Caustic Thoughts

Random funny thoughts with a taste of Pinoy and a hint of acid.

Perspective

A Measure of Self Determination

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There are some things that grow on me and that I cherish almost fondly like stretch marks and sunny days. Then there are things I just can’t stand like hemorrhoids and carbon monoxide.

For five years, I have had the enduring desire to buy or rent a place of my own for my family. That would mean my husband, kids and I would have to leave my in-laws. I have been called selfish, thoughtless and proud not by my in-laws but by an indirect, faceless voice.

Is it selfish to want to have some measure of self determination? Am I proud for wanting to be able to chart my own course, raise my kids my way and exist as an independent being?

My parents raised me to be extremely independent and they had a feeling I wouldn’t survive living in someone else’s kingdom. I never really understood what they were saying. It seems I had to shower under truckloads of poop to get the point. Now I hear them clearer over the noise of falling shit.

I am Not a Princess

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My daughter placed a large Rubik’s Cube underneath my pillow last night. Perhaps she’d been thinking that the tooth fairy would be amenable to a substitute. Not only did I not feel it, I also slept straight for seven hours and woke up without a stiff neck. That simply proves that I am definitely not a princess and that I had not been accidentally placed in the wrong crib after birth.

It is quite possible though that I really am secretly a princess but I was unable to feel the large lump underneath my emaciated pillow because too much writing had robbed me of my energy, wit and sensitivity. I have therefore resolved to take a one week break from blogging until I can collect my scattered wits, refill my fat-deprives cells and feel the Rubik’s Cube underneath my pillow.
I shall be back next week, alive, alert, awake, enthusiastic… really!

Bird Training

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There are a lot of important circumstances to direct our attentions to such as climate change, poverty, hunger, terrorism and talks of a Dela Hoya-Pacquiao bout. I however, have chosen to postpone sitting under some tree of enlightenment to attempt to find a solution to these weighty matters so I can focus on animal welfare, that is, one animal’s welfare.

I had no choice. They had to cut down a coconut tree that had been showering its bountiful blessings on the roof of a long suffering neighbor. I was in my work station fabricating more lies for the online community in behalf of a client when my toddler showed up by my window all sweaty and dirty holding up what appeared to be a bird’s nest from the tree. I knew at that point that I had a responsibility to refrain from spitting unholy words at the sight of the little creature I had to clean up and to save the other little creature that had just been abandoned by its mother in the house of twigs (Excuse me for using “IT.” I have no idea if the bird is male or female).
It is true that birds and animals don’t think or feel in the same elevated levels as humans do but I don’t think that justifies leaving the baby bird at the mercy of a toddler who hasn’t yet mastered the finer points of motor control. It occurred to me that if I were the one lost and afraid and a baby alien with superior intellect came by and found me, I wouldn’t appreciate it if he squished the life out of me simply because I hadn’t mastered calculus or grasped the meaning of life. 
In short, I have adopted the bird until it can fly off on its own. My husband says this bird belongs to a species that is capable of committing suicide in moments of distress. The fact that it hasn’t stuck its legs up yet is an indication that it must be happy and healthy.
My problem is that it has grown too happy. It is not kept in a cage and pecks and poops where it will. It has no desire to live outside in the little makeshift condo we made for it and it has no skill whatsoever when it comes to scavenging. It flies towards people, toddlers, cats and chickens rather than away from them and I swear, if it had a longer tongue, it would stick it out and lick my face. I want the bird to fly away because it is supposed to and because I do not like the idea of collecting generous amounts of poop and mediating between the bird and a kid with a firm grip. 
If you have suggestions on how to teach the bird that I am not its mother, that cats are not its friends and that it should live in a tree, please feel free to help me out.

Caution: Watch Your Head

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I was in the mall yesterday when a store sign caught my attention. It said, “Caution: watch your head.” Is it just me or do you find that funny too?

I remember a few years back when my husband was looking through clear glass at a store display. He did embarrassingly hit his head on the display window. I thought it was an isolated case. I didn’t know that a lot of people actually go through the same experience so frequently that it has pushed a store to put up a warning sign. That either says a lot about the cleaning abilities of store employees or the temporary lack of attentiveness that can sometimes afflict both geniuses and—er—the rest of us. At least geniuses have an excuse.

I wonder if window bumping is a worldwide phenomenon or happens only in the Philippines.

(Note: I do apologize for the picture which was taken with a cheap camera which partly explains the picture’s cheap quality. Well, to be honest, I was also scared of the roving mall guards who could’ve mistaken me for a loony and could’ve taken me into custody. So the picture was taken at a saaaaafe distance.)