"Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah. It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you." -Rumi
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AIM IM with BBanzon.
9:15 AM
Me: dad its krystal i have internet now
Dad: horay for you how you doing girl?
Me: gooooood im going to work this afternoon, and my cousins kim and maaan are here. they stayed with me this weekend
Dad: great keep you in company be sure to take care your self carefully be vigilant hope all things going swell
Me: i will be vigilant and careful – going to eat now, i love you!!!
Dad: we miss you so much and j.r. oke I love
Me: bye bye talk to u later!!
Dad: goodnight bona petit
Two reasons why I love my Dad:
1) “Be vigilant.”
I love it. Talking to my dad is like talking to a mid-century English man… Who has a deep Filipino accent.
2) His attempt at colloquialisms like, “swell” and “bon appetit.”
In one sentence the man sounds like Sherlock Holmes and in the next he sounds like Julia Child.
I can’t even imagine the amalgamated morass of pop culture and American multiculturalism that he has absorbed over his 30+ years in the American “melting pot.”
This morning on the phone, my Dad said to me, “As long as you are enjoying life and having fun we’re happy.” Then I hear my Mom exclaim, “Fun!?” before snatching the phone back and saying, “Your Dad is still asleep. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
We share a laugh about my artistic sloth. Nothing like moving out, living my own life, and doing what I want to strengthen the relationship I have my parents. I’m a lucky gal.
AIM IM with BBanzon.
9:15 AM
Me: dad its krystal i have internet now
Dad: horay for you how you doing girl?
Me: gooooood im going to work this afternoon, and my cousins kim and maaan are here. they stayed with me this weekend
Dad: great keep you in company be sure to take care your self carefully be vigilant hope all things going swell
Me: i will be vigilant and careful – going to eat now, i love you!!!
Dad: we miss you so much and j.r. oke I love
Me: bye bye talk to u later!!
Dad: goodnight bona petit
Two reasons why I love my Dad:
1) “Be vigilant.”
I love it. Talking to my dad is like talking to a mid-century English man… Who has a deep Filipino accent.
2) His attempt at colloquialisms like, “swell” and “bon appetit.”
In one sentence the man sounds like Sherlock Holmes and in the next he sounds like Julia Child.
I can’t even imagine the amalgamated morass of pop culture and American multiculturalism that he has absorbed over his 30+ years in the American “melting pot.”
This morning on the phone, my Dad said to me, “As long as you are enjoying life and having fun we’re happy.” Then I hear my Mom exclaim, “Fun!?” before snatching the phone back and saying, “Your Dad is still asleep. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
We share a laugh about my artistic sloth. Nothing like moving out, living my own life, and doing what I want to strengthen the relationship I have my parents. I’m a lucky gal.
My parents attended a wedding of some distant relatives a few weeks ago up in Santa Barbara. The wedding was held on the beautiful California coast, at a classy, upscale hotel. From what was described to me, it was one of those picturesque perfect nuptials – a well-funded dream wedding, glossy magazine pristine.
My father was outraged.
The next morning, I’m sitting at the dining room table munching on rice and meat, watching I Love Lucy. My father is rambling on loudly about the expenses incurred in the planning and execution of this picture-perfect wedding. My father rambles on about a lot of things on a day-to-day basis, so this isn’t unusual or cutting into my concentration on Lucy Ricardo’s first attempt at babysitting.
“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS, my girl! Ay, can you imagine?! One hundred thousand dollars for a wedding!” He laughs in disbelief, pacing next to the table.
I am reluctant to engage with him. This conversation could go in a bunch of different directions – and with my smart-ass mouth, those are potentially bad directions:
Scenario 1:
Me: “Don’t worry, Dad, I’m not ever getting married.”
Dad: “Ever? Why?”
Me: “Because I’m a big DYKE!”
Scenario 2:
Me: “Marriage is a stupid, patriarchal institution. I don’t believe in marriage.”
Dad: “You don’t believe in marriage? Then your child is going to be a bastard!”
So, I humor him, and in between bites of fried rice I say, “Yeah, weddings are expensive nowadays.”
“One hundred thousand dollars, girl! That’s five million Philippine pesos!”
I grunt an impressed grunt and continue to chew while Ricky Ricardo reprimands Lucy for buying a new hat. Irritated that women are always made out to be shopping-hungry spendthrifts.
“Can you imagine all that money!”
If Lucy Ricardo were financially independent she wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation.
“Five million pesos, girlie!”
Oooh, Lucy gonna fuck Ethel!
“If that were me, I would have sent that money to Darfur to help those people there!”
I wasn’t sure if I heard correctly. All thoughts of Lucy-fucking-black-and-white-50’s-kama-sutra gone, I say, “What, Daddy?”
“With that money we could have built a clinic in the Philippines where people can go for free! So much money, girl, for that wedding in the five-star hotel!
I wouldn’t have done that. No sir, if that were me, girlie.”
My parents attended a wedding of some distant relatives a few weeks ago up in Santa Barbara. The wedding was held on the beautiful California coast, at a classy, upscale hotel. From what was described to me, it was one of those picturesque perfect nuptials – a well-funded dream wedding, glossy magazine pristine.
My father was outraged.
The next morning, I’m sitting at the dining room table munching on rice and meat, watching I Love Lucy. My father is rambling on loudly about the expenses incurred in the planning and execution of this picture-perfect wedding. My father rambles on about a lot of things on a day-to-day basis, so this isn’t unusual or cutting into my concentration on Lucy Ricardo’s first attempt at babysitting.
“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS, my girl! Ay, can you imagine?! One hundred thousand dollars for a wedding!” He laughs in disbelief, pacing next to the table.
I am reluctant to engage with him. This conversation could go in a bunch of different directions – and with my smart-ass mouth, those are potentially bad directions:
Scenario 1:
Me: “Don’t worry, Dad, I’m not ever getting married.”
Dad: “Ever? Why?”
Me: “Because I’m a big DYKE!”
Scenario 2:
Me: “Marriage is a stupid, patriarchal institution. I don’t believe in marriage.”
Dad: “You don’t believe in marriage? Then your child is going to be a bastard!”
So, I humor him, and in between bites of fried rice I say, “Yeah, weddings are expensive nowadays.”
“One hundred thousand dollars, girl! That’s five million Philippine pesos!”
I grunt an impressed grunt and continue to chew while Ricky Ricardo reprimands Lucy for buying a new hat. Irritated that women are always made out to be shopping-hungry spendthrifts.
“Can you imagine all that money!”
If Lucy Ricardo were financially independent she wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation.
“Five million pesos, girlie!”
Oooh, Lucy gonna fuck Ethel!
“If that were me, I would have sent that money to Darfur to help those people there!”
I wasn’t sure if I heard correctly. All thoughts of Lucy-fucking-black-and-white-50’s-kama-sutra gone, I say, “What, Daddy?”
“With that money we could have built a clinic in the Philippines where people can go for free! So much money, girl, for that wedding in the five-star hotel!
I wouldn’t have done that. No sir, if that were me, girlie.”