Every one of us, consciously or unconsciously, affects the
objects and people around us, including ourselves, on a continual basis. Think
about the expression 'laughter is contagious.' Well, sure it is! How do you feel when you
are around happy, laughing people? Usually, you cant help but feel good
yourself right?. All emotions are energy and energy passes from one body to another;
from one object to another; matter to matter. Laughter is contagious!
You clear your house of negative energies and replace them
with positive ones. Laugh once in a while. Promise. It'll help. :)
For my younger bro.. all the love!
got a my 3rd tattoo. (On my upper left back: Philippians 4:13 "All things through Christ")
got an A in systemic physiology and microbiology and rasied my gpa to 3.877! i'm like 0.30 away from being in the president's list. (not to mention getting the car back from my sister.. and I'm getting tired being always in the honor roll anyways.. kidding!!!! that was sarcastic.)
I finally saw the Queen's buggy past birmingham road towards buckingham!!!
--
My apologies, It has been a really long time since I've sounded this blog. Much University work has been on its toll and working part-time at the shop has been keeping me really away from the computer these days. I finally get to cut a slack at this not so-much-two-week-rest before winter trimester starts.
So it is like a less than a week before Christimas day and it is freaaaaking chilly over here. Last time I checked it is about -2 C in midwest London. Goodness! It is about 4 C here in portsmouth and I really have to wear praka sweats and trijackets as I really do bad on the cold.
Anyway, just want to share a really nice family moment that happened during thanksgiving last month
Remember when you were growing up and your mom made a cake from scratch? The best part of the whole process wasn't the cake or even the icing. It was licking the bowl.
It's the simplest of pleasures sometimes that mean the most.
My sister and I used to take turns between licking the beaters and the bowl. If one got the bowl, the other got the beaters. The next time it switched. Chocolate cakes, pound cakes, lemon cakes. It didn't matter. Any cake batter would do.
So when my sister made a cake this past Thanksgiving, she was excited to let our cousin's sons to lick the bowl. She is by the way, not the greatest cook in the world, yes, she's a nurse, but unfortunately she can kick-judo my ass any day.
So the kids are four and six, that perfect age where the world is always right and licking sweet cake batter from a bowl is as good as it gets.
Andrew, the youngest, was in the kitchen when ate handed him the mixing bowl she'd just used to make a pumpkin cake. "You wanna lick the bowl?" she asked.
The bowl was bigger than Andrew's head and he held it with both of his tiny hands, looking up at my sister as if she'd spoken Greek. (The boy's mother, my cousin, is a chef and she later confessed that she always lets the boys lick the beaters. So licking the bowl itself was a foreign concept. It's my secret belief that she keeps the bowl for herself but she'll never admit to it.)
After Andrew stared at my sister for a few seconds, confusion clouding his face, she taught him how to lick the bowl: "Run your finger along the inside of the bowl, gathering as much of the cake goo as you can hold, then lick your finger. Repeat until clean"
Andrew understood immediately. In fact, he'd taken a few big swipes and sucked his finger clean before my mom told him to go share with his brother. Andrew's eyes lit up and he bounded off yelling Matty's name.
Andrew loves to share with Matty. I give that habit two more years.
My sister followed behind a little while later, just to make sure Andrew didn't find a nice quiet cubbyhole to get lost in. He is four after all.
She found them in the bathroom (of all places!) Andrew was standing patiently awaiting his turn as Matty licked the bowl. Literally.
My sister stood in the doorway, hand covering her smile, and watched as Matty grasped the mixing bowl with both hands and lifted it to his face. He bobbed his head up and down, in and out, as he "licked the bowl."
"Matty," ate said, trying not to laugh out loud.
Matty raised his face and looked at my mom with his big brown eyes. His nose and chin were spotted with cake batter. There was some in his hair. It was the Kodak moment of all time.
It was really cute.
There's a certain innocence and joy in the smallest of activities, from snuggling under the covers on a cold winter night to eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with marshmallows to sucking in the fragrance of a thicket of honeysuckles. And sometimes it takes a child's perspective to remind us that there's more than one way to lick the bowl of life.
Merry Christmas!
disclaimer
Spelling error and poor grammar in this blog are the product of a poor school system.
This blog is intended for the use of the individual
user named above and may contain information that is
confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive
persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational
religious beliefs. My opinions are neither copyrighted nor trademarked,
and it's price competitive. If you like, I'll trade for one of yours.
None of the ideas expressed in this blog are actually mine, they are told to me
by Luthor and Ferdinand, the five inch tall space aliens who live under my
desk. In return for these ideas, I have given them permission to eat any dust
bunnies they may find under there. The rants written herein do not conform to
my views or to any accepted standard of logic that the Greeks thought up.
Unless the word 'absquatulation' has been used in its correct context somewhere
other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or grammatical use
and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the transmission of this blog,
although the golden retriever next door is living on borrowed time. Those of
you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that
there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards,
so just ignore that Alert Notice from the conscience behind your head. If
you have come to this blog in error, please add some nutmeg and egg whites
and place it in a warm oven for 40 minutes. Whisk briefly and let it stand
for 2 hours before icing.
Have fun! :)
all the love,
jesma
Friday, December 19, 2008
Merry Christmas!
updates:
got a my 3rd tattoo. (On my upper left back: Philippians 4:13 "All things through Christ")
got an A in systemic physiology and microbiology and rasied my gpa to 3.877! i'm like 0.30 away from being in the president's list. (not to mention getting the car back from my sister.. and I'm getting tired being always in the honor roll anyways.. kidding!!!! that was sarcastic.)
I finally saw the Queen's buggy past birmingham road towards buckingham!!!
--
My apologies, It has been a really long time since I've sounded this blog. Much University work has been on its toll and working part-time at the shop has been keeping me really away from the computer these days. I finally get to cut a slack at this not so-much-two-week-rest before winter trimester starts.
So it is like a less than a week before Christimas day and it is freaaaaking chilly over here. Last time I checked it is about -2 C in midwest London. Goodness! It is about 4 C here in portsmouth and I really have to wear praka sweats and trijackets as I really do bad on the cold.
Anyway, just want to share a really nice family moment that happened during thanksgiving last month
Remember when you were growing up and your mom made a cake from scratch? The best part of the whole process wasn't the cake or even the icing. It was licking the bowl.
It's the simplest of pleasures sometimes that mean the most.
My sister and I used to take turns between licking the beaters and the bowl. If one got the bowl, the other got the beaters. The next time it switched. Chocolate cakes, pound cakes, lemon cakes. It didn't matter. Any cake batter would do.
So when my sister made a cake this past Thanksgiving, she was excited to let our cousin's sons to lick the bowl. She is by the way, not the greatest cook in the world, yes, she's a nurse, but unfortunately she can kick-judo my ass any day.
So the kids are four and six, that perfect age where the world is always right and licking sweet cake batter from a bowl is as good as it gets.
Andrew, the youngest, was in the kitchen when ate handed him the mixing bowl she'd just used to make a pumpkin cake. "You wanna lick the bowl?" she asked.
The bowl was bigger than Andrew's head and he held it with both of his tiny hands, looking up at my sister as if she'd spoken Greek. (The boy's mother, my cousin, is a chef and she later confessed that she always lets the boys lick the beaters. So licking the bowl itself was a foreign concept. It's my secret belief that she keeps the bowl for herself but she'll never admit to it.)
After Andrew stared at my sister for a few seconds, confusion clouding his face, she taught him how to lick the bowl: "Run your finger along the inside of the bowl, gathering as much of the cake goo as you can hold, then lick your finger. Repeat until clean"
Andrew understood immediately. In fact, he'd taken a few big swipes and sucked his finger clean before my mom told him to go share with his brother. Andrew's eyes lit up and he bounded off yelling Matty's name.
Andrew loves to share with Matty. I give that habit two more years.
My sister followed behind a little while later, just to make sure Andrew didn't find a nice quiet cubbyhole to get lost in. He is four after all.
She found them in the bathroom (of all places!) Andrew was standing patiently awaiting his turn as Matty licked the bowl. Literally.
My sister stood in the doorway, hand covering her smile, and watched as Matty grasped the mixing bowl with both hands and lifted it to his face. He bobbed his head up and down, in and out, as he "licked the bowl."
"Matty," ate said, trying not to laugh out loud.
Matty raised his face and looked at my mom with his big brown eyes. His nose and chin were spotted with cake batter. There was some in his hair. It was the Kodak moment of all time.
It was really cute.
There's a certain innocence and joy in the smallest of activities, from snuggling under the covers on a cold winter night to eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with marshmallows to sucking in the fragrance of a thicket of honeysuckles. And sometimes it takes a child's perspective to remind us that there's more than one way to lick the bowl of life.
Merry Christmas!
c
"Not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter"
-Friedrich Nietzche
it has been crazy five years full of cracky, non-sense and whimsical humor blogging.
what started out as a "for-profit" racket of a graduating elementary student (which he really
didn't need) turned out to be one of his hidden passions -- writing. truly, writing is the world's
most favorite metaphor, and sharing it, broadens the adventure to begin with. rudyard kipling once
qouted, "words are the most powerful drug used by mankind" if that was so, i am due for rehabiliatation
just to get over with the addiction. the pen is the tongue of the mind so let your mind speak, and write it
down; for words are so many things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces
that which makes thousands, perhaps millions.
theverybestofjessiemaria[dot]com, jesma's current and 4th blog, and possibly his last will be a hopefully
collection of his best hits since he started blogging in 2003. a frustrated novelist, he is currently studying
in Portsmouth, UK, struggling through his first year at University as a Eng'g Physics Nursing major. He
hopes to find some success in writing so as to soften the blow when telling his parents how much he is flunking
the course they would be funding for the next five years.
As a seasoned interweb dork, Jesma's diet consists mostly of a steady supply of energy drinks and
Cool Ranch Doritos. Because of this, Jesma must supplement his diet with a steady source of positive
feedback in order to survive. You can contribute to Jesma's continued existence by either leaving a
comment or by sending him an email at rossiyskaya_federatsiya@yahoo.com
an essay to the ateneo de manila's admissions personal essay requirement. the question was:
Are there any siginificant accomplishments you have realized, that helped defined you as a person?
-- I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train
stations on my free time, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic
slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.
Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone
playing. I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook 30-minute brownies in
20 minutes.
I am an expert in snakes n' ladders, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass
of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon basin from a horde of ferocious
army ants. I play bluegrass cello. I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries.
When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays,
after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend
passes. Last summer I toured around the whole world traveling with centrifugal force demonstration. My
deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise lost, Moby Dick,
and The Odeyssey in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the
exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA.
I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated
with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate
in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life, but forgot to write it down. I have made
extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.
I breed prize-winning dandelions. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka,
and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played with Cirque du Soleil, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken
with Elvis.
