buttony muddle-headed...

I’ve noticed I’ve been addressed as “madam” more frequently now than ever. My age and motherhood must have creased my forehead (some more), sagged my breasts, spotlit flaccid muscles and hardened the supposedly swaying coxa. I may also have gouged it by my “funny” (a student once said) eyes and “commanding” (hopefully not overtopping) voice.

I don’t know how the word “madam” works for you but I only have myself to blame for what it means to me. The pith really is I take “madam” to be kind of insulting sometimes.

When I was still a student, I call a teacher “madam” when she’s either an old maid or old (40s and beyond) and married. And that same manner of address applies to acquaintances and later on to customers when I started working. Obviously, I have come to associate “madam” when the person has an aura of “oldness” in her. Also, this is what I address to pacify customers who are hostile and rude. So count in the aura of “sternness” to the word, too. There goes my slapdash thinking.

Feeling old and wicked, I gave myself a favor and looked up for the definition of the word “madam” by convention. There I found, “madam: a woman of refinement”. Now that’s something, eh? Let me bask in that meaning for now.

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Tea Time

May 8 is my husband’s birthday and so we feted him the whole day. We traveled to Baybay for half an hour; ate delectable barbecue and left the place with (shining) empty skewers in an hour and a half. We were so full that we were surprised to find ourselves home already and hungry again. Hihi.

No pictures. I’ve had enough of camwhoring. Let me just leave this message:

Happy 31^st Birthday, bibi, bibi Buts! :kotc:

Labels: rant