Friday, January 23, 2015

All The Pretty Things

If you ever peek into my purse, you'll see all sorts of pouches inside. I use different pouches to store things by category: all my checkbooks and credit cards go in one pouch, my writing supplies and device chargers in another, my makeup and toiletries in yet another.  "Containerizing" helps me find things quickly without having to dig and saves on brain power, which I would rather use on work or writing projects.

Right now, all the pouches are either black or clear.  I've been meaning to replace them with cuter ones in nice colorful prints, but haven't found any that I really like.  Until a few days ago, when an old friend from back in the Philippines, announced an exciting new collaboration she was doing with a major bookstore back home.


Filipina TV host and producer, Daphne Osena Paez, in collaboration with the country's largest bookstore chain, National Book Store, recently unveiled a limited edition line of stationery and organizing products.  The DAPHNE® line includes pouches, a tote, note holders and clipboards, pens, desk organizers, file and magazine sorters, and of course, journals. All come in floral prints chosen from the names of her mother and her three beautiful daughters, and the hummingbird print in honor of her father's long career as a helicopter pilot.




While the items are not available here in the States, I've already had my family grab me a few things to hold onto until I go home for a visit.  The prices of her products are very, very reasonable.


I am so happy for my friend, Daphne.  She is a local TV personality and lifestyle influencer, with her shows featuring fashion and home design. She has a line of  bed linens, fine furniture, and other home products.  She is also the UNICEF Special Advocate for Children for the Philippines, bringing national attention to the importance of good health, nutrition, early childhood education, and the protection of children's rights.


We've known each other for years, but interestingly, our relationship grew while I was already living here in the United States.  The internet is a powerful connector, I tell you.
 
 Just like her, I too am "Laking National."  This term means that I grew up with National Book Store, having bought all my school books and supplies from there as a student.  This store nurtured my love for reading, and we all know reading is one of the seeds for writing.  Salamat, National!  Congratulations, Daphne!










Sunday, January 18, 2015

Inspiration Sunday





Found via ImprovisedLife.com


This post also appears as a prompt on Amy Holiday's blog feature, 30 Days of Short Stories.  Jump start your writing by joining us create new work during the month of January!

This prompt is yours to draw inspiration from. If you use it, and decide to post the resulting piece on your blog, or other online forum that hosts your writing, let me know in the comments section. I'll make sure to drop by and share my thoughts.

Friday, January 16, 2015

#30Shorts - Elevator Pitch Prompt

This is today's #30Shorts prompt.  The goal for the day is to create an elevator pitch based on the cards.  Hmmm...

Here goes:

An aging Viking warrior decides to go on one last quest, to rescue a fair maiden from the clutches of a mind-manipulating sorcerer.  What part of his adventure is real?  The rescue or the escape from the reality of his last days?

Now that feels a little complicated. 

Thursday, January 15, 2015

#30Shorts - The Island

Today's prompt is this, provided by fellow writer, Karen Harbin:


The Island 

“Mommy, mommy!” Grace chirped as she walked in to the hotel room with her Dad. “Look what I bought you!” She waves a card in the air. 

Despite the fog in my brain, I smile. “Don’t come too close, honey,” I say. Having the flu while on vacation sucks big time. I don’t want it to spread to her. She hands the card to my husband who brings it over to me. 

It is a postcard of the island, this tropical paradise we’re on. The photo shows the beach from the vantage point of the ocean. White caps crashing against the shore. Bright umbrellas, sun chaises and beach towels  on the sand. A half open coconut, with a hibiscus and straw sitting one of the tables. The blue sky matching the one that’s actually outside my window. 

“Thanks, sweetie!” I am grateful for her thoughtfulness, but irritated inside by the fact that I cannot enjoy the real view. The real sand. The real sun. All I have is this picture to imagine its true beauty. I turn over the card and the price tag is still on it. Five dollars. 

I give my husband a pointed look.  I don't have the heart to comment on what a trap the hotel gift shop could be.

"At least you know what you're missing," my husband teased. 
 
-oOo-

Oh well...

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

#30Shorts - Day 13

I've been MIA for a while on the #30Shorts challenge.  Sorry about that.  And, I am sorry for this rather somber piece.  It's what came to me after reviewing today's prompt.  I don't think this was something Amy had in mind, but needed to get back on the saddle.

Here goes:

The sunshine blinds me when I open my eyes. I’ve done it again; fallen asleep on the swing set waiting for him to come home. Since I’m still here, I figure he didn’t.

It’s been a warm summer, so hanging out on the deck at night has been a treat. In the beginning, he’d find me asleep and wake me gently to come in. That was until I said something about the sour smell of scotch on his breath. After that, he’d just nudge me and say he was home. I’d pick myself up and follow him inside. He’d be gone by morning, back to work.

One morning, I found myself still on the swing set come daylight. Worried, I called him. He didn’t make it home, he said. Big project at work, he said. Stayed at the Best Western, he said. Be home tonight, he said.

 #

Found someone else, he said. Been unhappy for a while, he said.  Good bye, he said.

I don’t know when it was when I noticed that he’d stopped coming home altogether. I don’t know when it was when we first stopped talking to each other. I don’t know when it was when we first stopped laughing together. 

What I’d give for a tunnel back into the time we last smiled at each other.

#


Sunday, January 11, 2015

Inspiration Sunday



Artist Unknown, found via Vintage WTF Photography on WallToWatch.com

This post also appears as a prompt on Amy Holiday's blog feature, 30 Days of Short Stories.  Jump start your writing by joining us create new work during the month of January!

This prompt is yours to draw inspiration from. If you use it, and decide to post the resulting piece on your blog, or other online forum that hosts your writing, let me know in the comments section. I'll make sure to drop by and share my thoughts.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

#30Shorts - Day 6

Day 6's prompt is here. I skipped Day 5.

Note: Please note that the work shown here is not ready for critique, as it is fresh and unedited. Please be gentle with your thoughts.

#

One by one, the ceiling lights are turning off. The energy saver sensors cutting power to the areas where no movement can be sensed. Every so often, a leaving co-worker triggers the lights to come back on in the elevator area, then they turn off about a minute after that person boards the car.

The dialog box on my screen tells me that it's shutting down some program that's running in the background. I use the time to collect my things into my purse and put on my coat.

Finally, the screen goes black. I walk out the door of my glass walled office, and head for the elevator bank. I'm running late to dinner with Tim, and I can't keep doing this to him, lest he think I'm not interested.

While I wait, the ceiling light above my desk shuts off, but the glare from my still on computer screen illuminates my empty chair.  

Damn it! I walk back to my office and find on my screen the "blue screen of death" showing an apparent error with my computer. I read the white words to get a sense of what's wrong.

 DON'T LEAVE THIS ROOM.

A chill runs through me, but I try to ignore it. I look up toward the elevator waiting area, and notice that the ceiling lights haven't turned off.

I bend over my keyboard and hit Ctrl-Alt-Del, to force the computer to shut down. Another blue screen pops up.

 DON'T LOOK UP.

There's something rustling outside my office. I peek over my computer screen. There's nothing there. The computer beeps.

DON'T TURN AROUND.

IT WON'T HURT.

A cold wind swirls around me squeezing, coiling, twisting; wringing the air out of me. A sharp pain on the side of my neck is the last I thing I feel.

#

Hmmm... not so sure about this one, but I had to go with it.  *Bludgeons inner critic*