Venting Out My Fragment Thoughts

Dear Blogging Friends,

I hate to give in to the X since he has no right in demanding to be part of my religious life! No right whatsoever! How many Xes do you know that insist on being in another X's life? It has to stop. Here are a few questions I impose on you:

• How many more times do I have to give in?
• How long would it takes before I have a life of my own?
• Why does he get to live his life without my interfering or demanding, or forcing myself on him, and here is a BIG KICKER: we share the same kid!

Maybe I should be clear and add a bit more detail. The church my son chose to be involved with the Youth Group is a Vietnamese church. I am uncomfortable there with my own people, even though I know many of them, but my son feels a sense of belonging.

The mass is said in Vietnamese. My X is not Vietnamese. He is Caucation. He is not even religious! So this is why his demanding to be a part of it is eating me. This is why I don't want to give in! It's my turf! It's my place. I don't want to have him hovering over me in my place of worship!

Dear Little Son,

Taking on the advices from the comments on my last post, I ask if you want your dear old dad at church with you, and without hesitation, you said no. So that is a big relieve for me. You, yourself, want to have a special and private spot that is just for you.

I understand that, and I respect that. My job is just to drive you back and forth to your activities. I don't interfere in what you want to do, you know that!


Dear X,

Can you just go away for a while? I think I have more than my share of "shitakee" from you already! I am a civilize person, for God's sake! Really, how many Xes do you know that get the run of another X's house? I allow you to come inside my house because of the kids but you take it for granted that you're still part of my life and you think you have the right to it .

For the past 9 years, I never even step once in your house, drive on your street, or impose on all the occasions you have with our children using the excuse that I am the mother!

Think about it and be FAIR

It is not so! I leave your life to you, why can't you leave my life to me? Why do you always want to "effing" impose your life on mine and using the kids as excuse. I didn't do that to you, why do you think you have a right to do that to me? Can you just disappear from this earth to release me from your "effing" choking chain?

Dear Brainless Anonymous,

How many times a day are you going to leave me 300 words comment on celebrities nude pictures? If you notice, I rejected them all, and I'm not a bit curious about them. If you want I will give you my X's email address, because he loves this kind of nasty stuffs!

So stop wasting my time and your time!

This post is linked to Friday Fragments, and Letters of Intent! Visit these links to find out more!


Thanks for being here!

O is For Organized Watchdogs

I didn't remember the year when the orphanage was robbed, but I remembered how fun it was for us kids. We were robbed badly, every night, for a very long time! It got so bad that we all had to take a shift during the night to be guard dogs.

Each group had one nun as the leader, and had a three-hour window to watch over the whole property. We had no weapons whatsoever! Our defense tools were pots and pans! If we suspected thieves inside the orphanage walls, we used our hands to smack the pots or pans to make noises to alarm others.


My two best friends traded with other kids' shifts so we could be together. This was one of those rare occasions that we could talk. It was like a secret society for us! We signed up for the 3:00 to 6:00 AM window, since at this time people were exhausted and often hid themselves somewhere on the property to continue with their sleep.

The orphanage had to be self sufficient, and provided for itself as much as it could by raising pigs, chickens, ducks, and growing their own vegetables. All of us had to take turn caring for the animals and vegetables. We never got to eat the meat from these animals, or tasted the fresh vegetables. They were sold to the market before we even knew where they went to.

Since the orphanage had such a good supplies of foods on hands, thieves decided to target us every night. They stole animals, ripped up all the vegetables, and picked all the fruits off the trees leaving a huge loss for us.


So we became the organized watchdogs! It was pathetic to see groups of small young children walked the night like zombies with pots and pans in their hands, but as you've known, children are Kings of inventive and creative fun! When we were bored enough or fallen to sleep, we started banging the pots and pans just to see people in the orphanage scrambled all over.

My friends and I were of course, smart enough to take full advantage of these occasions to sneak some fruits into our stomach. Actually, I believed all the kids did while the orphanage was undergone these attack periods. Every night before our shift, we decided on what fruit tree would be our meal for the night if the banging began, and ran to it for our fills when it did.

Though it was a terrible ordeal to the orphanage, scary and sad, but when you were unfortunate children, you made the best of that terrible situation too!

Visit other entries at Jenny's blog, by clicking on the image below!


(Read my Childhood Series here!)

Daffodil Buds

A thousand words will not leave so deep an impression as one deed.
Henrik Ibsen



Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.
Marie Curie

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The Tattoo On My Forehead

Some times I feel like I'm wearing a tattoo on my forehead that said "abuse me!" Go ahead, take it all out on me whenever your life seems out of control or you're unhappy. It's sucks, big time! I know and understand quite well when life is messed up.

I tried all the possible ways or reasons to avoid conflict, complication, confrontation or whatever to live as normal and as peaceful as I can, but trouble/problem keeps finding me. I take a really good look at myself and my life, and I don't cause any trouble/problem to others.


In fact, I try to help others with whatever I can do in my own capacity. I know the effect of karma. I've seen it! I've experienced it! Good and bad! All my life, the biggest issue for me is when someone thinks that he/she has the right over another human. The rights to force oneself on another, to bully other with fear, to abuse mentally, physically, and emotionally.

This is the stage I'm at now. It's like a nightmare that will never stop when it comes to the X. He is forcing himself on to the part of my life that I desperately want to keep sacred: my church! This "dufus" has no interests in religion, and always has a mocking or two when it comes to religious belief.


Now, suddenly he wants to come to my church and be a part of my little boy's activity in his Youth Group after nine years. I can see it right through him! He feels as if he has very little control left with my boy and me. So the only way left for him to exercise his obsession is to demand to be part of our sacred Sunday.

Is it all right for me not to want him in my church? Do I have at least one right to keep that part of life for myself? I have shared everything else already, and I just want one special place to call mine. I don't want to see his shadow in my church. I want my church to be cleaned of my past. I want a spot for myself and my soul, without him in it!!!

Is there anyone who could understand me out there?

This post is linked to True Story Tuesday!

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Playing Along With Photo Tag

A while ago, I was tagged by Judy at HardworkinJudy, but rolling with life, I forgot. So today, still recuperating from the flu and cold, I decided to make good of my promise to play along.

The rules are simple:

• Go to your 10th folders, and pick out the tenth photo.
• Tell us a little about it.
• Tag five more players

The photo you see above is an orange Gerbera Daisy. I love this flower because of its center, which is called capitulum! Since don't have luck growing this kind of flower, I love taking picture of it whenever I can.

Now, I have to tag five other blogs, but this is where I stumped. I don't know who would play along, or if they do this sort of things. However, I will just take this opportunity to mention five bloggers below for all their support, and being there for me since the beginning of this blog.

• Jenny Matlock at Jenny Matlock, the teacher of Alphabe Thursday
• PJ at Seens From The Back of My Eyelids
• The 5th Sister at The 5th Sister
• Debbie at Debbiedoos
• LemonyRenee' at Of Lemons and Honey

So to all of you, regular visitors, subscribers, followers, and supporters, I offer you this orange flower as a token of my appreciation. May our relationship continue to bloom!

Thanks for being here!

Beautiful Red-Winged Black Birds

I saw these black birds near the ducks and swans by the river. They all seemed to get along very well, and were very used getting fed by humans. Whatever foods the ducks and the swans missed, these birds snatched them up quickly, and flied away.


I am pretty these birds are called Red-Winged Black Bird, though some of them had orange or yellow markings on their wings. They were beautiful to watch since the rest of their black feathers glowed under the sun.


These red-winged black birds are not that shy around their animal friends, but they definitely don't like to see humans' shadows. They flew as soon as one took a step.

The quality in these pictures are not that great, but what do you expect from a point and shoot camera?

Enjoy other entries at Camera Critters, and Bird Photography Weekly!

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Fragment Journal on Men

***Guest Post by JL***

Dear Mr. Man,

Lucky for me, I ran into you. God knows how I took care of myself and raised my children before you came along, because according to you I am clueless, stupid, incompetent, and worthless. Yes, according to you, and of course you are the final and ultimate source on everything. It's a wonder I have survived this long. Lucky thing you came along.


I owe you such a debt of gratitude. I should bow down and kiss your feet daily. I should never raise my voice or an eye brow at anything you ask or say. I marvel at your wisdom and thank you for taking the time and patience to try to explain anything to someone so stupid as I. I deserve to be called names and degraded. I deserve to be belittled and embarrassed. Perhaps this is what it takes to teach me to shut up, keep my opinions to myself, and realize that you know it all.

I was placed on this earth to do your bidding. It is my sole mission. Is there anything else I can do for you before I buy our groceries, cook our meal, clean my house, do our laundry and get ready to go to work to pay our bills? Whatever it is, name it, and it will be my silent pleasure.

Who knew this is what marriage is all about? Last I knew we were created from Adam's rib, not the bottom of his feet, to be trodden on. Silly me, there I go thinking again. . .

This post is linked to Friday Fragments, and Letters of Intent! Visit these links to find out more!

*****

(Since starting this blog, I have heard many people expressing their wishes for a place to write out their "RAW Thoughts and Feelings", somewhere that is safe to be true and honest to oneself, without fear of steeping on someone's toes! So I offer my space to those close friends that want to "write it out loud"!)

Thanks for being here!

N is For Naughty

While we were at the orphanage, we were taught how to sew, how to do embroidery, how to knit and crochet. From young to old, everyone had to work, and everyone had to produce some sort of things that were valuable enough to sell at the market for money.

My two best friends and I were the leaders in the embroidery department. We made handkerchiefs, hand embroiled cute or pretty designs in the corner, and our handkerchiefs sold well in the market. Thus, we earned a few trips to the market on our own. There was nothing better than the feelings of freedom.


On our way to the market, we crossed a little temple, and a graveyard. The temple always had fresh fruits or other foods offered to the Buddha. At the graveyard we saw other edible foods that were left on the head stones for the dead. They were like gold for three starving kids! Temptation was high and the urges to devour them made us drool every time we passed by these areas.

We were told, by our nuns, that we couldn't eat the foods at the temple or at the graveyard, because they were offered to the Gods/spirits, so eating them we would have sins. In our minds, they were a waste, and we were hungry.

One day, we decided to commit sins on our way back, and ate all the foods that we could put our hands on at the temple. We stuffed our faces! We rolled on the ground at the graveyard begged forgiveness before we ate the foods. We knew quite well that we would be punished, but when hunger stricken, we had to hit back.


Our naughty behaviors made us satisfied at that moment, but trouble awaited for us right at the front gate. Apparently while we enjoyed our foods, the neighbors reported us to the nuns. We had to wear the signs "Naughty" on our back, "Thief" on our front while kneeling in the midday sun. We were sent to confession for our sins, and of course, no foods for the day.

The moment of glory for us was that only moment we decided to be naughty! It was worth every bit of it! We were full for the very first time. We got to eat some very tasty foods. We got to actually committed sins. Somehow, with all the handkerchiefs that we made and sold for the convent, we deserved to be naughty and fed by the foods on the road.

Visit other entries at Jenny's blog, by clicking on the image below!


(Read my Childhood Series here!)

The Why Me Question?

My car has been acting up in all different ways lately, and despite the fact that I had it looked at by different mechanics. No one seemed to be able to locate the exact problem. One told me this, and the other told me that. So I was running in circle!

Then bad lucks hit, and it hit hard! Three on the roll! One morning, I started my car to warm up before taking the kid to school, and my muffle was rumbling! At I got into the car, I even felt the vibration from the seat.


The second bad luck came last Friday. While driving my little boy to his soccer practice, my windshield got hit by a flying rock. It was bad enough to leave a small crack line in the middle of the windshield, and since I had the cheapest full coverage auto insurance, it is not covered under this policy. My deductible is too high, and the cost to replace the windshield is much lower. Can you imagine that?

The third bad luck was a nail in my tire! I mean, how can these things happen to me within short period of time? Though it wasn't that bad, but I still have to take the car to an auto shop, waiting for them to repair my tired, and cost me the extra money that I wasn't prepare for.


With all that had happened, sometimes I have to ask "Why Me?" Why can't I just have smooth sailing for a while? It is pretty tired being me!

Thanks for being here!

Drooping Daffodils

This year, April shower is really an April shower! We have more rainy days than I care to remember. Though rain is good for the earth, but just coming out from a long snowy winter, I am ready for warm sun to spend time outside.



Daffodils to me are the sight of Spring! It means that the weather has really warm up enough for these flowers to bloom.


Most of our daffodils were drooping after two continuous rainy days. These daffodils were bright yellow, but the lack of sunlight made them look almost orange.

I develop an obsession with water drops on flowers, and the rain provides me the opportunity to do so. Many of my friends also live in a hotter climate, and said that they really miss daffodils.

I waited for the rain to stop, ran outside to take picture of my daffodils with the idea of turning the picture into a postcard for friends that could not growing this flower in their neck of the woods.


With so much rain and cold days, I was afraid that my daffodils would not survive, but they did! They bloomed beautifully when the sun finally came out, and the color went back to bright yellow!

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Just Raw Drama

The yelling and screaming took place late at night on Saturday. I was handling a cold and flu on my own while nodding off on the lazy chair. It was 11:30 when he brought my little boy back. I woke up shaking by the noises, and was pretty sure he went up stair, but for some reasons, he came back and laid the child on the couch.

All day, the unsettling feelings plus the cold and flu symptoms threw me in to another world. I was half in reality of life, and was half in limbo. He tormented me since 9 o'clock in the morning. His presence early in the morning at my house was not welcome. I avoided small talks. I resented his comfortable being in my house. No one was like him when it came to X spouse.


While waiting for the little boy to get ready, he went ahead and changed his clothes in my other room. Yup, he was very comfortable in my house! Then, came back to the living room where I was working on the computer, and started his push-ups, sit-ups. The sight of this man doing whatever he pleases killed me! I didn't ask him to feel comfortable or treated like his own house.

No, we were divorced, nine years already! But old habits die hard, or perhaps the lack of parental guidance gave him an airhead. In any case, he left with the child, but the child wanted to come home at night. He just didn't want to go with him every other weekend anymore.


So as I staggering dragged my feet to go to bed, he stopped me on my track: "Let me tell you something, I don't care if you want to hear it or not, you're going to listen to what I have to say..." Now, at this point, in my situation, at this time, in my house, I got nothing left to defense myself but yelled. Yes, get the "effing" out of my house. But he planted himself in my path like a giant tree.

When things didn't go his way, it's automatically my fault! It's all the bad things that I did! It's me, and my fault!

Then he threatens to take me to court, for not carrying out my part! His finger was pointing in my face and swung this way, that way! He was very sure that the court would rule in his favor. He was convinced that everyone would see how evil I'm. Through the darkness, he was an ugly figure! He bullied me in my own house, at midnight.

Just at that moment, a thought ran pass my mind, and that was I NEED A HUSBAND! No, really, if I have a husband, he wouldn't be freely coming in to my house, doing whatever he wants, going up stair to my bedroom, or bullying me with his being. Definitely, I need a husband! But oh shoo...what if it turns out to be another man like him...

This post is linked to True Story Tuesday!

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Sweet Karma

He lives in the corner of her mind, quiet, yet invisibly powerful! There are constant conversations going on, tugging and pulling in every which way. He says, "You need to find a man to make you complete!" This statement was like salt rubbing into her open wound. She feels a deep cut going through her flesh, and a sensation of warm blood rushing upward to her cheeks. It burns. It hurts. It chokes!

Slow in response, she finally says, "If I can't complete myself, then no man can!" He laughs and snorts. "You ought to try what I say some times." She knows too well the power of words he uses with her. He means to break her spirit, and makes her feels as small as he could. Words are his weapon. Words are all he has.


Not once, not twice, but over and over again, he insists that she should find herself a man to make her happy. He wants her to validate his thought. Only when she finds someone to love her, would he rests and somehow find relief for himself.

His life is set! He finds another woman to love. He believes that the new lady is his soul mate, and his happiness. He gloats. He is on cloud nine. He truly depends on another human to make him feels complete. New flesh erases 20 years of memory easily.


The invisible man lives on in her mind for years, dictating her every being. She holds out on all of his advices. She works on "completing" herself, and finds herself after those long years of being a wife and a mom.

Now, she has the satisfaction of watching him squirms in miserably with his own soul mate cheating on him. And yes, karma is sweet, especially when she didn't have to lift a finger to do anything about it.

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Hardy Orchid Flowers

Orchid is one of the most fascinating flowers on earth to watch and see. There are so many different types, colors, and textures. Some look quite fancy, and delicate while others are hardy but equally gorgeous.


These orchids are found at a local Conservatory, and it is the only place where I can see these types of orchid here. The Conservatory is known for its collection of orchids, from rare to common orchids all around the world. You can see the other kind of orchid here.

Enjoy other entries at Today Flowers!

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American Robin

This big chubby American robin came to visit one day, and it just stood there to stare at me. Maybe it's questioning me for the food since the bird feeder was hanging empty above its head. There was not even a little crumb on the ground when the robin arrived.


This is the chubbiest robin that I have seen around here. It skipped back and forth in a ritual so I just have to take the pictures. It was very peculiar to see.


Then came a smaller and skinnier robin. I was for sure that they all looked for foods when I saw the same ritual of skipping back and forth around this tree where I hung the feeder.

Enjoy other entries at Camera Critters, and Bird Photography Weekly!

Thanks for being here!

Fragment Journal

***Guest Post by JL***

I've gone to the thrift store to fill my empty heart. I find here a trinket to replace the daily hugs I do not get, a used pair of earrings to remind me that I deserve beauty and a used jacket to replace the warmth I do not find in your words. I long for something to remind me that I am of value. I work hard for my money. I use most of it to pay our bills and really cannot afford the dollar or two I spend here. It ticks me off that I cannot afford to spend a dollar or two, but you have an abundance of money to spend on your entertainment. Buying these little things make me happy, if only for the moment. It is my temporary "fix".


I treat you to some of the goodies you crave and purchase and prepare your favorite foods, (even though I cannot afford these either) but never receive acknowledgment for this. I never hear a thank you uttered from your lips. My heart is an aching cavern, lonely and wanting...I don't go to bars. I don't drink. I don't use drugs. I don't cheat on you. I shop. This is my single indulgence. I accumulate belongings, which I will quickly give away if anyone needs them. They have but to mention their need and it is theirs, but what of my needs? A hug, a kind word, a thank you.... What of mine? Do I ask too much? Never mind, I see that strange look in your eyes. They are glazing over and the impatience on your face tells me it is time to go shopping again. The question lingers in my mind "Why did you ever marry me when you would rather be by yourself?"

(Since starting this blog, I have heard many people expressing their wishes for a place to write out their "RAW Thoughts and Feelings", somewhere that is safe to be true and honest to oneself, without fear of steeping on someone's toes! So I offer my space to those close friends that want to "write it out loud"!)

Thanks for being here!

M is For Malicious

I remember what I did to that poor baby boy, but in my defense, I was only 10 years old with a huge responsibility of taking care of an infant, a sick and needy infant in this case. Here is my confession, for the first time in decades: I pinched the baby to make him cry louder! The louder the better because that was when my aunt would come to the rescue for both of us.

I made sure to pinch him where there was no open flesh or near the wounded areas. He was not an easy baby to care for because of his condition, and he didn't like me. We both had no choice in the matter. Often, he demanded to be held or constant movement to stop his whining. I either had to walk the floor with him in my arms, or gently rocking the crib. If I stopped, he would begin his moaning again.


By accident while picking him up one night, I touched his open wound from the ant bite, and he screamed on top of his little lung. He screeched so loud that commanded my aunt running in a few split seconds toward us. She was in slumber land at the opposite end of the building but she heard him. Watching her flying by to my side gave me an idea, and that was to make this kid cried in vein.

The malicious action began! I was not proud of what I did, and kept that secret to myself for a very long time. I made sure also that my pinch never left a mark on his body, and I didn't do that often for fear my aunt would find out. I only did it when I was too exhausted or too sleepy to stay up. She loved him, so she should be the one that took care of him, I reasoned!


It was a terrible thing for a child to do, but when it came to push and shove, survival instinct took over. My aunt only rescued the baby boy when he wailed, and she usually took him to her bed after that, which meant for me longer hours of sleep, and freed from my chores until the morning. So by pinching him or hurting him, I saved myself!

This episode went on for almost a year between the three of us! My malicious secret was eaten at me. I hated having to hurt him for my own gain, but it was the only solution available to me at the time. After Mother of the Convent found out that my aunt kept the baby in her bed, the boy was sent to another orphanage since my aunt became too attached to him.

It was a very sad day for my aunt, and she took to illness for over three weeks. She mourned for him like a biological mother who had lost her child. But for me, it was a relief on both soul and body. I was happy to see that little baby boy gone. I was malicious glad to see my aunt suffered. For a 10 year old, it felt like I had an evil mind but I didn't feel bad about it either...

Visit other entries at Jenny's blog, by clicking on the image below!


(View my Childhood Series here, or at the top of the blog!)