Several paths are laid before me
Which way to go, I don’t worry
I’m confident I’m on the right way
For His light shines upon me.
So many voices are calling out to me
But these don’t confuse me
I know which one to answer
For His voice is louder than the others.
Problems of different forms confront me
But these shall never defeat me
I know I can overcome all these
For He teaches me the way.
Against all of life’s storms, I’ll stand firmly
Amidst all evil, I’ll stay untouched
I believe God takes care of me
Because I know He loves me so much.
This piece was written in 1991. I was 13.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
Classics and me: Changing my stand
In my February 8, 2006 post (The Challenge), I challenged myself to read eight classics, in addition to some non-classics I planned to finish this year. The challenge was for me to find out if I’d ever be able to stand classics, which I’d always labeled as boring, their language and themes being reflective of eras I can hardly relate to.
Eight classics after, here I am, ready to concede that my friends Salve and Tayns are right in thinking that classics do present interesting facets of the lives and events in the authors’ respective milieus.
Needless to say, I did enjoy my foray into the world of classical literature. I laughed at Tom Sawyer’s and Huckleberry Finn’s antics in Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; chuckled at Scout and Jem Finch’s frolics in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird; emphatized with Oliver in Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist; wondered if indeed Pearl in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter was out of this world; flinched at Catherine and Heathcliff’s unapologetic brashness in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights; lived with the gods and goddesses in Edith Hamilton’s Mythology; and laughed at Pettrucio’s wit and got shattered by Katherine’s “taming” in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew.
I got so engrossed in the challenge that I no longer simply borrow classic books from friends. I have started collecting. Just last night, I bought a copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility and Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. And yesterday afternoon, Ellen gave me a copy of Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing as a Christmas present.
So I am glad I made that challenge for myself. Not only was I able to conquer my “allergy” toward “Old English” but I also discovered a world beyond my turf. Now, I can say classics aren’t really so bad; thanks to Tayns and Salve for their encouragement. It took me quite some time before I got “infected” with their “afflictions,” but I’m glad I eventually managed to develop this “classic disorder.”
*One might ask how I fared in the non-classics. I am happy to say I was able to finish all the titles I listed — and more. I also enjoyed all the courtroom dramas in John Grisham’s The Pelican Brief, The Client, The Partner, The Chamber, The Runaway Jury and The Brethren; and a lot more (list to follow).
But while I did well in the non-classics and read most of the classics I dared require myself to finish, I must admit there were classic titles I failed to read: Jane Austen’s Emma and Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper simply because I don’t yet have a copy of said works; and Milton’s Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, which I did try to read, but did not quite finish, it being a poem and poem being not a favorite read of mine. I also have a copy of Ferdinand Marcos’ The New Society (it was my mom’s and it's not in the list) but I did not even touch it, politics (which I hate) being its theme.
So I guess I both lost and won the challenge. And that means I can — and will — buy the white gold necklace I’ve been wanting for myself. That is, if it’s still there. As for treating my friends to lunch or dinner, I don’t think there would be any problem with that. Anyway, it's Christmas.
** Just in case there are those who are thinking that my claims — that I am very busy and that I have read all these things — are conflicting, here’s the explanation: I always bring a book wherever I go. I read while waiting, while cueing and while traveling. I am such an impatient person that I always need to be doing something, lest I’d be very annoyed, especially when the person I’m supposed to meet don’t come on time. So bringing a book with me is like shooting two birds with one stone — it lets me cope with my reading program and helps prevent my temper from flaring when someone doesn't come close to my expectations.
Eight classics after, here I am, ready to concede that my friends Salve and Tayns are right in thinking that classics do present interesting facets of the lives and events in the authors’ respective milieus.
Needless to say, I did enjoy my foray into the world of classical literature. I laughed at Tom Sawyer’s and Huckleberry Finn’s antics in Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn; chuckled at Scout and Jem Finch’s frolics in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird; emphatized with Oliver in Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist; wondered if indeed Pearl in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter was out of this world; flinched at Catherine and Heathcliff’s unapologetic brashness in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights; lived with the gods and goddesses in Edith Hamilton’s Mythology; and laughed at Pettrucio’s wit and got shattered by Katherine’s “taming” in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew.
I got so engrossed in the challenge that I no longer simply borrow classic books from friends. I have started collecting. Just last night, I bought a copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility and Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. And yesterday afternoon, Ellen gave me a copy of Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing as a Christmas present.
So I am glad I made that challenge for myself. Not only was I able to conquer my “allergy” toward “Old English” but I also discovered a world beyond my turf. Now, I can say classics aren’t really so bad; thanks to Tayns and Salve for their encouragement. It took me quite some time before I got “infected” with their “afflictions,” but I’m glad I eventually managed to develop this “classic disorder.”
*One might ask how I fared in the non-classics. I am happy to say I was able to finish all the titles I listed — and more. I also enjoyed all the courtroom dramas in John Grisham’s The Pelican Brief, The Client, The Partner, The Chamber, The Runaway Jury and The Brethren; and a lot more (list to follow).
But while I did well in the non-classics and read most of the classics I dared require myself to finish, I must admit there were classic titles I failed to read: Jane Austen’s Emma and Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper simply because I don’t yet have a copy of said works; and Milton’s Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, which I did try to read, but did not quite finish, it being a poem and poem being not a favorite read of mine. I also have a copy of Ferdinand Marcos’ The New Society (it was my mom’s and it's not in the list) but I did not even touch it, politics (which I hate) being its theme.
So I guess I both lost and won the challenge. And that means I can — and will — buy the white gold necklace I’ve been wanting for myself. That is, if it’s still there. As for treating my friends to lunch or dinner, I don’t think there would be any problem with that. Anyway, it's Christmas.
** Just in case there are those who are thinking that my claims — that I am very busy and that I have read all these things — are conflicting, here’s the explanation: I always bring a book wherever I go. I read while waiting, while cueing and while traveling. I am such an impatient person that I always need to be doing something, lest I’d be very annoyed, especially when the person I’m supposed to meet don’t come on time. So bringing a book with me is like shooting two birds with one stone — it lets me cope with my reading program and helps prevent my temper from flaring when someone doesn't come close to my expectations.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Beads and anik-aniks
If I weren't a fulltime employee and student, there is another thing I would be very busy in — and that is, creating accessories and trinkets.
Yup my dears. If only I had a lot of time to spare, I'd be having a love affair with those cute little things I love so much — beads, especially crystals. No, let me correct myself. I'd be going back to the old relationship I had with these anik-aniks which I had to let go when my other lives (work and studies) started to demand for more attention.
There's something about beads that thugs at my sense of style and fashion, so that whe
never I see beautiful accessories, I think not of rushing to where the wearer bought them, but of creating one myself, not completely copying what's in the market, but adding tweaks into my creation, so that my accessories will have something different from what buy-only fashion buffs don.
Creating necklaces, earrings, bracelets and cellphone bling-blings is actually one of the things I planned to do this Christmas break. But realizing it may not be possible, I sacrificed one night to create some accessories for myself. And I'm quite happy with the things I was able to create that night, a pair of which I donned for my co-hosting stint in our company's TV program. I wish I'd be able to create some more, and give them as presents to my friends (except Salve and Tayns who, like myself, also make their own accessories) and female cousins. But I guess I may have to rush to the malls instead, and buy them something else.
Ah, Time. Must we always be out of synch? What have I done that made you hate me so?
Yup my dears. If only I had a lot of time to spare, I'd be having a love affair with those cute little things I love so much — beads, especially crystals. No, let me correct myself. I'd be going back to the old relationship I had with these anik-aniks which I had to let go when my other lives (work and studies) started to demand for more attention.
There's something about beads that thugs at my sense of style and fashion, so that whe
never I see beautiful accessories, I think not of rushing to where the wearer bought them, but of creating one myself, not completely copying what's in the market, but adding tweaks into my creation, so that my accessories will have something different from what buy-only fashion buffs don.Creating necklaces, earrings, bracelets and cellphone bling-blings is actually one of the things I planned to do this Christmas break. But realizing it may not be possible, I sacrificed one night to create some accessories for myself. And I'm quite happy with the things I was able to create that night, a pair of which I donned for my co-hosting stint in our company's TV program. I wish I'd be able to create some more, and give them as presents to my friends (except Salve and Tayns who, like myself, also make their own accessories) and female cousins. But I guess I may have to rush to the malls instead, and buy them something else.
Ah, Time. Must we always be out of synch? What have I done that made you hate me so?
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
GMM launches Saluyot
Gumil Metro Manila launched Saluyot, the association's newsletter, during its 40th Anniversary celebration held on December 10, 2006 at Child Jesus College in Bagong Silang, Caloocan City.
You may access the newletter by clicking this link:Saluyot
You may access the newletter by clicking this link:
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Not a Good Cook
I'm not a good cook, and the kitchen,
Except during meals, is the last place I’d be seen in.
But lately, not only do I hum, albeit out of tune
but I’ve also dared put on the apron
And the vegetables, the freshest from my father’s crop
I gathered and carefully peeled and chopped
and cooked, praying they’d be miraculously alright.
I smiled, and before you, I set my specialty
And offered it to you, nervously, humbly
But you were already full, you told me
So you had to decline, saying you were sorry.
Oh, I know what you’d have said had you tasted it
You’d have told me it was the best meal you’ve ever had
And I’m sure you would have meant it
Though we’d both know it’d be far from the truth.
I would have smiled and said, ‘Thank you’
and my heart would have done a somersault.
But still, on the table, the food lay untouched
And I lowered my eyes, careful not to show my pout
It would not have mattered, it would not have hurt
It would not have meant that much
Had the food I offered you hadn’t been my heart.
I’m not a good cook, but I sure tried!
Copyright Sherma Espino Benosa
November 18, 2002
Except during meals, is the last place I’d be seen in.
But lately, not only do I hum, albeit out of tune
but I’ve also dared put on the apron
And the vegetables, the freshest from my father’s crop
I gathered and carefully peeled and chopped
and cooked, praying they’d be miraculously alright.
I smiled, and before you, I set my specialty
And offered it to you, nervously, humbly
But you were already full, you told me
So you had to decline, saying you were sorry.
Oh, I know what you’d have said had you tasted it
You’d have told me it was the best meal you’ve ever had
And I’m sure you would have meant it
Though we’d both know it’d be far from the truth.
I would have smiled and said, ‘Thank you’
and my heart would have done a somersault.
But still, on the table, the food lay untouched
And I lowered my eyes, careful not to show my pout
It would not have mattered, it would not have hurt
It would not have meant that much
Had the food I offered you hadn’t been my heart.
I’m not a good cook, but I sure tried!
Copyright Sherma Espino Benosa
November 18, 2002
Friday, December 08, 2006
A peek into what I'm writing right now...
Just the intro, okay? There may be some grammatical errors, but hey, it's just a draft and the article's not even finished. So, ganun talaga. Besides, if I can think of a better intro, this part may not see print at all.
Here we go...
THE PUFFING HABIT
Why people get into smoking, the health and economic burden of the habit, and tips to break it
By Sherma E. Benosa
Advertisements portray cigarettes as hip, and being seen flipping a stick between fingers or puffing one as ‘cool.’
But what advertisements don’t show are the gory effects this “hip” habit has upon the body. They fail to show that not only is cigarette smoking linked to virtually every chronic illness known to man, but more importantly, that it is the second major cause of death in the world. And so we see people in almost every corner and from all walks of life flicking and puffing those slim sticks, paradoxically, as if their lives depended upon them.
The Very First Puff
The temptation to start smoking can be likened to the very first sin, with advertisements and other tempters representing Eve and the snake; the cigarette stick representing the forbidden fruit; and the would-be smokers representing Adam.
And just as the snake used enlightenment to tempt Eve, so do advertisers link smoking to such sought-after virtues or state as sophistication, good life, success, independence, fun, and nonconformity to lure the gullible public — most often the teen-agers — to their very first stick. And to make its sales pitch more effective, the snake has made a tremendous transformation — from its slimy form to sophisticated and beautiful models, making the temptation even more difficult to resist.
But just as Adam’s very first bite into the forbidden fruit got him and Eve banished from the Garden of Eden and eternally condemned, so can the would-be smoker’s very first puff banish his or her health, and get him or her hooked into the puffing habit, which he or she will soon have to fight off — perhaps for several years, perhaps for life.
For there is something about the first puff that can get most try-only smokers hooked, so that what could have been simply a trial puff or even a social smoking can turn into an unbreakable habit. According to a study by University College of London researchers published in the journal Tobacco Control, if an 11-year old child smokes even just one cigarette, the urge to smoke stays within that child for three years, significantly raising his or her chances of becoming a regular smoker.
This finding is a cause for alarm. According to 2003 data from the US National Institutes of Health (US-NIH), the average age at first use among people 12 years and older is 15.4; among 12- to 17-year-olds, 12.3; and among 18- to 25-year-olds, 14.7. US-NIH adds that the younger a person starts smoking, the more likely he or she is to become addicted; and the more years he or she smokes, the greater are his or her risks of developing smoking-related diseases.
The Forbidden Stick
Oooooooopppppsssss... Sowi, you can read no further. He he he...
Here we go...
THE PUFFING HABIT
Why people get into smoking, the health and economic burden of the habit, and tips to break it
By Sherma E. Benosa
Advertisements portray cigarettes as hip, and being seen flipping a stick between fingers or puffing one as ‘cool.’
But what advertisements don’t show are the gory effects this “hip” habit has upon the body. They fail to show that not only is cigarette smoking linked to virtually every chronic illness known to man, but more importantly, that it is the second major cause of death in the world. And so we see people in almost every corner and from all walks of life flicking and puffing those slim sticks, paradoxically, as if their lives depended upon them.
The Very First Puff
The temptation to start smoking can be likened to the very first sin, with advertisements and other tempters representing Eve and the snake; the cigarette stick representing the forbidden fruit; and the would-be smokers representing Adam.
And just as the snake used enlightenment to tempt Eve, so do advertisers link smoking to such sought-after virtues or state as sophistication, good life, success, independence, fun, and nonconformity to lure the gullible public — most often the teen-agers — to their very first stick. And to make its sales pitch more effective, the snake has made a tremendous transformation — from its slimy form to sophisticated and beautiful models, making the temptation even more difficult to resist.
But just as Adam’s very first bite into the forbidden fruit got him and Eve banished from the Garden of Eden and eternally condemned, so can the would-be smoker’s very first puff banish his or her health, and get him or her hooked into the puffing habit, which he or she will soon have to fight off — perhaps for several years, perhaps for life.
For there is something about the first puff that can get most try-only smokers hooked, so that what could have been simply a trial puff or even a social smoking can turn into an unbreakable habit. According to a study by University College of London researchers published in the journal Tobacco Control, if an 11-year old child smokes even just one cigarette, the urge to smoke stays within that child for three years, significantly raising his or her chances of becoming a regular smoker.
This finding is a cause for alarm. According to 2003 data from the US National Institutes of Health (US-NIH), the average age at first use among people 12 years and older is 15.4; among 12- to 17-year-olds, 12.3; and among 18- to 25-year-olds, 14.7. US-NIH adds that the younger a person starts smoking, the more likely he or she is to become addicted; and the more years he or she smokes, the greater are his or her risks of developing smoking-related diseases.
The Forbidden Stick
Oooooooopppppsssss... Sowi, you can read no further. He he he...
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Christmas break 2006
This week marks the end of my hectic schedule, as far as my studies are concerned. No, make that as far as attending classes is concerned. For while it’s true that my professors in all of my subjects decided to give us an early break, they gave us loads of assignment, all to be submitted on the first week of classes next month. Talk about starting the New Year with a bang.
And how about ending 2006 with a loud thump, too? It seems like my professors are in on a conspiracy to make our temporary separation as eventful as possible. How? By giving surprise examinations. My head is still spinning from the tests I went through last week, all of which unannounced. My head would have been empty by now, I having unloaded tons of my precious thoughts and logic onto my test papers, if only I could afford to be empty headed even just for a while. But as it is, I have to save some of my “brain matters” for our magazine pages, which I would be more than happy not to see for a while.
But either I have been a bad girl, or Santa isn’t real, that my simple wish of having a break — I mean, a real break — from both my studies and the magazine is not to be granted. This Christmas break, while I am writing the first chapter of my research in EDRE 231; my critique of Jean Jacques Rousseau’s “The Philosophy of Education” for EDFD 201; and my annotated bibliography, critique on three articles on language education, written report, and 250-item questions for EDL 251; I will also be editing and writing articles for the magazine, and figuring out how I can possibly make our February issue come out on time, despite the long vacation.
So it seems I won't be having any break this Christmas. That is, unless they have changed the definition of the word without me knowing it. Let me go and check.
And how about ending 2006 with a loud thump, too? It seems like my professors are in on a conspiracy to make our temporary separation as eventful as possible. How? By giving surprise examinations. My head is still spinning from the tests I went through last week, all of which unannounced. My head would have been empty by now, I having unloaded tons of my precious thoughts and logic onto my test papers, if only I could afford to be empty headed even just for a while. But as it is, I have to save some of my “brain matters” for our magazine pages, which I would be more than happy not to see for a while.
But either I have been a bad girl, or Santa isn’t real, that my simple wish of having a break — I mean, a real break — from both my studies and the magazine is not to be granted. This Christmas break, while I am writing the first chapter of my research in EDRE 231; my critique of Jean Jacques Rousseau’s “The Philosophy of Education” for EDFD 201; and my annotated bibliography, critique on three articles on language education, written report, and 250-item questions for EDL 251; I will also be editing and writing articles for the magazine, and figuring out how I can possibly make our February issue come out on time, despite the long vacation.
So it seems I won't be having any break this Christmas. That is, unless they have changed the definition of the word without me knowing it. Let me go and check.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
H&L Team on TV
My team and I watched the DVD copy of our TV guesting on November 24 upon my arrival in the office this morning. I don’t understand but it seems so kaloka watching yourself on the boob tube. My two writers who “guested” with me and I think that we looked and sounded so corny. Ms. Rina, an officemate who will start co-hosting the show next week, said I am telegenic. I think she’s wrong. However, I think I sounded nice, which is actually a surprise for me because I’ve always thought my voice is like a child’s.
Ah, never mind. We might have looked and sounded weird on the show, but TV guesting is one heck of an experience. We enjoyed it so much that when we were asked to go back, we replied, “Sige po, iyeskedyul n’yo lang.” That’s a far cry from our original response of “No way!” when the idea of us guesting on our TV program was first brought up.
//I wonder what my family would say when I bring home the DVD for them to watch this Christmas break, besides condemning me for not telling them I'd be on TV so they could have watched me live. Hmmmm...
Ah, never mind. We might have looked and sounded weird on the show, but TV guesting is one heck of an experience. We enjoyed it so much that when we were asked to go back, we replied, “Sige po, iyeskedyul n’yo lang.” That’s a far cry from our original response of “No way!” when the idea of us guesting on our TV program was first brought up.
//I wonder what my family would say when I bring home the DVD for them to watch this Christmas break, besides condemning me for not telling them I'd be on TV so they could have watched me live. Hmmmm...
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
The wall decor
“Jing, be careful that you don’t step on the décor,” mother warned, referring to the glass décor she laid on the floor about three meters from where I was playing. “It might break.”
“Ok mom.” I wondered if it would indeed break.
I resumed my playing. But soon, my curiosity as to whether the decor would indeed break if I stepped on it got over me, that I decided to find out if it was true. Making sure mom was still busy cleaning the walls, I sneaked into the décor and stepped onto it, half expecting to hear a cracking sound.
Nothing.
Mom’s lying! I told myself. It didn’t break!
I went back to playing. But then another thought troubled me. Was mom really lying? But why? What if I just did not step on it hard enough?
I went back to the décor to try it one more time.
I stepped onto the forbidden object. One foot first. Nothing happened.
Two feet.
CRRRRRAAAAAAAACCKKKK!
“Oh you! I told you not to go near it.” Mom shrieked.
“Sorry mom.” I said.
She didn’t know it wasn’t for the broken décor but for something else that I was apologizing.
“Ok mom.” I wondered if it would indeed break.
I resumed my playing. But soon, my curiosity as to whether the decor would indeed break if I stepped on it got over me, that I decided to find out if it was true. Making sure mom was still busy cleaning the walls, I sneaked into the décor and stepped onto it, half expecting to hear a cracking sound.
Nothing.
Mom’s lying! I told myself. It didn’t break!
I went back to playing. But then another thought troubled me. Was mom really lying? But why? What if I just did not step on it hard enough?
I went back to the décor to try it one more time.
I stepped onto the forbidden object. One foot first. Nothing happened.
Two feet.
CRRRRRAAAAAAAACCKKKK!
“Oh you! I told you not to go near it.” Mom shrieked.
“Sorry mom.” I said.
She didn’t know it wasn’t for the broken décor but for something else that I was apologizing.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Missing Tayns
Salve and I joked ab
out going places and doing stuff when Tayns has left. We joked about not missing her at all when she’s already in Japan, frying her brains figuring out the pro-forms of the Japanese language. But everything we said to this effect was just that — a joke.
Now, barely two months since she left, we are already missing her… the girl whose smile can brighten up a room.
It’s not easy when one of your best friends is miles away. Our only consolation is that she is there living her dream. It’s not everyday that you get bestowed with a scholarship… by the Japanese embassy, no less.
out going places and doing stuff when Tayns has left. We joked about not missing her at all when she’s already in Japan, frying her brains figuring out the pro-forms of the Japanese language. But everything we said to this effect was just that — a joke.Now, barely two months since she left, we are already missing her… the girl whose smile can brighten up a room.
It’s not easy when one of your best friends is miles away. Our only consolation is that she is there living her dream. It’s not everyday that you get bestowed with a scholarship… by the Japanese embassy, no less.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Makahiya… pretending
I touched the young makahiya (Mimosa pudica L) plant in my mom’s garden and, as expected, its leaves folded. Pleased like a child, I looked for other “victims” to touch. I saw three nearby, which I touched one after the other.
Again, I looked for some more, and there, near the potted peach euphorbia, were two makahiya sprouts. I moved closer and laid my killer touch upon them.
Neither budged. My brows creased. Puzzled, I looked closer. As I examined them I realized they weren’t really makahiya plants… just pretending.
Disappointed, I uprooted the “imposters,” thinking to myself that some people are like those con makahiyas; they are so good at pretending they seem real. So much so that it often needs cunning and takes some time before one can figure their game.
Ah. Why can’t some people just be themselves? Why do they need to pretend to be who they are not?
Again, I looked for some more, and there, near the potted peach euphorbia, were two makahiya sprouts. I moved closer and laid my killer touch upon them.
Neither budged. My brows creased. Puzzled, I looked closer. As I examined them I realized they weren’t really makahiya plants… just pretending.
Disappointed, I uprooted the “imposters,” thinking to myself that some people are like those con makahiyas; they are so good at pretending they seem real. So much so that it often needs cunning and takes some time before one can figure their game.
Ah. Why can’t some people just be themselves? Why do they need to pretend to be who they are not?
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