2005 Summary of the Life of a Nobody

I wrote myself this letter last night...



Dear Me,


2005 is over! Wow! How time flies! Can you believe 1982 was 24 years ago?! Next thing you know, youre 26-- the age you plan to get married and be Mrs. Somebody. But dont imagine that yet. It'll arrive. Just as your new motto goes, "Dont awaken love until its time." So finish all that you have to do and worry about all the gooey stuff when you're done fixing yourself first.


Let me summarize 2005 for you the simplest way possible:


- A hospital job
- A writing job
-An almost dead laptop
- Jesus
- Youth camps
- Revival
- Career confusion
- Michael
- Australia
- Whoopie
- "Feeding Whoopie Fights" with bro
- Friends' weddings
- Fashion TV
- House renovations
- Immigration papers
- Songwriting
- A book in progress
- A new computer
- HP 3-in-1 Printer/Scanner/Photocopier
- Concerts
- Band practices
- Song numbers
- Pop star Audition
- Photos
- Junk emails
- Friendster, Myspace, Christianster, Blogger
- Google Mail
- Your website (thanks to Chris)
- Witnessing Opportunities
- Trips to the gym
- Diarrhea
- "I don't care what mean things others do or say to me, I am just going to be the best that I can be" dialogue
- Wrestling with little Shann
- Vocal exercises with little Nicole
- Bath & Body Works Cherry Blossom Moisturizer
- New best friends
- Selfless acts of service
- Humility: BIG WORD
- Inspirations unlimited
- Best goose Daniel
- Badblogs


I believe this is the summary of everything that really mattered. Good or bad, they made you grow in a way or another. Collect more fond memories and be a better person in 2006, k? You do that by growing up. So listen well to the wise sayings and fight the good fight. So yay! Happy New Year!

Love,
Yourself










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Bad blogs

Okay wow, i didnt even know this happens around here but a certain loser actually reposts our blogs on his own page when he thinks its "bad". He calls his webpage BADBLOGS. Hmm... isn't that lame?


I just found out coz a concerned blogger gave me notice by putting a comment on one of my blogs... (which isnt the one featured in the loser's page). Anyway, I commented back,


"I think the person who does this must be more than just bored. He has totally no life at all. As in zero. And what does our blogs mean to him? Bad or good, they are "OUR" blogs and who cares what the mofo thinks? We can write whatever we choose to... even nonsense in our most incoherent moments. Maybe he has no brain. That loser can go on being a lame lowlife and we'll go on blogging... Aight? ;)"


Ok I must admit, that was a bad blog that I had there that he posted on his site but I'm wondering how he caught it. I deleted that blog long before I learned he copied it on his page because I was upset when I wrote it and it was a total nonsense. Hmm he must have so much free time to have found it. It had me wowed a little. It was one of those I wrote during my "blank head" moments when I really had nothing to say but still blogged just to have something to say coz its my page anyway and whoever "passes by" to read it is just "passing by" and wouldnt really give it much attention or care so much to make a fuss out of any nonsense I may be saying. Or i thought so...


As I browsed through the other featured "bad" blogs he had, I was struck with annoyance. I was pissed not merely by the fact that I had one blog included there (or maybe more, I didn't check) but because I thought this guy should be minding his own business. He shouldn't be doing that. Its a total lack of respect for other people's viewpoints and maybe even writing abilities. People's standards with regards to what is a bad blog and what isn't differ but he doesn't care about that because maybe it gives him a certain feeling of elation to be able to insult others in some way. He finds what he does funny. He thinks he's cool. Poor guy. But since our blogs are open to the public, i guess they are open to be included in his collection as well. I dont think we can do anything about that. And if we contact him to protest, maybe it would make him feel a lot happier. Maybe he has some insecurity issues or something.


My blogs represent my different moods in various moments. I am not a bad writer. I dont need to write knee-jerk quips just to be praised. I dont blog to insult others. And I am not posting entries to be insulted either. I am writing what my head gives me at the moment. I can post the lamest, cheesiest, most annoying, most boring, most incoherent, out-of-this-world, craziest, stupidest, silliest, longest, shortest blog entry I can write and anyone who has a problem with it surely has a mental problem.


Happy New Year!





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About minding our own monkeys

There’s a little part of my brain that speaks to itself. Or so I explain to myself to counter this “questionable” behaviour that I have. I have this habit of thinking out loud when I’m all alone. I don’t do it when I’m in a public place or if I’m with anyone—just when I’m all by myself.


I don’t even tell myself not to do it when I’m around people. The habit just seems to automatically shut off. It amazes me because I have a friend who does the same thing, but she does it everywhere. She can’t control it. She does it in the fast food queues when were waiting for our turns to order. She used to it when we were taking our exams in school. She would snap into it even in the middle of a conversation as if she suddenly fell into her own world. She does it in every situation that requires thinking or decision-making. And she does it loud enough for another person to hear and think that her bolts might be going unscrewed.


I tell her that I find that habit of hers funny. I also admitted to her that if I didn’t happen to know her, I’d surely think she’s some weirdo who’s a definite candidate for a mental asylum lock-up. But I definitely do know that is not true. We would just laugh about it but she would tell me she doesn’t really care what people think anymore. She used to do it as a child when there was nobody to talk to. It’s a habit she cannot seem to outgrow and she just lets it overcome her everyday of her life, “like making her brain her best friend and talking to it without any care about what other people would think or say”. It seems like she has made it a “de-stressing” habit. I see it as a sort of a “release” or well, maybe I can call it liberation. It’s like telling other people, “Back off! I’m using my own brains now and if you can’t do the same, mind your own beeswax!”


I’m sure she’s not the only person on earth who does the same thing. Well, “mental patients” really do that and would blab about whatsoever. But I’m sure there are those who are really just plain “thinking out loud to themselves”—in public. I’ve never really given this much thought before but I used to scoff at people who do this. I would, as anyone’s probable initial reaction, think they are just too weird and are about to attack the persons to their immediate surroundings. In short, unfair as I am to judge them like that, I conclude that they’re probably crazy.


Then I realized I actually do the same thing sometimes. I don’t do it with an audience, but I still do talk to myself. Sometimes, in the middle of doing it, I’d feel a bit silly but I wouldn’t really mind because I know I’m not crazy. Even if I talk to myself all day, I wouldn’t stand in front of the mirror to turn my nose up at myself. I know it’s just normal to think out loud.
I was in a bit of a struggle trying to find my point on reflecting upon this. I think I have found it now. There are things we do that most people would not understand or would find weird or crazy. It’s not just thinking out loud or talking to ourselves. It could also be things like wanting to be alone or not talking. We may not be able to explain to them our reasons for doing these things or sometimes, we’re not given the chance. Sometimes too, we don’t think it’s worth the effort to explain or we simply just don’t care what they say or think.


If I didn’t know my friend well, I would probably find her different too and even judge her unfit of my company. I know it’s harsh. I’m glad I know her story.


You might not like a person for being “weird”, but that person surely has a story. The story could be inspiring or heart-wrenching or uninteresting to you, but it could be something big to that person. So unless you know it, it’s best not to judge. Unless the person really suddenly attacks or starts to pull someone’s hair, it’s better to look at him as another normal human being. You should still be as careful and vigilant as you can be or want to, but its best to learn how to mind your own business in moments that call for it.

The Story of The Big, Hairy Spider On My Shower Curtain

I hate spiders. Its common knowledge. But today was a more special day to be have an encounter with one. I groggily walked to my bathroom and there it was!!! On my shower curtain!!! A big, hairy spider hanging out peacefully. And as i got my first goosebumps for the day, I lost all inclination to remain all-groggy as I initially planned.


I stared at it for a moment, gathering strength and courage to get ready for an attack. I watched and it was just so still. But I was thinking maybe its a defense tactic or something. And when Im the one not moving, it would suddenly jump right at my nose!!! I held on to my slipper tight... but I couldnt move. THoughts filled my head. And I remembered the story of the wasp and the spider... which I dont really completely remember. I also remembered Robert Fulghum's reminder to try to look at things from the spider's point of view. I remembered all stories related to the spider. Inside my head, I tried to form my own story and even write a complete essay about the logic of its existence.


Hmmm... the spider's point of view... Well, it must have thought, "Why is this weird huge creature staring at me with a slipper on her hand?"... In other days, I would have just called my brother to kill it immediately and dispose of its lifeless body. But today was different. I thought first.


I thought of all the reasons why I am scared of this hairy thing. WHy? Its not even bigger than my palm!!! This is just one of the things that annoy me about myself!


I stared at it one last time. I wanted to kill it but my fear was still there. I decided not to do anything with it and just try to go on with my usual morning activities.


But my dad did it anyways... He killed it. Maybe it was sort of like an instinct. Dad's still my hero.

Insurmountable Courage

This is what I badly need these days...

The worrywarts of today...

...are still the worrywarts of tomorrow!!!


Thats the biggest thing I learned for today! Im exhausted and in the middle of it all, I realized one thing--the same people who kept on whining to me the other day were the same people who annoyed me to the brim with a different series of worries and complaints today. What the heck?! Life's too short to spend on too much grumbling and worrying. Its okay to do it sometimes but everyday? Whoa! That's just hopeless. Time flies, I dont think its wise to spend them all that way. The best thing to do is to find solutions to whatever bites us every waking minute of our lives.


So please, worrywarts, off my pants!!! Take a deep breath and take it easy! Have fun or you'll get a real bad stiff neck and hyperacidity!!! :-P

My Pop Star Stint

I always knew I'm not meant to be a pop superstar but everyone seems to keep insisting that I should try my luck at it (Hello??? I dont look Britney-ish!!!). So ok, today I auditioned for a Pop Idol kinda' thing. I was actually not qualified for it because they needed 15-21 year olds and I knew that beforehand but I still filled out the forms and performed anyways. I guess the audition masters didnt notice it at first. Anyhow, they said I performed well except that they can't let me advance to the next stage because of the age rule. I told my friend Erik about it (he's notorious for mocking me about all the stupid things I do) and well, yes he did mock me!!! He was like, "What could be worse than that?" For me, I don't think there was anything wrong with that. It may be a bit corny but its not shameful at all. In fact, I'm glad I tried it coz it was such an experience. And I really enjoyed today! It was sort of like making my mom and my friends' long-time dream for me come true. They've always wanted me to try these things out and I did. I'm happy. :)




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Bamfoozled

I am a nutcase. But then again, I know I dont have to say that because it's common knowledge. But here's my head again...so overflowing with confusion. If someone would put some kind of a monitor that would show a graphical presentation of how my trail of thoughts go, it would be something like a fluctuating line that go straight at some points and then off to different directions and off the track at most...


There are just so many things I wanna do with my life. And i can't decide what to do first... And its like theres too much waiting to be done in most parts as well. Ugh... waiting is just the toughest part. But its God's way of teaching people to be still I guess...coz we need it to grow and learn important stuff like that thing they call patience (which you cant buy in stores). I wish that as my butt is still, my mind can do the same even for just a few seconds coz no matter how I try to quit thinking, i just think and think and think. Now I kinda miss the "blank wall" moments where I would just stare without much on my mind. But nevertheless, I'm thankful that my mind's not being idle. It's always active and kicking... and causing me to do "nutcasey" activities like teaching my dog how to sing...


Aaaargh, my head is swamped. Thats about it.





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My New Baby

I have a new baby... And well, she's a doggie. Yes, she's the one on the pic... A beagle (Snoopy's cousin). I named her Whoopie (It was supposed to be Skippy but my friend Tony protested that Skippy is a kangaroo and not a dog). Anyway, I'm writing about this because I'm really excited about my new baby... and I've learned a lot from this cute thing!

First, Whoopie taught me how to wake up early consistently. I work only every other day and during my days off, I am a total sluggard. I tend to be a slow poke and I end up not finishing what I plan to do. But during Whoopie's first days with me, she used to wake me up at exactly 4:45AM everyday so I'd take her out to pee or do other things. I know that's such a drag but I learned about the concept of total responsibility. I wanted the dog so I have to put up with everything that goes with her. (She's a gift I got from my new friend at work). And now that she's been with me for a month and a half, she wakes up a little later than that time but I get to do lots more now that I'm used to waking up early.

Second, Whoopie ripped off my mom's fear of dogs. My mom never liked the idea of having her in the house. We haven't had pets for a long time... and when we used to have dogs, my uncles were the ones who took them in their houses. But when Whoopie arrived, it was such a sweet thing to see my mom tending her like her youngest child. She's now a part of the everyday budget and meal plans. She even has her own room now (which happens to be the bathroom). It's obvious to everyone that she's the new member of the family... not only coz everyone seems to start baby-talking to her when they see her (which I find lame but tolerable). Even if I was the one who brought Whoopie in the house, my mom has taken the responsibility of bathing her; my brother, of feeding her; and my dad, of taking her out for walks. The only thing left for me to do is to buy all the "doggie stuff" she needs and play with her during my spare time.

Whoopie's sweetness is appreciated by everyone...even all the neighbors. I'm proud of her for that. My friend tells me that beagles are attention-seekers. Well, that's one of Whoopie's most obvious traits. She jumps around more when we get busy with other things and forget about her. She clings to our jeans when she sees us ready to go out. But what I appreciate is that she never sleeps until all four of us have come home. She waits at the porch or in the living room until one by one we have arrived. I always get to be the last to arrive. One time, I thought she was already asleep in the bathroom (her "bedroom") so I just went straight to my room, but when she heard my voice, she got up and knocked on my door. (I'm super going to miss her when I leave for Australia in August, waaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!)

Yep, that's my baby... :D

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The Next Future Me

Meet Baby Nicole... She's half-Romanian... Another niece of mine. Aint it obvious I'm proud of my nieces? She's only 6 months old and Shann is 3 years. Another 6 months and she'll be another little me. Hahaha! ;) I'm loving this...

Meet the Little Me

Little Shann


This is my little niece, Shann, the little me... She never ceases to make my days bright. SOme of my poems are about her.

I'm Baaaaaaaaaaacccccccckkkkkk

How do you like my comeback pics? Since i'm not in the proper condition to write (for a reason i dont know), im just going to post pics in the mean time...

When i cant write

It's not like anyone misses me but hey blog world, im back!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't write. What's wrong with me? I've been attempting to blog like normal for the past weeks but it seems like i dont feel like it. I've also missed doing a lot of things on here... most especially "prowling" through the blog world and looking for blogs to write comments on... most especially Ricky D's (How are u, buddy?).

It must be the exhaustion. Work tires me. But i think i've gotten the hang of it now. And i think i have a cooler perspective on things. Lesser drama, the better. And i think i've forgotten how it is to worry. Yea, i really have. Ask me how, i might remember how i did it.

I miss writing poems... I havent written in a while. And i never really got to re-write the one that got lost. So annoying...

Grrrrrrrr blog

The other day, i tried to post a new blog entry. I wrote this really long poem from the bottom of my heart. Nope, it wasnt mushy or anything like that but I kinda put my whole head into it. And like nature felt like playing a stupid joke on me, the screen just suddenly froze when I tried to publish it. And well, yes, i lost the whole poem. I couldnt believe it! It felt like the day I rode a cab carrying some important documents I needed for my board exams and left the whole thing and I cried and cried and cried at the thought that I was back to zero and I had to get all those documents over again...

No, I didnt cry about the poem. I felt a little sad and well, umm... I was in the "grrrr mode" after that happened. Heck, that poem was long and I liked it and I felt like if I'm going to write it again, i wouldnt like it just as much as before! So yeah, it sucked that I lost it coz the stupid screen froze for no reason at all.

Hmmmmmmmm........

I was going to start reflecting about all the other things I have lost in the past that mattered in a way or another that made me sad, but I'm like, "Naaahhhhh...never mind..."

I havent blogged in a while. I just got home from my camping adventures at some solitary camping site about six hours away from my place. I had so much fun with my friends!!! We were there for three days and we took part in some challenges like those in Amazing Race and Fear Factor. There were some really "eeew challenges" that I'd hate to elaborate but despite that our faces had to be "drenched" in mud and other "eeew stuff" and we totally lost all the poise and dignity we had left, my friends and I don't regret joining the "misadventures".

I lost my voice though. Thats another thing that I lost that makes me sad. I can't sing. Waaaaaaaaah! Now I dont have anything against the ghosts at my workplace. Haha! But really, its hard to lose your voice. You're forced to just keep quiet and whatever people say, you have to just nod or shake your head or do other funny stuff just to be understood. Its not like I can't talk anymore. Its just hard coz I get a headache and I sound like a 90-year old. Funny coz I just did a book report for a friend of mine three weeks ago and the title of the story was "The Mystery Of The Lost Voice". What a coincidence!!!

Lemme try working on that poem again...




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The day i told myself i wont post a blog but i still did anyway coz i cant figure out something better to do...

So i face my computer with a lot of things racing through my head. I didnt go to work today because its Tuesday. Im off on Tuesdays and Thursdays and weekends. I spent the day designing and finishing a backdrop for my church's 15th year anniversary celebration on Sunday. It should be fun!!! I had so much doing the art works and stuff. Ive missed being creative. Sometimes i feel like things come too easy nowadays that many situations dont warrant much thinking anymore. Well, its just my own opinion. ..

Anyway, I love art really. Today my friend made me look at this real nice world-class painting and asked me to write a reaction on it. Just one paragraph. Im thankful that he didnt make me do anything longer than that 'cause I dont think I would have had enough zest to force out of myself to do it. I happen to have written his lil sister's book report too last week so I feel like I've had "a little" enough of stuff that reminds me of my "sweet school days".

Wait, im not done with this blog yet but im kinda sleepy so maybe i'll just write something better the next time i tell myself i wont post a blog but still do it anyway coz i cant figure out something better to do...

Or I could write about a dead roach or something...

About the dead mouse behind my closet

Yes, I can't believe im posting a blog entry about a dead mouse, but uhumm I'm doing it. Ive not been online for ages and I actually feel like I'm doing this all over again...like I'm new on the internet or something... like this is the first time I've ever blogged... NOT! Hahaha! I'm just trying to recondition myself here.

Okay, back to the ridiculous dead mouse story...

I was cleaning up my room after about 48 years and tadaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh.... I saw a dead little mouse behind my closet. So here I go shriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!!!!!

"What's wrong?" It's my brother to the rescue.
Poker face. "A dead mouse, look." I said trying to look sheepish so he'd help me get rid of it.
"Oh please... You're not afraid of live mice." Yeah, my sheepish face didnt work. And he wasnt there to the rescue after all.
"Yeah but this is dead. Its different. Its creepier when its dead...And it stinks too..." I argued.
I think I saw my brother in an expression of wanting to erase his face or something.
"You're hopeless..." he said and took the dustpan and swept the dead mouse away.

Yay bro! And that's basically the story of the dead mouse.

What i'm trying to point out here is not the fact that I'm such a whiny little scaredy cat (I'm scared of even big dead spiders too) or that i hate dead mice. Truth is, I dunno why im writing about this. But its a simple scenario of my not-so-simple life that made so much impact on me. There are lessons to learn from a dead mouse. Lessons of courage. I know i shouldn't have shrieked. I could have swept it out myself and spared myself of being called hopeless and feeling like a total whining loser. And there's the realization that a dead mouse is kinda like spilt milk...its something not worth crying over (or in this case, shrieking over). And there's the other realization that yeah, I guess I really am hopeless sometimes. And that sometimes, my brother does little heroic acts I take for granted because I'm busy being self-centered and trying to be a hero myself.

Oh and yeah, I should be cleaning up my room more frequently.

Well, there's lots to learn from a dead mouse, indeed.

Ghosts

There are ghosts at my work place. Lots of them of all shapes and sizes. I could also mean just the annoying people that my friends and i refer to as "ghosts", but in this case i mean the entities from the other realm. Yes, the real goosebump-causing, hair-raising ones.

I saw a man wearing white standing 5 meters away from me outside the kitchen behind a glass wall that lead to the stairs. He was watching me drain the sterilized hospital trays. His top looked like a chef's uniform, but i couldn't see his face. I went back into the room and told my staff about him. It was a bit odd having someone there, we thought, because we are on the third floor and nobody really comes up there just for the mere purpose of watching. In the first place, there's nothing worthy of watching in the dietary department... except maybe the food??

My staff said that the man could just be the guy who sometimes goes up to our floor to clean up. I agreed and went back outside to go on with what i was doing. I looked at where he was standing but he was gone. I roamed my eyes throughout the whole area but he was nowhere to be found, so i just stopped looking. After about ten seconds, i accidentally just looked and i found him standing near the spot where he previously stood and he was still watching. It gave me the creeps and I wondered where he came from cause he got there so fast, but I went inside not saying a thing. I just kept on convincing myself that it was a hospital personnel.

That was until the "clean-up" guy came in rushing to tell us the news that a patient downstairs, whose room was near the spot where I saw the man, saw a creepy figure opening the room door. That patient asked to be transferred to another room. I asked the guy if he was the one watching me drain the trays. He said it wasnt him. So we rushed to the exact site where I saw the man. We found out that he was standing in a spot that is not possible to be stood upon by a normal person. The area was covered with grills that couldnt be pushed and there was no way any ordinary person can get in there.

There was a bit of a commotion when people learned about my "sighting". They wanted to know how "he" looked like and if he floated or what. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it and make "him" think he's so important. He's not. He's just some bored entity trying to scare the heck out of me. Then people started telling me their own experiences and those of others. They told me about babies crying at night, patients being awakened by a mystery person, a man wearing black, a little girl, a cat following a nurse, a lady wearing white in the x-ray room, a head floating around...

With everything I heard, I just kind of automatically got used to the idea that I have more to see so I guess I've somehow prepared for it.

And yesterday it happened again. I saw a shadow on the wall and it walked really fast, like it was trying to escape from my presence. That was right after the hospital administrator herself had her first share of the creeps. She was inside a room checking on a sleeping patient and the doorknob suddenly turned. And it just kept turning like the person outside was having a hard time getting in for some reason. She just stared at it for a moment and she saw that the door was not even locked. She thought that a nurse was trying to get in to check on the vital signs of the patient, so the doctor opened the door. But yeah you guessed it, there was nobody outside the door. There was not even a single person on the floor. So she rushed to the nurses' station and asked everyone if anybody went to that room. Of course there was no one. Anyway, the shadow that I saw was at the wall of that same room. I think it went real fast cause I was singing something that it couldnt take.

Everytime I pass by those areas now, I sing. I think it makes them tremble. Funny. And I enjoy the idea of scaring them. I only wish it scares the "other ghosts" too so they would shut up and mind their own beeswaxes!

I think i was a boy in my past life...

Hahaha! (Okay, how many blogs should start with hahaha?). Its a signal that this is going to be pretty insane.

I don't believe in past lives really, but i still say this statement coz theres no other way i can think of putting it. It just got into me how I seem to like doing boy stuff. I like to play the drums (Yes, the drums magnetize me and when i see one, I rush to play even when im wearing a skirt! Mock me!). I like cars and races. I like video games. I like watching NBA and NFL. But no, I don't like women. Just because I'm having "men fatigue" doesn't mean I'm gay. Uh-ugh. I'm just a girl cowboy...or something. Hahaha!

Maybe this is the reason why its easy for me to be friends and get along well with guys. My social circle isn't an all-girly group either. The only problem I usually have is that men start to eventually ask for more than friendship. It happens many times. Sometimes I feel like its not really possible to keep something "platonic" with them. But I do have guy friends who are just there to stay insane and goof around through thick or thin, in sickness or in health.

I'm close with my bro as well. We went to the same schools together and I remember that when we used to bump into each other in campus, we were either borrowing money to buy junkies or telling each other to piss off and keep away from each other's friends. He's two years younger than me. We fight a lot, yeah. That's normal...especially that we're both obnoxious beings who emerged from the same unobnoxious womb. But my brother influences my liking for basketball and football. He's the only sibling I have, by the way. I have two older "sisters", who are my cousins and whom I'm very close with as well. They were the ones responsible for "honing" the girly side of me... I'm just guessing.

My dad's one of my best friends as well (My mom too, but were talking about the origin of my "boyhood" and its influences). He doesnt treat me like a boy but he's my jogging bud. And he's the funniest guy I know. I think I got a huge part of the insanity from him ( Too bad he won't read this). His jokes are hilarious and whenever he's around, there's always laughter. He has very creative ways of telling you his friend's names. He gives out funny clues and stuff and until you're almost choking from too much laughing, he won't stop. Yep, that's my dad. When he talks about serious things like the fact that I would be married in the future, he puts in a way that is not irritatingly pressuringly baffling. That I'm close with him makes me feel like any "men problems" I may have can just be laughed off. Not that they should ot be taken seriously. They should just be taken lightly. The song "Butterfly Kisses" tells our story. Its about a dad singing a song about his little girl from the time she learned how to ride a pony to when she turned 16 to when he had to give her away on her wedding day...

Okay, before this turns into something gooeystick, I have to find my point. My point is that there's my dad and bro to blame for my boyish interests. This is something rather inconspicuous really. People don't think these are what I like to do until they see me hitting the drum set wearing a nicey-nicey skirty with dangling earrings and makeup. Or till they learn I cheer for Lakers like there's no tomorrow and that I know the history of the NBA.

Case closed. I'm a boy. Live with it.

And no, Ricky D, I don't smile more widely about the dessert thing (In reference to the comment I got to the blog entry below this). I pretend I don't hear it. Thats easier. ;-)

My Thoughts Disintegrated

So I'm supposed to be in my office now but i went out looking for a computer shop where I can blog. Yes, I'm this terrible! I'm bored.

I now work in a hospital as Chief Dietitian. I started Monday of last week. And well, I got my first pay yesterday. Yay! Thats awesome, I know. I can go shopping this weekend. At this hour, it usually gets real boring coz theres nothing to do. And I'm allowed to go out. So here I am now doing something totally not related to my job. It's called de-stressing.

Hey I need a break anyway. I've not really asked for a break out loud but they gave me one now. I've not been in-front of the computer for days coz i get totally exhausted and when I get home, I'd be a dead cabbage. I'd just take a shower and crash. No more quality time with my pc. Yes, no dinner too. I'm an undernourished nutritionist. My mom got a good look of me the other day and she was like, "You look like a stick." And I replied, "At least a smiling stick, ma!"

Starting next week, I can already report to work on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays only. But for my first two weeks (which will end this Friday), I have to be at the hospital everyday to familiarize myself with the routines and stuff. But I'm already familiar. SO now I'm re-familiarizing myself with my blogging habit.

For days, I've been putting up with everyone getting so excited to "meet the newbie". I'm glad everyone's been nice. But i've also been putting up with this doctor who goes to my area after lunch declaring that my smile is his dessert. And this other guy who keeps popping on the fridge near my office to get water about 7 times in a minute and then asking me stuff like how old i am or where i live or do i have a boyfriend tralalala. And these buncha students doing on-the-job training who hang out near the stairs that lead to the Dietary Department. There are men everywhere. My friends say they think I should wear a helmet. But I dont need that. My defenses are up even if I don't tell them. It's called "men fatigue".

Anyway, my friend Michael is helping me with my moving to Australia. I've changed my mind about going to Singapore to work. I've just laid out better plans, which I'm still prayin for.

Before I got this job, my thoughts were disintegrated. They were everywhere and no one could talk to me straight. All I could do right was to write poetry. BUt then this job came and the hope of getting the paper I need to go to Australia. I'm just thankful. I see a little direction now. ANd I'm really happy about how things are going.

This job is tiring. Really tiring. There's no elevator and my department is on the third floor while my office and the nurses' station is on the first floor. Imagine how many times I have to go up and down in a day. My consolation is that my staff's a crazy and happy bunch. They keep me sane.

And yes, Im ready to throw away the treadmill.

Okay, I gotta go back to the hospital now.

Warped

Today is a warped day. What's a warped day like? Simple. It is one that has the following characteristics in no particular order, which would manifest in you possibly all together or one at a time:

1. Lack of coordination
   
2. Inability to think (or walk) straight
   
3. Slurred speech
   
4. Incoherent blabbering
   
5. Inexplicable gestures
   

And these are not induced by alcohol or drugs or any chemical substances. They just happen like some weird inexplicable phenomenon you can't control.

Here's a scenario....

I went by the grocery store just to pick up something before going to work. I saw an acquiantance, who I've seen for about four times already just this morning. So in staggering steps, I went up to her...

"Hi! What are you doing here?"

She just smiled. Duhhhhhh at me! She's grocery shopping, what the heck?!

"Errr-- I mean, I see you everywhere. You're ubiquitous!" I said. I thought I said that so fast I saw her eyebrows twitch.

"I'm what?" She asked with a short laugh, her eyes conspicuously showing that she thinks I must be on drugs on something.

"Oh nothin. Don't mind me, I'm a mental asylum escapee..." I said, in a dead seious tone that made it sound like I was saying something with so much sense.

"You're a what?" She laughed like there's no tomorrow. And I was drumming on the shelf (Why on earth?!)

I came to myself and I wondered why I said that. I forced a laugh and told her I should be shopping. But I wasnt really there to shop so I wondered again why I said that. But anyway, I left her... probably believing that I am really what I claim to be... a mental asylum escapee.

You get the point? Anywayzzz, I think I have developed this great liking for the word "warped". I don't know why, but it started when I was in the hospital (If you dont know the story, see my blog entitled "What The Heck?!" at www.bubblegumbraininaknapsack.blogspot.com). Maybe its because I like how it sounds... and also 'cause thats how I see things sometimes.

I wrote a poem when I was in the hospital and it had the lines "My vision showed everything warped." But I wrote a new poem and entitled it "Warped". I figured I should give it a little independence and let the word stand by itself.

Warped

I wrote you something

But left it inside my head

Circling, hanging

Like a disease ready to spread.

And its going to burst

Anytime I decide

Like a little curse

That toppled on my pride.

For when I see you,

I remember all throughout

Like the times I had the flu

I wish to sneeze it all out.

But when I wrote you something,

I didnt have strength enough

To pretend I'm hurting

'Cause I'm not, I'm really not;

And what I feel right now

Are the knots in my stomach.

I'm tired somehow,

Somehow it's all warped.

I swiped a little dignity

But it turned out a scrap;

I suspended in monotony.

So I'm whispering,

Wishing I could go back

To the time I was wishing

That you would come back,

So I can let you know

What's hanging in my head.

But seeing your shadow

Leaves it all dead.

I'm out.

A Blog of Thanks To An Unknown Friend (Rewritten)

I have written this blog before on my other blogger account www.bubblegumbraininaknapsack.blogspot.com It's a tribute to my "unknown" friend Ricky D (www.chachonips.blogspot.com), the first person to ever post a comment on my very first blog (which was entitled "A Blog About Sex"). However, I deleted some blogs (including my very first blog) one insane day when I thought it was the best way to forget some things that I wanted to let go of. I also deleted even the tribute for Rick from my page, which included a poem. But I didn't really completely delete it. I copied it onto Word and saved it. When he had learned about the deletion, he didnt understand why I had to do that. Well, ummm...I didn't really understand either. I just thought at that moment that it was the right thing to do. (Blame it on the impulses of my youth.) But rest assured, whatever I wrote on there, I meant all of 'em. I was just confused.

When I read what I saved, I thought its better to rewrite it. I know that most of the time, the original piece always is the best, but I have found a deeper reason for doing this. The girl who wrote that tribute before isn't the same girl who is re-writing it now. I could still feel the negative vibes that girl was feeling towards some people while she was posting that blog, despite that it was about something positive...which is moving on.

Let me just tell you why I wrote that "Blog of Thanks" for my friend. Its true that we are just strangers in this "crazy mixed-up internet of ours" (these are his words). But Ricky D and Bubblebrain (that's me) surprisingly stepped into some parallel dimension at the same point in time. At a simultaneous moment, they were overwhelmed and overcome by considerable grief due to "relationship problems" (an understatement). When I say "parallel", I mean it was a totally amusingly similar situation. And yet they don't know each other. They are just a buncha goofballs commenting on each other's blog pages.

Maybe Ricky D thought that my deletion of that blog meant that I was not sincere when I wrote it. He stopped posting comments and "avoided" my page for a time. And whoa, that boggled me! His insights have become like a staple to my blog life.

But I'm glad he's back...and with a photo too!

I re-wrote this because I wanted to "refresh" it (And I hope it's okay, Ricky D). I feel like I'm a different person now. But even if I feel that way, I won't cease thanking people who have helped (and still are helping) me truly move forward....even those I haven't even met in person yet.

So Ricky D, THANKS...AGAIN. ;-) And good luck on finding yourself like you told me you wanted to do.

The Day After My Birthday

The day after my birthday, my grandma died. She's my dad's aunt, the last of my late grandma's sisters. She had cancer.

I remember the time when we first learned she was sick. The doctor couldn't tell her, so my dad and aunt had to do it. She said she was ready to hear anything then, but when she was told of the situation, she was so scared. She felt too weak just hearing that she was sick.

Despite that she wasnt told about what the doctor really said---that she only had a few, VERY FEW, months to live--she was the one who kept repeating it. She kept saying she wasn't going to probably live that long and would rather just let it be.... like she wanted to die right then. She wanted to stop all treatments. She didn't want the cure.

But of course, no one listened to her. She was admitting defeat. Not good. Very wrong. But we all fought for her and kept lifting her spirits up. We wanted her to go on with that fight. Miracles do happen...and that's something that I personally believe, having had my own near-death experience when I was four years old.

When I was four, I died for about fifteen minutes. My heart stopped beating. I used to write endlessly about this before. I kept telling it to friends a long time ago. But I got tired somehow. But everytime something like this happens...everytime death waves its eerie wand indicating its near presence at any place, I remember my experience. There were white lights and people crying around me. And I was sitting on the hospital bed just looking around. I never really understood what was happening. But that is all I could remember of it.

So everytime someone gives up on life and seemingly welcomes death with open arms, I clench my fists. I hate to hear something like that. Life is too sweet to give up on...even if death is starting to do the cradling.

Dying must be a weird experience. I am always boggled by how much time it actually takes to lose our life. A nanosecond? Shorter? I dunno, but maybe it happens so fast, the body doesnt even realize whats going on at that instant. See, I died....for fifteen minutes... but I cant even explain what happened...or how it happened. It was called clinical death. But I came back with more sense. I came back and now I regard life with more significance.

I know there's eternity. Life doesnt really stop at death. But how do these things really happen?

Anyway, my grandma fought. I know she didn't want to, but she did fight. And for that, I'm proud of her.

When she was getting weak, we were all kind of accepting that she might not be with us for long. But I was going to have my birthday. I prayed that she won't go on my birthday. I didnt tell it to her. I just whispered it to God. And God must have granted my wish. She took her the day after.

Her fight isn't over just because she lost her life. She wasn't defeated... because I'm here writing about how she fought. She fought with so much courage. She fought with love. She fought with a smile. She fought. And all our fond memories of her and lessons she taught us will live on. I must have written this line a couple of times before, but despite that I can never really explain how she actually fought, the world will know through me...and all the people who love her... that death never really won.

Burpday Blog

Today's my birthday! It's happy. Totally awesome! I love it! This is my best birthday ever! That's all I can say.

What's new?

I made this new account so I can move on and kinda' quit sitting in a corner wondering about ME, ME, and ME. I hate it that I've been focusing too much on myself lately-- my growth (or UNgrowth), mistakes, failures, and other stuff. I think I've had enough of the "all-self phase" of my life. I'm not saying that it's bad to do a little self-assessment and to think about what you're going to do. But OVERdoing it is what makes it bad. (Well, I think overdoing anything is bad, anyway).

So I've decided to focus more on other people that surrounds me. My friends, my family, people I bump into...I want to talk about them more. I happen to be addicted to tributes (just as to being hugged). Not that I won't be blogging about myself completely anymore. I'm just going to...ummm... be a lil less of the self-important sponge twit that I usually am. I'd also like to try to notice more of my surroundings. I've been too busy sulking and crying about my problems and "spilt glasses of milk" that I've kinda' forgotten how it is to roam my eyes around and appreciate the things around me.

I guess I like the new person that I am now. I don't care what others would think of what I would write but I'm free to do whatever because this is MY account. MINE. Mruwahahaha! So in the next days, you'll read more crazy stuff... about me...and lots of other people (and things) that have made (and still continue to make) a difference in my life that everyone else can learn special lessons from.

But lemme celebrate my birthday first. :D

This is my last day being 22

Tomorrow's my birthday!!! And yeah, im announcing it. My mom thinks I'm insane for doing that 'czuse most people would rather keep their birthdays to themselves. But no, not me. Hahaha! I love to have fun on my day. And it is MY day after all. Its the only time of the year when I am excused for even the silliest things I am capable of doing.

This is the second blogger account I've done. Ive been blogging about my burpday for days on the other account and I'm sure my friends must be tired of reading about it now. But as I always say, my birthdays are always a celebration of the friendships I have made throughout the years. My friends make me feel special and they are huge reasons why life is worth living as well. Yeah yeah, I may sound too cliche-ish and nerdy and cheesy and all the vomit-inducing stuff but I mean it everytime I say that.

So anyway, i'm really looking forward to another year of whacks on the head, cartwheels, and tip-toes on broken glasses that life makes me experience to make me a strong human being... and to scoff at me too.

And I'm looking forward to the weirdest birthday greetings, red and heart-shaped gifts I would be receiving (which I get every year coz of the Valentine's Day aftermaths.).

Urrrrrgggggghhhhhh, I'm getting older!!! Aaaaaaah!!!!! (That's high-pitched.) Okies, I'm over reacting. Bummer, I have to grow up. And I'm like, "Awwwww... do i really have to?"

Yes, I have to. But I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad if I let little nawdy rascal me sneak in once in a while. There are always going to be days that would need her, I'm sure. Mruwahaha!

Alright, I'm outta' here for now. I gotta go make something worth remembering out of my last day being 22. Hmmm...

This what ya call starting anew...

LIFE IS SUCH A BUMMER SOMETIMES. It goes round and round and when you look at it closely...even intelligently sometimes... it doesn't seem to make any good sense.

That's sometimes. I'm not saying always. And well, I'm tired of rolling around going nowhere and doing meaningless things, meeting meaningless people. It's very true that what robs us of all our strengths and our capacities to think is not the overload of things to do, but having too much of what we don't really need to do. And I have a lot of that. SO, I'm throwing 'em away.

But even if life isn't perfect and sometimes I feel like it always whacks me in the head for no apparent reason...or slaps me too hard...or breaks my bones...or drains me of all my energy, I still love it. And I guess just by doing that-- declaring to life's poker face that I still love it despite everything-- I WIN.

So lemme start anew...for real...and more seriously this time.

CONGRATULATE ME, FOLKS! :) I win, I win, I win!!! :-)