IT'S ALL IN MY MIND!

I'm tagging myself...hehe!!

Thanks to my dearest friend Cristina, who never tagged me! hahah! I first heard about this tagging game going on among video bloggers like Happy Slip and Kevjumba in YouTube. Then i saw cristina's blog about tagging (okay sorry na gaya gaya ako). I didn't realize there's tagging going on too in ordinary blogging. Obviously, i was never tagged! haha! Okay, i know that my blog is still underway and i lost the links of my favorite blogs after my aging laptop died on me. Since I am one conceited girl and i just have to tell something about myself too....I'm pretending that i'm tagged.....I WAS TAGGED...by my best friend! ! So here are 5 weird facts about myself. (Cristina, pretend naman that you tagged me! hehe! i know pathetic talaga my blog and i'm really tamad to fix it...have an assignment to finish...diba? hehe!)

1. On Swimming: I can swim 40 laps in 30 minutes on breast stroke, but could not swim more than 2 laps on freestyle. I can swim in a swimming pool but could not swim in open water without a life vest - i panic. I think of stupid great white sharks severing my legs all the time.

2. On toilets: I HATE toilet seats. I always have this nagging thought that toilet seats are responsible for the foul restroom odor. My toilet seat in my own restroom at home is always up. I like the feeling of the cold ceramic touching my butt when i use the toilet. So whenever my mom would see the toilet seat in our powder room downstairs up, she knows i was the last one to use it.

3. On Food: I like sandwiches, breads, CARBS...well, i probably like processed flour that is - pie crust, bread, tarts..anything that has to do with flour. This is why i love the pie crust more than the pizza itself. Some have the habit of throwing the crust away but i'd rather throw the pizza than the crust. hehe! I like anything spicy. I don't settle for the mild ones - it doesn't work with me. No challenge at all. I like spiciest curry, super hot burrito, Habanero Doritos, basta spicy. If it doesn't make my eyes tear and my nose drip, then it's not good enough.

4. On Being Clean: I am an obsessive compulsive neat freak. My books should be crease free, my highlighters should all have the same shade of yellow (so it's either BIC yellow highlighter or dermatograph, or i can't study), my notes should be in red ink. I don't sit on my bed until i have showered. I hate having stains on my shirt. I shower twice a day AT A MINIMUM - maximum would be 5 times during summer. I hate it when my hair sticks out of place so i have to blowdry my hair everytime before i leave. My car should always be gleaming when parked so it has to be washed everyday. My nails are seldom long - i like it clipped short and kept clean.

5. On Keeping Memories/History in general: I am a keepsake keeper. I like everything personal. The older the better. MEMORIES. It's the history of an object, a place, or a person that matters the most. I keep plane tickets, museum tickets, bus/subway cards and date them. I'd pick a leaf from a tree and press them (i'm proud of a maple leaf i picked from our vacation at Canadian Rockies 10 years ago and still pressed in one of my favorite books). I fix photos in my scrapbook in a manner that it would come across as a story book. In short, anything that's new has no value to me - there isn't much history to tell.

If you think i'm weird, you're probably right cause i think so too But who cares? I have friends who, despite all that i have mentioned above, still love me anyway. Everybody's got some weird stuff going on in their lives. That's what makes every individual different - something out of the norm. As weird as they may, they are what makes me ME - and i'm proud of my imperfections.

PS: Can anyone tag me next time? hehehe! My blog is a mess. I'm really tamad to fix it cause i have so many things going on like books to read, places to go, chika with cristina to finish (i wish! haha!), bonding with my sisters, beauty sleep, vacay again..in short, i have so much in life i have yet to enjoy kulang ang one day!

Confessions of a Jaded New Yorker Wannabe

My memories of new york were that from the eyes of a 12 year old kid. i could still remember connecting the black sticky dots on the dirty pavement of downtown NYC, trying to create a constellation or something (those days i was dreaming of becoming an astronaut more than wanting to be a doctor), only realizing, after my mom's friend told me, nonchalantly, that they were actually chewed gum that stuck to the ground after being spat and stepped on numerous times. I didn't know how to react then - i wanted drown myself in alcohol but didn't want to destroy my shoes. It was disaster. I overreacted but couldn't get over the idea that NYC was everything filthy... but now, with full knowledge of NYC's history (from the movie Gangs of New York haha), and fully aware of the must-see's of the busiest city of America, i come back 16 years later, with one goal in mind - live out the true definition of a New Yorker...in style of course, despite the filth - literally or otherwise.

As i sit here on the cozy couch of my sister Karen's apartment in uptown manhattan, witnessing, for the the first time in my life, snowflakes pouring heavily outside the window (pathetic diba?), with forecast of sleet later in the day; snow covering the entire playground and visibility down to zero, i felt excitement. I am in a city that never sleeps, in a place where i can be a gossip girl, strut like one of the sex in the city ladies, pretend that i know the place where heath ledger died and dismissing it like it was just around the corner, cheer for NY giants even if i couldn't care less that they just won the superbowl in what they would apparently call the greatest game in the history (umm..i dont even know how to watch football..was it football ba? haha), eat NY pizza and cheesecakes, speak english with a swagger of an african american from Harlem or Bronx, pretend that i was so affected by the WTC bombing with tears staining my eyes, and chew and spit  gum on the ground - not caring if some 12 year kid would try to connect the gum i just spat out to a constellation she was trying to create. I am a jaded New yorker...wannabe...

My first day in new york, i gave my sister a headache. I told her i wanted to ride the famed subway that had been a target by god knows whatever. I told her, in my most arrogant voice, with the african american swagger that my brother taught be before i left manila, "Yo, i'm riding that subway to times square on my own...you know what im saying?!" hahah! With eyes so wide, she gave me the weirdest look, like i grew another head or something. I'm the last person to ride a public transportation alone. I'm stupid. I get lost despite the map. it didn't help that the subway i always had in mind was spot clean, was actually filthy, wreaking with dried urine and canal water, and with rats as big as cats running around. It was hell. If it wasn't for the experience, and my stupid arrogance of living out the "i'm a new yorker...yeah baby!", i wouldn't even attempt to try to experience riding their MTA. But as i said, got to have the experience...before the bragging rights.

I survived the subway after being squished between two giant men in dreadlocks and earphones blasting the tunes of Sean Paul while their heads were bobbing in and out like ducks. It was one thing to deal with jologs back home. It's another thing to deal with...i don't even know what to call them...hippies? I dunno...well more like i didn't wanna waste my time trying to figure out what to call them. I'm just too caught up with the idea of being in times square - the heart of NYC.

Times Square. Broadway Avenue. 42nd street. A place where everybody wants to be in, where everybody wants to be somebody. It's the ultimate playground for the adults. The lights are on 24/7, and everyday feels like friday. I was strolling, literally, along the 42nd street, in the sea of rushing new yorkers, unmindful of the loud grunts and jeers for me to walk faster - i was simply too engrossed looking at the bright lights, like a kid visiting the disneyworld for the first time. I would ask my sister to take a photo of me everywhere. So much for the new yorker attitude. i turned probinsyana in 1 day. "karen picture mo ako here...dito din! teka teka wait, u have to take my picture when the budweiser beer comes on the screen of times square." I drove her crazy. She wanted to throttle me right that instant, but also couldn't stifle a laugh. Being the good sister that she is, she did indulge me eventually by taking my photo on every corner, as stupid as we might have probably appeared. I really didn't care anymore. I just wanted to have fun...with all the documentations of course. That's how i am - an obsessive compulsive keepsake keeper.

Ahh...travelling. It's food for my soul - probably because i could just blend in the background, and watch everything unfold in front of me, like watching broadway. Being in a foreign place where my identity (and my color, appearance, heritage, social status, etc) matters to no one, where i can act stupidly and just laugh at myself; where the opinions of the people don't really matter; where my life is not confined to the restrictions that has me chained at the neck by what i would have to call traditions that i have to stick to, being born to the situation that i live in; where i can be somebody i'm not. I would always camouflage as a local, act like them and enjoy the way people would react to me. It's always a game i love to play. It feeds my spirit.

I plan to write a series of blogs while staying here in NY, just to share my thoughts. I got this inspiration from happyslip of course, but couldn't videoblog (i'm too shy for it). For now, I'd like to end this blog by sharing with you the stupidest thing that i've heard somebody shout on the streets on this wintry cold day in uptown manhattan. "yeah! i ain't going to work today cause i'm working from home. yeah. Work from home. Cause i have a laptop that connects me to the office. yeah. laptop."  Do u have to go shouting to everyone that you have a laptop? What was that all about?!?! hahaha! go figure!

Say 'i love you' without saying it

The occasion calls for it. (what with valentines day only 2 days away). It’s probably high time that I introduce this most important being in my life; my one true love. His name is Mylo, and he’s the sweetest, cutest, most adorable love of my life.

The tiny streaks of the sun’s rays were just starting to peek from the gray clouds of the night. The cool mist of the previous night’s breeze still suspended in the air; the mild scent of dawn lingering. It was early morning. New year in the lunar calendar; and my baby, Mylo, was going berserk trying to tear his crib down, so excited to eat, run, play around, and get away from his house and go crazy. It’s his routine. It would always drive me nuts. For an early riser like me, he’s up even earlier – at an ungodly hour of 5am.

     A lot of famous celebrities would have pets dolled up in the most glamorous ways that I would often doubt if they even scoop their cutie little doggie babies’ poop and wipe its butt after. Having a pet (well, it doesn’t sit well with me to call my baby a pet), is high maintenance. But it was never a chore for me.

     It took me 4 months or so to find the perfect baby to take home. I read tons of ‘puppy 101’ books, went to different breeders, watched dog whisperer on animal planet over and over (while running on treadmill of course), and even obsessed about the jack Russell terrier in the Alpo commercial. I wanted a baby that’s cuddly and sweet, and loyal ONLY TO ME. I wanted a big male dog that has the temperament of a beast but would answer to my call with a wagging tail and a big wet kiss on my cheek. So that pretty much discarded shih tzu, yorkie, bichon frise, Labrador retriever, and all the other famous breeds that we often see on tv. And so came my chowchow, Mylo.

     I got his name from an old soap (sunset beach if anybody ever saw it-around early 90’s) that I used to be addicted to (diba sheri? Hahaha!). It was initially MILO but this groomer from the veterinary clinic would always call him Mee-lo, Mee-lo and it irritated me tremendously, so I had to alter the spelling a bit to make sure they call my baby right. So I ended up with Mylo.

     Wherever we go, we’d always hear oooohs and aaaahhs following us. A lot of times, we would be stopped to have his picture taken by total strangers (minsan kasama ako so kelangan pretty din ako when walking him hehe!). Everybody loves Mylo. They go crazy over him. “he’s just like a live teddy bear!” “Can we touch him?” “How old is he?” “Ohhh, he’s soooo adorable!” EXACTLY the way I wanted it – people going crazy over him, but could never get near him cause he has a bad temper and would only answer to me. So, I would often tell them, with the nicest sweetest smile, and a few kisses on Mylo’s head (I often do this in the vet clinic), “touch him at your own risk”.

     LOYALTY.  Just like any other relationships, (human, that is, hehehe!!) loyalty tops my list of relationship essentials. While it may be easy to connect, and to fall for any human being, just like the way we may fall for the cutest shih tzu, or the sweetest Labrador, there is not enough ground to start a relationship that could stand the test of time, or trials that could weather a connection that has been carefully built, without this secret ingredient. Loyalty is hard-earned; not just handed on a silver platter. Without this, everything will just be a waste of time.

     It took a lot of bath time before Mylo would have me clean his ears, clip and file his nails, touch his tail, and forcible open his mouth to take the newspaper he loves to chew, out of his mouth. It took 2 weeks worth of giving him his favorite treats (it was wheat bread then, pero ngayon sawa na siya) for him to finally sit still while he lets me tie his bib around his neck before eating. It took me 1 month of persuading him, with my sweeeetest voice, saying “lie down Mylo….good boy!” before he’d quietly lie on his side and let me brush the day’s worth of tangles out of his baby soft hair. And in all those times, I’ve met frustrations and even doubts, as to whether I did make the right decision to get a baby to love deeply, knowing he wouldn’t really be around for more than a decade with me. I’ve wiped his pee off our floor countless times before he finally learned to pee on a wee pad. He’d pull my jammies every morning, steal my slippers, nip my ankle, and literally pounce on me with his heavy body just to demand that I feed him not a second less. And with all the investments I made on him, time, sweat, frustrations (Especialy when he turned bratty na talaga at naghunger strike when I started him on solid food!), I only earned one thing….loyalty. And it’s probably enough. We’ve built a relationship that has sturdy foundation that no amount of bribing (even of treats) could destroy. That’s my baby Mylo. He only answers to me. =)

     We do not have to listen to different support groups, or cry over sad love stories, or listen to how people lament on their lost love through tormented love songs to know that love is not something you give easily. Love, in general, is earned; then it grows deep with each difficulty that you both share and surpass. Love is not something you say on an everyday basis, but something you make others feel with every deed you do. Mylo didn’t need words to say but I know he loves me with his life; and I would always watch him sleep in front of the electric fan before I go to sleep, touch his head and kiss him goodnight. He knows that I love him too without understanding the words ‘I love you'..

     So what am I doing here romanticizing my relationship with my 16 weeker now 25 pounder baby? Wala lang. The whole point is for everybody to know and learn that although human relationships are a lot complicated, as long as you speak with your heart, and you connect with your soul, there is no need to say ‘I love you’. You just FEEL.

 
Mylo wishes to greet my blog readers a happy valentine’s day!

Blogging on blogs about life

    I find myself enjoying a lot of free time to spend with whatever, while my friends cram for the MLE’s. (Goodluck blockmates! Sa mga nagtataka, and this may come as a shocker I know so I’m officially announcing it, I’m skipping MLE’s altogether na to make way for more family time, our business, and more vacay of course!) I recently left my job so I could go vacay again soon, and skipped a week of cardio workout to nurse a bad lower back and weak respiratory tract. I have been keeping myself busy of late with my 15 weeker 22 pounder very demanding – demanding lots of hugs and kisses! Cutie kasi eh hehe! - baby Mylo, cooking dinner (some task my mom forced me into kasi I’m a terrible cook daw), spending warm afternoons having tea and cakes with friends, watching happyslip videos and laughing, and of course browsing blogs. I have been trying to transfer to a more extensive blogsite so I could include ‘feel good’ pictures with my posts, but am halfhearted about leaving my friendster blog fanbase (naks feeling! Pero sorry, no more messaging muna please). So, dito muna sa friendster if I’m not writing/doodling in some page of journal.

     Some blogs would talk about love lost, or hang ups from a lost relationship, or relationships without closure under the guise of anonymity – anonymity under the pronoun ‘HIM” or “HER”. Relationships whether romantic or just plain friendship, would always be a part of girl talk – I am always guilty of this too. It’s part of being a girl – trying to crack people’s way of thinking by trying to put herself in his/her shoes, not realizing that, you know, each individual’s belief or manner of thinking, for that matter, is a summation of how he/she was brought up. Therefore, in conclusion to everything I have been saying from the start of this blog, each individual’s mind is simply uncrackable. Thus, we (especially my friend cristina, and my blockmates too namely Pampie and Robin!!) would always end up doing role playings in our conversations and just have a good time laughing our hearts out pretending we are the certain “HIM or “HER”.

 Relationships come and go. Some stay for keeps, while others may come by, make you feel good, but may not stay long. It’s an accepted fact. Some friendships may kick off well but only to end with a bitter taste in your mouth. It could be from betrayal, dishonesty, envy, or some nasty girl competition that I could not and would not even try to comprehend. It’s perfectly normal and part of life we have to deal. People may come into your life in different packages – some nicely wrapped in pretty packages, but empty inside, some not as nicely wrapped but is a true gemstone within, some, if you’re lucky, are true gemstones in best packages…and these people, as I would often refer to in my previous posts, are my soulmates; and I always believe that soulmates transcended through past lives to try to work a relationship with the present one. I have a thing with soulmates – it is a connection that you do not try to start cracking – you just feel. And these people, you know are for keeps.

     I live in an idealistic world where happiness means true joy of the heart; where love is shared with family and friends and my baby of course (baka maghunger strike again if hindi siya kasali), where afternoon tea is spent with a warm, feel good smile that would last long after we’ve (usually this one with cristina talaga…db cristina?) parted, and where dealings with strangers are not of mind games and manipulations but of trying to find a true connection. I refuse to accept the fact that life is not as simple as yes or no. I am not as jaded as I thought I was. Stupid as I think I am, the corrupt world hasn’t touchbased with my soul.

     As I deducted another year from my timeline yesterday – another less year to live, I thought it would bring me a year closer to my next life beyond this present one that I am living in. As I was driving to Gourmand to have my birthday dinner with my favorite companion cristina, I couldn’t fight the urge to look back (it has been a habit of mine to try to look back at the exact date last year) at all the good things that has happened to me from the time I celebrated my previous birthday to yesterday. I have met a lot of people that really touched my heart deep, helped me grow as a person, and helped me breeze through my struggle to get my life back – my life that I left when I decided to take up medicine that is.  While my life may not be a perfect one, it is as close to perfect as I wanted it to be.

     My blog/friendster is always a dedication to my friends, my family, and everyone who wants to feel good while visiting my friendster site. This particular blog I dedicate to my family – my sister Karen in New York whom I miss a lot, my baby Mylo (I have yet to share something about him para hindi maghunger strike ulit), my friends and people closest to my heart next to my sisters – kyla and cristina, my blockmates vany, paulette, pampie, robin, mommy apple, rhiz!!! Naku miss na kita rhiz!, james, and will (what’s up with you na?!?!), Manggy who’s so tiaga to post a comment on my blog, mga blog readers who would always send me messages kasi ayaw magcomment (sorry, I have to turn my messaging off kasi madami nang magulo), people who greeted me on my birthday – thank you so much I really appreciated the texts and calls, Eric who greeted me first, thanks so much, and my HS friends (sorry I know I’m in hiding again). Lots of love to all of you (now I feel like a movie star haha! Thanking everyone sa blog). Thanks for reading!

Gym Party

 Mondays are such a drag; but January Mondays are the worst – forcing yourself to wake early just when the cool January breeze starts to drug you, and of course, the chore of shedding unwanted pounds collected over the weekend, on top of the holiday fats you have yet to START burning. I’m just so lucky to be enjoying the very domestic life of managing a household in my mom’s stead when my counterparts are cramming for another exam – an option I had consciously trashed when I started enjoying the pure bliss of running on, this time, treadmill number 11, that I couldn’t care less if the world wakes up with its eyes half closed, wishing they were still in some holiday. (I am on holiday indefinitely)

  Gym Mondays, regardless of the month, are my favorite. I would like to describe it as something similar to a carnival in Rio.I have had months of gym Monday observations that I can now write/share about.   

     As I would fondly sit on the stationary bike for warm ups, watching the people coming and going, I have successfully classified them into 3 different groups quite similar to high school. There are whom I would have to call the Socialites, otherwise known as the flirts – people (mostly ladies) coming in all made up, perfumes strong enough to clog my poor little nose, running on treadmill with hair down, and barely perspiring even after a good 3 to 4 hours of “workout”. These people, I don’t even know what their business are but they are obviously taking up unwanted space. And then, there are the Wannabe’s. The wannabe’s are people (again mostly ladies), who obviously had no right to flirt, either because they’re too old for the game, or too “mediocre” to be noticed. But just the same, they still flirt, not mindful of how stupid they look. Lastly, there would be the Antisocials. The antisocials have a world of their own – they stick to their program as though their life depended on it. They mean business.

     It was early gym Monday. I was looking forward to it with a big smile on my face. As I picked my favorite spot of stationary bike number 1, anticipating the show about to unfold before me, I couldn’t hide my excitement. It was supposed to be the constellation of all 3 classes of gym regulars. It was going to be pure entertainment. Not long, flirt number 1 came in, pompom skirts, fitted shirt, heavy make up, red lipstick, hair down, smelling like somebody about to go to a party…and oh! The stockings too I might add!. I gave her credit for the amount of time she needed to get prepared like the way she came. She would always greet everyone with the widest smile similar to that of a campaigning politician about to step on her motorcade, only this time, the motorcade would have to be the treadmill. Then came Wannabe number 1. You see, wannabe number 1 is my favorite cause each time I see her, I never fail to cringe inside. This time, she had bright pink thong on top of her leggings. As she came strutting inside, mindless of (or probably loving) the people staring at her, she proceeded to working her way towards the aerobics class. Then came Flirt number 2, in her ever so fitting top that would almost make her bosom spill out – not to mention of course, the make up, the hair, and thong peaking out her pants. Flirt number 2 is my constant treadmill neighbor; well more like she would always get my time slot. Wannabe number 2 is late again. Wannabe number 2 is this guy who would always come in the tightest shirt and shorts he could ever wear. I have absolutely no objections to his attire. But he’s got this major BO problem he probably doesn’t even know about. And then my comrades, the batch of the antisocials – all 3 of them would come almost always at the same time. They mean serious treadmill business. Their arrival would be my go signal to start racing towards treadmill number 11, before anyone of them gets on it for a good hour or so…and rob me of my precious bonding time with my favorite machine.

     I hate having flirt number 2 as a treadmill neighbor – I’m always concerned about her bosom popping out of her top while she desperately try to keep it from moving while on the treadmill. It distracts me. On the other hand, having any of the antisocials beside me would feel like a race. One would have the habit of peeking at my meter, and then turning hers up. She’s probably the reason why I could run 10kph on a grade 4 incline. It was an unspoken competition. Though I hated it, I never back down. Heheh! She doesn’t have the stamina to sustain it anyway. The other would perspire like crazy that having him as a treadmill neighbor would mean spatters of sweat on me! But overall, they are nice people.

     Ahhh….the gym. It’s one place next to heaven, despite all the twisted entertainments. The treadmill is my life; it is where I can forget about my problems and set my mind free to wander, think crazy possibilities, daydream, pretend i’m somebody I’m not, and just feel good about myself. Most importantly, the treadmill would almost always replace the adrenaline rush I have decided to abandon when I left PGH. Diffferent people may have different reasons for hitting the gym. Whatever they are, they have given me entertainment….and of course some entertainment for my readers too.

TIME (Cristina, this is for you)

    9 years of ‘simple’ (or jologs, rather) life to get an MD degree, 1 hour of running to burn 600 calories and 30 minutes of crosstraining to burn another 350 calories more, 5 times a week; a whole afternoon to prepare sushi with only cucumber and magoes within, only to realize that I forgot to put the japanese mayo in; 2 hours worth of bath/grooming my baby mylo, only to get soiled 1 hour after with poop; going to simbang gabi 2 nights straight, only to crash on the third night after playing hide and seek with Mylo prior to sleeping; but it only took less than an hour to finally connect with another soul– and thus I write about my dearest and most wonderful friend – Cristina.

     It must be the christmas fever, what with “chestnuts roasting on an open fire…lalala” ( I forgot the title) playing on background, but today, time once again stood still as I spent my entire Saturday with another one of my ever favorite things to do – fill up my soul with a ‘feel good’ lunch with the warmest company. 3 hours approximately, worth of telebabad around 2-3 times a week could not sustain the tons of stories that just had to be shared. Stories told, no matter how many times over, would still be good to hear – especially when time has become a luxury for me.

     It has been almost 2 months since I last found inspiration to write yet another blog for my readers (na hindi ko naman kilala but would always drop me a message-thank you) to read. My mind has been clouded with things that has gained me wrinkles one too many, that I momentarily failed to take a step back and look at my life “at a bigger picture” (my friend kyla’s favorite line to say)  and just appreciate the simple things I often find joy in, and of course, write about. Sometimes, we do get into these tiny little traps in life that we put our lives on autopilot, and thus, put to waste the everyday moments that we could have been spending with the people we love. We always take for granted TIME, as we enjoy the benefit of knowing that there will be tomorrow, and the day after, and probably like many years after, to make up for it – the CHANCE that we often think that time is on our side.

 I often write about the people who affect me profoundly in my journals but today, I post this journal entry on my blog as I acknowledge one of the greatest things that has been given to me – friendship that deserves to be celebrated. This blog I dedicate to my soulmate Cristina – a lady with a big heart, and the warmest smile despite the wicked laugh. She throws dagger comments but has only the sweetest things to say to me and to her dearest loved ones.

     I would often go back to quotes that I encounter from novels I love to read, or lyrics from the favorite songs I often sing. They capture the essence of my feelings and wrap it in a perfect line that strikes deep in my heart. (senti no?) I would like to share with my readers a few lines that I have sent to my dearest friends Kyla and Cristina from my favorite song, What a Wonderful World.

 The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people passing by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, "How do you do?"
They're really saying, I...I love you
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,
They'll learn much more
Than we'll know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

     Everyday may not be as good as the previous one. But it all depends on what you make out of it. As much as I can, I try to live out every day as if tomorrow will be luxury. TIME’s loyalty, as I have learned in medical school, is fickle. Friends, or as I would often call it, souls that I have connected with, are life’s greatest gifts; and life doesn’t have to be hard. The hardest part of living it is finding your lifelong friends; and I am just lucky to be gifted with them.

Merry Merry Christmas everyone.

 

 

 

When Being Somebody Doesn't Really Matter

    As I happily lips-synced Beyonce’s song, Irreplaceable, while on the crosstrainer earlier today, an old lady, with hair all teased up high, glasses so big that it looked like from eons ago, and wrinkles covering most of her face, grumpily “requested” me to move out of the machine, while showing me the sign up sheet that she was reserved for the 5pm slot, on machine #2. Her name boldly written: DR. EMMA. It piqued my ire and I couldn’t stop myself from making a disgusted face as I reluctantly stepped off and transferred to the next machine. What’s up with the DOCTOR Emma?! For god’s sake I am a doctor too! Do I have to tell everybody that I am one?!

     One of the biggest annoyance that never fail to irk me is when I see doctors wear white coats to the mall, scrub attire to the restaurants, or as what just happened, try to assert authority by writing down their degree in totally inappropriate places such as, well, the gym for example. LABELS: Dr., Atty, Engr, Manager, accountant, congressman, etc. It gives a false sense of authority, a self proclaimed glory, and by that, a ticket to talk down (I am guilty of this sometimes hehe), look down, and pretend that the mighty being had just afforded them the highest human status ever to exist – to lord over the so called commoners. Unfortunately, this always happens. I am not saying am not guilty of this cause at times, especially when I’m reckless on road, I always get away with it. It probably just doesn’t sit well with me when I’m on the receiving end of it hehehe!

     Being Somebody is one thing. After all, 5 years of crap in medical school, or how many years in law school, or climbing the corporate ladder, is a fact that is hard to discount. But being a ‘nobody’ is just as good. A person couldn’t be measured by the number of times he graduated since nursery (I counted mine – 6 times ako naggraduate haha), or the number of diplomas covering the wall of his room. Cause in the end, what truly matters is when you have become a somebody for someone – be it a patient, a lover, a sister, or a friend, regardless of social, financial or educational status.

     I have come to appreciate the way I have matured from a girl who wanted her name to have it all (MD, PhD, etc), to just plain simple, but appreciative of every single person that has affected my life, one way or another. 9 years of UP culture had taught me to appreciate that housewives are the true heroes in the family, and thus, my mom, is probably one of the best persons in my life. Looking through people, and seeing through their labels, and connecting with the true person inside, is always gratifying. Kyla, despite being a kikay doctor that she is, has always been the ‘bestest’ kikay pal and life instructor of my life that I have become dependent on her on almost every predicament coming my way of late. My newest, dearest friend Cristina, (cristina, if you’re reading this, I always tell you how much I truly appreciate you coming into my life), a kikay ballerina, has forever been making me smile even when I’m going through the rotten days of my life. My blockmates, each one of them, has seen through (or I would like to believe) my suplada façade and has come to accept that I try so hard to be jologs too at times (at least I am trying). Every person, no matter how high they are, status wise, will just be a sister/brother/child when he comes home, a friend (if he truly is ah) when he goes out with his friends or a confidant to a crying friend, or maybe an inspiration to somebody they love.

     I had a patient, bedridden for 12 years, couldn’t even move an extremity, couldn’t even recognize anybody, but with a loving family surrounding her. My resident had told me to start dropping hints of the possibility of a DNR order (do not resuscitate). The family refused of course. Why? Because this patient, was every bit the mother that she was. It broke my heart to see her code and get revived (aside from the fact that it dragged on like that for the whole month of my med rotation na code ng code that I am forever endorsing her). But I guess, when you have lived and become somebody for someone, then your life has served its purpose. I always believe that a person, cannot be living for himself and basking in his own glory. In the end, it doesn’t really matter anymore.

     I would like to share a part of this poem written to me by a friend recently. I have always looked back and thought of how fortunate I am to have the love I have gotten from my friends and family. I never fail to remind my friends how happy I am to have them. Try it. It feels good. =)

                Sometimes people come into your life
                and you know right away,
                that they were meant to be there...
                to serve some sort of purpose,
                teach you a lesson
                or help you figure out who you are
                or who you want to become.

 The challenge now is, have you already become a Somebody for Someone? We have a lifetime to learn. =)

 

Manic Monday

    I woke with a start - it’s 730am! I’m NEVER ever late but today, the blasting sounds of my alarm clock failed to wake me up. I woke 30 minutes before I’m suppose to report, on my first official day at work. I had nobody to blame but myself, as I had once again, chatted with my dear friend Cristina, until the wee hours of the morning. (It is a hopeless addiction talaga!) I showered, quickly got dressed, and literally drank my oats from the bowl and ate a big banana in 3 bites. I got into the car in slippers before realizing it and had to hurry back to change into my shoes. It is Manic Monday!

     The celtic soul music I’ve come to love wasn’t helping to calm my nerves so I had to switch to the AM news on radio. I was at the edge of my seat, and was trying to keep myself from blaring the horns of my car to speed the traffic up. I was so exasperated when I found that the traffic was extending all the way from the bottom of the old sta. mesa bridge to the end of quirino highway. That is like a whole 2 km or so of pure shit! After holiday rush hour traffic is the worst ever!

 I finally got to PGH 2 hours late, parked the car haphazardly (and tried to escape the guard hehe), and was fumbling for my ID in my bag - I left it at home. I have never been so out of control in my whole life but today, I just had to laugh at myself. I think I have yet to start priming myself to live the life I left 6 months ago – the life of pure adrenaline rush.

 I welcomed the thought, and the feeling of finally having something worthwhile to do. I love being in control – and being in control is being in an oh-so-familiar place, doing the stuff I’m so used to do, and where I’m best at – a thinking machine!

 Everybody was still on a holdover from the long holiday that by lunchtime, everybody was so ready to bolt out of the door. I’ve never felt this good in a long long while. So, just to make myself smile the whole day I treated myself to the simple things I’ve come to love. I bought my dearest pal kyla some pretzels for her duty, (actually, I wanted them for myself but couldn’t bring myself to eat cause I’m trying to shed off my holiday fats so siya nalang!), and made chika while she was on labor watch. Hehe! It was so funny cause I think we got carried over with our chismis that I had to kulit her back kasi the mother might be giving birth already and she still doesn’t know. Then I treated myself with Mcflurry M&Ms but had to eat it at home kaya it was almost like a milkshake when I got back. (I cant eat it or I might have diarrhea on the way home – I’m severely lactose intolerant– sad diba?) But I really enjoyed it even if I had to drink it instead of scooping it out. Today proved to be so insanely insane but I just had to laugh it all out.

     Last stop was the gym. I just had to treat myself to a good run on the treadmill, to keep my adrenaline rush going. Gym is like my second home and the treadmill is my oasis. No amount of health risk can pull me away from this addiction because I’m really stubborn about it. (try me!) Today, I spent a whole hour on the treadmill without gasping. It was heaven. (well, not as much as I still have to work on upping my speed again). =) 

    Manic Mondays. Although I swear on my soul that I’m never as, how should I call it, undisciplined? as today, sometimes it does happen. As I said, and despite the mania, I have never felt this good in a very long time. Tomorrow, I’d probably do it right, just the way I am used to. Be in control.

 

 Kyla dearest, I hope you enjoyed my pretzels! It was fat free! Promise!

Christmas Karols

I look forward to writing about my christmas, as a sequel to my Five Star Christmas, but found myself too excited to even wait for a christmas story to share. Christmas is a season our family would always anticipate. Christmas tree would be put up as early as the Ber months and would carry on until late January. But ironically, Christmas is seldom spent at home.

  Yesterday, I once again killed time chatting with my very dear friend Cristina. It has become an addiction I can’t (and obviously don’t want to) kick, but a good one at that, that I totally forgot about the 4 lovely ladies whose faces I would only see when they come to decorate our house (and transform it magically to a wonderful christmas home that we seldom get to enjoy on christmas day itself). Such is what happened that I was caught by surprise when I emerged out of my room, for a dinner BREAK from chatting. Hehe! Christmas is 2 months away nalang pala.

  This year, christmas will be bittersweet. Our family has probably come to that point where our lives are no longer ours only to share with. As much as I anticipate my sister coming home from New York, I dread the idea of my achie spending her last christmas with us. That is probably why this year, holiday will be where it should have been spent a long time ago – here at home.

  I realized that I must have a bad separation anxiety problem – almost just like a kid, wanting to be happy and smiling always and spending these happy moments with the people they care very much for. I have been under Pavlovian conditioning far long that I find missing people even before they’re gone. I dread the idea of my patients dying even if they have a good year to live still. I absorb negative feelings even before they happen. I am a hopeless idealist, in other words. A happy sponge as I would call it. Others’ happiness fills my happy sponge – and turns me into a happy little kid.

  I am excited to bring home a baby – dog - soon (still looking for the perfect one though). It will probably be my best christmas gift ever, not because it’s cute or what but probably because it can fill the gap that my sisters would probably leave when they’re gone. I think I’m still stuck in my own warp zone to figure out how to live my own life as well. Medicine, having just taken away a good chunk of my life, and quality time with my family, is finally taking its toll on my happy little spirit, that I find myself resisting the urge to want to regret it. The life of doctors are just…how should I put it….self sacrificing that it is beyond me. I salute every doctor there is in this planet.

  My life is a bunch of twisted ironies. It is my favorite thing to say to sum up the person that is ME. But whatever comes after this Christmas, is something I would have to deal. For now, my Christmas would definitely be better than my last year’s.

 

My idea of fun (blockmates and kyla dearest, this one is for you)

   I found myself sitting on a stool, chatting a good 2 hours of my morning with Kuya Bong, the mananahi altering my newly bought pair of jeans (plug ko lang yung place niya, fit fetish in connecticut st. in greenhills. He makes my jeans look so brand new and unaltered even if he takes like a good length off it kasi I’m just too small for the jeans I buy), and enjoying his stories about his kids and wife. I was actually on my way to the gym and thought of dropping my jeans off, but ended up making chika and skipping gym altogether. I am so hopelessly a chikadora. But may I just emphasize the point that it wasn’t for the discount that he gave me (though i get discounts just by doing chika with him and Ate Len), but more like i missed the simple stories of life that can only be told by simple people living simply. I think I might have had too much of the good life I’m trying to get back that I have overlooked these simplicities that I truly think I enjoy far more.

     I felt that it was a start of a good weekend for me. No amount of mall bombing could probably dampen my spirits as I have sworn to make my weekend a happy one. Weekends always perk my spirit up – I get to see my friends, and most importantly, share quality time with my brother and sister (and sleepover in her room too! Hehe). It is what I love to do so much – kill time over lunch, coffee, and spill some more stories over dinner, until I’m too tired from laughing and feeling good. Then I come home with a smile that reaches my soul – the perfect way to end my week, and forget the tiniest reasons that made me cry.

 A good musing, over a long hot bath, after a night out with friends, had made me realize the difference of my world over theirs. Asked about my idea of fun, I would probably say that fun would be to share stories/experiences over meals – very high school-ish when you look at it, but the depth of the relationship of souls shared would probably surpass even the strongest kick that a good alcohol could provide. I must admit, I had probably lived a life so reclusive that I don’t even know how a bar looks like, or cigarette or an alcohol taste like, but where people excel in their ideas of fun, I can proudly say that I have lived the life of people from different spectrum of our society. And such is truly a life lived, and fulfilled, in my definition at least.

 Sometimes, I wonder if the mighty being made a mistake when he gave me a comfortable life that I find very difficult to live. It is just the greatest irony of life. As much as I want to party on a weekend, I end up enjoying chatting the night away with friends. As much as I want to do mindless shopping, I find myself looking for a café to read or, again, chat with friends. Finding connections with different souls feeds mine. And this probably keeps me surviving, despite all the idealism in life that I fight so hard to believe in. 

     My mind has been restless of late – probably from lack of mind stimulation only medicine can bring. My hands are so perfectly clean, that I find myself missing the days when I panic after finding the ER faucet waterless (and with my hands bloodsoaked). But my spirit has never felt peace the way it is refilling itself with weekend after weekend of feel good experiences only friends and family, or even ordinary people such as Ate pearl, my good friend nurse from Ohio, or Kuya Bong, the mananahi, could bring. I have seen how life could be grim and fierce when it tries to exact on people not even deserving, and I have realized that life has always been gentle on me, despite all the restrictions, health or otherwise, it imposes. Cliché as it may sound, I have come to truly appreciate this greatest irony of my life.

     If asked, once again, what is my idea of fun? Fun probably for me would not be as exhilarating as a bungy jump over Kawaru in Queenstown NZ, or a smoke of a good Cuban cigar. Fun, as I would repeat it is enjoying my life experiences (and stupidities) and living to share it with people interested in listening. Everyday is a life lived, and a lesson learned.

 Kyla, dearest, this blog is for you. I enjoyed our weekend together. I love you so so much. Thank you for all your chika. My blockmates, promise get together ulit tayo soon. Ako mag organize ha?