A part of me has become rather interesting to a lot of people nowadays. Heads would turn everywhere I’d go and I’ve had children staring with unabashed fascination … I should be enjoying all these attention. Instead, I keep longing for that get up, you know … the all-time fashion craze among Taliban women?
You see I’m smart enough to figure out how to skin one whole chicken without causing any tear and come out with a mouth-watering Chicken Galantina, but apparently not smart enough to keep my nose a respectable distance away from the steamer when I opened the lid. Ouch!
Yeah! It hurt! As my friend Chedette said, “poor Tita Olga!”. Yes, poor Tita Olga indeed.
And as a consequence of that stupidity, I sported an angry red, swollen little nose for a day or two that had everyone believing I was Rudolph’s long lost cousin.
Right now, it has turned kind of purple with a hint of brown and red … call me Barney this time…
I should be worried sick at how this would affect my beauty … (ok, ok, you can lower that raised eyebrow now) … considering that I am a keloid-former. Good if the scar would grow upwards, giving my vertically challenged nose a much-needed boost or an interesting tilt at the very least.
But heaven forbid it would grow sideward … and sit astride the tip of my nose … wouldn’t that make me look like a hammerhead shark? Shivers…
But I’m actually more concerned of people thinking that I had a misadventure with shabu. You know, Olga too sabog to realize she had the flame under her nose instead of elsewhere, or as friend Cris Bonga joked, maybe some would think that I was an enthusiastic, first-time user who got the hot tinfoil sticking like glue to my nose. That would have been hilarious had I not been so miserable.
My husband Nonoy tried to help by suggesting that maybe people would think I was a sunburned balikbayan. Yeah, that was really comforting. Maybe I was touring the Sahara Desert and forgot to apply sunscreen on my nose!
Chedette also tried to be helpful by suggesting that I tell folks I dove right into a birthday cake and started licking off the icing while the candles were still lighted. Now, that’s me through and through!
I asked another friend Mayet to guess what new look my nose was sporting. She could not decide between a nose job and a broken nose that resulted from being punched by somebody whom I picked a fight with.
Oh … that’s a winner! You should have seen me doubling up with laughter at that one. Too bad I can’t tell here who it was that Mayet suggested I picked a fight with! She does know me inside out!
Why all these fuss about my nose? Well, this is supposed to be a housewife’s corner. So let me share one recently gained housewifely insight … keep your nose away from steaming pots! (As if somebody actually needed to be told that! It seems only I didn’t get that the first time.)
Oh yes! I’m also hoping somebody would take pity on my poor nose and email me some info about how to keep keloid from forming on my already-bulbous nose. That would be a great help!
By the way, I’d like to thank Ernie Bhagwani for his glowing comments about MetroPost and its writers. As my editor Irma Faith Pal said, feedbacks like that from our readers lighten things up during times when the burdens of running a paper like MetroPost gets kind of heavy.
Mr. Bhagwani was right. This paper does stand out. It’s in a class of its own and we have our hardworking duo Alex and Irma to thank for that. And oh! Let’s not forget their impeccable knack at choosing columnists for this paper! (ehem!)
It is very gratifying to know that all the hard work being put into MetroPost, including that by its columnists, is being appreciated. We all do this for the love of writing.
And yes, we do have some world-class writers among us, and it’s a privilege to be named next to them. Although I must say that I am not deserving of that title. What you read in this column is simply my chatter set on print. If I could include me laughing out loud in it, I would.
Thank you Mr. Bhagwani. I’m sure your comments made everyone’s day!