The Manifestations of a Kuntaw Practitioner

The following post is not for my regular readers. Sorry guys. :)

I received an email the other day. It was from Kuntaw practitioner Michael M. Tuscano, who liked my father was irregularly and unfairly stripped off his ranks. by Kuntaw Grandmaster Carlito A. Lañada. He wanted to express his thoughts with regard to what happened and he deemed it appropriate to be posted online for everyone to read. I applaud him for his decision.

Below is his email to me -

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Dear Tinapay

I just realized it has been six years now.
Thanks for being my friend.
You are one of the good things that came out of working in that blasted company. :)

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The Story of Paige's Playmate

Paige has adopted this little boy from the neighborhood. We call him her boyfriend. Of course, it's a freaking joke because the idea creeps me out. NO WAY JOSE.

Anyway, Paige has a cold and so does this little boy.

Earlier, I was giving paige her cough meds and this little boy kept coughing in front of my face. He kept saying, "may sipon man po ako".

Instead of giving him a dose of Paige's meds, I glared at him and said him, "Mayo kang sipon!" - which was ironic considering the fact that mucus was creeping out of his nose.

I'm horrid, I know.

He eats breakfast here too, so he gets a bowl of Paige's cereals every morning. I don't know what's wrong with me today because I usually do give him his own bowl with generous heaping of the cereals, but today, I decided to make him eat "dilis" with rice while paige was having her cereals.

Cruel. cruel.

I tried to assuage my angry conscience by giving him a glass of pineapple juice. There, I said. I'm kind.
Sheesh.

I'm usually very kind, but sometimes I can be such a heartless person.

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The Ramblings of a Pregnant Woman

I had a weird dream.

I dreamt that I was wearing a pink nightie. 

Interesting, you might say. 

Probably, if I was not wearing it while jogging in front of SM at 3 o'clock in the morning. Albeit, that's weird.  Here's the even weirder part, I was jogging with this guy from that L-ray's TV ad. You know, that guy from "L-Ray 25,000 newly married couple" campaign. That guy with really huge teeth and even bigger gums. Yes, that guy. I was jogging with him. F****ng weird, I know.

Anyway, as the dream progressed, I saw four high school classmates, which is weird since I am not even on speaking terms with two of them. Anyway, they kept giggling which I think is a natural reaction to my "unusual" jogging attire. And then I saw my High School crush.

Now, the effing nightie is making sense.

I approached the Crush and started talking to him.  He opened his mouth and started speaking Italian. By this time, I was already aware of the absurdity of my dream, and I can feel my urinary bladder screaming for help.

I slowly awakened to consciousness and I could hear Erbe talking in his sleep, "Ay masiramun man."

Oh, well, I thought, my husband is having fun in his dream at least.

And then I hurried to the bathroom to relieve my bladder.

That's just about it.  

I haven't been blogging, I am sorry about that.  I am so bored with myself and I am consumed with my pregnancy that I have no room for anything else in my head.  I am literally vomiting 24/7.  Like right now, while writing this, I am struggling not to give in to this incredible urge to rush to the bathroom and vomit what little I have in my stomach.

I am afraid that the baby is not receiving enough nutrients.  I am losing weight which is a good thing if I were not pregnant. Fuck.  I cannot eat more than a few spoons or I'll vomit. I cannot eat anything that doesn't smell or look good to me or I'll vomit. I can't eat anything with oil or I'll vomit.  I cannot eat something more than three times or  I'll vomit it out.  For instance, I do not like the look, smell and taste of eggs. I am short of food options.  On top of that, I am constantly crying over everything! I am an effing crybaby. And people irritate the hell out of me, so I keep ignoring them.

Okay, I'm complaining again. I said I wouldn't and I'll take this all in a stride.  It's just that I'm suffering and the suffering consumes me.

I was not even supposed to be pregnant.  You see, I have severe menstrual irregularity. I thought I couldn't get pregnant.  So, I believe this baby is a miracle.  But if I can have my way, this is going to be the last time I'd get pregnant even if I do Erbe's vasectomy myself. :)

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Pregnancy Complains

I am suffering. Literally suffering. Let me see -

constant nausea
24/7 vomiting
everything tastes like crap
everything tastes like crap
indigestion, burping and farting


check.check.check.check.check.

That's it. I am literally in hell.

Biggs burger, chicken joy, chocolate cake, chocolates - things I love - make me want to vomit. There are only five things that I can stomach eating - boiled egg, skyflakes, pork barbecue, steamed siopao and indian mango. other than that, I vomit.

I am literally vomiting hour after hour after hour.

The thing is I did not experience these things when I was pregnant with Paige. Sure, things smelled and tasted different, but I can manage a bite every now and then. I was not retching every 30 minutes. I am not having fun. And I also cry at the drop of a hat.

Earlier, I cried uncontrollably for about 5 minutes when Erbe took his own sweet time getting up. I was craving for indian mango. I cried louder when Paige tried to console me. It was funny. Must have been the freaking hormones.

Oh, well.

Here's my ultrasound. It's a 6-week ultrasound of the baby. It has fairly strong heartbeat. I am really hoping it's a boy. Of course, I don't mind if it's a girl as well.

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Rip Van Winkle

I'm trying to be happy. Pregnant women should be happy, but I am effing miserable. I hate being sleepy ALL THE TIME - and I mean, 24/7. I wake up after 8 hours of sleep and I'd be nodding my head off immediately. And all I can think about is going back to bed and sleeping again. I can manage 2 hours of alertness and I'd be dreaming of bed...bed...bed again.

I can't eat anything. Everything tastes like saw dust.

Oh no, I'm not happy about this.

I'm crossing my fingers though for a baby boy who looks like Erbe. :) Since, we already have a little mini-me. I'd want a little-Erbe this time.

Oh well, back to work.

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The Sequel

And I finally took the test.

it came out -

and then just to make sure -

so, need i say anything more? 
yes, congratulations are in order. ☺

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Up and Down

I love this bridge and the view on top. This is what I see at 5 o'clock in the morning.
It's fun going up and down.. up and down.. with headphones stuck in your ears.
You can sing as loudly as you want to and nobody will hear you. Well, aside from the other joggers who will only find you amusing. ☺

 

  

 

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Mayong Title

Okay, I have been wanting to get pregnant. It's not in the plan. It's a bad idea at this time, but I have been wanting to get pregnant AGAIN. Now, I wonder if I am, but I haven't checked. This has happened before and it always turned out to be negative, so I refuse to go through that again. 

I figure if I am pregnant, I'll know when something starts kicking inside of me. That's that. Yes, I can be very stubborn about this. I highly doubt if I am though. After all, need I remind you there is seriously wrong with my effing reproductive system? All fine and dandy, just suits my freaking age.

I've been told in two year's time, I'll be in an advanced maternal age. I'm sorry for sounding like an ungrateful bitch. Okay, I take it all back.

Anyway, I have been wanting to blog again. It's a good thing. My blog has been waiting for me for a couple of months. I have also been itching to paint, draw and sketch which I haven't done for a long time. I've been wanting to create a portrait of Paige. I'll get right onto to it when I have the time. It sucks to have an "artist" for a husband though. You tend to become a bit competitive. He has been missing painting and drawing as well.

I also miss writing in my journal. Blogging is not as powerful as writing in one's journal. It doesn't heal as much as the latter does. It doesn't give you much room for complete honesty.

Yesterday, I found myself nagging Erbe again. You see, I have always wanted to go to a beer house. I have always wanted to dress up a man and swagger my way in. I can pass for a guy as long as I perfect my swagger and leers, right? I have the height for it.

I have a specific beer house in mind. I want to go into the seediest beer house, complete with gyrating STD-infected naked women. Yes, that's what I have always wanted to see. I want to see what it's like in there.

I have weird curiosities. For instance, I have never thought of myself as gay. Oh, no, it's all Brad Pitt for me. But I am curious about two things:

1. How do breasts feel like to touch?

2. How does it feel to kiss a girl?

Erbe said, "But you have breasts!" Oh yeah, I have 'em. They're not hard to notice, but they're my appendages. They are like my arms and legs. They have been there for more than half of my life that I don't regard them as breasts. They're just body parts.

What's the big deal about breasts, right? Your mother has them. Your grandmother has them. What's the big deal about these things?

And then there's the kiss. Have you seen Cruel Intentions? Now, that was some kiss, right?

Oh, well, I'd better get back to work now. I still have several articles to write.

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Continuous Ramblings

efore anything else, I'd like to welcome Tinay to blogspot. Thank you for choosing Blogspot over Jinx' Wordpress. ☺

I have no interest in blogging these days, but since I have flooded Facebook and Twitter with my thoughts, I decided that the best way to continue "talking" is through my blog. Nobody would dare to complain.

Okay, what's up with me?

I have been asked if I am planning to go overseas. The answer is yes. Plans to take the bar exam are in the back burner for now. I won't go into details, but abroad is in the works. Our plans for this year are all geared toward that happening.

Now, what else? I have been suffering various health issues. No, do not rejoice yet. I still plan to live for the next 50 years or so. At least, that awful thigh rash has healed already. I suffered the damn thing for one month. The dermatologist said it was a swimmer's itch. Go figured it appeared after we went to Hydro. 

 

I have other health issues as well. For instance, I need to get a mammogram. Sussette said I may only be suffering from fibrocystic breast condition, but it's better to get examined. I'm sorry if that's information overload, but I'm not finish yet. I also have problems with my ovaries. Effing ovaries. But that's not something I'd like to regale you with.

Now, enough about that... 

I've been called "feisty". I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted. I just know that I have a lousy temper. The other day, I ended up quarreling with Union Bank's security guard and later on, Paige's hairdresser. 

 

She was busy hacking Paige's hair while I was busily pointing at her awful hatchet job. No, I wasn't at all nice. I am not nice. And I blame my ovaries for my horrible temper. I blame my uterus as well. The next time, I turn bitchy on you, blame my uterus. Fucking uterus. 

I've learned how to put musical notes on my FB or Twitter posts. I am addicted to doing it. ♫♪♫♪ Press ALT+14 or ALT+13. Enjoy!

I am still amazed at how Paige has grown. I'd hear her laugh and I'd listened in sheer amazement. It amazes me that she came from me. I don't think I'll ever get over it.

I have seen several movies this month, but the best one I've seen is the Blind Side. You should go and download it NOW.

I am voting for Noynoy. You can call me whatever you want to call me - but I will vote for him. I don't give a flying leap about what you think about that. If you have a problem with that - well, you know who - or rather what to blame - riiiiight! my uterus. 

Erbe and I have taken up walking at 4 am.  The sights are not at all pleasing.. some are sad.

I think I'll go to sleep now. Meanwhile, I'd share this song. I'm loving this song. I think it's from Kill Bill. It's Shivaree's Goodnight Moon.

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