the cereal bowl

2011-09-01T06:23:00.005+08:00

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7

[EDIT: Many months after accidentally posting this empty entry because my touchscreen phone got jostled around my pocket and SOMEHOW, the blogger app got ACTIVATED, I stumble on Karsten's comment. That has got to be some sort of validation for someone to even comment on a non-blog post. Hihihihi...

Although, this is not to say I will be blogging anytime soon. I am going through a phase many experts call LAZY.]

A Fear Of Commitment

2011-05-28T12:50:00.007+08:00

I've never purchased anything on installment (not even on 0% interest for 12 months), never borrowed money from a bank or even from the SSS (I understand we're allowed to, one of those adult things I was never aware of.), and I've been wary of entering contracts of any sort. The closest thing I've gotten to binding myself to some corporate entity is my 2-year postpaid mobile phone contract and 1-year broadband contract. And even when that broadband contract ended last year, I didn't apply for retention despite the various enticements that Smart offered. (A printer, or a phone or some minuscule monthly rebate. Right.) The reason is, I don't like committing myself to these things because some obscure event might trigger me changing my mind in an instant. Like what happened this week.

It was one of my very rare days off and internet at home was busted. Called tech-support and after having established that I had basically done every form of resetting, restarting and reconfiguring that they could throw at me, they promised to send someone the next day to fix the antenna thingamajig. Somebody came, went up the roof and rotated the antenna. Internet was still a little slow but at least there was a connection. Tech guy said there was some ongoing technical enhancement and that the connection should improve in a couple of hours. Wasn't really able to check on that because I had to go on yet another 36-hour duty.

37 hours later, status post double code and a final gunshot wound admission, I arrived home, exhausted, feeling a little sick and STILL with fcky internet. Signal was so erratic, I had 12 hours until I had to go on a 24-hour duty and sad to say, I spent those precious hours trying to fix things. Called tech support and he goes, "Open command prompt and type 'ipconfig release'" repeatedly and I kept saying "Dude, it says incomplete command. Isn't there supposed to be a forward slash there somewhere?" And then he goes, "Um, why don't you try that. And uh, type 'ipconfig'... you know about this already, right?"

"NO." Okay, maybe it isn't his fault he mistook me for some IT person because I can sound like such a smart ass. Anyway, I wouldn't have gotten pissed if he didn't tell me that, "Maybe you should have your LAN card checked. There's nothing wrong from our end here. Maybe there's something wrong with your laptop."

Maybe there was something wrong with my LAN card. I'm not tech-savvy enough to know what that even looks like but he seriously couldn't explore the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there's something wrong with the antenna? My phone had the same problem with the WiFi and I'm not sure if phones even have LAN cards, should I go have that checked, too? And so I was pissed. And that state of pissed-ness led to a 2-year contract with Globe. I went to their wireless center, purchased one of their portable WiFi things and applied for cancellation of my subscription to Smart.

So the moral of the story is, try not to get pissed when you've only had 3 hours of sleep. Or you'll end up paying P1,300 every month for the next 24 months.

The Day I Swapped My Dad For Two Goldfish

2011-05-05T12:15:00.010+08:00

Actually, that's one of the few Neil Gaimans I haven't read. I already have goldfish at home (well, my mom does) and even if I didn't, I wouldn't trade my dad for them. Not even if they were magical and held the secret to world peace or perfectly bouncy hair. I was too lazy to think of a title less dumb than The Day I Went Nuts Because I Couldn't Find My Pen.

A black Pilot GTEC C4 sign pen to be exact.

It's not a secret that I can be anal about my writing implements. I've been using this specific type of Pilot since high school, roughly 15 years now, and I simply don't like using any other kind. And then one early sunny morning, I woke up with a sunny disposition (I always do, don't argue.) to admit a pregnant woman scheduled for a cesarean section and I was almost through with my admitting orders and history when I had to go get the fetal heartbeat. When I got back to my admitting counter, MY PEN WAS GONE. The horror!

I rifled through all the papers, searched every nook and cranny of the ER counter, checked my pockets... hell, if my underwear had pockets, I'd have looked there too but alas, it was nowhere to be found. I retraced my steps, checked the container for the Doppler, still nada. I even checked and rechecked empty pockets because you never know, magicians pull rabbits out of empty hats, why couldn't I pull a sign pen out of an empty pocket? And you know how sometimes you look for something and then later realize that you've been holding it in your hand all along? Well, I stared at my empty hands, like some lunatic, just to be sure.

I was ready to go into a full-blown tantrum. It's not that I can't write with a Uni pen (yech), I'm not that moronic, but I won't like doing it. No matter how busy it gets, even if I get bombarded with a truckload of patients, as long as I'm using my pen, nothing could faze me. My gloved hands could be covered in blood but I'd still be cracking jokes. Not in front of the patients of course, but you know.

Anyway, I was running out of options. I even went so far as to accuse the charge nurse of hiding my pen.

Me: Chingkaaaaaay! Aha akong sign pen baaaaaa? Stop hiding it!
Nurse: Nganong itago man lugar nako, doc?
Me: Kay you know man nga maboang ko kung di nako makita! Where is it lagi baaaaaa? (whilst feeling her up in a completely non-sexually harassing way)
Nurse: Na, ambot nimo, doc. Basin naa didto sa patient, sa iyang bed.
Me: Nganong moabot man lugar didto beh?

But I was already considering where in the patient's bed my pen could be. And the dilemma of how I was to go about looking for it presented itself. Do I have her turn to sides to see if she was lying on it? Do I shake her blanket? Those options seemed too, well, unprofessional so I made up excuses to keep going back to her bed to look for it out of the corner of my eye. First I informed her of her pediatrician (even though she already knew). Then I informed her she can't eat anymore (even though she already started fasting the night before). Then I told her she would be going to her room in a few minutes. Then I just resorted to peeking in between the curtains to see if I could spot it on her bed without her knowing I was there looking, like some crazy voyeur.

Fresh out of ideas, I was practically yelling, "I am not admitting another patient until I find my pen! Ching! Where's my pen?! Stop hiding it ba!" And then the patient was wheeled to her room and I rushed to the bed she vacated. I turned over the pillow, almost yanked out the bedsheets and there it was, hidden beneath the linen.

*grin*

Double rainbow!

I sat back down, happily admitted the two dialysis patients that arrived during my near tantrum. And when no less than FOUR patients came in at the same time for their scheduled cryosurgeries and had to be admitted in a span of *minutes* because the surgeon was waiting at the operating room, I was all like, "Bring it on."

Eggs-planations

2011-04-24T11:30:00.012+08:00

Pardon the pun but it IS Easter Sunday. I even made an Easter egg but we'll get back to that later.

I remember hearing (or reading?) that you can't really write unless you've gone out and experienced things. And I am using this excu... valuable bit of wisdom to explain why I have been blogless for the past couple of weeks, er, months. Except for a short stint in Hong Kong, I've mostly been at the hospital. Life here can be exciting but I can't really talk about it. Apart from patient confidentiality (yes, even if I don't name names, someone is bound to realize that he's the crazy hypochondriac I'm talking about), not everybody wants a peek into the gory details of hospital life. And no, duties aren't like they are in Grey's Anatomy, where everybody is taking turns at having sex with everybody else, lesbians and bisexuals included. (On the bed, on the floor, on a towel by the door. Hehehe.... Remembering that I'm Fucking Matt Damon video.)

There have been episodes where I wanted to blog about something and then realized after writing it down that I sounded like a moron. Here's an excerpt from one of them:

I want Jane's external drive.

Two months worth of bloggables and I come back to write about an external drive. I feel like I should be writing about something important like how oil prices are affecting my need to take a taxi to work (seriously, taxi fares are so expensive now!) but I can't help it if I am literally experiencing chest pain just looking at the damned thing. The damned thing being a small, 1 terabyte external drive that doesn't require a stupid external power source.

This episode was later followed by chest pains when Marisse bought her dad a Galaxy Tab. Then there was Vanessa's pink Vaio netbook. I try not to indulge in my impulses to buy these pretty things because before you know it, I'd end up on a downward spiral of retail therapy involving the purchase of another iPod shuffle because the new one has a playlist option unlike the one I already have.

Anyway, nothing much outside the hospital has happened except for that time I was in Makati and had THE BEST CARBONARA IN THE UNIVERSE! The white chocolate carbonara at Max Brenner is just insane.

On the other hand, things have been happening to other people. Dennise had her hair done on Wednesday, then had her appendix taken out the next day. Julette has been busy with... stuff (and took forever to tell us about it!) and Marisse saw this Shakespeare in Hollywood play in Makati during a work trip. How come my work trips don't involve plays and, ahem, stuff?! Will pass on the appendectomy, though. Ouch.

So, back to Easter. I wanted to paint eggs per Easter tradition. Vaguely remember something about not playing with your food but hey, it's Easter. Not sure how Jesus feels about it but anyway... I brought two hard-boiled eggs to work but I dropped one and unfortunately, I don't have the skillz to pull off a post-fall Humpty Dumpty egg. So I had to settle for one that I painted to look like a doctor. I couldn't make a female one. Didn't know how to draw boobs on an egg.

Look at him, with his collar and tie, auscultating himself, like he's pleasantly surprised that he has a heartbeat. The stethoscope may have been taped to his chest seeing as he has no arms.

And now comes the age-old dilemma surrounding Easter Eggs. To eat or not to eat?

S/P Hiatus

2011-02-28T10:31:00.007+08:00

I know I haven't blogged for 2 months and it's not because the loss of my Xperia left me too depressed to write anything. Speaking of, I bought another one. Another pink Xperia, I mean. I couldn't stand the heartbreak for more than a month. And I bought the exact same one. My heart didn't leap in anticipation this time, what with the knowledge that this is simply a replacement, a "rebound phone" if you will. Sometimes, looking at it makes me sad. I still wish that thief falls on a pile of poop. It's only fair.

Anyway, it's not like there isn't anything to blog about. I just got back from chasing schoolgirls at Causeway Bay, delivered a baby that was so small it practically shot out of her mom's vagina, ate and disliked the new KFC Cheesy Bacon Twister, fawned all over Siena in Junior Master Chef Australia, experimented with scrambled eggs as a result of insecurities surfacing after watching Junior Master Chef Australia, got sufficiently drunk with tequila and some other rum thing, cut my hair but not significantly enough for anyone to notice, sat through a painful Bieber Glee episode, burned through 3 korean tv series already, AND I bought Lysol. See? Exciting.

I blog in my head all the time. My mind is a constellation of blog entries, superimposing over one another, thoughts jumping synapses or whatever it is that thoughts do on their free time. The problem is translating those thoughts onto the internet. I don't have access to the internet at all times of the day, I don't like making drafts and I rather prefer typing over writing with a pen. I just type faster than I can write and well, I write better when I type. Which probably explains the quality of my diary entries in high school. (My Larrion stories still make me laugh, though.)

However, now that I have the time (and the inclination) to blog, I don't feel like talking of things past. That particular window has closed and well, right now, life is so-so. The highlight of my day today is reading about Danie wanting to call her baby sister SPAGHETTI which, while decidedly a yummy treat, really isn't something you should call a human being. Sure, work is relatively exciting. People dying, people living, people yelling that they are dying but really aren't, and people saying they aren't dying but actually are. But then again, if you encounter that everyday, that kind of makes it boring and humdrum. (No offense to people dying. You know what I mean.)

Last Friday was one of my rare days off and you know what I did for "fun"? I went to the supermarket to randomly buy things. I don't know. Maybe I'm just being a brat. Life can't be this boring. Or maybe I'm just so looking forward to what I'm sure will be a super-fun 6-week vacation a couple of months from now that anything in between kind of pales in comparison. :/

Heartbroken

2011-01-08T22:26:00.006+08:00

The city I love has betrayed me.

I was walking the streets of Divisoria, sling bag bumping against my hip, in a rush to get to where I was going. And while I may not speed through the streets like a madman on crack, I walk fairly fast. When I sat down at Marisse's law office, I opened my bag to check if I received any messages on my beloved pink Xperia mini pro.

But it was not there. (The phone. Not the messages. In case that wasn't clear.)

I called home to see if my phone was there. My mom couldn't find it. We tried calling but the phone wouldn't ring. I headed back home, just in case my mom had a huge blind spot and could not see the phone right in front of her, and in case my phone was under the bed and that particular square foot had no network coverage. (Pathologic optimism, what can I say.)

I hear stories about crime rates in my beloved Cagayan de Oro increasing, and about people getting robbed but you never think it'll happen to you until it does. Truth be told, I've never had anything stolen from me before. Well, there was that time in med school when someone pilfered my wallet from my backpack (hmm.. maybe that's why I don't like backpacks very much) but that loss only hurt my pocket, not my heart.

I have wanted this phone for the longest time. Its pinkness only magnified my fondness for it. Everything about it appealed to me. I know that there are better phones, that there are cheaper phones, but of what use is reason in matters of the heart? And I ♥ my Xperia mini pro.

I suppose I'll just have to get a new one. Pragmatically speaking, I could wait for my birthday in August so I can spread out my expenses over the year but I doubt my heart can stand being broken for that long. I don't know if the recurrent stabbing chest pain is a result of acid reflux or a reminder of my loss. And yes people, I'm sure there are more pressing problems in the universe like world hunger and diabetes but my heart is neither hungry nor diabetic. It won't stop feeling that way just like that.

I still love my city. We're just not on speaking terms right now.

♫ So this is Christmas... ♪

2010-12-25T12:25:00.001+08:00

I had already resigned myself to the fact that I will not be having a very merry Christmas, seeing as I was set to be on duty Christmas Eve (yet again). However, I did not expect to have a spectacularly sucky Christmas.

Let's start with breakfast. I didn't have any. Strike One.

I was so tired from not being able to sleep during the last 2 duties that Christmas Eve morning, I got out of bed late and I couldn't really take my time since I had to accompany Marisse on her panicked Christmas shopping. But I wasn't really hungry. For the past few days, maybe from all the stress, I was having indigestion and I felt bloated or something so yeko ra.

Shopping, shopping, shopping... then lunch. I really wanted to eat at KFC and while we had allowed for the lunch rush to subside, there were still a lot of people. I was seated at the table I was saving and Marisse was ordering our food. I really, really wanted to eat their Famous Bowl (with all the mashed potatoes drowning in gravy) BUT they did not have any. Strike Two.

We finished shopping just as the stores were about to close. (Actually, we were still at the cashier when they started turning off the lights.) I had an hour to get home and then head to the hospital. And I hadn't even wrapped my Christmas presents! (I had finished my Christmas shopping a week ago but I wasn't able to wrap them because whenever I got home from work, I, more often than not, ended up falling asleep in my work clothes, drooling on occasion.) So, with my duty bag packed and lugging around another bag with my unwrapped presents, I headed off to work, starving and optimistic that I could always have a Jollibee Christmas dinner.

I was so wrong.

Jollibee was closed and so was the convenience store in the gasoline station nearby. Well, I really couldn't get rightfully pissed because who was I to begrudge their employees their Christmas celebrations? Anyway, I trudged back to the hospital and made a Christmas Eve feast of the instant noodles I had purchased weeks before in the event of food emergencies. I just didn't think it'd be on Christmas Eve. Strike Tres..

I wasn't hungry anymore but neither was I satisfied. And it seemed like the hospital grinch was following me. I got a ward call for an IV insertion and when I entered the patient's room, there was the Christmas Feast I could not have. So while I was inserting an IV on his left hand, said patient was gorging himself on various meats and sweets with his right hand. Rub it in, why don't you.

My ward shift ended and just when I thought that the fates would not be so cruel as to send me admissions on Christmas Day, a 3-year old was brought in by his mother at 3 in the morning because of a 4-day fever. *sigh* The kid was foul-mouthed, too. Not because of all that vomiting, but mostly in reference to all the cursing. The mother was trying to placate him by threatening him with an angry baby Jesus but the kid continued summoning the devil, screaming, "Yawa!"

Dear Doctor,

Good morning and Merry Christmas. I would like to inform you that you have an admission. Yes, on Christmas Day. Three year old male, in for 4 days fever and vomiting. Clear breath sounds, non-hyperemic tonsils, mild dehydration. History of previous febrile seizures. Neurologic status: GCS 14-15, drowsy, irritable, possessed. No history of illicit drug use or previous exorcism. Diazepam 3mg IV prn for seizure, restlessness and general evil. Patient admitted at Station 4C, just above the hospital chapel.

Love,
Farina

At 12 noon today, my duty ended. I still have 12 hours left to Christmas but I have a feeling I will end up asleep in my work clothes again, most likely drooling on my pillow.

But that's okay. I'm optimistic. Jesus wasn't even born on the 25th. I can have my Christmas some other day. (Like on Sunday! During the annual 4R and Friends Christmas Party!)

A non-lucid (KCS) interval

2010-12-23T00:14:00.020+08:00

I usually blog in my head. At odd times in the day. I might be writing discharge summaries and suddenly I think to write about how the security guard refers *everyone* to the ER for any and all inquiries, as if we held all the answers, including the number for KFC deliveries. (We usually do. Know everything, I mean. Even fastfood delivery hotline numbers. Mostly out of eventual necessity. >_> Damn you, mister security guard guy!)

Then these tiny bits of mental writing get pieced together when I am in the mood and have enough time to blog. However, a constant problem is the matter of TIME. If I'm busy enough, the things I want to blog about eventually get spoiled and lose their flavor, like a glass of cola left on the kitchen counter. The humor, if there ever was any, fizzles out. Then I don't want to blog about it anymore because then it would just be stupid. And don't tell, but I don't like sounding stupid. Crazy, I can handle. Stupid, not so much.

Another problem is that lately, since I've been serially watching, well, korean tv series, my mental blogging has been confined to what Dennise refers to as Korean Crazy Shit. She says that I shouldn't talk about it so much if I want people to believe I'm not crazy. And she has a point. I am a doctor after all and people need to know that the people medicating them don't need to be medicated themselves.

However, if I keep it all in, all that Korean wai-ness bursts out eventually and I end up sputtering short bursts of random hangul like some sort of Korean Tourette's. (It has happened, don't you dare laugh. Especially words that involve the letter L. It is both cute and ridiculous how they pronounce Ls like they're trying to speak with a fistful of lozenges in their mouth.)

Actually, I am itching to talk about this new series I'm watching but like I said, I'm not supposed to talk about it because Dennise said it would be such a turnoff but... but... maybe I'll just approach it tangentially so as not to appear like I'm bombarding people with KCS... and oh, look at that! A poster! Of some random asian series! It looks to be Korean. And it stars two girls. Wait, that other one's a boy! (This is actually the whole point of my even mentioning this. I am crushing on both the male and female lead. And what's even weirder is, the guy looks like a girl. I don't know which is stranger --- that I have a singular fascination with cute girls ever since that Akazukin ChaCha anime I followed in high school OR that I am getting starry-eyed over a guy that looks like a cute girl. Kang Moo-Kyul! *screamfaints*)

Oh, well. That was me trying not to talk about my crazy obsessions. Sorry.

Why I'm starting to think using Lysol as a body spray is a good idea.

2010-12-08T14:35:00.012+08:00

Call me unproductive but my choices of things to do when I'm bored range from mindless internet surfing, to reading senseless books, to watching *stoopid* movies and tv series. This is not to include Purposeful Internet Searches in The Pursuit of Knowledge, Reading of Profound or Mysterious Books That Stimulate The Mind, and Viewing of Award-Winning Films That Give Insights Into Humanity. Those I actually schedule and plan, with snacks on the side. (Because all meaningful activities need snacks.)

But for the past few weeks, there have been precious little opportunities to be bored. And who would be, really? Not if you're at the hospital practically everyday, getting kicked in the face while inserting IV lines, avoiding huge hulking males who throw tantrums (as well as drinking glasses), trying to stop babies from coming out of vaginas because the obstetrician hasn't arrived.... yes, hospital life can be pretty exciting, if not terribly exhausting. (And just now, EARTHQUAKE! See??? Exciting.)

Anyway, since days off are very rare luxuries at the moment, I spend it doing whatever the hell I want, regardless of its level of productivity. Some mornings, just before taking a bath, it feels nice to just say, "Hey, I think I'll just stare at the ceiling for an hour. Maybe two.", and I just do it. Stare at the ceiling and think about totally random things like why I have the eyelashes of a boy or why my wrists never get fat.

I don't know. It's the same as last year. I always get busier during the Christmas season. I'm never at home and when I am, it's only to sleep and recharge until the next duty. I feel like I've changed residence. Sometimes, I just want to start begging for a change in scenery, any scenery.

I really should get out of this hospital for a while. I'm beginning to get addicted to the surgically sterile smell of the white Lysol. (But it really does smell awesome. I want to spray it on my face.)

A Public Proposal: A GWNN Special

2010-10-15T14:24:00.016+08:00

There are only three ways a wedding proposal in front of a crowd will go down. Either she says Yes because she really wants to marry you, or she says Yes because she's pressured into it by the mob you hired to cheer you on, or she flat out says No and leaves you with an engagement ring still caked in, well, cake.

But whatever the outcome, serious preparation always comes before the actual proposal.

I spent yesterday sifting through GWNN chat transcripts for 2010 and most of 2009. And I noticed that group chats lately have been few and far in between. For this year, it's been mostly Dennise and myself. Oh, I'm sure the other 2 girls also chat with each other and with Dennise but I don't have transcripts of those and I'm pretty sure they're not OC enough to actually save every session.

GWNN chat night has been a tradition since 2009 and lately, we keep postponing it. I keep planning but there's only so much rejection a person can take. I'm not sure why we've stopped doing it. We talked pretty much about everything but no matter what we talked about, it was always fun. Anyway, before I bully you girls into a chat night, I just wanted to remind you of the past year in chat...

HEALTH

Dennise: far? u there? u ok? u still sick?
Farina: here. Not sick anymore.
Dennise: yey! how did u do it???
Farina: Because I willed it to be so...

Julette: oh gawd, now i have a file on my laptop titled topless HAHA
Farina: just delete it after you see it.
Julette: hahaha! Saw it!! Not bad. Sure, dili washboard abs pero huggable kaayo. Imagine tapping THAT. lol.
Farina: tap tap tap
Julette: HAHAHAHAHA

Dennise: People stare at us in the tram!
Marisse: Why do they stare?
Dennise: Because grabe among cough ni Danie! Mura bitaw, unsa man ni mga foreigners oi!
Farina: Don't they cough in Germany?
Dennise: It's different when a foreigner coughs
Farina: You cough with an accent?

Dennise: Far try ha to get more votes! Karsten is beside me asking
Farina: Will harass nurses later sa hospital. Will sit them down in front of my laptop and make them login. Hahaha! Abuse of power kaayo.
Dennise: LOL. Do that! Shet, I can imagine that oi. As in Far, I can imagine na you sit them in front of your laptop and let them log in and walk them through the whole process!!!! LOL. Just like maka-imagine ko, actually, dli ko maka-imagine that's why I wanna see you barking orders in your turf ba.
Farina: I don't bark orders. I GIVE THEM IN A KIND SOFT VOICE DAMMIT! Hihihi..
Dennise: i was about to say not barking. but also not in a meek voice, heller. That just won't work. Not sexy doctor in action!
Farina: Haler, di jud sexy. Unsaon.
Dennise: i want to see u "barking" orders . i think i will day dream about that. But I'm having a hard time integrating into the daydream na you get all doctory while you're here in Germany. Like dili man ko ka daydream ug accident kay heller simbako palayo.
Farina: It's not like I'll just go into some random hospital there and start giving orders. Inamaw, ipapriso pa lang ko.
Dennise: LOL. ROFLOL. IPAPRISO! LOL! Random hospital barking orders. Tooooo funny!
Farina: hihihihi
Dennise: hahay.. I keep laughing and ana si Karsten "Why don't you share it with me?" Ana ko, "It won't be funny anymore." LOL!
Farina: LOL! Kaluoy sa imong bana. Gaka-imagine nako nga halos maglasong na ka ug katawa and Karsten is just looking at you, not understanding and begging to be let in on the joke
Dennise: lol. now lol again!!!!!!
Farina: Hahaha! Undang na oi! Sige katawa.
Dennise: LOL! too much

Dennise: Grabe kakusog akong corpus luteum
Farina: What?! What do you mean by that?
Dennise: umm, ok, kusog kaayo akong white blood, hehehehe. Grabe man gyud imong WHAT?!
Farina: Tingala pud ko. Kay the corpus luteum is that thing that's responsible for producing progesterone while the placenta is still developing and unable to produce its own progesterone. So mao nang WHAT?! kaayo ang reaction nako.
Dennise: So this isn't corpus luteum?
Farina: NO.

FASHION & COSMETICS

Farina: That was my initial point kay that blue is also right around my color. Kay nobody wants light blue and Dianne already has the dark blue. Mag-huot ta sa mid-blue. Mangita nalang siguro ko ug muted electric blue. Think electric blue blouse nga nabasa sa tubig so dili ra kaayo siya hayag. Now how to explain that to the tindera sa textile store...
Julette: hahahaha di ko ka imagine!!!
Farina: "Miss, aha inyong basa nga electric blue?"
Dennise: LOL. Aaahhhhh I miss this!
Farina: Tindera:"Di man mi gabaligya ana ma'am kay makakuryente man kung bas-on ang electric blue." WHAPAK! Corny kaayo...
Dennise: ROFLOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Julette: lol pero in fair fart nakakatawa ko hehe
Dennise: ako sad!!!!!!!!!!

Farina: I'm watching makeup videos ba and for some reason, gasapoton ko ug paminaw aning mga tweeners talking about how it's so important "to use Urban Decay primer before applying eye makeup." And that it's "an absolute must to replace the plastic cover for the brush to protect the bristles."
Dennise: LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Farina: And then naa'y FIVE MINUTE video on how to curl your hair with a flat iron when all she's saying is, "Get a portion of your hair, twist then pull. " Then repeats that same line over and over and over... until mahuman.
Dennise: ROFLOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!!!!
Farina: Maulaw ko. Over the fact that I'm actually watching these things to look adult for your wedding.
Dennise: LOLOLOLOLOL! I can imagine man oi you trying to hold it all in thru a 5 min twist then pull script!!!!

SPEECH AND LANGUAGE

Dennise: Karsten and I have been playing wordtwist.org online. boogle equivalent
Farina: LOL. bOOgle.
Dennise: :P. And we have learned soooo many new words!!! TAE is worth 6 points since it's an ultra rare word.

Farina: Hahahaha! I think it's hard to maintain a conversation with me if you're talking about something I'm not interested in. Kay I just nod and smile.
Dennise: LOL
Farina: Mao na ang usual first impressions sa mga people in college nako kay snob or something. Which they later retracted once they got to know me. Which is my problem with meeting new people. Dili kaayo ko the type to make an effort to carry the conversation ba. I mean, sure, if you're talking about plankton, I'll jump in pero bahyet, if I have no idea what you're talking about, just count on me to smile or laugh when appropriate.
Dennise: hihihihihihihihihih. Plankton conversations with people you just met, LOL (chuckle). Maayo kaayo ko ana oi... even with things that don't interest me. Amazing lagi how much crap i can take
Farina: There are some people like that jud no? I can tell ra ba. Do you know ____?
Dennise: yes of course
Farina: She's SOOOOOOO good at looking interested at what you're talking about. Ako sad, even though I can tell she's just faking the interested look, padayon ra pud ko storya because I like talking about things I like.
Dennise: LOLOLOLOL!!!!!!!!!!
Farina: Kebs if maboang siya ug hunahuna sa mga plankton ug thesis nako diha.

Farina: This takes me back to that time you said, "You're such a bitch when I get so affected when you correct me but when I correct you, it's not a big deal!"
Dennise: i said that?! when???
Farina: college
Dennise: Don't remember. You're making that up
Farina: I am NOT!
Dennise: yes you are
Farina: That was said in loving jest.
Dennise: You're prone to making things up. i know you... (nod)
Farina: But I remember that kay that was the first time anybody's ever called me a bitch.: SO I AM NOT MAKING IT UP!
Dennise: naaahhhh. You are lying about being the first time ever to be called a bitch!
Farina: What do you mean, "Naaaahh"?!
Dennise: Why wouldn't people call u a bitch?!
Farina: Who said lugar beh? I AM A LOVING, KIND, AND NICE PERSON GODDAMMIT!
Dennise: (smirk) hmmmm, let's see... there's a lot of people actually! melissa! and karen! and george!!
Farina: LOL! Animas! Andrew! Scott! Godofredo!
Dennise: Miraflor!!! LOL! Junalyn!
Farina: Jessica! (pronounced jisika). Dah, wala naman ni pulos nga storya.

Dennise: ahay, remembering Jimmy oi. King gyud cya ana. Pina, "nindot kaayo ang ambulance dni oi" (ambience). "this feels like a rendezvous actually happened". Iyang friend pasabot kay deja vu
Farina: gets nako gang. I know English, too.

SPORTS

Farina: tried to catch the basketball virus pero gang, BORED kaayo ko gatan-aw sa games. I was only there in support of the Marisse and Julette crushes.
Dennise: I read a book once while a game was ongoing. On a Xavier court at that.
Farina: Siguro, I'd enjoy a basketball game if they started flying and shooting the ball using martial arts.
Dennise: LOL. ROFL. feste. martial arts. LOL. tabang

Farina: I love that you have woods.
Dennise: let's bike to the forest! Does everybody know how to bike?
Farina: I remember that I knew how to bike when I was 12 and apparently, you never forget. So I'm counting on that.
Dennise: naa man rent a bike dani. pick it up somewhere in town and just leave it anywhere in town. They will give u a code to input on it and it will lock it self
Farina: Like Transformers? Hihihi..

TRAVEL

Farina: But Marrion's probably not going. Daghan man to siya drama about checking his sked and clearing it with Marikarr or something.
Dennise: sucks :(
Farina: Who do you really really REALLY want to be there kay we can probably mess with them until they go. Hehehe...
Dennise: LOL

Dennise: But Far, you can't be that unlucky daw ingon ni Karsten. We're trying to understand how those flights could not be available for you.
Farina: Anyway, going on March 18 is just a minor hiccup. Malingaw man pud siguro mi ni Marisse mag-laag laag sa Cebu. (Suya!) And just checked it. That wasn't there ganiha. I don't think I hallucinate all that much.
Dennise: Karsten really thinks you're on drugs.
Farina: Tell Karsten that even if I were on drugs, I think I have a better imagination than to just hallucinate about flight promos.
Dennise: Karsten thinks you just need an excuse for a night out in Cebu.
Farina: I do NOT! Marisse is the one who suggested the night out in Cebu in the first place.
Dennise: He doesn't believe you.
Farina: I thought we would take the last flight on March 18 but she wanted an earlier flight so more time for larag.
Dennise: He thinks you wanna get laid
Farina: And no. Getting laid is so not on my mind right now. Except for that one time when I dreamt about... NO. KARSTEN's THERE. Not saying another word.

ENTERTAINMENT

Farina: I have a psychotically faithful heart. I NEVER seriously crush on two people at the same time.
Dennise: ME TOO FAR. I never seriously crush on 2 people at the same time. Murag walay point mga daydreams nimo
Farina: As in. Crush-crush lang, daghan. Kanang mga artista, singer, lalake nga nalabyan nimo sa ketkai...
Dennise: LOL. ARTISTA!!!!!!!!!

Dennise: watchadoin?
Farina: chatting with you.
Dennise: aside from that
Farina: shamefully watching clips of pinoy teenybopper romances
Dennise: i am reading michelle's dentist entry
Farina: "Diba lahat naman nang nagmamahal nagpapaka-tanga? Eh di tanga na kung tanga! Mahal kita, bogs!" Yatiiiii...
Dennise: pisti bah oiii. amaw na gyud ka far as in. nanimarot akong balibo. grrrr

Dennise: too many stupid quizzes on fb i swear. what myth are u? What is your ideal weapon?
Farina: I know. stupid ra ba kaayo ang uban. One said that I would die on October. 2008. Wa na. Patay na ko.
Dennise: LOL. ROFL. omg this is sooo funny. LOL. help
Farina: LOL!
Dennise: i hate the results of the stupid tests. i am not publishing them!
Farina: Mao. My favorite subject in Medicine is Anesthesia because I like to spend my time at home sleeping. I am Lady Macbeth because I can't decide between pink and blue. My parents should have named me Miley. My Japanese name is Sachiko. My favorite weapon is a sword. I am a caramel macchiato.
Dennise: LOL
Farina: One of these days, a quiz will come out saying I am a goat because I prefer pencils to ballpens. Or something like that.

WEATHER

Farina: Leche, gaka-imagine nako that you're still grilling bisan ga-thunderstorm.
Dennise: lol
Farina: Yelling at each other over the loud thunder.
Dennise: LOL. if drizzle lang, ok ra, magpayong si karsten. LOL
Farina: "HOW DO YOU WANT YOUR BURGERS?!"
Dennise: LOL
Farina: "WHAT?! DO I WANT IT BIGGER?!"
Dennise: LOOOOOOL!
Farina: "NO! BURGERS!"
Dennise: LOLLOLOLOL. eennnuuuuuffffffff
Farina: okay. enough.

So, here goes. Here goes my public proposal for the GWNN girls, made in public, guaranteed to make you agree, else everything gets awkward and my 580 Facebook friends will lash at you for rejecting me yet again.

Do you, Julette/Marisse/Dennise, agree to have a real chat night on October 17, 2010 at 9PM, GMT +8?

(But you can just PM me if you're really not free... LOL! Chickening out...)

Olfactory Memories

2010-08-28T15:15:00.013+08:00

Many of my life choices are heavily influenced by odors. And when I talk about life choices, I mean choice of shampoo, soap, body wash, food... (LOL. Sorry. If you're looking for a serious discussion, this is not it.)

But really, I choose a lot of things based on how they smell. Forget protection from UV damage or anti-hair fall vitamin thingies. My current shampoo (apart from being pink) smells so nice I want to eat my hair. My papaya soap smells so much like papaya that I have to check the impulse to chew on it. Then there's my apricot body wash that smells so good that it automatically perks me up when I'm tired and stressed out. And let's not forget the distinct smell of the Jollibee burger. Even in a moviehouse, when someone brings in takeout Jollibee, the odor permeates every inch of the place and I get so distracted. It's like, "Dude, put that thing away. I can't concentrate on the movie because all I can think about is what you're eating."

Anyway, apart from influencing very important purchases, odors elicit certain emotions and reactions. It is a widely known fact that certain odors can easily trigger an onslaught of memories because the olfactory bulb is connected to the amygdala and is part of the brain's limbic system, an area also responsible for memory. (Okay, maybe the part about the amygdala and the limbic system isn't really widely known but you get what I mean.)

Take the smell of chlorine for example. Most people would associate this with pool parties and summer breaks but for me, it brings up images of my face slamming into the side of the pool, a bloody nose, a couple of chipped teeth and me having a skull x-ray done in my bathing suit. Good times.

Then the other day, I was on duty and the orderlies were disinfecting an area of the ER. And it so happened that the disinfectant they used was the very same one used at the hospital where I used to go on duty as a medical senior clerk. The mere smell of the disinfectant made me feel awful and my brain was immediately flooded with memories of on-the-spot, surprise endorsements, with consultants giving out rapid fire questions to a very sleepy Farina, who has been up for 32 hours.

"Is the output of the patient consistent with his diagnosis of septic shock? Can you explain why the patient has anemia in the face of amoebic liver abscess? Why am I giving this patient Ciprofloxacin? Do not look at your notes! What is the mechanism of action of magnesium sulfate, focusing on its effect on calcium channels? WHAT IS THE CAPITAL OF ICELAND?!"

(Fine, I exaggerate but there are times when they might as well be asking geography questions. Post-duty status can render anyone brain dead so the questions wouldn't matter anyway.)

But anyway, you may wonder what brought on this contemplation on what scent can do to a woman. Well, someone brought Jollibee Chickenjoy takeout to the ER waiting area and I am very, very hungry.

(I realize this entire entry is absolutely useless and probably didn't make much sense but hey, it's better than no entry at all. Right, Dennise?)

Safety First

2010-08-24T08:23:00.025+08:00

After a weekend of highly-compressed fun, I subjected myself to a hellish week of academic torture on occupational safety and industrial medicine. (O diba, slightly redundant and tangentially oxymoronic..)

Don't travel alone.

I arrived in Cagayan de Oro from Singapore at 8AM on the same morning we were to leave for an 8-day seminar in Davao City. The original plan was to commute via bus so I tried to sneak in as much sleep as possible during the flight home. Even bought one of those travel pillows at Changi just so my head wouldn't be bumping about as I attempted to catch some Zzzs. I was also already pre-packed for the Davao trip so really, I only had to go home, get changed, grab my stuff and leave. But when I got home and got the call from Vanessa to meet up at the bus terminal at 9:30AM, my entire being was just screaming at me, "You are not going on a seven-hour bus ride!" So I booked an afternoon flight and even arrived in Davao 2 hours earlier than my commuting companions! Sure, the fare was 3 times more expensive but I wouldn't have traded the expense for the stress-free journey, especially considering that the week ahead was bound to drain every ounce of energy and sanity I had.

Wear protective clothing.

Seating on the very first day of a seminar is very important as this will be your seat for every single day hence. Naturally, we sat somewhere strategically near the exit doors but still close enough to the front to be able to see the slide presentations. The thing was, we arrived too early and thus were instructed to please occupy the seats in front. Had we been of another age bracket, we probably would've ignored instructions and stayed put. But seeing as we were the youngest participants in the seminar and the one urging us to move was grandpa-looking (because we were brainwashed as kids to obey grandpas), we had no choice but to sit in front, where we were in between two large airconditioners. Now, I'm usually tolerant to cold temperatures but this was just too much. My nailbeds were turning blue and my ribs were shivering. And so began the search for an inexpensive sweater/jacket. It had to be cheap because I don't really wear jackets all that much anyway. However, when I was browsing through the sweaters and jackets area, I saw it. This pink polka dot thing that was just so adorable. *sigh* I am so gay. Forget that I looked like a 12 year old attending an adult conference. I was very happy with my pink Personal Protective Equipment.

Use safety shoes.

Speaking of PPEs, the 7th day of the seminar was set aside for a plant visit. Every 'effin day of the seminar, it was emphasized that the availability of protective equipment is non-negotiable and is basically mandatory. But then, prior to the plant visit, grandpa said that the company would be unable to provide us with safety shoes, hence leaving the burden on us to find ourselves some shoes. And take note, "any closed shoes will do." Now, I hate closed shoes. I never buy closed shoes. (Well, except for that one time when I graduated from medical school. Oh, and also for that time when I had to go on duty at Nestle during the height of the AH1N1 scare.) So now that I had to purchase yet another useless thing for the stupid seminar, my wai-meter was pointing dangerously towards I-need-to-smack-someone-in-the-mouth levels. And because I don't like being a bitch, I needed something to cheer me up. So naturally, I bought a pair of shoes with pink flowers. (Yes, they look like kindergarten shoes and yes, those are teddy bears on my bedsheets.) I'm sure the pretty floral pattern will deter any huge crates threatening to fall on my tiny toes.

Never accept rides from strangers.

Pink flowers or no, I still didn't enjoy the prospect of having to shop for closed shoes. So after the few minutes it took me to buy a pair, we went to dinner at some pizza place because I wanted to have the quickest dinner possible and then head back to the dorm to rest. But it seemed Davao was determined to piss me off. Super heavy rain for 20 minutes that led to a flash flood that had me stuck at the pizza place for two fucking hours. I was tired and wet and I wanted to go home. So when some strangers offered us a ride in their van to dry land, I didn't even consider that they could be kidnappers, hoping to sell us to some terrorist group or something. I was too tired to be paranoid. Thankfully, they were pretty ordinary guys who did not need hostages so they dropped us off near a school (I think), where we paid a tricycle driver six times the regular fare to get us home.

Stop, Look and Listen

STOP falling asleep.

LOOK at the boring lecturer.

LISTEN to the boring lecture by the boring lecturer.

Pretty simple instructions but it took several cups of coffee, a couple packs of super sour tamarind candy and incredibly out-of-this-world daydreaming to even comply with the first one. It's one thing to be bored and quite another to actually pay to be bored. It's not that they didn't know what they were talking about. The problem was that they didn't know how to talk about occupational safety without making me want to throw a book at them. The very same book they were reading off of. (You see, they basically just stood there, reading the manual out loud like goddamned drones.)

Stock sufficient stores of food.

Now you must understand that we paid for this seminar, food inclusive. Over the 8 days that we were there, the food was often way below par and something always ran out, whether it be the fish, or the vegetables, or the soup... Anyway, after another maddeningly boring morning lecture, I was excited to see the dessert... some banana thing with sugary syrup and sago. And like the good citizen that I am, I queued and waited for my turn but as I reached the dessert table, the bowl with the bananas was empty.

On that very same day, I cried like a crazy person.

But let me explain. It started with the bananas. Then it was followed with the news that I had to buy shoes. Then I was stuck in the flash flood. As I sat on the bed after getting out of my damp clothes, I couldn't stop the tears.

My friends kept mocking me for crying over bananas but you have to understand that it was an accumulation of wrongs! Also, I really did want to eat those bananas... *sobbing*

Keep out of reach of children.

Six of us shared a room. There was only one vanity table. As we were getting ready for another lecture, my left wrist grazed something hot and I immediately pulled back and saw that there was a hot flat iron on the table. So much for all that talk of "a place for everything and everything in its place." Although I was able to cool the burnt area of my skin (poured water on it and shoved it in front of the airconditioner), there is still a tiny seared portion on the dorsomedial aspect of my left wrist.

Abrasion in Singapore. Burn in Davao.

I wonder what sort of injury awaits me in Laoag...

Another Year of Breathing

2010-08-22T14:06:00.034+08:00

It was just one of those things that I do on a semi-whim. "Semi" in the sense that although the decision to go to Singapore on my birthday weekend was made in a span of minutes, the days and weeks following that decision were inundated with constant organizing and re-organizing of itineraries, obsessive internet stalking of websites featuring the sights and sounds of Singapore (Really, who checks the Resorts World Singapore website every single day?), and planning out whatever I needed to pack a whole month in advance. That's right. I have OCD tendencies and making lists makes me happy.

Sadly, despite all that preparation, it never occurred to me to get Julette's address. I didn't think to because she was going to meet us at the airport anyway... that probably would've saved us the one hour delay at immigration. I guess if I had to place myself in paranoid Singaporean shoes, I'd understand why two females, traveling alone at midnight without the slightest idea where they were going to, would seem a tad bit suspicious. But then again, I like reasonable, non-paranoid shoes and I say they were just crazy.

However, that experience didn't piss me off nearly as much as it did Marisse. Mostly because I got the nice immigration officers (one even went so far as to tell me I had a nice name and I was sorely tempted to tell her that my name means FLOUR), while the attorney was attended by, from the looks of it, immigration office interns on a power trip. Also, Marisse was in lawyerly mode and bombarding them with as much questions as they were sending her way. I, on the other hand, have a slightly different strategy that works 90% of the time... the Wounded Puppy Move. I bombard them with so much niceness, courtesy, and insane meekness that it's near impossible, almost criminal, to be mean to me. And it didn't fail me at Changi. I got out before Marisse did and the senior immigration officers were taking turns offering me seats. The most senior one was chatting me up, telling me that Singapore needs foreign doctors, wishing me well on my vacation, giving me tips on what sights to visit, blah blah blah...

Anyway, we put all that behind us and proceeded to enjoy what Singapore had to offer, starting with Universal Studios. It's a good thing we booked the tickets online ahead of time because when we got there at 10AM, tickets were sold out. I'm not going to give a detailed account of what went down but suffice it to say we enjoyed USS, especially the part where we got wet, nay soaked. The Jurassic Park ride seemed to disappoint at first but then whoa! Suddenly we were lifted up an elevator and then there was a T-Rex ready to bite my head off and then we were dropped into the water and were completely drenched! Lovely...

The Waterworld show was very entertaining, as well. Apart from the gwapo guys in the show (nga grabe pinangita ni Julette and Marisse para magpa-picture), the explosions, water stunts and gunfire were super fun, too.

Oops.. almost forgot. I tripped and scraped my knee at Universal. I don't know why. One minute, I was going down a step near the Egyptian thingie area at USS, the next I was down on one knee, bleeding. Woot, epidermal souvenir from Singapore.

Towards the end of the day, we explored the rest of Sentosa and I especially enjoyed the Luge. I don't know how to drive and the Luge had me pretending I was a skilled driver. Hihihi... Before we proceeded to my birthday dinner, we visited the Underwater World at Sentosa and I got to pet a bamboo shark! I don't know what it is about sea creatures but I just love and am constantly fascinated by them. Too bad I don't know how to (and probably will never attempt to) scuba dive. I'm paranoid about how my sick-ish lungs will fare underwater.

The second day was spent just walking around Singapore and taking in the sights. One of the peculiar sightings was a number of LFs. Loving Fathers, with toddlers in tow. No idea if it's a trend now, going on family trips without the mothers. Anyway, we mostly walked around, had a taste of their version of street ice cream (Peppermint Chocolate!!!!), and then went to the IT Mall to buy my new waterproof Lumix.

I took this photo with my mobile phone because if I took a photo of my Lumix using, well, my Lumix, that would just about sunder the universe.

Although Julette has been living in Singapore for 2 years now, she hasn't visited the Marina Bay Sand Skypark so that was a first for all three of us. Up on the 57th floor, we were treated to an almost 360-degree view of Singapore. There was also a huge infinity pool but as we were not hotel guests, we could only stare. (LOL) But the Marina Bay Sands really is an architectural feat. Although, it kinda reminds you of Noah's Ark. And then they had tiny lotus-like pods still under construction, which we assume is where they plan to house Lee Kwan Yew, also known as "Harry" in the international scene, along with the DNA of all the plants and animals in Singapore, should the Apocalypse come to pass in 2012.

Since we were able to see daytime SG from the Skypark, we wanted to view the SG skyline at night from the Singapore Flyer. And I must say, we had perfect timing. When our capsule reached the topmost part of the observation wheel, the fireworks and light show "rehearsals" started. (Okay, I feel it's getting boring now. I tend to narrate like a boring old fart when I go into details about trips.)

An insert into our itinerary was a 30-minute bus ride to Malaysia. Johor Bahru to be exact. It was just across the bridge and when we got there, all we did was go to the mall. It was a far cry from the malls in SG but still, I was able to buy yummy candy. We also ate at Baskin Robbins but I still prefer the street ice cream in Singapore. (Peppermint Chocolate!!! hehehe....). However, for the few hours that we were there, I learned a lot of Malay terms. Words like RESTORAN, BAS, ESKALATOR, TEKSI... (I don't know why this is funny but it is. To me, anyway.)

The Chinatown walkthrough was for souvenir shopping where I purchased some pretty useless stuff simply because they were pink. And I also saw this Chinese vendor playing the erhu! Not that I'm such an expert on ancient Chinese musical instruments. Just that Lee Hom has several songs utilizing the erhu instead of a violin. You know how I'm such a fan *cough* stalker.

Our last day in SG coincided with their National Holiday and the streets were eerily desolate. Even Orchard Road, which is usually littered with their street ice cream (Peppermint Chocolate!!!) vendors, was amazingly empty. I guess the mingaw-ness was sort of a good thing because we were able to have our 4R and Friends Lunch at Lau Pa Sat in peace. We didn't have to yell over the din of lunchtime ruckus to speak to each other.

The last tourist destination was Snow City, which was less impressive than I expected. I had imagined, well, a city but it was little more than this sealed chamber set up to simulate a snowy wonderland. At minus 5 degrees centigrade, we didn't stay for the whole hour that we paid for but we had more than enough time to go snow tubing (twice!) and hang out inside a cement igloo.

Notice how crazy we look with the incredibly oversized outfits. Well, except for Marisse who got hers from the kid's section.

We ended the Singapore Birthday Weekend with an early dinner at Ikea. (and ZOMG, makabuang ang Ikea. My brain was on overdrive redecorating real and imagined houses.)

I guess that ends my Singapore escapade. It was loads of fun but I paid for it dearly with an incredibly dull, mind-numbing, makes-me-want-to-chew-on-shards-of-glass seminar immediately after.

Sports Medicine and Magical Sprays

2010-06-27T15:32:00.005+08:00

I was lazily browsing through online articles (because it's a Sunday and beach plans were cancelled because I also have lazy ass friends) when I came across this one about a magic elixir that team doctors for football players use for, well, practically every "yayay" known to athletes. Yeah, I've seen it used but I always thought it was some sort of anesthetic but no.. It's a skin refrigerant. (Really, you learn something new everyday. I didn't even know skin could be refrigerated.)

Skin refrigerants provide a brief spell of anesthesia which can, at times, be enough to reduce the stinging pain of something like stud marks on an ankle or, at least,make the player think that it's helping. And while they certainly won't cure something more serious like, say, torn knee ligaments or a shotgun blast to the chest, that momentary relief can be all it takes to get a player back up and in the game.

Now I wonder if we can get some of that in the ER for patients who feign illness..

"Doctor, my head hurts. Well, not my entire head but just this 1-inch area around my left eyebrow. I don't think I can go to work. Can you give me a medical certificate?"

"Right around the left eyebrow, you say? Don't worry ma'am. We have just the thing for your very specific condition. Nurse! Can you please hand me our magical spray?"

*grin* If only...

P.S.

Shotgun blast to the chest. Hihihi..

Puberty, Is That You?!

2010-06-23T22:48:00.017+08:00

I should never be left bored with nothing to do. Things happen when I'm bored.

Even as a kid, I was never given to messing with makeup. I didn't really like the stuff, much less the effort spent in applying it. This sentiment did not change as I grew older. Whenever a situation called for cosmetic embellishments, there was always someone to do it for me. Take Dennise's wedding, for example. Honey did my hair and Julette did my makeup and all I did was sit there and let them do their thing. Well, I did have to endure Julette yelling at me, "What do you mean you don't know how to apply lipstick?!"

Anyway, there's this wedding coming up and I realized that I didn't have anybody to do my makeup for me this time. Then I figured that I could just learn how to do it myself. How hard can it be really? And so I approached the art of applying makeup the way I learned how to do a thoracentesis. Read about it, see it done once, then perform the procedure.

After several hours on Yahoo and YouTube, I found watching makeup video tutorials a different kind of enlightening. There were these teens, practically babies, talking about Urban Decay primers, taupe eyeshadows, and all sorts of eyeliners. Apparently, if you're going to be using a pencil liner, it has to be creamy. At this point, I had to stop watching to grab something to eat. Hearing her repeatedly say creamy got me hungry.

Hm.. what else... oh yes, the brushes. My god, the brushes. I cannot wrap my head around the number of brushes needed to apply makeup! There are all these descriptions and numbers... small angle, large angle, tapered, fluffy, number 195, number 217... Egad. And here I thought there was one brush for eyeshadow, one for blush, and if you're really crazy, a lipstick brush.

Believing that I was armed with enough knowledge to try out my makeup-ing skills, I gathered all the necessary equipment to start painting my face.

Face powder/Foundation. Check.

Blush. Check.

Eyeshadow. Check.

Lipstick. Check.

Eyeliner (of the non-creamy kind). Super check.

A bajillion brushes... Che-- Hm.

For all my mocking of the different brushes required to apply makeup, I found that I ONLY HAD ONE BRUSH. The slightly overlarge, fluffy kind.

Okay. I've sutured facial injuries using silk 2-O when 3 or 4-O sutures were unavailable so maybe I can do this even with the not-so-appropriate brush. (I know, I know.. bad analogy but I'm grasping at straws trying to justify the insanity of my following course of action.)

I used the big fluffy brush to apply eyeshadow on my tiny ass eyelids.

And I did just that, as well as apply shimmery pink eyeshadow all over the bridge of my nose, my eyebrows and on the general area underneath my eyes.

After removing all that gunk with lotion (Yes, that is apparently how it is done.), I resolved to get my hands on the proper equipment. So, I headed to the nearest mall and down to the cosmetics section where I stood stock still for maybe 2 minutes, at a loss at where to proceed. Then this saleslady, probably in her late 30s, came up to me and asked, "What are you looking for, dear?", in that tone of voice people use to speak to 12 year olds. Haay...

In any case, I was able to find several brushes and headed home to start my experiment again. After 2 hours of applying, removing, then reapplying makeup, I managed to create a somewhat presentable made up look. Well, at least I think it looked presentable.

All this effort was done for a wedding and I don't think makeup will become an everyday work thing. I am of the belief that no matter what I wear or how I paint my face, I seem to have a look that's not at all doctor-y. I mean, I do try to look the part but some patients still tell me to my face, "Miss, can you please call the doctor?"

Really?! Even with the heels, dress, stark white smock gown, stethoscope and identification card that says Resident Physican?!

It Sucks In The City

2010-06-03T13:59:00.004+08:00

I don't know if it's me or a lack in adequate levels of estrogen but somehow, watching the sequel of Sex and the City left me with a headache and for some reason, feeling unbelievably pissed.

Forget the ridiculous outfits. I don't claim to be some sort of fashion guru but I think it only rational not to wear stilettos while having a picnic in the middle of the fucking desert.

Actually, no. We can't forget about the outfits because that's basically what the entire movie is about. One big production on frequent costume changes. Take that away and we're left with 4 weepy females with shallow non-problems. They tried to redeem it by all that talk about how hard motherhood can be especially with busty Irish nannies but then they completely obliterated that sentiment by having a scene with Middle Eastern women wearing this year's spring collection under their abayas then trying to foist it off as some sort of Girl Power Movement.

And then there's Carrie. Oh my god, Carrie. I want to smack her in the mouth. I don't want to be all spoiler-y because Karsten still wants to watch it but really Carrie?! Your biggest problem is that your husband gave you a flat screen TV?!

And, as if I couldn't possibly hate this movie even more, Miley Cyrus shows up for a cameo. Please shoot me. No, shoot Miley.

I know I haven't blogged in a month but that's because I have other important things to do. I just had to air this out because some things are just worth ranting about. ;)

And one last thing, for the love of God, who the fuck wears heels at home?!

Day Off Madness

2010-04-29T11:11:00.015+08:00

It was my day off yesterday and I made use of the time for errands and things. Go to the bank, pay bills, take care of PhilHealth matters... boring things that needed to be done.

I had some time to kill before the electricity came back (We have scheduled power interruptions now. It's like Palawan minus the beaches.), so I went to the nearest mall. I had planned to just window shop, maybe buy a shirt or two, get milk from the grocery or something but this Japan Store just opened. And it looked pretty (for all that pretty is to me) so obviously, I had no choice but to go in.

It was a mess of items from pet toys to artsy-fartsy things to kitchenware. I loved it. I spent more than 500 pesos buying stuff on a whim.

That gray plastic thing I placed inside one of my cabinet drawers so I could organize the stuff inside the drawer. So okay, still a justified purchase.

I bought the mirror for the table beside my bed so I wouldn't have to get up to comb my hair. Purchase for the sake of laziness.

The scissors, well, you never know when you have to cut something. And of course it has to be 3 pairs. One really big one for huge cutting needs. One small one for the bedside table. And one spare for, I don't know, when my sister loses the one on the bedside table (again).

Since I have no qualms about eating in my room, I constantly find myself needing to throw something away. Hence, the tiny trash can. Dull looking thing. I might buy myself some stickers and sparkly things to pimp it up.

Then we have the spools of thread in every color of the rainbow. Because we all know I have mad sewing skillz. *snerk*

The pink basket thing... still deciding on what I'll do with it. Just thought I needed a pink basket in my room, okay?

As for the screwdrivers, they were purchased in anticipation of a need to screw something.

What?! I bought a deadbolt for my door to keep pesky cousins out and it had screws on it. Anyway, my mom was wondering what was up with all the racket in my room. Intermittent hammering and general grunting (haler, I don't exactly have Lou Ferrigno's upper body strength) but I managed to install the deadbolt perfectly. I did sweat a bit. The last time I had to screw something in was when I was first assist in a hip replacement surgery and even then, I had access to high power drills.

There were a whole lot of other things I wanted to buy but really, buying a mouse trap simply because I play MouseHunt would be a bit much.

But there was this one mouse catching device that made me laugh. It's not so much the glue trap that entertained me but the loyalty, brotherhood and genuine helpfulness of mice towards each other. Brother, save yourself! (LOL. I'm crazy man oi...)

Anyway, the next day off will be spent with 4R and Friends so my usual nerdy endeavors will have to take a backseat.

It rarely happens...

2010-04-26T20:31:00.004+08:00

...what with my sunny disposition...

... but...

... life sucks.

Tina Fey, you fabulous nerd!

2010-04-23T17:32:00.005+08:00

Nothing much going on today except for back-to-back episodes of 30 Rock. Most of the time it delivers the funny but the first episode today especially made me laugh. The kind of funny that had me trying to suppress my laughter because you're not supposed to be laughing in the emergency room while on duty.

Tina Fey was all serious with this speech on what she wants in a guy, while being mercilessly hit by basketballs.

I want someone who will be monogamous and nice to his mother.
I want someone who likes musicals but knows to just shut his mouth when I'm watching Lost.
I want someone who thinks being really into cars is lame and strip clubs are gross.
I want someone who will actually empty the dishwasher instead of just taking out forks as needed, like I do.
I want someone with clean hands and feet and beefy forearms like a damn Disney prince.
And I want him to genuinely like me, even when I'm old.
And that's what I want.

And then the guy just goes, in an Italian accent:

You make much English. This is fun alcoholics meeting!

Hm.. I guess I'm this bored to be posting random sitcom dialogue.

P.S. I don't think being into cars is lame. I guess I'll never be the man for you, Tina Fey! *sob*

And now, back to regular scheduled programming

2010-04-16T23:45:00.025+08:00

Well, not exactly.

My work schedule has always been kind of irregular but now, I have to work 36-hour duties with a day off every 3 days to make up for all that time I spent vacationing, not to mention that a co-resident is on leave for 2 months and I have to cover for part of her duties as well. Hopefully by June (God, that sounds so far away..), my duties will be less crazy.

One semi-permanent takeaway from the Palawan trip is my snorkeling-induced tan, or as I would prefer to call it, protective coloration. When I got back to the hospital, the first sight that greeted me were the ER nurses with looks of surprise at my newly acquired skin color. And the stark white smock wasn't exactly muting the darkness of my tan.

But anyway, I'll soon return to my previous color. Although, it took a year for me to return to normal skin tone from my Carbin Reef snorkeling trip in 2007 but then again I wasn't really trying to stay out of the sun. In any case, I have all the time in the world.

So, wassup in the crazy wonderland of Farinaville? Well, a few days ago, Marisse and I convinced Ramon to play Rockband with us but when we got to Joystick Lounge, their Rockband set was busted. Or maybe it was the LCD projector. Or the XBOX. Anyway, the point was we couldn't play Rockband. But be not disheartened! We did not trudge our way home like losers with no social life! (Because we aren't.) We headed over to a karaoke place and had a No Judgement Karaoke Night, just the three of us. We sang everything, from Michael Jackson to Las Ketchup to Dina Bonnevie and yes, even Aegis. Because that's the beauty of No Judgement Karaoke Night. You are a excellent singer! (in strange Chinese accent..)

My brother got married, by the way. And since I wasn't around during the planning stage, I was under the impression that I had no role in the wedding except to attend, plaster a meek smile on my face and tolerate the inane questions about my apparently deplorable lack of a husband.

Then comes the night before the wedding. I just got home from a 36-hour duty and I find out that I'm supposed to do the first reading. Hmm. It would've been nice to know this beforehand, you know. Anyway, maybe I just looked the part but prior to the ceremony, the nun gave me the This-Is-What-You-Do-In-Mass-You-Heathen lecture. Okay, got it. Bow, read, bow, sit down.

It was a nice, traditional ceremony. But I loved their pre-nup photos. Actually, it's not so much the photos I envy but the chance to handle a katana and wakizashi. I've always wanted to dress up as a samurai. The only dress-up Halloween party I ever went to had a Disney theme (Go figure) so instead of getting to wear a kimono, I had to dress up as Cinderella's fairy godmother. Bibbidi bobbidi boo..

I think the best thing to come out of ending my vacation was I finally got to see my laptop again. (Dork..) I wasn't able to lug it around Palawan because firstly, well, I would have had to lug it around Palawan, and secondly, I broke it. It seems that you can't keep your laptop turned on 24/7 and not expect it to die on you. Good thing it was still under warranty so all the repairs and parts replacements were free of charge. ^_^

On the entertainment front, I'm up to speed with my weekly doses of The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, House, Chuck, Ugly Betty, Cougar Town and Glee. Still have a lot of movies on the shelf that I need to watch, though. I'm thinking about watching the Last Station if only because Christopher Plummer is in it. Edelweiss... edelweiss...

Then there are movies that I would like to un-watch. A year before I was born (or as Julette puts it, the year before the "cool" babies arrived), there was a Filipino spy parody starring a midget named Weng Weng. The movie, For Your Height Only, was "allegedly" an international hit and naturally, this got me curious.

Two hours later, I had a major headache from all the stupid that was seeping into my brain. I don't know, maybe people's taste in cinema changes over the decades and maybe For Your Height Only was entertaining in 1981, but having seen it, I wouldn't inflict it on anybody else.

Just so we're clear, don't watch it.

So, regular scheduled programming isn't as regular after all. But that's just me.

A Blog In Parts: The Art of Letting Go

2010-04-05T23:15:00.006+08:00

I'm not the type of person who loses things, not things that matter anyway. Even that attempted robbery back in med school proved to be fruitless for the robber. He didn't get my wallet but I did end up lying flat on my back on a busy street in the rain. But that's another story.

Anyway, my point is, I haven't experienced any real loss, at least not enough to leave deep emotional scars. Which is why I have problems dealing with being left behind. So when it was nearing the end of the Palawan trip, I just gave in to the impulse and went ahead and simply extended my vacation.

Well, it wasn't as simple as that. First, I had to find a reliever for April 3 since I was supposed to be on duty that day. Second, I had to book flights to Cebu. Third, I had to make room reservations so I wouldn't have to sleep on the street.

The first task took quite a while. Doctors all over Cagayan de Oro were either on duty or on holiday but after 3 hours of frantic phone calls, I finally found someone who would go on duty for me.

The next task seemed easy enough. I could just buy the tickets online but even that gave me a slight headache. I wanted to book the same 2PM flight as Dennise's but that flight was no longer available. I had to choose between the 6AM and the 5PM flight. I didn't want to arrive at the airport alone at night so I opted for the earliest flight and figured I'd have to wait 6 hours until Dennise arrived in Cebu. However, the very next day, Karsten checked his email and found that their 2PM flight was moved to 5PM.

Hm. Lucky me. I get to spend most of Good Friday in Cebu. Alone.

Last thing to take care of. I called Sampaguita Suites at 6:00AM and asked a very sleepy receptionist to reserve a room for me from April 2 to April 4.

There. All bases covered.

The three of us arrived in Cagayan de Oro around six in the afternoon and headed directly to Dennise's house in Biasong for dinner and drinks with Ramon, Nikko and Marisse. I got home at midnight and basically just told my mom, "Hi Mom! I'm home after being gone for almost two weeks but I'm leaving in another 5 hours. Can you please take me to the airport at 5:00AM?"

After packing yet again for this sidetrip, I slept for all of 2 hours before I had to get up and head for the airport.

Our two days in Cebu were spent doing mundane things. Shopping, eating, drinking, talking. Dennise and I didn't even go to Bohol. I spent most of one night chasing after Danie and counting blue lights. Still, that trip was worth it. I got to spend 2 more days in the company of two of my favorite girls instead of being stuck at work, wondering what they were doing.

I'm not usually given to tears but at the departure area at Mactan International Airport, I was trying not to sob.

Now, just a little over a week since they left, I'm still missing them. I think I've pestered Dennise over Skype, Facebook and even on her mobile phone every single day. Whatchadoin? Are you done vacuuming? Where exactly in the house are you? Are you awake yet?

Anyway, I think I'm dealing pretty well now. The chat nights have been helping. Especially now that the 3 of us (Marisse, Julette and I) have plans to visit next year. ^_^

GWNN in Karlsruhe, April 2011! Woot!

A Blog In Parts: This Crazy Thing They Call Boarding

2010-04-03T08:32:00.019+08:00

The day we were to head for Coron was the earliest I had ever had to wake up for the entire vacation. I think I set my alarm for 5:00AM so I would have an hour to ignore alarms, attempt to get up and basically fall out of bed. Our boat was set to leave at 7:30AM and we could not afford to miss it. But still, it was so freakin' early! Like Ebi said, "Even the water isn't up yet.", referring to the super low tide.

Anyway, a quick breakfast at El Nido Boutique & Art Cafe and then we were off to the pier, which was only a couple of meters away. Boarding had started and we were greeted with this sight.

Considering that this was going to be an 8-hour trip in what was basically open sea, the boarding procedure certainly wasn't promoting confidence in the "fast, clean and comfortable" boat. But we had no other choice but to "board" and endure. Doped up on anti-seasickness meds, I enjoyed the first two hours of the trip. Riding the waves, eyes wide open for sea turtle sightings, enjoying the cool breeze. Sitting on the shady side of the boat was also a big plus.

Then the two hours became four, and riding the waves wasn't as much fun anymore.

Four hours became six and the sun started shining on my side of the boat, the heat occasionally interrupted by the splash of seawater against the side of the boat. Everyone was busy trying all sorts of maneuvers to either keep cool or stay dry.

Thirty minutes away from shore, one of the boatmen saw me struggling to hold up a lifevest to shield myself from the sun's rays. He came closer and ever so casually said, "Ma'am, you can put up this window if you like."

*stare*

Thank you sooooooo much! That tidibit would have been useful like, I don't know, two hours ago?!

Anyway, after 8 hours, we set foot on dry land unscathed and a little worse for wear. Everyone else was tired and just bummed around the hotel (which didn't really look like a real hotel but they were calling it a hotel anyway), but three of us were just crazy enough to trek 600 meters up a mountain in the dead of night to search for tupperware.

Ebi and Marco are into this whole geocaching thing and apparently, there was one in Coron on Mt. Tapyas. And you know how I'm always a fan of crazy ventures so I was totally interested in what was inside this plastic box we were supposed to find. Armed with nothing but flashlights of varying intensities, GPS coordinates and mind-blowing optimism, we climbed the seemingly never-ending stairs of Mt. Tapyas. And will you just check out the view.

Anyway, we didn't find the cache. Marco was trying to steer clear of snakes, I was avoiding ants and Ebi was practically climbing trees to find the cache but after going in circles for the umpteenth time, we gave up and just headed back to the hotel.

Maybe it was the harrowing boat trip from El Nido but most of us just weren't in the mood for island hopping on our second day in Coron. So while I stayed behind at the hotel, reading and blogging like the nerdorkus that I am, everybody else rented motorcycles and tore through the city streets like madmen. Well, for all of an hour before several bikes broke down. It was probably a good thing then that I didn't go with them because for all that I know about repairing deep lacerated wounds and resuscitating hearts that stop beating, I wouldn't know what to do if the chains of a motorcycle fell off.

The rest of the party left for Manila on March 30, with only Karsten, Dennise & I left behind in Coron. We had 2 days left to kill and we spent the last island hopping with Meike and Rich, who arrived after a godforsaken 9-hour trip on the Jessabel. Apparently, our boat ride was nothing compared to the horror that Rich and Meike faced. Huge waves crashing against the side of the boat, Rich puking his guts out, boatmen hammering rusty nails in the engine bay... but nonetheless, they arrived safe and cursing. ^_^

Back to the island hopping.

There really weren't that many places to go to that catered to non-divers but still, Coron had a lot to offer, snorkeling-wise. I think that the best snorkeling experience would have to be at Siete Pecados. I don't know how those islets got the name, save for the fact that the fish there were just sinfully beautiful. I was surrounded by different species of sea creatures and found myself practically squealing in delight underwater.

We also went to Kayangan Lake, which is apparently the cleanest lake in the country. What makes this lake so special is the school of fish (whose species I cannot identify, nor will I try to) with special feeding abilities.

The ability to consume Rich and Karsten's spit in a matter of seconds. If this groove catches on, the Coron residents may have to put up a sign saying "Please Don't Spit On The Fish For The Love Of God."

Anyway, I think I had the most fun at the Twin Lagoons as evidenced by this video link. Hear me laugh like a loon. You can't hear him over my insane hyena laughter but Rich was yelling, "Far, get up and take a picture. FAR! GET UP AND TAKE A PICTURE!"

Hm.. Somehow that sounded funnier in my head. >_>

As was the case in the El Nido lagoons, we neglected to rent kayaks but in the Twin Lagoons, we found a bamboo raft. We had no oars but who needs oars when you have fins!

On April Fool's Day, which incidentally was also Maundy Thursday, Dennise, Karsten & I headed home to Cagayan de Oro. Dinner at Dennise's house in Biasong signalled the end of The Vacation.

Well, not quite.

A Blog In Parts: Help Me, I'm German!

2010-04-02T17:29:00.017+08:00

We had a godawful 6-hour van ride from Puerto Princesa to El Nido. And not just because the trip took 6 hours. It was mostly the stretch of unpaved road and loose gravel that a tour guide once termed as a "free massage service." Really now.

But to look on the bright side, at least we weren't riding a bus or jeepney, entering Dust Clouds of Death every few meters or so. Not even prophylactic doses of steroids would have saved me from severe bouts of sneezing and quite possibly, eventual anaphylactic shock.

Our resort was a few minutes away from town which was just as well. As beautiful as El Nido is, the town just isn't all that awe inspiring. Cramped streets, unpretty houses, not to mention crappy food places but we'll get to that later. Anyway, Dennise and Karsten made me take a photo of them somewhere near the shore only to have it end up looking like they were in some back alley, just waiting to be robbed.

We stayed at Four Seasons Resort, which was owned by a Filipina who married a Korean guy. There were Korean touches everywhere. In the menu, the books I saw on a ledge somewhere, and in this door hanger. This would have been okay if it had been hanging on some other doors like, let's say, Karsten's but no... This was on our door. The "Family Room" door. The room that Marco, Ebi and I shared.

When Dennise saw our "special" door hanger, she took it and I was all, "Go ahead. Take it. (Please.) Not like we have any use for it anyway." Hehehe...

We visited a lot of places in El Nido but I think my favorite would have to be the Secret Beach. You have to swim through this small hole so you can get to the actual beach, hence the name. But typical Dennise said, "Why do we have to go through some hole? I'm sure there's some sort of detour the boat can take to get in." Right. The locals, for years, have been fooling tourists into taking the hard route. The scammers. >_>

Now, not a lot of people know this of me, but I have a tendency to lecture. I once scared off a little girl who was just admiring the pretty sea creatures when I started blathering on about how the horseshoe crab has blue blood and predates the dinosaurs. Anyway, Dennise, Karsten and I were sitting on the sand at the Secret Beach when I suddenly started talking about white sand. See, parrot fish eat corals and the organisms on the coral and the undigested portions are passed out as white sand, which they produce tons of every year. Then topic jump to cone snails and powerful neurotoxins. Now, the sand we were sitting on wasn't exactly white sand but more like white gravel, not exactly a byproduct of parrot fish digestion. Then Dennise starts covering my legs with the stuff and kept yelling, "Parrot fish poop! Parrot fish poop!" And then she sees an empty shell and shouts, "Ooooh, cone snail! I'm covering you in parrot fish poop and cone snails!"

Stop calling things what they aren't!

I really should stop explaining things to this woman.

------

Anyway, back to that crappy food places issue. We ate dinner at Og's Restobar and the menu looked promising. I ordered a ham and cheese burger. I really wasn't paying that much attention to what the others ordered because I was hungry.

Strike 1: The Sandwich Masquerading As A Burger

I think I got my burger almost an hour after ordering it. And it didn't even look like a burger. It was 2 slices of wheat bread with a burger patty in between. Being a tolerant person, I didn't say anything much. It tasted like a burger so, whatever.

Strike 2: The Sandwich Masquerading As A Burger: Miniature Edition

Safti ordered the exact same thing but he got his order much later than mine and instead of using the same bread, they used tiny ass slices of white loaf bread, which was clearly half the size of mine!

Strike 3: It's Only Simple Math, Not Rocket Science

Dennise was so pissed off already and after 2 hours of waiting for our food, we just didn't want to wait any longer. So we asked for the bill for whatever was actually served and we would leave. And it took them forever to compute the costs!

So, with Dennise shaking with anger and me commandeering the "cashier's desk" to calculate the bill myself, we left and transferred to El Nido Boutique and Art Cafe. Reviews put it as overpriced but at least they served you what you asked for and not some version of it.

Whatever.

Anyway, Meike and Rich arrived on our last night in El Nido. Over drinks, Dennise and I were teaching Rich useful phrases in both Tagalog and Bisaya (which is the dialect spoken in most of the cities in Visayas and Mindanao). "Help me" is "Tulungan mo ako" in Tagalog and "Tabangi ko" in Bisaya.

Then, Rich asks for the translation of "Help me, I'm drowning."

Now, Dennise is not deaf. But there are times when she hears things differently, to put it mildly.

"What? Help me, I'm German?"

Pastilan.

A Blog In Parts: Imagine That

2010-03-30T08:41:00.015+08:00

The driver must've been surprised when he picked us up at the airport. There he was, holding a sign for Farina Zafra, then sees this short person flanked by NINE GERMANS.

The place we stayed in at Puerto Princesa was nice enough. Lots of food places but on the first night there, unarmed with the necessary tourist information, we settled for dinner at Shakey's. We had asked for directions to a Vietnamese restaurant place and I don't know whether the guy at the Puerto Pension didn't know squat or whether he was just really bad at giving directions, but we found ourselves in the streets of Puerto Princesa, hungry and nowhere near a Vietnamese place. So after walking several blocks, dinner became pizza.

That was March 23. Which also happened to be a Tuesday. Hence, TV Tuesday: Palawan Edition. (Which was 9 of us struggling to watch Big Bang Theory on Karsten's tiny ass netbook.)

The next day was reserved for the Sabang Underground River Tour. Yet another van ride but it wasn't too bad. We were split into two groups since they didn't have boats that could accommodate 11 people. (Is it just me or is that odd number 11 really annoying? I am the 11th person. 11th wheel. Odd man out. Meh...)

I've never been in any underground rivers before but as far as candidates for the Seven Wonders Of The World go, the Sabang Underground River was pretty cool. And the boatmen seemed to know what they were doing despite the total darkness. Although, there is something to be said about the weird stone structures inside the cave thing. Like Dennise said, it was all about the power of suggestion. If the boatman had said that the slab of rock to the right looked like a leprechaun with daisies in his hair, we would probably have imagined that as well. There was one that apparently looked like a bear attacking a cat. Why a bear would attack a cat is beyond me.

Anyway, on the way back to Puerto Princesa, we stopped by a mangrove forest and took the boat tour. Maybe it was the total silence or maybe mangroves are just plain boring, but I was drifting in and out of sleep. After the tour, Dennise wanted to go take a swim. I was in the middle of taking my shirt off (I had a bathing suit underneath, okay?) when Dennise just shrieks, "JELLYFISH! I am not swimming in there with those fucking jellyfish!"

Okaaaay. Shirt back on. Sat back on the bench. After a few minutes...

"Far, that jellyfish is already dead, right?"

"Mm-hm."

"I want to go poke the dead jellyfish."

"Why?"

"I just want to."

Then, she proceeds to take a stick, hands it over to me, then says,

"Far, poke the jellyfish."

Our friendship knows no bounds.

A Blog In Parts: Pi, Papa Pi, Papa Pi.... Ding Dong!

2010-03-29T16:45:00.011+08:00

When I was still a student, I pretty much opted out of out-of-town trips and such. I had no life outside of Cagayan de Oro before I got my degree.

So when we had two days to kill before my workaholic friends returned to work while I left with the rest of the GerMen for Palawan, I joined the minibus city tour and explored Cebu like the newbie tourist that I was. I've been to Cebu a couple of times before but only on a I-have-a-connecting-flight basis. All I had ever seen was the inside of Mactan International Airport and some mall where I bought tickets for a boat trip back to Cagayan. Like I said, I had no life before finishing medical school.

Anyway, nothing that amazing. Just monuments and stuff. Bought dead starfish at a souvenir shop thing in Mactan, along with a sling bag that will eventually go to my sister. Our last stop was at some beach resort where some of the GerMen rented jet skis while Dennise and I took pictures. Well, mostly Dennise telling me to take pictures. Then me nagging her to go get my mango shake. We have a symbiotic yelling relationship. ^_^

We capped the day with dinner at Crown Regency and the famous Skywalk. They basically attach you to some cables and you walk around the perimeter of the building's 34th floor. Being a mountain-dweller (of Zafra Heights), it wasn't that scary except when the wind got too strong. In any case, it looked pretty safe. BUT... Atty. Marisse Lico (of Lico Lane) refused to sign the waiver. She reviewed it for the longest time and just flat out refused to sign it. O diba? Lawyered. (But she signed it after the walk so she could get her certificate. Hihihi...)

So we got our certificates, proof that we can stand six feet from the edge and thinking... it's sooooo faaaaar down. ^_^

And then the strangest thing. There we were, Dennise and I, just outside of Starbucks when this guy comes up and asks, nay, insists on having his picture taken with the both of us. And he even had the gall to make Karsten take the picture. Can you believe this guy?!

LOL! Animas...

If you're not laughing (or cursing or itching to scratch my eyes out), then you probably don't have any idea who Ding Dong Dantes is and that whole joke was wasted on you. Of course, we gloated about this to Marisse and the rest, who left mere minutes before Ding Dong arrived.

If there is anything about Cebu that I will remember until the day Parkinson's fries my brain, it will be the Ding Dong photo. (And also Dennise's wedding. eep...)

Edit: Due to insistent German demand, I have to mention that the photo I posted was the second photo with The Doorbell, as Karsten likes to call Ding Dong. The first one was taken with Dennise. What happened was that I was fine with sharing the photo with Dennise but she was all, "No! Me first with Ding Dong then you!", while shoving me out of the frame.

Okaaaay.