Bullshit and Blessings

Nice title, huh?

I am having a good morning as opposed to the kind of morning I had yesterday. Yesterday was crappy.  I guess my good morning is partly because of the rain. I love the rain and I think I have blogged about how much I love the rain that I should just create a category for it or change my blog title to "Have I Told You How Much I Love the Rain Because I Love the Rain. Oh Yes, I Do! Yes, I Do! So, Have I Told You How Much I Love the Rain?"  Yes, that long.

Well, anyway, my good mood is partly because of the rain and my salary raise. :)

Well, that's basically it.  That covers the "Blessings" part in the title of this post.  Now, let's go to the Bullshit part.

You see, I have this little issue that I can't seem to recover from.  You know how we talk about people behind their backs? I mean, you know, we gossip about them. C'mon, don't tell me you haven't done this?! Who are you freaking Mother Teresa?! The Pope?!

Anyway, we've all done this. We do this to family, to friends, to colleagues, to strangers.  We do this with or without malice.  We stab them behind their backs or we deluge them with praises. It doesn't matter.  We, by nature, talk about other people.  And accordingly, people talk about us.  That's just how it is. It's the brutal nature of society.  I guess, we've all accepted that.  What is hard to deal with, however, is learning what people think of us or what they say about us when our backs are turned.  It is even harder when these are the people we consider our friends, best friends even.

Yesterday, a friend of mine sent me a text message she was supposed to send to someone else.  The message was about me.  She was not planning to assassinate me.  She was not assailing my character to little pieces.  In fact, there was some truth to what she was saying, but it was how she said it that hurt me - a lot. It was the words she chose to use.  It came as a shock.  It reeked of cowardice.  I realized I am not as mad as much as I am hurt.  She could have just told me right?

The thing is I don't mince words. I tell people what I think when I feel I have to. In a way, I think it's my way of making up for saying things behind their back (because yes, I do that, sue me.) Because of this, I feel that people should be honest about their feelings too. Anyway, in this case, she sent the bomb and it went off. Did she apologize?  Yes, she did.  She said that she was "sowee."

So, there goes the bullshit. 

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Hey.

I LOVE YOU.

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Disoriented

I slept at 9 in the morning, this morning and I'm awake now. It's 1 in the afternoon. It's my husband's fault.  He opens the door, closes the door, opens the light, closes the light and talks to me even though he knows I'm asleep.  Needless to say, I finally woke up, scream bloody murder and now I can't sleep. My head is pounding.

Early this morning, I saw a pencil and I started sketching, It has been a while since I drew anything and I just allowed my hand to do whatever it wants to do. And I came up with this

Whoopee. Years of not drawing and I came up with this weird shit. Sigh.

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For the One Who Got Away :)

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Anxiety Attack

I knew it would come to this. I thought I was prepared for it, but it seems like I am not. I should be, but I am panicking. I feel like I can't breathe. God damn it. Crossroads. I've reached my crossroads and if things go as planned, I will be jumping into the fires of hell again. I wish I didn't see it like that, but I do. I have six months to change my perception and hopefully, a positive change will yield positive outcome. I am covering all the bases. uh.huh. I am making sure that I have all the bases covered this time and I have Plan A and Plan B all set up. The Fires of Hell is Plan A but I am setting things in motion for Plan B as well.

Dear Lord. I hope I am ready for this. 2012, give me your best shot, bitch.

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Damn It.

I had that dream again where I wake up with a gnawing emptiness in my stomach. Damn it.

I prefer to lie to myself. I prefer to believe in this little truths/lies that I tell myself. I don't understand it really. I don't understand how something or someone can have that much hold. It's weird. It doesn't make sense at all.  It defies the rational, the reasonable.

So, I tell myself that little lie and convince myself it's true. But then, I'd sleep and the truth will rear its head. Damn it. Just.Get.Out.Of.My.Head will you? Go away!

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Three Two

The first time I took notice of her, I was sitting behind her in class.  She was #1 in class - and sometimes #2.  I was often #3 in class, next to her and Lala.  She's a scary loser though.  Well, she used to be.  One time, she ranked 2nd next to Marla, she got mad and she broke Lala's pencil in half.  We were in first grade.

My next memory of her was in 2nd grade.  It was recess and we were playing Chinese Garter.  She was just about to make a jump when her cousin (our classmate) pulled the garter and she fell on her face.  Her front tooth fell off.   I had to wait for her while she gargled and spit out the blood from her mouth.  We were late for our First Communion practice.

From then on, she became a part of my life.  We have seen each other through a lot of things for 24 years.  There are a lot of great memories and a lot of painful ones.  I have seen her grow from a child to the strong woman she is now.  Although, I've always loved her, I have also learned to respect her.  I think she is one of the person in my life that I hold in the highest regard.  She is often stubborn, but she's the kind of person who would always, always do the right thing.

You can never make her cheat or lie.  She has her beliefs and she stands by them.  She values friendship and she values family.  After everything that has happened to her, I have never been so proud of her for being the strong, principled woman that she is.  While I lose respect for some people, I only have the greatest respect for her.  Oh, there were times when she pissed me off.  There were times when I wanted to scream at her.  She's great at pissing me off actually. It's hard to quarrel with her though because she's great at ignoring me until I get tired of being mad. I love her for being like that and for the hundred little things that make her who and what she is - a woman who knows her mind.

We're back to square one, Tin. But let's not give up on lighting candles...like you used to do.  You know what I mean.  I love you to bits.  Go and be fabulous.  Happy Birthday.

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The Things I Learned from Being a Mom

I am not your typical mom.  In fact, I am so atypical that I envy the normal ones, you know regular mothers.  I have my own way of doing things.  I think I frustrate Erbe who is so traditional in his views that he probably regrets marrying me.  I think he starts his prayers with, "Dear God, please help me reform my wife."


If you were married to me and you are quite traditional, you will regret it.  You see, I believe not all women are born with this overwhelming desire to clean the house, chop onions and grate cheese.

Okay, I know there are great pleasures they said you'd derive from "serving" your husband or your children.  One word comes to mind though every time I hear this chauvinistic statement - ARCHAIC.  Seriously?!  I'd probably do these things because I see them as:

1. Things I have to do because nobody else will do them

2. Things I want to do because it'll please my husband

However, #2 is negotiable.  It depends on how pleased I am with the husband as well.  If he's being an ass, should I still try to please His Majesty?

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Love

Love.

It's a simple four letter word. It's practically a cliche. For love is a whore of a word. It has been used so often as a lie or as the truth.  It's easy to say...love. It rolls out the tongue like a soft breeze in a summer night. It's easy to say. What it is, however, is difficult to find.  Everybody wants it.  Everybody is looking for it, but not everyone finds it. 

Love.

Sometimes, you think you have it and then then you'd find yourself wondering if you really truly had it. It's what makes people give up their faith or give up on their dreams. Ironically, it's also the one thing that can truly drive men to great heights. It's consuming.

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Drowning

Drowning. That's how I feel.
I feel like I need to swim to the surface fast, just to breathe.
That's what I am doing.
I wonder where you draw the lines. I wonder when you throw in the towel.  I wonder when should you stop caring or hurting or giving a damn.  Because seriously, nobody wants you to give a damn.  Nobody really gives a shit whether you cry or not.
Oh, this is not about my marriage - I suppose you're thinking, "Are they having problems?"
No, it's not
It's about giving a damn, feeling shitty for somebody else's shit.
I just wish I'd stop caring.
Well, anyway, I have my life to live. So, I should just think about that.

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Interlude

Lately, I have realized that respect is a necessary ingredient in all kinds of relationships.  You really can't have a relationship with a person you don't respect.  How do you relate to someone you can't respect?  How do you continue to love someone you do not respect?

No, my marriage is not under the rocks.  I'm what you call semi-happy. My husband would call our marriage, however, a marriage of eternal bliss.  I guess it all boils down to what makes an individual happy.  There are things I want and I need.  My issues are wholly my own.  They have nothing to do with my husband who I might say is a saint.  It has nothing to do with the kind of relationship we have.  There are some things I have to work out for myself. If my marriage is semi-happy, that'd be because I am my problem.  Erbe, however, would tell you that we are very, very happy.  The truth is, we are.

I wish I can write something humorous.  But lately, life has not been humorous for me.

I deleted a post - the one I wrote before this.

In case, you didn't read it.  I want you to know that I did create another blog, my online journal.  Something I'd keep to myself. Oh, it's out there. I'm in my most awesome asshole form there.  Bitch of all bitches.  I just want to keep it to myself though. I can be my honest self there.

Meanwhile, I will keep posting on this one.  Just because I can. So, there.

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Adieu

This blog has its good run.  I enjoyed writing for this blog, but I feel that I should start a new one.  Blogging is my emotional outlet.  I take out my garbage here.  Unfortunately, it has come to a point where I can no longer write to my heart's content because I am considering my readers' feelings - and I don't want to consider anybody's feelings but my own when I am writing.  I cannot control who reads my blog and unfortunately, I do not like some of my readers - yes, that includes you.

So, I am going to stop writing for this blog and continuing on with another one.  Since you are reading this right now, you probably would like to know my new blog's URL address - OR not. Well, if you do, send me an email and I will send my blog address to you, that is if I like you.  If I don't, I'll probably just send you an article entitled 10 Good Reasons Why I Think You Should Jump Off a Cliff. Well, it was great writing for you - well, some of you. I bid you adieu. :)

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Sampulong Gramo

It was my fault.
I handled it badly.
I should have said that I agreed with the things I was reading.
I don't like the way I handled things.
I wish I can have a second chance and I'd be able to handle it better.
No, things are definitely NOT better left unsaid.


I am setting up a new blog.
I am going to say goodbye to this one. Oh, no, I am not going to delete this. I will just continue blogging elsewhere.

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Do You Remember Your First Kiss?

Someone asks me why I haven't been blogging. Honestly, I just lost that need to tell my stories. For years, I'd write a post here and there - and it was for this person. Just on an off chance that this person  might just be reading my blog. Now, I don't feel that anymore. I've lost that and along with it, I've lost the need to tell stories - my stories. The thing is I don't have to blog these stories anymore.

But then the other night, someone asked me why I haven't been blogging. This someone asked me to continue blogging.  "I enjoy reading your blog," I was told. I haven't decided to stop blogging - I just don't feel like it. But then, here I am, procrastinating on work and I decided why not write a post?  It's Sunday and it should be a lazy day.

And then, I thought what should I write about? And I came up with a blank. I honestly don't have a story to tell. Until I started browsing the Internet and I read this - 

"According to Sheril Kirshenbaum, a scientist at the University of Texas, a first kiss is likely to be one of your most vivid memories, even more so than losing your virginity. Kirshenbaum's forthcoming book says that the memory is so distinct that most of us are able to recall 90% of the details.

But how well do you remember your first kiss? Was it behind the bike sheds at school, a university fresher's party or an altogether less predicable location? Did you regret it instantly or did it lead to true love? We want the stories of your first smooch." (source: Guardian)

That's curious. Is it really possible to remember your first kiss, even more so than losing your virginity? Curiously, enough, I agree.

I am one of those lucky ones. I have a pretty good story.  However, I have heard of horrible first kiss stories. A friend of mine wishes she'd develop selective amnesia so that she'd be able to completely forget the memory of her first kiss. I guess, who can blame her. It was hardly romantic. The guy was stuffing her hand down his pants while he slaps buckets of saliva on her face. Hardly romantic, huh? No, trust me, it was not even passionate.  It was definitely not the first kiss you would like to remember - unless of course, you were that guy and it was your first kiss and you were going, "oh yeah! oh yeah!" in your head.

It isn't just women.  Men definitely have bad stories as well.  I remember this guy friend telling me he hated his first kiss.  He was drinking with his High School friends and some girls came in.  When he was really drunk, this girl dragged him outside the house and stuffed her tongue down his throat.  She wasn't even his type.  I would have thought that this does not matter to men.  And he was a teenager!  With his raging hormones, you would think it wouldn't matter to him, but apparently it did.

I think we can blame it all on Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.  If you did not have a deprived childhood and your parents read your fairy tales - or at least bought you Betamax tapes (yes, betamax), so you could watch Disney cartoons - you probably have imagined a Snow White moment yourself.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case. Some people have to live with the memory of a pimply-faced boy with raging hormones or a man-eating teenage girl. But then again, some people have good stories to tell.

I'm one of the lucky ones, so I've said. But then telling you about it would mean writing another blog post. I'll come around to blogging about how it all happened. one day.  For now, here is what I think about that perfect first kiss.

In order for a first kiss to be great, it has to be:

1. With the person you care about and who cares about you

2. the culminating moment.

3. Unexpected

4. during a moonlit night.

No. 4 is a tall order, so you can scratch that one out. But these things perfectly describe my first kiss. Now, if only I can remember who my first kiss was. I can't even remember if it was a girl or a boy. *wink

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My Love Affair with the Moon

Have you seen the moon tonight? It's a full moon.  It's breathtaking. I think I've once told someone that the easiest way to feel close to anyone you love who is far from from you is to look at the moon.  You see, it doesn't really matter where you are.  If you both look up, you will be looking at the same moon.  Distance doesn't seem so great if you think of it like that.  Of course, the person I was telling this to before was in the same time zone as I was.

Have you ever bathed with moon light streaming down your bathroom window, hitting you with its warmth? It feels good.  No, scratch that - it feels freaking great.  There is something about the moon that I just love.  I'm in love with it.  You can say it's my lover.  I am having an affair with it.  Oh, well, I'm just being a sentimental fool again.  

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Nothing Specific Really

I have this little vomit in my mouth - a figurative vomit. It doesn't exist, but curiously, I can taste it.

Lately, life has been both funny and cruel to people I know - and love. Life has been what it has always been, a pain in the ass. (Yes, I am rambling. I type as my thinking takes it usual route, scattered in different directions. I guess you will understand as I continue to write and you continue to read. It's just fair to let you know now though that I will be writing about a lot of things and I will probably jump from one topic to another.  So, please bear with me. I'll get there - eventually.)

Recently, I feel like I am stuck in this chair in front of a huge stage, a helpless and hapless witness to life's cruel jokes.  Life can seemingly lead one to retrace old steps and get closure from one's past. It can lead another to hold on to something that wouldn't last. It can get another to seek for happiness when happiness is still latched on to the past. Life can also lead another to say goodbye to something precious and someone loved. It doesn't end there... it goes on and on as life continues to unfold before my eyes in different ways.

But what does it have to offer to me?

Well, life has whispered a promise, a probability that really, something truly wonderful is always out there. Oh, it's not perfect, but I am happy. You know how it's like when there's nothing really spectacular happening to you, but you just know that you are blissfully happy. I can stay here, right at this very spot where I am and I can drown in this sheer happiness that I am feeling and I'd die happy.

Lately, I have realized that I am to someone what someone else was to me. People seem to hold on to things - an object, an idea and often a lost loved. But I have let go of my ghosts.  I've realized that the cure lies on unmasking your ghost.  Once you do, you'll realize that it doesn't have any hold of you anymore. My ghost has disappeared. Oh, it lingers sometimes, but I've realized that the reality is just a mere shadow of what was wonderful and amazing. What I have been holding on to is a shadow of what was and no longer is. The reality is entirely different.

I wish someone else would see me that way - that I am no longer who I am before, so they could let go of their idea of me and see me for who I am now.  I am different now. I am my own person. I have a family, but most of all, I am a mother. I wish I could say that being my person is more important than being a mother, but it seems that it is not, at least for now. The latter takes precedence over everything else.


Recently, I have been asked a question.  I wish I could give the person the answer that I believe this person wanted to hear from me, but I can't. Because the truth is, my heart, the whole of it is no longer mine.  I have given it away when I said my vows and I'd probably die without it.


It's sad really. It's everywhere - the vicious loneliness that seems to be eating at people, driving them to look for happiness from somewhere else.  Oh, I'm still rambling. I better end this now.

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A Revelation

I have just been told that I am the worst thing that ever happened to someone - worse than the death of this person's parents.

OUCH. I still do not know what I did or why I am that infamous in this person's life. But I'd like to think of it this way - that I apparently mattered enough to wreck havoc in this person's life. I have never intentionally hurt anyone. Ironically, this person mattered to me a lot. I just didn't know I mattered just as much as well. If things were different. If life didn't happened the way it did, I'd probably be married to this person. Oh, well. C'est la vie. It's just probably sad that I missed out on something great because I was too busy looking at something that was worth shit. I wasted years on people who couldn't even give half of what I was being readily given.

So, to you, I am so sorry. I just didn't know.

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For Your Information

I love my husband with every fiber of my being. I have not loved anyone as much as I love him. I love him and ONLY him. 


Oh, I am silly sometimes, I do things and say things that will likely lead you to think otherwise, but if you know our story, you will not blink an eye when I tell you that our story is probably the stuff of Hollywood films. I will gladly walk all the way to hell and back for him - and I have. He knows that - and that is the reason why he allows me certain proclivities that typically husbands do not allow their wives.


My husband knows that when push comes to shove, he can trust me to ultimately do the right thing when it comes to us and our marriage. How do I know this? He just told me right now.


Anyway, I just have to put it out there. Just so, no one will think otherwise.

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The Things a 4-Year-Old Should Know

Admit it, if you’re a mom – or a dad – you’ve probably compared your kid to somebody else’s kid. I should know, I’ve done the same thing hundreds of times! I, however, am not guilty of openly insulting or comparing my children with other people’s children. Since becoming a parent, I’ve noticed two things:
1. That parents want to believe that their children are little prodigies.
2. That parents often wonder what their child should know or should be able to do at certain ages.

I’m guilty of both.

I’ve realized, however, that there are really certain things that children, particularly preschoolers, should know. So, here is my list of things that a 4-year-old should know (my Paige is, after all, 4 years old):

First of all – and this is probably the most important thing in this list – your child should know that she is loved. Completely and unconditionally. No buts or what-ifs. No exceptions.

I've recently learned how important this is to my child.  Paige knows how happy I am every time she comes home with a star. I’ve learned, however, that a star didn’t matter much in comparison to my child’s happiness.

One afternoon, she came home, hiding her hand behind her.  She approached me with a sad look in her face. After I prompted her to tell me what’s wrong, she told me that she prayed dearly to Jesus, asking him to make her teacher stamped a star on her hand. And then she hesitantly showed me her hand and said sadly, “No star, mama.” I felt my heart breaking into tiny little pieces. I gave her a hug and told her that she’s a really smart and wonderful kid and that I love her no matter what.

It was an eye opener for me. I had a good talk with my husband after that because I was wondering where I draw the line. How do you encourage your child without causing her sorrow? And Erbe gave me a good answer, but then that’s another story.

Anyway, I continue with my list.

The second thing your child should know is this - how to keep herself safe. It is your duty to keep her safe, but there are basic rules that you need to teach your child. Never go with strangers anywhere. Never leave your side in public. Safety is a huge consideration especially when you have a little girl. Predators are everywhere! Boys are no longer safe as well.

She should know two important values: Respect and Honesty. Oh, children slip every now and then. Sometimes, your child would throw a tantrum. Sometimes, she’d lie – or god forbid if this happens to you – steal small potatoes from the supermarket (this happened to me - last week!), but as long as she’s going in the right direction, she’s going to be okay.

Your child should know that it’s okay to be silly. She should know that it’s okay to laugh and to use her imagination. Trees do not always need to have green leaves. Faces can be orange and violet. A bicycle can carry seven people. Let her have fun with her imagination. Her interests should be encouraged. She’ll soon learn the alphabet and numbers, but let her pretend to be a mermaid or a fairy for now. Let your child draw rocket ships, cars and airplanes if that’s what she wants.  
Finally, she should know that the world is wonderful and that it is magical. She should know that she is a very important piece of that magic. She should know that she’s so important that you would be willing to spend hours just playing with her or that she can come to you with her latest drawing of you (with an orange face, of course) and you'd be willing to give her a minute of your time.
Now, those things, my friends, are the things that a 4-year-old should know.

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My Latest Embarrassing Story

Just before going home yesterday afternoon, I decided to drop by Jollibee to get something for Paige and the Husband.  After giving my order, I began planning Paige's birthday plans in my head.  I was waiting for my order.  It was so weird. I just went blank and I just stood there.  I saw the cashier preparing my order.  I saw her talking to me.  I saw her mouth was moving, but her words weren't registering at all. I was busy budgeting in my head.

Once again, I saw her gesturing at my order placed in front of me, but I just glanced at the food and I continued thinking. I didn't realize everybody was waiting for me and looking at me strangely.  I stood there for what felt like a whole minute.


Finally, I snapped back to reality and I realized what I was doing - and this was only after the customer behind me finally gathered the guts to brave the crazy woman stupidly standing in front of the cashier staring at the menu, not saying anything. Oh, in my head, I was wondering where I can possibly find helium so I can blow up balloons the night before Paige's birthday so she'd wake up with balloons in the ceiling.

Anyway, I finally looked at the cashier - really looked at her - and then I asked, "Is this my order?" She nodded with a strange look on her face. I was so embarrassed. Red-faced, I scurried outside. Talk about embarrassing. Why do I do these things? Geeze.

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Dear Lord

Please don't let me be this person. I don't want to be like this person... This is just so sad. I had to live with a ghost for a decade. I can't do two or more! That's just sad. Really sad...

(image from Postsecret.com)

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The Train

A, 

I hear the train. 

As usual, I am reminded of you - and I smile.

Me

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Eccentricities and Idiosyncracies

Like most people, I probably take me for granted. You know how it goes. You like certain things - and you don't really give it much thought. You like certain ways and you shrug it off because these are the things that you know about you.

Like you, I have my own eccentricities and idiosyncracies. I have just never bothered to take notice.

For instance, I don't like newly-cooked rice. I don't like eating hot rice, so I prefer to eat leftover rice. I also love eating rice topped with milk and milo - or sometimes, milk with sugar. It was only in college that I realize how weird this is and that was only after my bestfriend repeatedly pointed out the fact and made a big show out of trying it out for herself. She loved it too. But she also has her own set of idiosyncracies. so.

If I am not going out after I take a bath, I refuse to comb my hair. I don't know why. But when I pat dry my hair, I need to count to 30. I don't know where 30 came from.

I sleep with half of my face covered - not the whole of it, just the half of it. I figured a long time ago, I can avoid seeing ghosts without suffocating if I only have my eyes covered. I don't know how I come up with that one.

I turn my nose up at shoes. I, however, salivate when I see books. I don't like shoes and I particularly don't like high-heeled ones. I guess this stems from growing up being extremely conscious about my height. That is why I prefer slippers. Women love shoes. I just don't understand why they do.

I, however, understand the fascination for perfumes, expensive ones. I love 'em. Fortunately, I don't need to buy them because my sister loves them too and she never fails to buy 'em for me. :)

When I brush my teeth, I always have the need to do 10 strokes for every area. front teeth. 10 strokes. molars. 10 strokes. incisors. 10 strokes and so on and so forth.

I have an unquestionable love for rain. Rain, even just the sound of it, immediately perks me up. I guess I've never had a bad memory associated with rain. Rain brings to mind a lot of good memories.
...hot cakes when I was 5 years old...
...playing under the rain...
...dancing under the rain...
...kissing under the rain...
...curled up in bed with a good book...
...wet branches that I spend hours drawing...

lots and lots of good memories. feel good memories.

I don't like seafoods except for shrimps. I hate everything else. Okay, hate is a strong word. Still, I would rather not eat seafoods except for shrimp. Shrimp, however, is something my sister and love. Shrimp means 2 hours of great conversation with my sister over a plateful of shrimps that we'd devour. We love fish sauce with lemon juice to go with our shrimp. Truth is, my sister and I love to dip anything on fish sauce with lemon juice. We realized that our penchance for it has become a bit weird when our cousin pointed it out to us.

I don't like chocolate ice cream. It's fine as long as it's not pure chocolate. I don't like when it's all brown. I figured ice creams should have a bit of everything, so every bite is a surprise.

Speaking of chocolate, I don't like dark brown ones or the pure chocolate ones. I, however, love love love milk chocolates.

The list goes on and on. I bet you have them too, huh?

I may probably never learn to love shoes, but that's okay. It's not a capital crime and I can always get away with turning my nose up at shoes. I can be a shoe-snob for the rest of my life and it wouldn't hurt anyone.  So, what are your eccentricities? Better, what makes you wonderfully weird?

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Thoughts on Death

Death. It's not something you want to think about or talk about.  Life is too precious to think about dying, but every now and then death confronts you.  It rears its ugly head and it reveals itself in the most horrific ways.  Sometimes, death is silent.  It comes in the middle of the night and it takes people away in a sweet embrace.  Most people would probably wish that for themselves.  I do.  I want death to come to me when I'm asleep and I wouldn't even know that I am dying.  That's probably how I want to die.

Sometimes, death comes with a warning and it allows you a few more precious minutes, hours, days, months, years with your loved ones to prepare them and to prepare yourself.  I wish that for myself as well. I wish that I'd be able to prepare my loved ones before I die.

Regardless of how I want to die, I want to be able to say first that I lived a life that is fully lived. I want to be able to tell myself that I have made a mark on the lives of people.  In the end, it doesn't matter how much money you have in your bank account or what kind of car you drive.  Those things do not matter.  What matters is that you lived your life fully and loved for all your worth.

Last night, we were told that my mother-in-law has only a few months to live if her body does not respond to chemotherapy.  I started crying.  We are hoping that she'd respond to chemotherapy.  We are hoping that we can buy off time.  That she can bargain for more time.   We can only pray for that.  It's all a blur right now.  We're all in denial, but we're praying. It's all we can do now.

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Running Thoughts Again

I have been tapping...tapping.. because I feel so much that I want to explode. I have been tapping on these keys and I'd immediately find myself erasing what I have written.  I wanted to write about Life and how cruel it can be.  Life is definitely what happens when you are planning something else.

Curiously, I can't seem to find the right words. I can't seem to catch my thoughts. They're everywhere.

I feel sad. sad, yes, primarily.

I feel melancholic.  I think that word is more accurate.

You know what I wish?  That I'd get a break.  That I can finally get rid of things that I should get rid of.  I just want one day - just one day that I wouldn't think..................................

Is that too much to ask?

I'm blabbering now. Damn it.

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To Whom It May Concern

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Online Storage :)

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Minds That Matter

Jinx, I took this on the second day of classes. They were/are not required to use uniforms yet. :)

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Get Fun and Chic Hospital Uniforms and Scrubs!

Once upon a time, I was on my way home when I saw this guy wearing a white scrub for men standing in front of a local drug store.  I can't remember his face now.  I just remember thinking that he looked like an angel.  I couldn't stop staring and he was staring back. Looking back, he was probably thinking, "Why is this weird girl staring at me?"  The car sped up and that was it - I never saw him again. I'd probably wouldn't recognize him anyway since I don't remember his face.  Truth be told, I'm probably married to him.  My husband used to wear white hospital uniforms, so yeah. I figured that guy could have been my husband.

Anyway, since then, white surgical scrubs and medical scrubs have always appealed to me.  I'd often find myself staring at doctors uniforms when I'm in the hospital.  They look so great, don't they?  I don't know if it's just me, but these uniforms are just incredibly comforting.  Anyway, if you are a doctor or a nurse, you maybe probably bored with your uniform.  As much as I am fascinated with these hospital garbs, people who are wearing them daily probably do not enjoy wearing them as much.  My sister, a nurse, certainly feels that way.  She stands for hours while on duty and she prefers nursing scrubs and uniforms that are comfortable.  She sometimes shops online.

I love reading reviews and when it comes to scrubs and hospital garbs, I've read wonderful reviews about BlueSkyScrubs.com.  Their uniforms are 100% cotton and wonderfully wrinkle free!  Their coats and scrubs are cut in a way that nurses and doctors would look slim while wearing them.  Their products also comes with a lot of pockets, so nurses and doctors can bring just about everything they need when they go on rounds.  I particularly like their scrubs hats.  They're wonderfully chic and fun.  You will once again look forward to wearing your uniform! Everything looks incredibly chic and comfortable - and for doctors and nurses who are doing practically 24 hours of work, the words "chic and comfortable" definitely sound good.

Here's the link people!

http://www.blueskyscrubs.com/categories/Scrubs/

Disclaimer: Paid Post

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A Barbie Called Lyn

I played with Barbie dolls today.

I found one of Paige's dolls at the back of the washing machine. It was filthy. I found another one inside the hamper of dirty clothes and it was even dirtier. I found another on top of my law books and yes, it was dirty. They were all naked.  I took all three and I gave them a bath. It was like 1989 all over again. I gave them a bath and then I spent countless minutes untangling their hair. For an hour or so, I was a kid - and I loved it.

I used to have lots and lots of Barbie dolls. Kris and I would play with them for hours, inventing stories - and even then, I was great at creating stories for my sister. Oh, yes, it was always love stories with Ken cheating on Barbie, or some nasty broad stealing Ken away from Barbie. My 5-year-old sister was always fascinated with my stories. I, however, used to go to Ate Let's house and she'd tell me her own stories.

She'd take out Lyn, her one and only Barbie doll and we'd play with Lyn. Lyn's boyfriend was a ruler - yes, a ruler. Ate Let must have hated Kris Aquino because Kris Aquino was always stealing the ruler away from Lyn. Lyn's best friend is Timmy (the singer - I forgot the last name). Regardless of the fact that we were playing with a ruler, I'd spend hours just listening to Ate's stories and I'd come back for more.

Lyn was an old doll. Ate must have combed her hair countless of times because it was thinning, but Lyn was special. That doll was taken care of well. Ate Let treated it like it was a precious gem - and this is probably why despite the fact that I had 10 Barbie dolls, I've always thought of Lyn as special. I didn't even mind that my Barbie dolls were always the antagonists. I didn't care.  I thought that it was just right considering how special Lyn was.

Looking back, I probably just thought it was special because that's how Ate Let regarded her.  Lyn was, after all, her only doll.

I guess that's just it for everyone. We have our own "Lyn". It doesn't matter what it is. We have things that we regard as precious and it doesn't matter to us how it looks like or what people thinks of it.

So, what is my "Lyn"?

Not what, but who?  Mine is my husband.  He's a bit rough around the edges. He is not perfect and yes, someday, he'd likely lose his hair, but I'd probably always think of him as the most handsome man in the world. And it doesn't matter what anybody else's think.

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I Can't Figure It Out

So, here's what I have been thinking...

For quite a while now, I haven't been going to Church. I have been a lost sheep. I don't have a problem with God. I believe there is one. I have no doubts about that. Let us not go into the semantics of the words God and existence. I have a problem with priests who rape and abuse children, wipe their hands and spout platitudes from the pulpit. I have a problem with the Church that turns a blind eye to all that. So, I refused to go to church for a while.

But anyway, after the series of unfortunate events that happened, I was repeatedly blamed for what was happening. I was repeatedly hearing the words, "because you probably do not go to Church anymore." People kept telling me, "God must be doing this to remind you to go to Church."

So, yeah, what they're saying is that God is in a snit (forgive me, Lord for that description) and he's throwing a tantrum, punishing me and my child with encephalitis and my mother with aortic sclerosis because I was not going to Church. Never mind that I do not hurt people or that I am a good person or that I pray! God has a problem with me, so he's reminding me by doing all that. Okay.

But then again, I've also heard in the past people saying that when you're truly closed to God and he gives you problem, that would be because He does not want you to go astray. He wants to test your faith and he wants to see how far you can take without giving up. This confuses me. If you are far from God, you get "reminded" and he gives you a lot of problems. If you are close to God, he "tests" you and he gives you a lot of problems. Either way, you're screwed basically.

Also, God is there with you. He punishes you but he never gives you anything you cannot bear because just like in the story "Footprints in the Sand", he carries you when you're heavily burden. So, why give problems in the first place when he just ends up carrying you?

Yep, I am being blasphemous here. Completely and utterly blasphemous. But really, how do you figure all these things out? Comments to help me out will be greatly appreciated.

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Women Love Men in Scrubs

Women just love men in uniform, but you know what else they love? Men in scrubs. Seriously! There’s a certain appeal that goes with the white scrubs.  Call it stereotyping, but you certainly can’t deny the fact. Aside from the impression of stability that these scrubs create, they also give out the impression that you guys (lucky enough to legitimately wear one!) are all-around neat to live with – and women just love men who certainly know how to keep house.

If you’re a fan of Grey’s Anatomy, you’ve probably seen Derek a.k.a. McDreamy fashioning these doctor lab coats and these really cute scrub hats. I think like most women, he graduates from mere “cute” guy to a really “dreamy” one.

What’s this entry all about? Well, I came across the blueskyscrubs.com and I saw that they are actually selling the cutest products for doctors and nurses. If you’re a nurse or a doctor, you really should check out the site. The products are top-of-the-line. They use quality materials that will probably last you a long, long time. I think what sets their hospital uniforms apart from the rest of the products online is the fact that these uniforms are not only functional but incredibly fun too! Just check out this scrub hat – fun! 

Seriously, putting the words "cute", "fun", "dreamy doctors" aside, I did a review on this site before and have actually read a lot of reviews on this site. Medical professionals really enjoy buying their products from here.  The quality of their products are impeccable.  It doesn't hurt that the designs are pretty playful.  This is definitely the go-to site for doctors and nurses looking to buy hospital uniforms.

Here's the link people!

http://www.blueskyscrubs.com/categories/Scrubs/Scrubs-for-Men/

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