Clan of the Cave Bear - Book Review by Jean Auel

I came across a comment for Jean's Clan of the Cave Bear where there were a lot of questions about the authenticity of the historical facts she had in the book. It surprised me as the spine of the book clearly states it's a work of fiction. So why all the negative comments?
Personally, I think this book and those that followed may not have done justice to historical facts but it did give light to a lot of facts that are still predominant in a lot of societies today. Like in the case of how most cultures view women and what their roles are in society. It is a beautiful story of one woman's survival to find her own niche.
This is a moving saga about people and relationships. Here, Jean takes as back to prehistoric times and sweeps us up in the story of Ayla. She is left orphaned at 5. Left wandering in search of her parents, she comes across the "clan". She is adopted by Iza, the clan's medicine woman and her brother Creb, the Mogur (Shaman). Though they try their best to teach her their ways, Ayla instinctively knows she is different. In the end of this first of five books, Ayla is banished; taken away from the people she has learned to love, taken away from her son. She must start her own journey to look for her kind.
I would give this book 5 stars for entertainment. It's a long read - 495 pages if you read the soft bound version. But it's definitely a page turner. Breath-taking and definitely entertaining.

Father's Day

A lot of advertisements for Father's Day have been out since a month ago. Some featured June 12. Others featured June 20. After a bit of research I finally figured out that we celebrate Father's Day on the 3rd Sunday of June - so that would be June 20 of this year.
I will not be able to let this day pass without mixed feelings for my dad. He passed away in May of 1998. I had just come home from school and was staying at a friend's house. Someone called to tell me my dad had just had a stroke and was in the hospital. I forget now who called me; whether it was my mom or one of my brothers I don't recall. But that isn't important.
Dad was a lot of things to me. I saw 2 sides of him no one ever saw. One side, the father who was caring, loving, doting, who loved to spend afternoons in the bookstore, loved watching movies, loved classical and jazz, and who loved an early dinner at Mcdonald's or Shakey's or wherever I wanted to eat. The other side, obsessive compulsive with neatness and order and cleanliness, manipulative.
He was very lenient towards me - me and my stubborn ways. I hated him telling me what to do. I was very precise with what he wanted. He bought my clothes. Taught me how to fold them in crisp orderly fashion where the shirts were organized in colors and sizes, my pants all hanging on one side of my cabinet, my shoes lined up like soldiers. Everything had it's place as he would often tell me and would frown if he saw something out of place.
My mom spent the afternoons playing Mahjong with her friends so he says, 'he took the responsibility of teaching me everything I needed to know' He was dead serious about it. The biggest fights I ever had with him were always about my wardrobe. He generally let me have my way with food as I wasn't fond of eating back in the day unless I had Mcdonald's. He dictated what books I read, friends I should be with and who I needed to see and talk with - So I was a kid who was not too good with friends as I knew what he wanted but made my own all the same. So we go back to my wardrobe. Everything had to fit me perfectly. No loose clothes. No tight ones either. Everything had to be ironed right down to my house clothes. He couldn't stand me in wrinkly clothes. He couldn't even stand tiny holes or minute threads sticking out at the seams. Those had to be cut. My clothes starched. If my clothes had a chance - they probably would have stood on their own. If my pants were a bit long, then he had them tailored. My socks had to be a certain length; not too short and not too long either or he had me fold them. So there I was a teenager folding her socks like I was a 3 year old going to a party. How I hated it when he inspected what I wore and hated myself even more for feeling like a turd because I followed what he said all the same. He was even more obsessive compulsive about my underwear. What bra size I wore, what kind of panties. It stressed me to no end. It was not until college that he kind of gave up on me.
Another thing I kind of learned from him was how to do my homework, my projects and to this day, how I organize my files. He was meticulous when it came to filing. All his bills were filed and each had a folder of its own. No paper was out of place. Paper that stuck out was like an eyesore for him so he would line and cut the paper to the precisely desired size. Doing my homework with him could be a torment at times. Everytime I had a project where I needed to cut stuff or write, he always had to dictate how it should be. It would be years later when I learned to cut paper without first having a ruler and lining it. Now, I can cut without worrying about cutting outside the lines or that a mm. of paper would be sticking out. Needless to say all these was stressful.
But at least out of all the "training" I got, he and I were still able to enjoy each other's company. When we weren't arguing or rather when he didn't need to stress a certain point, we kind of enjoyed the movies together. Almost every afternoon during the summers would be rewarding for me. I didn't have to think about my chores, about fixing stamps (that was my dad's past time), didn't have to worry about cleaning and arranging my closets, didn't have to worry about scrubbing the floors or the walls of my room. Movie time was fun time - especially if he slept through the entire thing.
Another thing I enjoyed was when he would take me out for an early dinner. I wasn't fond of eating really. If I didn't see food I didn't look for it unlike now. He was always worried I wasn't getting enough to eat. I guess I never really gained weight when I was in school because of my studies and other activities. So we ate almost anywhere but especially liked Mcdonald's (I am sick of it now) or any place that served Chinese or Japanese food. Sometimes he would feel extra generous especially if I had really good grades and would spend about 1 thousand to 1.5 thousand pesos in a fine dining restaurant. This was back in the early 90's. So that amount was pretty big.
So much so for my interaction with my dad. He was very hands on in many ways. Too much of it in the later years made me uncomfortable really.
One thing he did right was to let me go and allow me to live on my own at 21. After years of being with him - it was kind of a relief to finally be on my own and decide what I wanted to be. No regrets on my part to this day. Much of his training paid off. I no longer fold my clothes in the fashion he wanted me to. But all other else - I keep organized in an unstressful fashion. My house is not a pigsty (and never will look like one) but it is inviting. A little of mess, no dirt (If I can help it) and just looks like a home of any single woman (won't be one soon hopefully so ahem ahem Tom).
So a Happy Father's Day to all the fathers out there. I could go on and on about a lot of things and would probably fill this whole blog spot with stories of him. But that will come in time.

I thought I was ready for a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, I had spent a good part of the afternoon and a few hours of my evening asleep plus I was thinking of a lot of stuff.

New at blogging - yeah! So my mind has been a tumble of ideas which I hope I can write about as time goes on. Anways, this is my little room - all spic and span and actually boring. I am thinking of maybe changing this to a light lime green color or may be a shade of yellow that would fit perfectly with my zen interior.

I did a couple of hours or so of cleaning the windows, laundering the curtains and scrubbing and cleaning a portion of the floor. My idea of cleaning is literally getting down on my hands and knees and scrubbing the floors with soap and then wiping them clean. So it was down on my knees for those couple of so hours. But then with age comes the back pains so I decided to rest a bit. I am now feeling a bit sleepy so I won't really push myself. A few more hours anyways and it will be morning.

I came home at around 11:30 am today. I slept at the office for about 3 hours as I had no sleep the previous day. I didn't want to ride the bus going home and fall asleep only to wake up in some part of the city I wasn't familiar with. So to play safe, I slept off my fatigue first.
The sleeping quarters in the office is not exactly your haven of rest with comfortable beds, airconditioned room. We just moved to the new one about 3 weeks ago so everything is temporary. Our sleeping room looks like we were in the rescue center where the mattresses are strewn every which way and you get to sleep on one on a first come first serve basis. I count myself lucky because I always get one when I come in at the most opportune time - 3 am or 5 am. I still count myself lucky if I don't have someone else's feet beside my face when I wake up, or wake up because of someone else's snoring. So it's all good really.
There was nothing much else to do. I came home and was really thinking of helping Jessa to clean up the house, wipe the windows, clean my room and all. But it all just seemed too much. So I went straight to bed and woke up at around 9 pm. So much for a Saturday evening. But that is what weekends are for anyways right? Rest. So I guess I will put off the cleaning until tomorrow morning. This way I will refreshed. I will go back to bed again once I'm done with all the blogging.
I am quite new at this thing. I've never been one to enjoy blogging but I enjoy reading other people's blogs. But I guess this is a good way to keep things in a journal. I used to enjoy writing before and haven't had the time to do so. I normally write the old fashioned way. I think I had about 4 or 5 journals done when those got destroyed by last year's storm (Ondoy). So it made no sense to re write those..like I could remember all. I'm sure I've written many things down during my spur of the moment moods.
Nowadays, I wake up or go home and log in to Yahoo messenger to see if my honey is online - which he hasn't in about a week. I guess he is has difficulty again connecting to the internet. So I will try tomorrow.
Yesterday, Tita Nelie and I went shopping for stuff for my bathroom. I have a very small one by the way. Like 2 by 1.5 feet I think. I can just picture myself kissing the wall while I take a shower. It's a joke of course. But it still is very small for me. I guess I could compensate if I had a few of the comforts I should really see in a bathroom like a simple toilet seat with a very small toilet, a showerhead and all. Next project on my list is either my living room or dining room. I just hope I don't tire of the design in a short span of time as I will really save up to decorate my small space in the next few months. I am thinking of having a zen like design for my living room. At least, I really get to relax when I come home.

So I guess this is back to bed for me for now.

On Chardy...

Someone else's death is always something one can ponder about. The death of an older person is somehow always easier to accept than that of a younger person. So when I got a text message that Chardy had passed away on June 16, 2010, I was actually on a bus on my way home, I suddenly burst into tears. Previously, I received news that he was confined due to some complication to appendicitis.
My friends and I had never really had the chance to go visit him for a number of reasons. But the most difficult thing to accept was how young he was. He just turned 24 in May of this year. I will always remember him as a very jolly person.
My stint with him was back in 2008 when we were still working in Ameriprise. Me with the Brokerage Service recovery Group and he, with the Online Data Capture group. Our groups sat adjacent to each other. And our days were filled with a lot of laughs.
Needless to say, our jobs weren't the easiest. We worked like accountants, working to process cases, computing, analyzing and then computing again. All who work in this kind of job will have to agree that no matter how challenging a case may be, we could all be smitten by fatigue or just plain drowsiness as we worked the graveyard shift. But with Chardy, he made it easier for us with his jokes, his light banter on sex and anthing he could talk about under the sun. He had a very uplifting personality.
I've always been one to easily laugh at even the smallest things. Chardy did just that. He made me laugh, he made me smile. He made everyone happy. This is the way I will always remember him.
After a few months, we moved separate ways. But when I met up with his friends we would always mention something silly he did in passing. Just like the time he drank Clorox - I believe, because he was just simply tired of life. How could a happy person be tired of life?
I guess he had problems of his own just like everyone else did. But he hid it well. From the little that I knew of him, he was a very industrious person.
He worked very hard in school and did very well, got hired by our company, which wasn't the easiest to get into and even got assigned to our account - a financial one at that. And I guess he did well on his own. He did have a penchant for calling in late to work or unscheduled absences but he was never outright rude and definitely did not have an attitude problem. So it was just so sad that we lost him.

So here I go, thinking about my life and assessing it once again. I have my quirks, yes. I know I am not always all that my friends and workmates think me to be. But I am human. It makes me ponder about how fragile life really is and how one can be called to Him anytime.

I will soon be 34 years old. What else could I say for myself. Have I done enough good deeds. Have I made some people happy. I know I have hurt some people in the long run. And I hope to atone for those little by little - my mom, some of my other friends. I have to always work at being a better person.

So this is it Chardy. Thank you for making so many people happy. While I was talking to your mom yesterday, I could tell she was very very proud of you. You could not be anything less for her. You were perfect, just like any other mom will think of her son or daughter. But it was different for you. She recognized all your efforts to study really well. You were her hope. But most of all, you made her happy. I realized where you got your bubbly personality. It was from her. She was so easy to talk to. She made no qualms that she had money and at times would tell us how difficult it was to see you through, her doubts about paying your bills, where she would get the funds to pay all. But in the long run - God provided. So don't worry Chardy dear. I hope I will be able to help in my own way. People will help your parents I am sure of that.

So rest in peace my friend.

Nothing beats the aweful summer heat in the Philippines than enjoying a weekend at a modest hotel with a swimming pool. That's what I just did on May 30-31, 2010. I had gone swimming about twice before and never really thought about buying a new swimming outfit. But being the let's just say the thrifty woman that I am, I thought it wouldn't hurt to wear the same outfit to yet my third swimming spree. Mind you! If I had a swimming pool in my home, I'd probably swim laps everyday. Laps? Not really.

I've always loved the water hence swimming. I am not even close to any average swimming athlete. I can barely even cross a 50 meter pool without stopping for a breath. But I never really cared. So much for the summers my parents enrolled me in swimming classes. The most I really got out of those was learning how to float on my back and to dog paddle. The only thing being important was to float.