Who am I?

S vintage star
S filipina now living in california
S obsessive-compulsive... make that compulsive-obsessive... no, obsessive-compulsive
S cold all the time (literally)

current terror alert level
Terror Alert Level

Why is Life Cold?

i actually have a very happy life. i just saw this graphic one day and got an inspiration for another blog. why not write about the stuff that makes life cold? from the huge, catastrophic, life-altering events to the seemingly trivial, little incidents that rub you the wrong way. it doesn't have to be a personal experience, it can be something observed.

on writing these down, my intent is to learn to appreciate life more and have a better handle on things when life throws you a curve ball. i want whoever will read this to contemplate, not get depressed. hopefully, you'll share with me your experiences as well so we can learn from each other.

p.s. it doesn't always have to be cold

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Where I Go When I Feel Life Getting Cold

S Memento
S Jo's Forum
S Shai Coggins
S pinayexpat
S joyceline
S piehole (a very funny girl)
S Din's World
S pinayhekmi chronicles
S Linnor
S Tin
S kwentong tambay
S deja brew
S denden
S mushings
S Junkville (never fails)


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A Vintage Star

A few weeks back I chanced upon the photoblog of a good friend from high school. He's actually the one who inspired me to start blogging again and start a photoblog of my own (coming soon!). He's one of the funniest people I know, the makes-you-think funny as opposed to just-plain-silly funny. He is very smart and creative and his photoblog just confirms this fact. Even when we were little, I have always known that he's bound for great things. But now, I see that his spiritual growth and the love of a wonderful family have beautifully complemented his great intellect, molding him into a brilliantly outstanding human being. And he's still funny.

As I got back in touch with him and caught up on things, I suddenly find myself reminiscing the good old times (and yes, no matter how unpopular or angst-ridden you were, those were the good old times) and thinking about my old friends. I'm talking about the friends I made in school, and some during the early days of my career. I've made the realization a few years ago that these friends are whom I consider my closest and greatest friends, the ones I have been most joyful with. It could be attributed to my youth, or the fact that I moved to a different country with a different culture, but I just can't seem to have the same quality of friendships that I used to have growing up. I probably have more friends I regularly see now than before, but I would give a year's salary to spend quality time with the Seven Dwarfs (or Dwarves, we never did settle that argument), the Ongers, Senior-E, TTT, GWOSA, the Cybernet posse, and the CyberGumps. Yes, I was always with a group that was so cheesy it had a name. We probably won't have a banner with our name on it but we will still have the best time.

When I went back to the Philippines last January, I did have a reunion with most of Senior-E and that was one of the best times I've had in a long time. I don't remember the last time I've laughed so hard I peed my pants a little. Of course everyone had grown-up, most have their own families, but in my eyes they were still the same girls I giggled with, the same boys who copied my homework. Parting with them, I just reassure myself with the fact that technology has indeed made this world smaller and that they are just an email or text message away.

So I come back home to my current friends - a few neighbors, the wives of my husband's friends, friends from work whom I lunch with, the moms of my stepson's friends. And then there's my husband, who, despite not growing up with me, not being there in my formative years, and not being familiar with the culture I've assimilated in, has taken on the role of my best friend. Maybe I already have all the deep friendship I need...

Do you find yourself missing your old friends and wishing you could be with them again?

Vangie Fuhrman got cold on 7.17.2004 7:55 PM. |

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