We had our first general rehearsal this morning.  For the dinner performance next Friday.  I have a solo number called the Peacock Dance. 

I have been dancing this particular dance for almost 20 years.  Add to that other shows: ballet, flamenco, modern and Chinese dances.  I have been performing onstage on and off for more than 30 years.  I should be comfortable with this. 

But no, as I waited for my turn this morning, I could hear my heart thumping loudly.  My hands were cool and I had to control slight tremors in my hand.  Some butterflies in the tummy.  And this wasn’t even the real dress rehearsal.  Just the blocking and the order and checking the flow of the show.

O said he read somewhere that the minute you lose the jitters before a particular dance, is the time when you retire that dance.  It simply means that it has become rote and loses its passion.  That’s a nice explanation.

His Time

A friend was killed in a motorcycle accident yesterday afternoon.  It was a surreal moment when O told me.  O was part of the riding group yesterday but he came home before lunch and did not join the group as they continued on to a further ride in the afternoon when the accident occurred.

I could feel O very affected with the news.  He was alternately pensive and troubled.

The riding group was shaken.  But everyone agreed that friend died doing what he loved most.  Ironic that the thing that gave his life much joy and happiness was the thing that would take his life away.  Friend loved speed.  And many had advised him to slow down.  He would always reply:  If I can’t go fast, I might as well stay at home.  

I guess it was his time.  The accident happened on a flat straight road.  Mikey who was behind him described what he saw:  He said he saw the motorcycle wobble a bit and then friend just fell down.  Skidded and hit the road marker across the road.

There were no other road obstructions.  There were no incoming traffic.  No cliff to plunge over.  He was wearing protective gear.  Everything would’ve been ok except for that 6 inches (15cm) in diameter solid cement road marker (probably with a bar inside) that informs motorists how far the next town is and to mark each kilometer.  Imagine, hitting that marker with your head while falling off a motorcycle traveling around 100kph.  It was his time.

The helmet couldn’t help him.  They say death was instantaneous.

Allowing Freedom

I wrote this post several years back, at a time when I thought about my life a lot.  It is good to know that despite what I discovered about myself during those times of introspection, I realized that I love my life as is.

Do not give freedom to anyone if you do not want them to change.  It is always a risk.  To allow a person the space to grow, to do whatever he likes – there will always be a chance that that person will grow in directions which you might not like, in direction counter to your beliefs.

There is no guarantee that if you let a person run free, that he will be grateful to you and that he will not do anything to cause you pain.  It is not cut-and-dried.

Be careful in not imposing what you want on another person because then that person might realize that after he has experienced much much more, he might realize that his place is not with you.

If you are not willing to risk losing this person, then do not give him freedom to do as he wishes.  


Do Nothing

Tonight I’m not going to do anything. *Bruno Mars*

Yup, no bring home work.  No planning for our vacation.  No practice for the dance presentation in 3 weeks time.  Tonight, I will facebook and wordpress and read tabloid stories about the French prime minister, Prince Harry’s girlfriend, Loki and other mindless stuff.


Was There Any Doubt?

The results to the entrance exam of my alma mater came out today.  Eldest son reminded me.  He asked me to check the results online.  I was fairly confident he would get in but of course I didn’t want to be too confident.  There is always the possibility he would not get in.  I was not that concerned as I logged on to the university website.

And then I type his name and his name did not come out!  What?  Sorry, the name can not be found.  He may not have been accepted or the name was typed wrongly – to paraphrase the message onscreen.  What?  My brain could not accept what it was seeing.  I typed his name again, leaving out the space between his two given names.  Still nothing.  I left out his first name and typed just the second name.  Nothing.  I type his friend’s name – his friend’s name comes up with the notation “Waitlisted”.  I type his cousin’s name – nothing.  I note that the list is unofficial.  I take comfort in that.  I think that maybe they haven’t uploaded up to our surname yet.

I type his name again.  Still nothing.  I was starting to feel bad.  There’s this tightness in my chest.  A general malaise was starting to come over me.  I held on to the hope that the list was unofficial.

I got to the office and started to forget my depression as I faced work.  But after I finished what needed to be done, I started wondering again.  I logged on and started searching other sites.  I found one that had a photo of the actual paper list of successful applicants  posted in the school campus.  I view the slideshow.  My goodness that was an agonizing hour as I kept on refreshing the page to get to our surname.

And finally I find his name.  Eldest son is in!  Accepted.  I was so happy.  I immediately texted my friends.  I couldn’t stop smiling.

The funny thing is, eldest son probably isn’t going to be as happy as I am.  I have this feeling that he is just so-so with this particular university.  It is mother dear who wants him there.  Oh well, that is my privilege as mother  🙂

Back to the hills I will go this June, to help him prepare his dorm room.  Oh happy day!

As to the title?  O had none.  He knew eldest son would be accepted.  I am more realistic.  Practical maybe.

The Public Image

I created a new account at Facebook; where I used my legal name.  The one I’ve had for sometime now has me using only hubby’s surname.  Hubby’s surname is quite common while my maiden name is more unique.  Though both pages will be accessible to the public, I am thinking that I need also to monitor my public image, thus the new account.

Already my new account has had some friend requests from people I don’t personally know.  And no mutual friends between these requesters and me.  I figure they came across my name in some article or maybe even corporate documents – they might google to find more about me; might as well manage what they find out.

So my new account will only have decent and flattering photos of myself and lists my education and business as well as social affiliations.  I might need to say a little bit about my personal likes – people like reading about that.  Makes another be more human.  The new account will be consciously managed for information.    

The other one where I am a bit anonymous, only lists me as married.  Although there is not much facts listed there, that is where I communicate with good friends and former classmates.  They don’t need to know my education or where I live.  That which binds us are not these sort of details.  It is enough to note that I am married.  I see no need to share more.  No hometown, no birthday, no education, no affiliations, no likes nor preferences and definitely no photos of families.  Some photos of me and O, together.  There is a link to my wordpress blog but so far, people at FB are not that keen in reading my blogs.  For which I am a bit thankful. 

I am more vulnerable here.  I share my thoughts, my frustrations, my happiness, some of my devious plans and other insights in my blog.  It’s funny that I find it more comfortable sharing such thoughts with people I have never met rather than with cousins or former classmates.

But back to my new account, I am still mapping out the data that I will tack on to my name.  I have not noted my civil status there.  I wonder if I need to put in a photo of the husband?  Ponder ponder.  Definitely none of the boys.

This will be fun.  

I may not be a celebrity but it still is necessary to manage information about one’s self.