He Chose Us

He will turn five this coming month. I don't exactly know which day. All I know is when we got him in September 1, 2001, he was about three months old. Figaro, my Senegal Parrot, was a surprise from Hubby who knew I missed having feathered friends. I once had Sydney, an African Lovebird; Chippy, a blue English Budgie; and Pepper, an Australian Cockatiel. They were hand-fed and raised from when they were still a bit bald and ugly.

Anyway, that September day, we drove up from Florida to Massachusetts. To my surprise, instead of taking the usual route, Hubby took Interstate 91, claiming it was the faster way to get to Boston. I thought that maybe he just wanted to try the scenic route since we were in no hurry. He continually urged me to get some rest and sleep, and I felt something was up. I was right. After driving around like we were lost, he entered a residential area, parked in front of a house and happily exclaimed, "We're here to pick up your baby!" It was the house of the parrot breeder I had corresponded with a few months before. Hubby and I had disagreed on the timing of getting one so I had shelved my plans to get one indefinitely. Apparently, he had asked the breeder to let him know when the next batch of hatchlings would be weaned. By then, she had three chicks that were just weaned so she showed us the three so we could make a choice.

We handled each of them, one by one, but Figaro stood out. Figaro had been taking a bath, so he was wet and funny-looking. He perched on Hubby's finger and just stared at him. He eyed Hubby quietly, cocking his head in wonder as he was spoken to - instant connection. My turn to hold him came and he perched on my hand contentedly as I stroked his head. He then put his beak on my cheek, went to sleep, purring happily, in complete trust. The choice was taken out of our hands. Figaro had chosen us.

That was five years ago. Almost everyday since then, we wake up in the morning to "Figaro! Figaro! Feed Figaro!", the reminder for his morning feeding. He says bye when we leave, and welcomes us home with a "Hi!" or "Hello!" He loves walking around the place. His ultimate destination though are always our shoulders. That's where he is happiest. He stays there for as long as we allow him, preening himself, and us.

A Late Bloomer

Back in high school, while all my girlfriends' bodies were slowly getting hefty at the right places, I was still a scrawny, little shrimp. I was short, thin and unladylike - Neneng nene! Definitely not ligawin like my friends, I was more of a buddy to the guys and often acted as their go-between to the girls. I was happy to help whenever I could and loved playing Cupid. But like any girl my age, I too had my crushes. Of course, the boys that I liked never gave me a second look. The very few that did like me never made a move because, let's face it - in high school, everything was about appearance and I wasn't really considered a catch. My singing voice was considered pretty, but not me.

By the end of my junior year, I was starting to get a little more attention from some guys. I wasn't used to it though. All those years that boys ogled my pretty friends I had spent daydreaming and creating in my mind my idea of how my knight in shining armor should be. Come the time I had a few of my own suitors, I really didn't know how to handle it and turned finicky. There was always an aspect or another that disappointed me. So as my girlfriends were going through the thrill of courtships and the heartache of breakups, I was the only one whose heart was yet unscathed.

I may have felt left out of the action then but now I am thankful that I was a late bloomer. I saw friends go through stuff that I probably wouldn't have handled well then. Later on in life, when problems did come, I was a little better equipped.

Oh, and of the boys whom I obssessed over but paid me no notice? I bumped into some of them through the years. Let's just say that our tastes do change and I'm glad that mine has done so for the better. I don't know what the heck I was thinking then! lol

Bulag-a Item

It's a good thing I wasn't eating breakfast when I chatted with someone very dear to me online this morning. I probably would have choked on it if I was.

He said he was in love. Now, that fact didn't surprise me as he has always been in love with eros. It was who he was in love with that did. He dropped the name of a famous actress back home known for her beauty, as well as her extremely cantankerous image. When I managed to pick up my jaw from the ground, I joked that he better behave himself as he would not want to be in this lady's warpath, lest he suffer a fate similar to John Wayne Bobbit. He revealed to me that this lady's private persona is the total opposite of her public image. She is apparently very sweet, humble and kind. Either those are words from a man that's very much in love, or she really is the way he claims she is.

By the end of our conversation, he had me pretty convinced what a sweetheart she really is that I was reminding him to make sure he deserves and reciprocates the treatment she gives him. Life...it can get pretty darn funny at times.

*Sigh*

Back from the Offsite

It all paid off - the hard work, the prayers, the endless rehearsals in my mind. The division offsite that I had been preparing for the last couple of months has come and gone. I hardly slept, was on my feet all day to make sure that everything happened seamlessly. Considering all the feedback, everyone thinks it was an unqualified success. It appears that no one noticed that I was running around like a headless chicken, putting out tiny fires. And that's how I would have wanted it anyway.

I've gotten congratulations and back slaps from all over. But there was one compliment that stood out from among the rest. A top executive approached me right after the last meeting, held me by the shoulders and said, "I wish I could clone you and send you off to the different divisions!" Embarrassed, I said my thanks and joked that I would do it for a fee. But I didn't feel the floor as I walked away and for a long time after that.

It's my fourth day at home and I'm still recovering from it. I don't know if it's because I lack exercise or I'm just getting old. It's taking me longer to recover from hectic trips, whether business or pleasure. Thus, it's taken me this long to post something here. I've had a lot of little things flit through my mind to write about, but this is as coherent as I can get right now - especially right after having to tackle something as mind-numbing as our taxes. Ugh...and I don't want to get started on that...