Retirement!

I quit my job this past summer. I'm now retired! (party dance)

^ IT ME
Image from Hill's

The truth is, I had been restless and unhappy in the office for months. I'd even gone to my doctor because I felt so burned out. My days consisted of getting myself and the kids ready to go, hitting the office, picking the kids up, preparing dinner while one or both of them screams for my attention, cleaning up after them, putting them to bed...It was exhausting. Despite that, I missed them when I was at my desk, and the best part of my work day was rushing off to pick them up from daycare.

I realized that I could manage a job and one child, but two mini-mes changed the game.

A comedienne once described a committee that lives in everyone's head: a group composed of voices shouting negative and discouraging things. My committee was asking me why I couldn't be a superwoman, someone who had a glittering career and still took on most of the child caring responsibilities. And finally, I shouted back: I'm done! I'm being called to full-time motherhood, for the first time in my life! And I will! Answer!

Everyone was very supportive of my decision, foremost being Fragrant Husband and Fragrant Mother. My boss and coworkers understood. Not so helpful: the admin manager who warned me thusly: "If I see a gap in someone's resume, I don't hire them." OK, cool.

And so here I am, half a year into my, well, let's call it semi-retirement. I now exercise regularly, the house is reasonably clean, and meal prep is still dicey, but no longer breakdown-inducing. I've learned to play hits like "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" on the ukelele. When people ask me how my job is, I say the pay sucks, but I get great benefits. I'm happy. I'm content.

Spend my days adventuring with these cuties? YES PLEASE

What I'm trying to say, gentle readers, is that I'm retiring this blog. I've put in a solid decade of frequently pointless rambling on this site, and now I shall perhaps find a new creative outlet elsewhere. Hint: if you're on a movie or book or game review site and see the username fragrantelephant, it might be me?

TL;DR: Good night, and good luck. Fragrant Elephant out.

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This post brought to you by The Expanse! Read the books, watch the show, you inner you!

Thank You!

Dear reader,

What a pleasure to have you with me on my blogger-y journey about travel, cats, movies, games, books, motherhood, eating, quitting smoking, whining, and the other stuff of life. Whether you've been with me for the entire 10-year run of Fragrant Elephant (my parents), or if you've just casually checked in from time to time, or if Google took you here and you muttered imprecations while furiously clicking the "Back" button on your browser, THANK YOU for taking the time to visit this here blog.

TL; DR: This blog is 10 years old! Soon it'll steal our car, smoke a Juul, and do internet challenges!

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This post brought to you by procrastination! I do not want to clean the house! 

Literary Juice Published My Story!

Literary Juice, an online lit magazine, has a section called Pulp Fiction that challenges writers to create a story with exactly 25 words. My piece, "Mole," is on this page. Hurray!

I winced when I saw the author bio. I sound like an asshole. The instructions were to describe myself in 75 words, so I threw in my life story. In hindsight, I would have just included the last two sentences. Well, lesson learned.

Ang Bruha ng Balete / The Witch of Balete

One day, a giant bamboo sprouted from the earth at the top of the mountain. When the bamboo split open, its two halves revealed the first man and woman. They awoke and lived in the mighty bamboo forest that bloomed from the remains of the dead giant.

An old balete grew at the edge of the bamboo forest. The tree became jealous of the giant bamboo. It too wanted to produce new beings and help give birth to a stand of fellow trees. But try as it might, it could not create a man and a woman as the bamboo did.

One day, in desperation, the balete asked an eagle flying overhead for advice. The eagle replied that it could not help, for the answer lay in the ground, and not in the sky where the eagle soared.

The balete went deep inside itself, and with its roots, felt for the truth of creation. Many long years passed as the tree continued its search.

At last, it found the answer. It shouted in exultation. At that exact instant, a bolt of lightning struck from the heavens and killed the tree. The witch emerged from its charred remains.

The first man and woman saw the lightning strike and went to investigate. They saw the witch and invited her to their home. She went with them and regaled them with many tales, for she knew all truths. She also told them how to make other creatures like themselves.

The first man and woman gave birth to many children. The witch stayed with the family for several generations and taught them how to thrive. Eventually, the people of the mountain-forest decided to leave the mountain to seek their fortunes. The witch warned them to stay with her, but they went anyway. Over time, they became corrupted by the world outside.

The witch stayed behind, tasked with guarding the knowledge that the lightning bestowed upon her.

***

Notes:

Balete Drive in Quezon City is apparently the prowling grounds of the infamous White Lady. Rumor has it that hapless drivers will suddenly see a woman wearing white, brake too late, and run her over. Then, puzzled by the lack of impact, they would get out of their car and investigate, only to find nothing. When they go to drive away, they'll glance in their rearview mirror...to see the woman sitting in their backseat.

Dun-dun-dunnnn!

This story combines the Filipino story of creation (the bamboo one, not the one where god bakes) and the link between the balete and the White Lady. I like the idea of re-imagining witches as forces of good, like Terry Pratchett does in Discworld. Hence, the balete as the unwitting recipient of knowledge / mom to the most charming people in all of Asia.

Writing with Two X Chromosomes

Photojournalist and author Deborah Copaken Kogan wrote a candid piece on Jezebel entitled, "My So-Called 'Post-Feminist' Life in Arts and Letters," wherein she shared her personal experience with gender discrimination. Kogan endured being ignored by reviewers, being slandered, and being labeled primarily as a stay-at-home mom despite her previous career as an award-winning network producer and a photojournalist. "Would you call a male author a stay-at-home dad?" she asks.

No, I call 'em alcoholics, hur hur hur.

Joking aside, publishing baffles me. Reading is subjective. There are good works, there are classics, and there are Fifty Shades of Gray and its ilk. According to Kogan, she barely had any say in how her books were titled and sold, which, hey -- she's the author, they're the publisher -- she writes, they print it, package it, and sell it. Simple, no?

I'm puzzled about why there wasn't more collaboration, but in her case, I do have a counter example for her anecdote about having to fight over the covers of her books. Darrell K. Sweet, R.I.P., created all the cover art for the Wheel of Time series (except A Memory of Light). Readers made fun of those covers because they were so cheesy, and more to the point, they didn't appear to reflect any of the book's content. If nothing else, the "Sweet" cover arts generated a lot of humor posts in the early days of the Internet. The point is, there's a lot going on in the various departments of a publishing house, and not all of it is optimal.

Kogan's most salient point in the article involves the three words that kept her silent for so long: "They'll smear you." The fear of speaking out, of expressing her reality, held her in its grip. She says it best:

The lack of respectful coverage, the slut-shaming and name-calling, all the girly book covers and not-my-titles despite high literary aspirations, has worn me down, made me question everything: my abilities, my future, my life. This is what sexism does best: it makes you feel crazy for desiring parity and hopeless about ever achieving it.

Then she heard Bob Dylan sing, "When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose." By this time, all Kogan had to lose was her fear. And she tossed it aside and held out herself to us, and told us what she'd been through, and what she'd expected of the feminist revolution, and what life hurled back at her. It's slow going, she says, and we're not there yet, but we keep fighting. First, we stand up for ourselves. Then we let our voices ring! Equality! Equality! Equality!

In case you're wondering, I'm still working on the first part: standing up. No, seriously, this couch is so comfortable.

Fortunately, I can draw inspiration from actual women doing actual things, like Kogan. And after inspiration comes perspiration, amirite?

Next post: A trip to Sephora! A credit card weeps! Stay tuned!