Jan 12, 2011
Nov 10, 2010
His First Deja Experience
He is a outgoing, fun guy who loves all things arts. He love being on this chase to his dreams, peicing together the right steps to make so he can make a good lasting career in the entertainment arts world.
Currently, he is apart of a couple improv groups (MOBERLY) that performs around Chicago. He is recording music, learning to play guitar, improving his dance skills and trying to finish his first script. He love music and all things street art.
He is all for networking with his industry folks and just meeting people who are into the same things he is. He all about having a responsible good time while working or partying, so he pretty much get along with most people.
He is open to trying different things, building up a his resume and create a good portfolio. He have a pretty open mind to the artistic world so please don't be afraid to ask.
Interestingly, according to his status on twitter today at November 10, 2010 he just felt his deja experience for the first time in ages ! What a great moment.
Jan 26, 2010
Déjà at The Hospital
Yesterday Mamapig had to take A to see a specialist about an ongoing stomach issue. His office happens to be in the very same hospital that E, Papa Pig, and herself served their tour of duty in the NICU almost three years ago. While she have been back to the hospital more than a few times with E for various office visits, this was the first time she have been there without him.
She was unprepared for the feelings that came over her upon entering that parking lot. If she were totally honest, even the drive was giving her a strong sense of déjà vu. She began telling A the story of how she made this exact drive every morning for almost a month. As they talked she found herself remembering how very difficult those times were and how it seems like a lifetime ago.
Entering the hospital and passing all those familiar sites; the gift shop where one of the nurses bought E a teddy bear; the stairs that led down to the cafeteria when the elevators were being used during peak visiting hours, even the bench on the forth floor where Mamapig spent many afternoons waiting for shift change to be done so that she could go back and take up residence in her favorite rocking chair, holding E, dreaming of the day they finally got released.
Until you have a child that must remain in the hospital while you head home, you don't realize how very difficult it can be. Papa Pig and her entered that hospital in the middle of a Friday night excited about their beautiful daughter's impending birth. They could never have expected it would take twenty five days for her to make that journey home with them.
Being back there yesterday reminded Mamapig of the day they took the car-seat in for her car-seat test. Every child in the NICU must pass a car-seat test prior to being released. She can still recall the looks they got as they walked out of the hospital following the test with an empty car-seat. People automatically looked down to see the new arrival only to discover an empty seat. Some asked where the baby was, some just turned the other way unsure what was the proper thing to do. For those that seemed interested, they explained she was in the NICU, but that soon she would be heading home with them. The car-seat test was one step closer to those double doors out front.
After A's appointment she walked A down to the NICU to show her what they affectionately call E's "first home". She noticed that her favorite neonatologist was still on staff. Dr. S was by far the most amazing and caring doctor that she have ever met and he was a huge source of support for all of them. She was thrilled to know that he was still there helping other families through one of the most difficult times of their lives.
As she sit there trying to finish a post on her blog and is constantly interrupted by E wanting her to "beep" her nose, she is once again reminded that they are one of the lucky families. There are those that never get the joy of walking out those double doors with their baby safely in their car-seat heading home at last. Yesterday brought back many emotions, not the least was absolute joy that she have her little girl here to end her blogs suddenly.
Sometimes déjà vu reminds us of just how far we have come.
Dec 25, 2009
Deja Love at the Kampong
When the first time Qel sent Ellie “request for friend”, Ellie said to herself, “I think I know him from somewhere but I just don’t know where and when”. The thing is that, it’s like she have met him before. Then on the 13th November Nini and Ellie went up north for their vacation, he picked them up and told her that his dad would love to have us staying at their place and so they stayed at his place the day they arrived and that was the first time she met him in person. The first day Ellie was there, that particular moment where Nini and she woke up and they sat outside with baba, fahmi and Qel, suddenly this 20+years old boy who’s mentally challenged she would say came to the house to buy some snacks and drink.. She have seen that moment and she knew he was gonna come again the second time which he did and the whole conversation is so familiar.
Ellie kept telling Nini that she saw that exact moment before, the whole particular moment plus the whole conversation. So Nini told her probably it’s what they called DÉJÀ VU. She tried to just ignore it and let that thought just passed by. Then yesterday, her son Ridhwan asked her, “Umi when can we go to Uncle Qel’s place again?” Ridhwan is a boy who doesn’t easily like a person. What more having to stay at stranger’s place? So is Sarah. And for him to ask that question was absurd. So she asked him if he really like Qel’s place and they both answered at the same time with full of excitement… “YES UMI, We love it..” and Ridhwan continued saying that he doesn’t like staying at places like KL or Subang.
Ellie asked him again if he likes staying at his grandma’s place at Malacca which is also sort of “kampong” and he said NOPE. That really puzzled her because she thought it’s the kampong ambiance that they like. And today he was lying down on her tummy; suddenly he got up and again asked her the same question?
Ellie sat next to him and this time she asked him what exactly made him really want to go back to Qel’s place? His answer really gave her a shock. He said he dreamt of Qel’s house many times before and it’s the exact house. Not just any house but that particular house and he said he felt like he has met Qel before too. On top of that, he said “Uncle Qel is nice and funny”. Wokayyyyy…that’s creepy...MOTHER SON has the same DÉJÀ VU…eeeooouuuucchhh!!!
Whatever it is, Ellie think its Allah’s way of telling her he is the one. Because Ellie have always told Allah that, if He is going to open her heart to any guy, OPEN TO WHOM HE KNOWS BEST FOR HER, otherwise close it permanently.
Ellie guess DEJAVU or NO DEJAVU, she leave it up to the ONE up there. He knows what’s best.
Dec 21, 2009
Deja at the Kitchen
Lady Greenleaf is sitting at the kitchen counter, watching Man Vs. Wild over her shoulder.
She have the strangest feeling that she have done this before.
And she was very happy last night, to fall asleep looking out the window at her four trees.
It's good to be back.
Love and lots of sweaty dudes running around playing basketball.
Oct 24, 2009
Refill, Purse, Pen
Oct 10, 2009
The Pouring Rain
Déjà vu, that feeling like you've been someplace before, or seen something before, well Mmpaints have got that nagging feeling now. It's been pouring rain for 2 days now and it's giving her that déjà vu feeling. Feels like this past spring! Cold and wet, here we come again. Her tomatoes will be wiped out tomorrow night as the weather forecast says 38 for the low. Geez, She is really dreading that. The cold and damp always causes her trouble with her back. Makes her not want to get things done when she hurt all the time. The warm weather is always a welcome thing for her.
She spent most of the day working on a batch of Monterey Jack cheese. It may very well be her last batch with fresh milk for a while, she is not too pleased with that neighbor and is considering not associating with them any more. Their friendship has been one of give and take, mostly her giving and them taking. This last little fumble of them taking a month to pay her son for showing cattle for them and then cheating him out of a substantial amount of money has her a bit miffed. Compound that with the farm equipment of hers, including her tractor that they tore up this summer and all the tools they lost, the straw that's still being stored in her barn loft for them and it just doesn't even out for her. A couple of gallons of fresh cows milk a week just isn't enough for them treating her like they are entitled to take advantage of her. So, she may be working on cheese from store bought milk for a while. She hate the whole idea of it since store bought milk is worthless but she can not continue the way things are right now.
She managed to get 9 bushels of corn picked on Wednesday afternoon before the rain came in. She spent all evening shelling it. She don't have a shelling machine so she have to do it by hand. It's not hard, just time consuming and a little messy. She end up shooting a few kernels on the floor and the puppy had fun dragging the empty cobs around and chewing on them. It kept her busy so she didn't take them from her. Better than having her chew holes in her feed sacks! Now with all this rain, it will be a while before she can pick the rest of her corn out back. The rain will raise the moisture content of it. Oh well, everything can't be easy or she would be bored!
Here's a picture from the cell phone, it's Squeak, the latest house kitten. Squeak is a boy kitten and he's a real dandy. He attacks your fingers when you pet him, he's all for fighting and biting. He growls and purrs all at the same time! What a nut! He doesn't want to get away from you and if you set him away from you, he just comes back. He climbed all over her last night while she was shelling corn, sat on her shoulder for a while, attacked her hair and licked her face. He's a fat little bugger too! Can you tell she like cats?
Not much else going on here with all the rain. All the harvesting is done but the feed corn. She should have the oven fixed by late next week so not even any baking going on. Maybe she'll make a batch of soap...
Jul 26, 2009
Deja at The Mahesh Chavda’s All Nation Church Conference
He commented in a Tweet yesterday:
I feel like a race horse ready to run! I’m gonna burst if I can’t proclaim what’s being poured into my heart–Brazil can’t get here too fastThe grammar may not be correct but the sentiment is overpowering.
Jul 22, 2009
Deja on High
Jul 16, 2009
Deja Gift
Jun 16, 2009
Deja Experience in a Jewelry Store
Scarlethue, a woman live in Southeastern, have deja vu quite often. She had it just yesterday in fact. She dream things before they happen. She know that sounds absolute silly, but it is true, and she have had it happen enough times to think that maybe there is something to it, that it is not just coincidence. But it is never anything important, and the event never happens right after she dream it.
Like yesterday, she was in a jewelry store with her mom, a store she had never been in, when a necklace she was trying on became tangled. As she was unwinding it, she looked up at her mom and the store display, and she knew she had seen it before in a dream. And that is pretty typical of the kind of deja vu she have.
She think maybe it is something to do with time, like she is just floating along a time line here, one canoe in the river, when suddenly her brain jumps ahead to another spot on the river but quickly jumps back when she wake up. Or something like that.
She like the idea of memories and such being tied to our DNA, she think that is possible. There is a lot we do not understand about the way our bodies and our brains work.
Jun 9, 2009
Deja Vu in the City of Flamenco
Jun 8, 2009
A Kind of Vu ja de
I bolted upright for a coughing jag that produced little but wakefulness. Reaching for inhalers, I heard myself wheeze. Never a bad time for petting, my cat jumped into bed, hopeful. I coughed again and listened to air rumble through mucus-plugged passages long after I stopped exhaling.
My bronchial tree literally dripped and oozed in excretia that suffocated, like Spanish moss on deep swamp cypress. I inhaled deeply and coughed forcefully. The wet rattle should have produced gobs of goop. I sound like one of my patients.
“Cough,” I encouraged them, “Harder! Cough that stuff up!” It sounds like such an easy fix, moving mucus from bronchioles to bronchus where it can be hawked up and out. I had no such luck; try though I might. In that moment, I saw my end.
Ever experience déjà vu; that compelling sense of: I’ve been here before? This was vu jà-dé, the antithesis of déjà vu and presentiment of: this is where I’m going. In the stillness, solitude and silence of the predawn, within the dim dome of a single bulb, I suddenly saw myself: a tiny old woman, ribs protruding, racked by cough. Death by pneumonia; the most common death for seniors. And why not?
“If you can’t sleep because you can’t breathe," I advised, "Or if you are afraid to sleep because you’re afraid you won’t breathe, you need to come in.” Well versed in sleeping upright during periods of respiratory distress, I knew the subjective difficulty in deciding when to seek medical attention. I attempted to give my patients an objective measure, a line drawn in the sands of seeking help.
After two consecutive days of listening to my barking cough and raspy voice, Dr. Forrester slapped down his pen to ask pointedly, “Have you seen a pulmonologist?” “Five today,” I croaked, grinning. “Would you PLEASE seek medical attention outside your own cranium?” he pleaded. His fatherly advice was welcome and wise.
“This is always the dilemma,” I spoke in a halting, hoarse whisper, “When to start steroids? My peak-flow-meter is up 30-points so I think I’m getting better.” “Wait a minute. Didn’t you just say you slept upright last night, for the first time?” he asked. I nodded silently, resting my vocal chords. “You’re not getting better, you’re getting worse. Start your steroids.”
I never think clearly when asthma flares. My excellent deductive and diagnostic abilities are inversely proportional to mucus production. For this reason Kaiser has a policy contrary to the adage, Physician, heal thyself. Were I my own patient, I would chart: dysphonia, laryngitis in the vernacular.
“I think it’s the propellant in my inhalers,” I said. “This only happens when I’m using my inhalers every three hours.” My physician friends disagreed, shaking their heads, “No, it’s your asthma.” “But I never used to get this way!” I protested. During the last decade my asthma worsened or I am less resistant to its predictable cascade when I entertain a respiratory illness. I say entertain because I am a reliable host for a solid month to a series of sleepless snoozes, the song of sleep deprivation, the dancing bacterial follies, a chorus of antibiotics, and curtain calls to a protracted standing ovation by salvation steroids. That’s entertainment! Emailing one’s doctor daily can purport and support a false sense of wellness. He wasn’t here to hear this… the gurgle so aptly named the death rattle.
Sequential nights of coughing fits interrupted by succumbing sleep had wrung all resistance from me. I fell back to my pillow and closed my eyes. I would wake up in the morning… or I wouldn’t. I would open my eyes to my oak tree appliquéd against the sky… or not. Either was okay and no one would know the difference until I was missing from work. The feeling of apathy, complete and utter apathy was astounding.
I emailed my doc in the morning and requested a visit: This is day 12. I need better meds for cough suppression. I have bilateral subconjunctival hemorrhages from coughing; I look ghastly and feel worse.
Later that morning, he examined my eyes, ringed in vermillion. “You look pretty rough around the edges,” he shook his head. “How long has your voice been gone?” “I think today’s the fifth day.” I proffered my theory of dysphonia secondary to inhaler propellants.
“Not your inhalers,” he disagreed, “It’s caused by inflammation of your entire bronchial tree including your larynx.” He stretched my steroidal course an additional week and prescribed narcotic cough meds. “Maybe you should have someone that you check-in with daily,” my Mother proposed, worried and helpless in her island home two-thousand miles away. I had never been so sick, never mucus-trapped to that degree, it scared me and I said so.
A daily telephone check-in when I’m sick. It’s a sound plan and one I resist, as if it signals the end of an era of independence toward something more… dependent. I hear the longing you have now for a deeper sense of connectedness and interdependence, a friend wrote. Nuh-uh! I have an automatic way of being called: I do by myself. It is the conversation of a two-year-old. Life does not go well when she rules.
In the evolution of man and society, women have never survived independently without a man or tribe. That we do now or think we can… is an illusion. We are pack animals by nature and no different from the days of Christ, we still live in tribes. The two-year-old has grown into a content cave woman. Connectedness and interdependence rise solely in my recognition and disassembly of that which keeps me isolated.
A vu jà-dé presents a jarring opportunity to assess one’s course. I have some years before I am that tiny old woman with protruding ribs, racked by cough, and apathetic to the sunrise. I am 2400 air-miles from my tribe and I am surrounded by kin. I can live alone on the ice flow or join the clan.
Welcome to the human race for the grave, one that perhaps produces something meaningful on its way and in its wake. What we remember with relish in the stillness, solitude and silence of the predawn, within the dim dome of a single bulb, will not be our acquisitions but undoubtedly, those relationships of deeper connectedness and interdependence. The richness of life pre-packaged in meaningful
Apr 24, 2009
A Tennis Tournament
Mar 11, 2009
The Wonderful Experience of Deja Vu
Mar 9, 2009
Caught in a loop?
Feb 14, 2009
Dejavu! Seen It Before
I’m sure most everyone has experienced this phenomenon at one time or another. You know, feeling that you’ve been in a place or met someone before – even though you can’t remember exactly where or when.
The whole notion of Déjà vu is quite captivating, but yet unsettlingly strange. I’ve had that feeling before, but never in Panama and never so strongly as the other day. It happened on my morning walk. I always like going in a different direction each day; exploring new neighborhoods. As I was heading down a never before traveled street, I came upon a house that looked vividly familiar right down to its old Spanish colonial architecture, the shape of its distinctive windows and shutters and its worn earthy terra cotta exterior. I stood motionless starring at the intricately carved front door when suddenly it was opened by a smiling middle-aged woman.
I’m not sure why I stepped forward, but I did. And in doing so, the woman smiled more broadly and asked me how I enjoyed my weekend in Portobello. I was stunned by her question and astonished at her accuracy. How did this perfect stranger know that I had just returned from Portobello the day before? Is she a soothsayer? Or, is this a Déjà vu experience for her?
From my college days, I have always been curious about human instinctive abilities. I learned that Déjà vu is the experience of feeling certain that one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously. Incidentally, it’s quite common among adults and children alike, with 70% of people reporting to having experienced it at least once. It is also associated with psychic abilities such as clairvoyance and extra-sensory perception.
Now, I certainly don’t proclaim to have any telepathic skills, but I do believe in the most recent scientific findings that déjà vu is the memory of dreams – the sense that what you have dreamed is now a relevant present action that is taking place right here right now. Of course there are those who believe in reincarnation and theorize that déjà vu is caused by fragments of past-life memories being jarred to the surface of the mind by familiar surroundings or people.
Feb 13, 2009
Deja Vu Of A Different Kind
Feb 7, 2009
I saw you in my dreams
My fallen child, that I cherish with all my heart; Rest in Peace.
Isn't the human mind amazing?





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