Serendipity
Smoky eyes, lemon pie
Four days into my self-imposed holiday and I'm bored out of my skull. In between watching Jamie Oliver and Giada De Laurentiis, there's really nothing much to do but cook. So far, I've whipped up a mean zitti with sausage, basil, and tomatoes (I mixed 3 kinds of sausages: Italian, Hungarian, and Vienna and added ground beef to the tomato sauce); a Shaker lemon pie where I had to wrestle with an uncooperative pâte brisée; and a pot of steaming pancit molo. By the time, this article goes to print, I'll probably have a casserole full of corn pudding warming on the kitchen counter. I'm no expert in the cooking department but I do love to whip up new dishes for my kids. Sometimes I fail miserably especially when some baking is involved, but most of the time I'm actually capable of making something that my kids can eat without throwing up. (I'm just being modest, of course.)
Aside from slaving in the kitchen, I've been learning how to put on eye make up. Last night I did the smoky eye effect using black and gray eye shadow and I feel pretty smug because it actually came out really beautiful and dramatic (as opposed to looking like somebody hit me with a non-stick frying pan on both eyes -- yes, in my world that could happen, but I'll probably do the pan-hitting). I know I looked fine after the make up session because Zaki just looked at me and yawned. Ripley did a double take but thereafter screamed "I want make-up, mommy!" which I assumed was an adamant request from a 2 year old to look 20 years older. I was expecting her to say "raccoon" but thank God her animal vocab is quite limited being 2 and all. My ever supported husband on the other hand just said, "That looks nice, babe." To which I replied, "I thought you hated make up." To which he replied, "Make-up is okay, it's jewelry that I hate." There's nothing more heartwarming than knowing that your family supports you -- yes, even with utterly trivial matters like eye make-up.
I know I won't be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, the Palanca, or even Miss Congeniality in some trite beauty pageant (where my 2 year old can speak better English compared to half of the contestants) by doing the things that I've been doing for the past days. I know I'm dilly-dallying. I know it's IQ-zapping to stay in the house day in and day out and be concerned about the most mundane of things (i.e. mulling over when the next CSI rerun will be, researching Heather Mills by typing "gold digger" on Google, and ruminating over which brand of shampoo is better for my daughter's sensitive scalp). But it's actually quite exhilarating, to be in the state where I am in right now. Nothing like the prosaic to remind me of how profound life truly is.
People always talk about their so-called "A-ha moments", those pivotal, defining moments of their lives. I know you're all familiar with what I'm talking about and some of you might even be having that moment right now as you're reading my column. (That or you're having an aneurysm – probably the latter, I know!) I'm sure Oprah would be so proud of you and all that, but sometimes, these Oprahesque take on life gets so maddeningly passé for me.
Sometimes all I want to do is puke when I read stuff like "As I stood there all alone surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of dusk, inner peace engulfed me." I actually understand where that kind of phony profundity comes from (probably from reading sappy Danielle Steel books and committing to memory a few lines from some retro Hallmark greeting card).What puzzles me is that people never say things like "As I poured laundry soap in the washing machine, I began to understand the purpose of my life" or "I changed my baby's diapers today and as I wiped her smooth buttocks with alcohol-free wipes, it dawned on me that life is indeed beautiful."
Why do we have to be so irritatingly and superficially insightful when there's so much material for profundity in real life? Don't tell me that my baby's buttocks are less inspiring than dusk (which to me is quite overrated because it's actually the time of the day when mosquitoes come out, not to mention crickets, and frogs – you get my drift) or that one can't be philosophical while doing smelly laundry.
And so, as I sit here in front of my computer wondering when this article will end because I have to go and cut my daughter's toe nails, I can't help but feel genuinely happy and content. There's nothing like doing the most boring and inconsequential task to tell you that you're living your life to the fullest!