he can supposedly “ask” on my behalf), for [my] Maja to make a stop at our store.

Naturally, I couldn’t contain myself.

But there was always the possibility that I wasn’t going to be uptown when that happened. So I came up with a solution for me to somehow experience the “Maja-ness,” should I be in Manila/Maverick when the grand event happened.

Should the glorious arrival of the “somebody-please-pick-up-my-jaw-from-floor-and-reattach-it-just-because-i-imagined-seeing-her” Maja Salvador truly come to pass, I have asked my brother to invite Her Gorgeousness for a brief chat at our fifth floor office. But he must make sure that Her Petite-Perfectness was sitting in my chair when the whole thing happened (for at least five minutes).

Then the very second that Her Tiny-Goddess-ness stands up from my chair, we will have office staff quickly wrap up the chair with clingy wrap to lock in the “Maja-ness.”

Upon my return to the Baguio office, I shall ask for time alone, then proceed to slowly and ceremoniously unwrap my chair, and break down in tears of joy.

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Please do not be afraid. As of the moment, this whole thing is merely imagined.

‘Catch you later.

Letters to Marge (Chapter 29): Who are you?

Dearest Marge,

Who are you?

I took you to ballet class one sleepy saturday. And after shooing you into the studio, i proceeded to try and watch you and the entire class from behind through the breaks in the window blinds.

Call me an idiot for a dad, but for a couple of seconds, i couldn't tell which one was you. See, each and every one of you were in your cute pink ballerina uniforms and doing your damnedest best to follow your teacher. Except one kid standing in the front row who couldn't keep still and incessantly chatted with the other girl beside her. Yup, that was you, kid. A long time ago, i remember being told about another kid couldn't sit still. That kid still can't. Not even while waiting for his little girl go through ballet class.

At three and a half years old, it's still too soon to tell if you will grow up into which of the following: a general, a trooper, or what i've come to refer to as S.W.A.T.

No, we have no plans of drafting you into the military! Let me explain what i mean...

I believe that people are born hardwired as certain kinds of people.

As of this writing, there are over six billion people on the planet. That's six billion unique people with unique thoughts, unique sets of talents, unique habits, unique this and that and so on. So yes, despite the cutesy pink ballet uniforms, you are absolutely unique. When you grow up, you can choose to play on the strengths of your uniqueness, or you can choose to keep putting on uniforms, whether to become a nameless trooper in an army following orders or eventually becoming a general and giving them.

Or you may be a S.W.A.T. (my own lame version of this acronym is: Special Wants And Talents)

SWATs in the army are usually only called when their unique abilities and personalities are really needed. They do not necessarily conform to the regular regimen of the "everyday troopers." They are still soldiers and are part of the whole concept of defense and law enforcement, but on their operations, they make their own rules.

Your dad is a S.W.A.T.

It does not make me better or worse than generals (like your Uncle Pom), or troopers (like your Uncle Wilson). But it does make me "me."

Sometimes, i admire one of them for their command of people. Sometimes, i envy the other one for their simple outlook in life. But i have tried and found myself utterly uncomfortable in their skins. So i have settled into my own and have not looked back much. I still find myself wishing i was this or that, but i have found my life to be much more peaceful inside upon settling on the person i have decided to define myself to be.

The sooner you define yourself and stick to it, the sooner you will be at peace with your space in the infinite spectra of personality. It allows you to still stretch yourself and reach out, but at least your heart and mind will be anchored somewhere. So while you learn new things, meet new people, and see new places as you go on through life, all these things will enrich your life, without changing who you are.
'catch you later.

Love,
Dad

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