Thursday, December 27, 2007

Do You Know That It's Hard To Cut A Queso De Bola?

Man, I tried it and I almost lost a finger. All I want is a few pieces to go with the hamon we cooked for noche buena. My friend ,J., is apparently adept in doing it. So, he did cut it for me. First, he cut a few centimeters from the top of the ball to make a flat surface, placed the tip of the knife at the center and carved little wedges with the bottom half of the blade. He maneuvered the knife freely, holding the tip with the right hand and sliced across the flat surface. produding small wedges of the cheese.

After my first try, I stood there watching him, gnawing at the cheese bits I got from the top potion that he took out; breaking piece by piece and munching the tiny bits of cheese that came out from the process.

"There's no way I am gonna do that."

No way. I was wincing on the way how he got the tiny wedges. A tiny slip of the knife is an obvious way to disaster. Being the non-health-insured persons in the house, there is no way in this earth that I will repeat his process of cutting queso de bola. Would I take the risk for the taste of pinoy Christmas (that is queso de bola)? No way. I began to appreciate moldy feet cheese anyway since I got here in the US. Roquefort and Gorgozola are the best although they really smell like feet, after wading through the flood waters of Espana. So, I'd better stay in easy-to-cut (safe) cheese. Even the red wax of the queso de bola looks like blood to me. And no, I am not going to Sweeney-Todd my left thumb for that. I

But gosh, its sooo good! Paired with the ham we cooked, the queso de bola was awesome!! It transported me to my childhood Christmas days when we used to spend it in my grandma's house. She loves queso de bola and Excellente ham (which my mom used to get from Quiapo). Her house smells of barako coffee all the time (my grandfather is from Batangas) and Christmas eve is no exception (even though its 12 midnight). After exchanging gifts, we used to sit around the table, grab our share of ham and queso de bola, dip our bread in the coffee and finish it with a mouthful of Christmas fruits (that means apples, grapes and pears. We only can afford to eat those fruits during Christmas).

I never considered it a special treat since we have queso de bola every freaking Christmas and it never runs out until the week after New Year (sometimes I would even give some of it to the cats, you know, just to get it over with). My lola would slice it then into wedges, so I never had an idea how difficult it can be. Not until now. I learned that you have to be, at least, a Benjamin Barker to get a freaking slice of that hard, uneventful, salty cheese.

But, I am glad that we had queso de bola this Christmas. It took away the melancholy of being too far from home. Every bite gave a tiny bit of nostalgia; an illusion of being home, of how life can be so simple and uncomplicated. Those simple bits of cheese on a cold winter Christmas night (that waaas so deep), on a noche buena spend with friends, whom you now consider your family, can make a huge difference.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Cross-posting is a geek's orgasm

Finally, I get to cross post from my old blog to Multiply! Technology is alive! IT GROWS!

I also got this scripting software from scribefire which automatically posts my blog entries directly to blogger. I hope they have the multiply edition so I wouldn't have to check cross blogging every now and then...

But still, I am happy. I love the internet. Mwah!

I would like to commend, too, the makers of Coffee Break Spanish and Coffee Break French, two of my favorite podcasts in the whole universe. I looove you, guys. They make a relevant Spanish and French program in 45 minutes. They are really great and definitely worth checking out.

I heart Shelfari, too because I don't my books anymore. I know its stupid but I miss my bookshelf at home. I stare at it once in a while and marvel at all those pages I've read and all the books I kept to remind me of the time I lost lurking in the four corners of my room. The lost time wasn't that bad but I should have gone out a lot more during those times. (There are entire summers in high school where I lock myself in my room and read books). Phew, I am such a geek.

This is a test post. But I hope it did entertain...


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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

House of Blue Leaves in Juilliard Drama Theater

Funny, cause we met in the elevator. I was with my friends that afternoon, on our way down from the recital room on the third floor. Alex had his voice recital and the rest of the pinoy mafia in New York gave their support. We were joking and talking in Tagalog in the elevator when Cristina walked in. She was surprised to ride in an elevator full of pinoys.

"San kayo galing?" she asked with an astonished face.
"Dyan lang po sa Cubao," I replied with a sardonic grin.

Along the freezing 66th street, she lit a cigarette, and I gladly joined her. Then, we started chatting. She invited me to her play, The House of Blue Leaves, which I did watch two days after. I was also surprised to learn that she was the stage manager of Magno Rubio, a play I watched back during the summer and which I had penned a review in haste. The review was published in a Filipino newspaper, but I never had a chance to clip.

The play is about a couple, Bananas (because she's a schizophrenic) and her husband, Artie, a zookeeper who dreams of being a songwriter and a hit in Hollywood. It also involves a hilarious mistress, a deaf starlet and a group of nuns. The story was set in 1967, the year the Pope went to New York. Based on the cacophony of characters, it is a farce, satirical at most. The main theme revolves in Art's desperate dream to make it big in Hollywood and how he perceives and eventually deceives everyone so it can be realized.

The actors are awesome! I guess you wont be in Juilliard if you're just a ham. They were really good, aside from being good looking, and I would bet that they will land in Hollywood themselves in the near future. They are from group 37 of the Julliard drama class. Laura Linney was group 19 and no doubt she had a great education from Juilliard. (I just watched her recently in The Savages and in Kinsey. She is simply amazing.)

I had a cig with Cristina after and told me a lot of things about the Filipino theater culture in the city. She used to have a regular job, but, her love for theater brought her and her friends to establish the Ma-yi Theater downtown (where Magno was staged). I also learned that Magno is a pretty old piece: it was shown in 2000, went out, went off-Broadway and garnered 10 Obie awards. The first Magno is a Fil-Am actor who also did drama studies in Juilliard and later, the role was given to Jojo. Paolo was not part of the original cast and Bernardo is a recent addition to the cast, too. It was overwhelming to learn about this things from an insider because I am fascinated with the play. I think it was ingeniously made and kept the Filipino flavor intact. I was almost in tears when I first watched it.

It is really amazing to find these Filipinos in the city, save for the Filipinos who doesn't speak "Tah-gay-log" cause they moved here when they were 15. I am eager to meet the latter to smash their face on the nearest wall. Well figuratively, of course. At least. Hehe. But no, seriously, I love meeting Filipinos bursting with pinoy pride. It makes a positive affirmation that everything is not lost for the country. Just like everyone else who has hope for the Philippines, it makes us feel a little bit better.


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Monday, December 17, 2007

Kinsey

I just finished watching Kinsey, in this computer. In fact, three seconds ago, I clicked the x at the upper right hand of the screen to terminate the program that allowed me to view that amazing film. I cried. I needed some tears and emotion once in a while and the film has provided me more than saline output and nose goo.

So, I've been living my days with films, books, plays interspersed with bouts of medical reading. I figured that since I am still idle, it would be worthwhile to reinforce my medical knowledge by going through all these books and making notes. Medicine has been a hurdle for me. Although, I guess every doctor would have the difficulty of stuffing our tiny neurons with the humongous data about our bodies. The normal is too much to comprehend, and knowing the abnormal is just too much for the human mind. I am speaking for myself here, and as always, there are exceptions of this rule. I am rather in the middle of that normal curve of human intelligence of retaining medical knowledge.

But why these films? These books? Are they worth watching? Reading? At first, they aim to entertain. It was a diversion to greater amount of knowledge I should have, and have always wanted to master, but, the entertainment and intellectual challenge was different, and at the same time, engaging. Medicine is a science, but humanity dwell in these.

As you can tell, I am particularly enthralled about humanities. It's amazing how authors and screenwriters would put it into words and filmmakers would effectively bring music, words and actors together in order for us to feel the emotions and the importance of life, as told in the stories. As a doctor, I encountered stories about my patients when I go to the clinic (I miss those) and it takes understanding and character to really appreciate each tale, to extract human emotion, to understand conflict, suffering and even love.

Going back to film, I identify myself with the Dr. Kinsey. It's more than the sexuality issue, but being a scientist myself, I understand his suffering. It sucks when everyone does not believe in your science. It sucks when someone says that you are wasting your time. I have stayed more than 8 months here in the US, trying to get the science I wanted, and it is just appalling for some people to say that I should have left my profession and pursue a more financially rewarding path. I could have, but ot just don't feel right. Until now, I am just following my instincts, hoping to prove those who believe otherwise that they were wrong. The light is nearer than before. I just hope I can get to the end of it.

I highly believe that Kinsey was a good film. Moreover, I saw it in an appropriate time. My friend here in NY told John Mayer in person, "Your music hits me in the right mood and in the right time," and similarly, I just felt that the movie hit me on the right spot. John Mayer gave him a hug and said, "Thanks, man" and my friend never forgot that encounter.

I need a hug sometimes. Fortunately, my friends have been always good to me and I feel hugged most of the time.

But a lot of "hugs" from books and films like these, especially when I am sitting alone in their Manhattan apartment. And it seems I will never get enough.


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Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I'm Back in the City

I've been in the hells Kitchen for 3 days now and I've been catching up for lost time. I turned again to my old New York City life. I didn't miss it, honestly. But it would be nice to sublimate for a while...forgetting all my worries for one or two days. I would want to have more of it, but just like anything good and pleasurable in this world, it disappears and sinks below the surface when real life sets in.

Its a nice time to be in NYC actually. The city is on fire with all the Christmas lights up around and it feels really good. Christmas mood is always nice. Since the cold has already set in, the ambiance is perfect for the season.

Sometimes, loneliness hits me once in a while, but I can never think of any place I would want to be. Its a matter of doing things I really want. I honestly don't want to be with anybody, and add up to the complexity of my current work and life situation, but solitude does kick your butt sometimes. I guess NYC has a lot of influence on what I am feeling right now. The city can be romantic sometimes, albeit most of the time people can be so distant and cold. All the lights in Columbus Circle and the Christmas songs in the area make you want to grab and hug someone. Nevertheless, I enjoy this moments of solitude. Being alone has its perks. Top of the list is that I control my own time; and for now, time is a precious gem in my hands.

Recently, I've been telling myself that I have a lot to do. I have several projects which haven't attained completion. Even near completion. Time is a huge factor for these projects but there's no reason to take it slowly. Good thing about staying in Pennsylvania is that I am able to focus on these tasks (although my friend's ginormous 51" television haunted me for three days. I did not let go of the damn remote for the whole time) and surviving isn't that expensive.




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Friday, November 23, 2007

Anonymous, You Make Sense!

Sometimes, it really sucks to admit that some people are right.

Also, I hate it when sometimes you have to suck your gut and inhale the air of retreat and do whatever is necessary. I think it is necessary to do that. Well, I kept it and decided to show it off again after I am in THE safe zone. It makes sense. I should think of my future now, which I have been continually discarding over and over.

I thought of the first amendment and my own history. I am notorious for speaking up my mind and telling the truth. In the past, I stumbled into HUGE trouble for telling the truth and now, my instinct would tell me to just blurt out the truth because if you got into trouble, at least you have dignity for yourself. But life is like medicine. You don't get the same patient and the same case twice.

It doesn't feel right, actually. But I think I have to do it.

Thanks, guardian angel out there. That's true, it may affect the course of things. So, I'm putting it down. But, if its up there again, you know that I am safe. I have landed on the safe zone. I owe it to myself to write with passion and honesty.





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Thursday, November 22, 2007

Better The Second Time Around

Two days after my second interview, I have come to realize that Pennsylvania is not THAT a terrible place to work in. It is near New York (matters most), Washington, Baltimore and Philadelphia. There's a lot to do in the backyard towns and it will keep me focused on my medicine. More importantly, my friends are here. I have tons of friends to in New York but my friends here go back to ancient history. Gosh, we went to first year college together and been friends since then. That's a whopping 13-year history of friendship. It trumps everything: it matters a lot when you are around people who you know you can depend on.

Anyway, interviewer #1 was pinoy. Boy, I was so glad. We started from standard interview questions, Tell me about yourself, What are you weaknesses and blah blah, but later on, we found ourselves talking about Filipino pop music. He even listed the artists I listen to! He is interested that I know how to cook pinoy (that's slightly BS, really) and computed how much I make in the Philippines (it was waaay below the poverty line). He shook my hand after the interview and told me di bale, gagawan natin ng paraan yan. I hope I made a good impression. I think I did, though.

Interview #2 was also plain great. It was more of an exchange of experiences as a clinician and I think I made myself clear that I have confidence in doing medicine. Moreover, I know what this profession needed me to do. Actually, it was this time that I lay down my rare cases card which hopefully will trump the researches of the Ecuadorian guy and the 99-nothing-could-be-better-scores of my aromatic competitors. (I will not elaborate on the olfactory torture.)

Lastly, I spoke to the PD and complemented her about the curriculum of the program. It was a tad of kissing ass, but I hope it didn't sound like it. For all intents and purposes, I meant it. Yeah, I liked the program. I would love to be their neophyte. She sounds really motherly and very accommodating, which I like.

Things were good, until we met the residents. Most of them are females and estrogen did flowed like water from Niagara Falls. Complaints popped here and there because of having a "bad" call, which I think should not be a topic of conversation since we (the applicants) are still there. As residents, you have nothing to complain about: its part of training. I used to run the NICU, PICU and wards of this hospital for the money and it took me two and a half years to realize its a waste of time. I did not exactly prayed for a bad call but, during those times I did not sleep a wink, I learned 10x more than when I am benign. A toxic call happens to every doctor on duty and its a matter of luck. So, shut the fuck up. OK, say your shit once and that's it.

Some moron guru gave an advice to ask as many questions as possible. So, every time an interviewer would ask do you have any questions?, one should be prepared with a question, regardless of how stupid it can be. Apparently, annoying co-interviewee read the same moronic advice. He was like shooting questions like a contestant from Jeopardy (What is blah?). I almost threw up. And, every time somebody asks do you have any questions?, my guts would move a peristaltic inch. Thats why I cannot eat my freaking lunch! This annoying intern who sat beside me kept on asking me that question. Worse of all, she would shrug her answer and starts asking me do you have any questions over and over. I gave her a NO and ditched moron guru's advice. Screw tact and reason. Can we be like two people in a bar and talk like normal people? They just seem not interested in you until you become their intern (read: slave). I would like to think that I am normal and I would like to think I am within the bounds of normal than most of them. I read, watch TV, listen to music, get drunk, get laid, skip class, wake late, smoke cigs, shop for hair products as a normal person would do. Apparently, they are not interested. I think I've learned my lesson. The next time someone will ask me for a question, I shall be bolder. I will give them one: when is the last time you get laid? If the answer is as often as Meredith or McDreamy, I'll surely beg them to take me in.


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Sunday, November 18, 2007

I Am Giving My Blogspot A Makeover

I guess I cannot just let it go. I've been posting in my multiply forever (since its easier) but I think blogspot will catch up with the intricacies Multiply had done with its site. But I got this scritpting software which posts to blogger directly. So, I've decided to keep my blogger account for the small posts and rants and quirks that I would like to look back to when I'm old and gray (NOOOO!)

The weather has been crazy here in Pennsylvania and I am hating it. We had a few weeks of autumn weather (my favorite) but I guess we're doing winter now. Global warming really had sinked in. Bummer.

I'll be having another interview tomorrow, so I have to hype myself to it. Penn State is a university program and I have to appear more academic on this one. I also want to be accepted in program, so I want to do extremely good in this. So, I have a lot of work to do today: preparing my clothes, phrasing my answers and researching about the program.

I better get going.


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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Everything is Driving Me Crazy

Oh, I entitled this one as such on a more positive note, I am not depressed nor anxious. Well, so-so. My day-to-day activities has been dimly unproductive for the past few days, and my obsessive-compulsive self is battling with my laid-back-I-don't-care self inside my head. It IS driving me crazy. Let me illustrate:

I have been studying Spanish for the longest time, right? I've been babbling about this obsession of learning this language since, probably, last year. I love books; so, I got my hand in every Spanish learning book I could afford. I surrounded myself with Shakira, Chayanne and Los Lonely Boys music and tried to dissect the lyrics of their songs. I have tried watching Spanish films without subtitles. I've done everything to learn Spanish but I still can't get it right. Conjugating verbs within the snap of a finger is still a Mt Everest for me. Its not easy, and its driving me crazy. I have to at least demonstrate what I know on my next interview, but here I am, stuck in perfecting the perfect past, simple past and the present progressive and the rest of the BS tenses blubbery that is espanol. I suck in this. Left brain needs a whacking.

Of course, I will not give up. It is just exasperating to know that there are common words between Spanish and Tagalog, but why did the stupid Spaniards declined to teach us their Spanish? Tagalog sounded like pidgin English compared to Spanish. It is just outrageous. They plundered us for 300 years, changed all our names to Spanish, but they thought Filipinos shouldn't be taught proper Spanish. It's like getting a white boyfriend and not teach him Tagalog; so that you can curse him to high heavens, during those deliriously stupid petty quarrels. And since we were in this topic, I just learned that Filipinos need to have a visa to go to Spain. What the hell? Thanks for the 300 years of colonial rule. The only good thing that happened to the modern-day Philippines after the Spanish rule is the 6-storey ophthalmology clinic in PGH, which was completed when I left the university. Big Whoop. We even need to ask permission from our oppressors to go to their country. Geez.

I met a Spanish tourist several years ago, who went to the Philippines and visited Palawan and Boracay for a month. He was with his French boyfriend and stayed in the newly built hotel in P.Gil (the one with the Casino). He was surprised how the culture was similar to his native Spain, which is 3,000 miles away. He was amazed that we call our cutlery cubiertos and we know how to cook adobo; we call our horses kabayo and sit on a silya. His ears would hear Spanish words, but when he talk in Spanish, no one would understand. Well, there you go. That was precisely my point. Again, thank you for the 300-year colonial rule.

OK, I officially sound uncool from all my rants. I'll get to the bottom of this. I swear. Change topic.

The show Heroes is also driving me crazy right now. Things are heating up in the show and everything will be exciting in the next three episodes. Monday has been my favorite TV day, so far. I've been watching Chuck and Heroes every Monday night and i can say its good. Monday is TV day because the rest of the week, I usually lock myself up in one of the rooms and study freaking SPANISH. Ok, sorry, totally uncool, totally uncalled for.

I need a fucking cigarette.


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Thursday, November 08, 2007

Sad news brought me sad memories



Girl who killed self lamented family’s poverty in diary



I just read this article from a forum and it really broke my heart. Is our people really THAT hopeless? I have to share my thoughts and experience on this one:

I remember some months before I came here in the US, our regular maggugulay came up to our gate asking for help for his 8 year old daughter. Apparently, she was in the hospital and suffering from Dengue fever and his father was asking around our village for money, because her
platelets are so low that she needs to have a transfusion. I didn't
think it was a scam that time, because I saw the father's eyes as he
begged for a little cash. I am also low in cash as I only have 2 one
hundred dollar bills in my wallet. I handed out one 100-peso bill and left
out the other to sit undisturbed in my wallet. He was grateful for the money
and hurriedly walked away.

He ran away quickly and suspicion aroused in my part. What if its a scam? I really don't know the guy but he introduced himself as a vegetable
vendor whom my mom gets her weekly stash of vegetables. I shooed the
thought away and hope for the best for her daughter. It was just a hundred, I thought. But it is enough money for transpo and food for a day. That's ok, I assured myself. If it were true, I helped the poor guy out and my conscience is spared.



Two days later, he was back. He stood in front of our gate with a sad, long face asking once again for money. I thought, WTF? He
told me wasn't able to come up with cash to afford the platelet
transfusion the last time and this time, he needs it to bury
his daughter. My heart sank. Literally, I died, before him. I was standing upright but I can feel myself sprawling on the ground.

A lightning of thoughts flashed across my head: I should have given him the other one
hundred dollar bill.
I thought about it a million times and scourged myself as I hear it in my brain. Oh, that poor girl. And her father: the thin, frail man before me, was asking money for her burial. It was the most heartbreaking moment to be in. Honestly, I never felt so helpless before. He told me that it was a great loss. She was a smart girl and could have been their hope. He told that to me with dry eyes, probably strained and dried up from all his weeping. He cannot cry anymore. Now, he has no money to bury his own daughter and all he has is this misery and twisted hope that people will pity his situation. All I could think of is giving him every cent I had in my wallet. I did not let myself to think. I was consumed by my guilt and thought of how to help this poor, poor man.

But, would
it have made a difference? Would another hundred dollar bill save her
daughter's life? It wouldn't be enough for a transfusion anyway and I
don't expect a lot of people in our small subdivision would believe his
story and could not beg enough money to afford it. I tried to blame the government, our corrupt governance and our stupid, imbecile of a health system. I blamed Gloria, Erap, Marcos and all the past presidents who promised us hope for this country. But, it is useless to blame. One life was lost and more will be at stake as we go through the "dengue season" year after year.

How can we bring hope for our people?


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Wednesday, November 07, 2007

On writing

Looking back on my interview a week ago, I realized that the more I think about my interests in humanities and literature, the more I wanted to write. Not just blog writing, but to take it to a whole new level and do writing projects that I am interested with. Honestly, I can think of three people who had motivated me to do so: One is my friend Beej, who lead me back to reading and realize why I read a lot of lit about humanities. I think life is too short to follow James Patterson's and Patricia Cornell's literary career. Learning about people and history has more thrill than reading about their brand of suspense.

Second, my friend M. from New York, who after building his own pharm company, went back to writing and created a lot of literary projects for his country (Iran). He wrote fiction, and was duly noted for that. He translated Persian texts and wrote a whole lot of short stories. He moved to the US when he was in high school, threatened by his mom to forget lit, otherwise, he has to pay for his education and then came out to be a successful businessman at the prime of his life. It was an inspiring story and it had showed me that people just have to do the things they deem important in their life and what they perceive as the most effective way to effect change, and somehow, the universe conspires to make it come true.

Third, I just read this book from Atul Gawande entitled Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science. I'm just sorry because I can't really believe this guy wrote a book while doing surgery residency. I also admire his dedication to the medical profession. He writes well, too. I just can't think how he did it. AND he has a wife and I think, two kids. Gosh. It takes a lot of talent, courage and a whole gamut of good qualities to really come up with such a good book.

The whole thought about post colonial literature has also given me PURPOSE in writing. I have read several books in my humanities class about post-colonialism and it did not spark any interest on me. Then I understood about oppression, Social change and class struggle. I started appreciating these subjects when I started to understand the whole deal about EDSA. Before, I used to think that EDSA was just a hype: people throwing out a dictator. I just don't get all the hype and international media coverage. At that time, I thought it happens and to some point people just can't bear it. Anyway, when I learned about martial law, the Marcos regime and the human rights violation, I realized that it is something important and should be made clear what EDSA represented to each and every Filipino. We take our national identity for granted, and a lot of people here in the US would say unsolicited comment about the Philippines and how life will never be better for a lot of pinoys. But then, we should be blamed about it; for looking over the fence and seeking for better pastures. We chose to look for answers elsewhere. It is a personal matter for me, because it was my choice, too.

Funny, because I came to a point of realizing and pondering about this as I watch the TV show Kid Nation. 40 kids in the middle of a desert and struggling to make their small town work. The kids asked if they would want to go home every other show but surprisingly, only 2 have left after 20 days in the desert. They would rather stay and make Bonanza (the town) a better place and work hard with the uncertainty of being rewarded for hard work. (One kid is given a gold star every episode as nominated by the community; it is worth 20,000 in gold). The choice is there. Go home, watch tv and be a kid or work hard, stick to the desert but a possibility of earning money for the future. And at their age, and their Erikson's psychosocial stage of industry vs inferiority, these kids chose to work. Manual labor work. Amazing. It's just unbelievable.

And they stood by their decision. They committed in making the town work.

I had two realizations on this: one, as a smart kid and speaking for those smart kids that I went to school with, we could have chose to be where we used to be and make it a better place. But two, the Marcos regime has stripped our parents the hope of a better Philippines. It set corruption deeply imposed in our moral faculties and it would be impossible to escape in this quagmire of moral depreciation. And the only solution, is to flee. Sadly, we were born to a generation where hope is lost and we were educated to our fullest potential, to find out later on, that our bags are already packed, unknowingly by those who believe that there is nothing can be done and have resigned to our nation's purloined fate.


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Monday, November 05, 2007

Interview #1 down

I had my first interview last Thursday in Pennsylvania. I had a great time, actually. One of the attendings who interviewed me is an OB-GYN and we talked about my experiences as a community obstetrician. She is also apparently a musician, so we did have a common ground to walk upon. She was nice to me and I can see that she is, well, impressed with my clinical experience. The other attending is a behavioralist and has a BA in English. I can say that we can talk the whole day. We went past the 45 minute time for my interview and I can feel that I can talk to her until 5am the next morning, but I guess I need a lot of booze past 12. Anyway, we talked about books and my recommendations for her. We talked about humanities in which I am truly interested more than medicine. My medical career had failed me in a million ways that I can think of. I don't think a book failed my expectations ever. So we talked about that and my interest in books tackling cultural assimilation and psychology. I think I got her. Jerry Mcguire might have been caught with hello, but I caught her with Dogeaters (Jessica Hagedorn's book about the Marcos regime).

Nevertheless, I am not still saved from the search. Each of them asked if I could really speak Spanish. 'Cause it says so in my application. Sure, I can speak some Spanish but I am not yet fluent. Yet. I am still working on it. ALthough I pressured myself in learning the language prior to the interview in the aim of shedding truth in my working application, it wasnt enough by the time I had the interview. But, now I am still perfecting my spanish and learning 20 words everyday.

For those who think that Spanish is easy and would resemble our vernacular, you are a deliberate ignoramus. It is not easy , nor amorous. I had never found conjugating verbs as tedious as conjugating paramecia. (That's easy, dump them in a hay infusion and --tada--4 million paramecium by conjugation and of course, cell division. Now, you can tell that I really am a geek). Dang, I used to hate gerunds and other stupid English parts of speech but I never thought I would hate VERBS that much. Que asco!

Anyway, I just hope my interview went well and consider me as a family medicine resident in their hospital. I don't really care if I'll be staying in Lebanon,PA for 3 years (Hello, cows and salami). It is just such a relief that New York and 42nd Street is 3 hours away. Let's see in a few weeks.


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Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Of Lizards and Cavemen

TIME: 12:33 pm
PLACE: Freeway - 30 W near H St
EVENT: We crashed the car while doing 80 miles on the freeway. Beej and I were both stunned because its our first time to be in a motor accident.
HOW: We were on our way to Glendora to have lunch with Tita P when our rear left tire lost thread. We were moving fast on the 30 west freeway when it happened. Beej slowed down, trying to keep the wheel straight, when the car started to wobble. Then, he tried to get out of the lane we are in, aiming towards the right shoulder. Next thing we knew is that we were slowly spinning towards my direction, perpendicular to the incoming traffic and diagonally across the freeway, careening towards the steel gutters in the left shoulder. The rear end of the car hit the gutter, gave us a minor whiplash on our seats and went straight to the left shoulder. We looked at each other after the mishap, thanking God that we were fine.
WHY: Tobey is an old car. A 1997 Summit with 97,000 of mileage that Beej picked from Long Island. Although it is relatively unspent for its age, the tires are now brittle and unfit for the hot, California freeway. The roads were baked in the 110 degree heat that afternoon and the tires is not up for the torch.
WHY WE THANK GOD: We could have died if it happened in a different place and time.
1) If we took the 10 instead of the 30 W, the busy freeway would have created a lot more damage. Imagine a mass of incoming cars coming right at you at 70-80 miles per hour.
2) If it happened during our road trip in the middle of New Mexico or Arizona, I could have been pulling my head and tearing my eyes out.
3) If I was driving, I could have busted my lungs out, screaming. But, then that's a long shot. Indeed, a very, very long shot. While I was learning how to drive, I dented my dad's car. I never touched the wheel since then, ergo, I never learned to drive at all.
CONSEQUENCE: We were stunned for 2 minutes. We were shaking and I couldn't speak for a while. Two drivers who saw the whole thing stopped and asked us if we were fine. In fairness, they made sure we could walk and talk fine before leaving us in the freeway. Beej called the cops, AAA and Geico. AAA was fast, the highway cop was irritating at first and Geico gave us the worst shit of all. To put it in simple terms, basic insurance for the 12-year old car covers wreck when we hit a car or got hit by one. Since the Summit's wreck was due to a flat tire, Tobey won't get anything and Beej receives nothing, just sympathy. Screw them! Caveat emptor: Read your policy before buying your car insurance. Its so easy to sign up online but it's a freaking steal. Now, I'm beggining to hate lizards and cavemen.
LOOKING AT THE BRIGHT SIDE: It was my first ride on an AAA tow truck. Wooohooo!
PROCESSING: As we were doing the 180 deg turn, I was wondering how hard the impact will be. We were destined to hit the metal railing anyway, it matters if the impact is huge enough to cost us our lives. When it hit the railing, my head was thrown to the headrest and the car slowed down to the left shoulder. It was fine...thank God, I thought, but I held my breath until the car came to a complete stop. I freed my lungs with that breathful of air, realizing at that point, that I wasn't alone with that sigh. We actually shared the carbon dioxide and the feeling of absolution in that long, worthwhile release of burning air.

We could have died. We actually couldn't believe the fact that we were in a point that our lives could have expired, and, it will be the end of it all. Poof, gone. And boy, how upset my mom will be! (Thank God, she isn't even near the term tech-savvy, thus, no way to read this post.) After that, we were begging for a supreme force to beam us back to New York. Or a supreme being to do that for us, like Hiro Nakamura. We suddenly felt nostalgia for the subway, the walks in Central Park and convenience of the metro card. New York...where our concerns revolved in weight loss, smoke money and unemployment. Gosh, I couldn't wait to go back.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Ano na naman ito??

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIzcUlQFTjg

I am so sorry but I am sick and tired of Willie. Can you just axe him from the noon time show business?? Isn't it enough for him to massacre 73 people? And now pinapalabas nya na martyr pa sya since pinapasaya nya ang buong Pilipinas. Shut up, man. Sorry ABS guys. I boycotted his show since the stampede happened. Can you take seeing your kababayans die after shitting in their pants, standing in line for 3 days and doing everything standing up? I am sorry but this is beyond my level of comprehension of humanity. I mean I dont care about the geeks who lined up for Harry Potter, the iPhone and the Wii---at the end nobody died. But these people lined up and lost their lives for this freaking show. My question is WHY IS IT STILL IN THE AIR? The tragedy was so outrageous that even Chancellor Nemenzo made a comment on it in the Inquirer, condemning the show and saying it cultivates a culture of begging, which I think is so much true.

For the argument at hand, it was an obvious mistake and Willie should do reparations for that. Its obvious that he is not taking his work seriously and this mistake translates to pandadaya. What is so wrong about Joey's comment about it?

Mr Willie, I think you owe the public a lot of explanation.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Are We There Yet?

One of the must-have skill that I haven't learned yet is driving. So, when my friend Beej asked me to go with him on a cross-country drive to LA, I said yes, for the lack of better things to do. And then he went: "We can switch turns on the wheel." Uh-huh. Honey, I would LOVE to, but then I don't want to end up dead in the middle of Lubbock, Texas. He still took me in for the offer regardless (irregardless) of my incapacity. He's one heck of a friend!

In five hours, we will start our 4 day journey to California, which I have been dreading since the beginning of this week. I've never tried sitting in a car in a 12-hour car drive before. No, sir. So, I've been researching for the best route, best places to go (i.e. all those non-driving stuff), things to watch out for and this has kept me busy for the past days. I've been doing road researching and motel checks. So far, the only thing sure is the interstates that we are going to take. Hopefully, by the end in day 1, we will find ourselves in Dayton. OH. But then lets see.

So...it will be Beej, me and-- tada!--Cubby...his irritating pomeranian pooch, which I am willing to trade off for a room somewhere in Tulsa, OK. Bwahaha. Well, Cubby has a temper, which is apt for his 14-year life in this human world: if I am THAT old, I'll be grumpy as well. So we'll be bringing his car loaded with a trunkfull of books, backseat-full of clothes, two iPods, two sacks of chips, a cooler with water and soda and two laptops. Can we survive this one??

But I am excited as well. This is an adventure of a lifetime! A tick on the list of the stuff that you'll do once but never try again: e.g. standing for 4 hours in Times Square, in freezing weather, waiting for the wretched disco ball to fall down in New Years' Eve and jumping a cliff in Batangas that almost broke my coccyx (buti na lang it was soft sand). Hmmm...I wonder what Oklahoma looks like. And Texas and oh, New Mexico. One thing I like to do with trips is navigating. This time we are not using GPS but a guide from AAA and a map of the US interstates. I just hope theres no obstacles in the way: traffic, closed roads and ugh, natural calamities which have been giving me cold feet since Monday.

Honestly, I am also having anxieties of leaving New York City. Although I'll just be spending 2 weeks in the west coast, I'll be having NYC withdrawal. The city is my addiction. Its like sucking a good breath of cigarette after sex. The city suffocates you at first but then it speeds up your circulation, elevates your blood pressure and makes you hold your dear breath like its your last one. It puts you in a higher plane of awareness and a sense of euphoria for being there. The blinding lights of Time Square is ecstasy without the pill: it heightens your senses and dampens your mood. And when your get your down, you crave more for the city. More of what it can offer. More of what it can give and definitely more than what you can take. The city is my addiction, and the metaphor is lucid as a dreamless night.

Moreover, I am truly appreciating my place in the city. Hell's Kitchen is the best place to be. Bars that I frequently go to are one to two blocks from each other. I walk to Broadway shows and Central Park. And I have my closest friends in my reach.

But maybe there's something in store for me in LA. Something that I have always wanted and still not yet realized. I believe that travel increases my luck. Not that I have luck yet, but it is just a fung shui thing that i picked from my friend. Luck for us slimy serpents who are not so lucky in this year.

Well, then, I am off to sleep now...

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Things To Do To Kill Idle Time

This is my time to build up unexploited knowledge that I am always planning to do. Now, I want to do it wholeheartedly, with passion so I could carry it to completion. I am tired of spending borrowed money so I would like spend the next few weeks indoors, researching and trying to enrich myself with these:

1. Learn Spanish. I am just lazy. I have 4 learn spanish books in here and tons of resources in the internet but I haven't really gave it some serious time. Goal: Watch Almodovar films without subtitles.

2. Master photography. Although I know some basic stuff, I want to really understand whats going on with the revolving switch on top of jeff's camera. And the manual settings to get a good picture. Goal: Take good pictures in the weekend. (I'm going to Maine).

3. Re start French. Started French two years ago, but figured that Spanish is more important to my career. Now, I realize that its good to know both, for career and personal reasons.

My ultimate dream is to live in Europe for a year. Just to immerse myself with the culture, take good pictures and eat good food. I would love to write a book about it and fill it with interesting pictures. Good plan, eh?

Friday, July 27, 2007

I'm So Tired Of Getting Unfortunate

Really. I am just tired of not getting what I want. I've been in this state for years and its getting tiring. But what can I do? I want to cry and claw my eyes out, tear my clothes and soak in the rain...but 1) there's no rain, 2) clothes are expensive and 3) I have this irritating tenacity that I cannot make myself cry in these situations. I am just so numb with all that has happened to me that I refuse to shed a single fucking tear for my own career. Its just not so worth it.

But then, I cannot afford a paradigm shift. I have a lot of options layed out in the table but somehow, I find it difficult to pick one and try....like there's a block of lead resting on my arm. I also have this huge anvil on my pride that makes me refuse to accept that everything I have worked for is not going so well. Sometimes I wonder if it's idiocy to peep through a pinhole of light when you can switch on a lightbulb.

What can I do to get this black cat out of me? I've tried fung shui, numerology for a time and even believe in horoscope. Prayers have been my refuge and I believe it works. But I still feel there's something that pulls me away from my goals, leading me away to the pits of darkness , to the cold and bitter riverbed left with the harrowness of a disgruntled pride. What invisible hand gently deter me from rising up to the surface and breathe in a normal stride? It's not even salvation that I look for: only a suck of calming air--and its constancy--enough to know that when I thread towards the river's edge there's always air around me, enough for every rise of my lungs, enough for me to live.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Are You Part Of Dumbledore's Army?



Jeff found this website where you can practice your wizarding skills...and we're DEFINITELY HOOKED...haha. We don't care if beat 10-year olds in this or them beating us...its just addicting!! haha. Stupefy! Protego! I LOOOVE IT!

Jhow and I watched the new Potter movie in IMAX and its so worth my $15 bucks. I like the movie...even though I loathe the book pieces. Book 5 is one tedious read without much story to advance the plot. The movie eliminated all those blahblah and created a good sequel to the Potter series. Jhow never read the book but liked the movie. Its THAT good. Plus the 3-D finale is AWESOME!! We bought tickets for the 9.30 AM screening. I thought it was all kids (yeah 90% of it) but there are adults as well. There's even two guys in their sixties wearing suits in our row. They have their briefcases with them: probably on their way to the office but opted to watch Harry before trading stocks. We even have this fairly adolescent group of HP fanatics rowmates sporting the lightning scar on their foreheads. WTF?! Pottermania is back!!

Part of Pottermania here in New York is a book launching party in Times Square on July 20 (which I am not planning to go). And...did you notice that Potter is in the cover of Details magazine this month? I dont like his shots in the feature article though. Too raunchy.

I couldnt believe why people are complaining that Harry had lost his magic. Well, I guess there's some universal truth in the Harry Potter series, which are:

1. Every one grows up. EVENTUALLY. Even I have to grow up and find a real job soon.
2. As you face the world, the story becomes darker and darker. Hell, if there's no darkness, how can you tell the bliss in finding the light. Sorry, I'm being Milton-ish here...but I find it true.
3. Magic never grows old. Merlin is a thousand years old but his magic never fails to bring back the kid in us. So does HP. I think even though Harry is some 64-year old actor doing Harry Potter 50, the magic on screen will never cease to enthrall me.

Ugh...on second thought...that's a lame idea. I won't be sitting on any HP movies past the 7th. And Harry too--he said so in the Details article. He wants to have a normal life. Just like the rest of us.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Lisa Rinna Should Go Back To Melrose Place

Horrible! Horrible!!!

There is a great pressure when you stage a musical such as Chicago since there's a film you have to struggle against. This production I watched, however, never rose to the challenge. They never bothered to challenge it even. Everything was so lame in this production, so bad that I wanted to leave the theater during the intermission break. They wrecked the piece! And I feel absolutely disgusted!

A show like Chicago should be treated with R-E-S-P-E-C-T. The plot is flawless, the book is excellent and the choreography (Bob Fosse fame) is a classic. Its a classic. I keep watching All That Jazz on youtube because it never fails to entertain me. I actually went to see Bob Fosse's choreography in this one (since the story is not much a surprise...I watched the film around...ummm...15 times). But they made a HUGE mess!!! *banging head on the table*

There are a lot of heavy set, insanely muscular dancers casted and I think they are awful on stage. Where are the graceful jazz dancer spines? the toned muscular backs of jazz dancers? Their bulk destroyed the form...which I value more than the rhinestones in Velma's shoes. And let's not talk about Velma and Roxie in this one. They are the most detached, most apathetic, dull actors I've watched in Broadway EVER.

So, I'll give this one NEGATIVE five stars. Watch and puke all over the floor.

Monday, June 25, 2007

So I'm Back To Do My Favorite Pasttime...Jobhunting.

I find my life so monotonous recently. It just revolves around unanswered application emails and trying to forget those. Trying to forget tools can be divided into 2 areas: meeting new people, hanging with old friends. Hanging out with friends is subdivided into 3 areas under it. Entertainment (watching movies, or broadway play), reading (trying to get one book past my book list) or alcohol (the one that makes you feel elated. so not isopropyl). And, for the past weeks, it has been more on alcohol and less on the last two. Gosh.

I could not even find time to write and for that matter, my neurons are taking much longer time to conjure words for a written piece of fucked up blog entry.

Anyway, I've been reading medical blogs since this morning and most of them are rants about the present medical care in the Philippines. Honestly, I've heard a lot of bullshit in the medical industry, hated the bureaucracy in PGH and facing private practice in a society where there is no working health insurance and therefore, no guarantees of being paid. So, I acted on it and went here to New York, passed every exam and decided to apply for any job in the medical field just to escape the sordid truth in the Philippine society. I was an escapee just like 1/2 of our class who decided to go to the land of milk and honey. So here I am, ready to start a life and be picked by an invisible hand to serve people I don't even know, or even, cared for.

Honestly, I miss my Filipino patients. I miss saying "Magandang umaga po. Ano pong ikukunsulta nila?" I miss waking my classmates in the middle of the night for a referral "Hey. My patient needs an ORIF, please do it for me...okay, thanks." And I miss helping Filipinos in need. Haay.

I miss eating with the nurses late in the night. And buying balot or siopao from the nearby food stalls.
I miss delivering babies and assisting in cesarian section while gossiping showbiz news.
I miss waking up in Boracay and greeting my first patient fresh from the bed.
I miss the house calls in Boracay and the excitement that you have to be on your toes for whatever consult they have.
I miss yosi breaks with the manongs and clerks in the hellish world of OsMun, usually after a code in the NICU and after a successful normal delivery (which sometimes scares the shit out of me. One word sends chills to my bones: dystocia)
I miss patients calling me up in the morning asking if it's ok to have cornflakes for her fluctuating blood sugar.
I miss reducing anterior shoulder dislocations in pedia patients (I've done this 3x in Boracay) and their look on you as if you're a superhero.
I miss eating with the NICU nurses and sneaking from the nursing supervisor since its forbidden to eat in the ICU. (But, we have the NA as look out.)
I miss saying "Oo wag kayong mag-alala. Kami po bahala sa anak nyo..."

I miss those simple things in my old life, and I'm pretty sure I'll never have them again.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Thank You For Leonardo Dreams Of His Flying Machine

Eric Whitacre is one of my favorite choral composer mainly for giving us profound and ethereal pieces like Leonardo and Cloudburst. I haven't sung these master works but I've heard it from recordings and from his CD. I swear, after hearing it, you want to go up to heaven and kiss God on the cheek thanking Him for His gift of music. And for giving us Eric Whitacre.

Next month, his play Paradise Lost will hold its premiere in Los Angeles. I hope God will send a special plane ticket so I could go and watch. I bet it will be magical. Here's a clip of Leonardo Dreams Of His Flying Machine...



It's hard core choral stuff and I guess not everyone will appreciate it. I very much like it. Its a breather from the Palestrinas and Laudrisen which sounds very old. This one sounds young, hip and well, magical. I like it. I first fell in love with Cloudburst and then I got hooked.

I miss singing...

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Here's a video clip from the play THE ROMANCE OF MAGNO RUBIO, which I love. Subconsiously, I feel like screaming to every pinoy here in NYC I can't believe you haven't watched this play!! It is freakingly amazing!!.


Saturday, June 09, 2007

I Think I Want To Work As A Writer Now...

I submitted a short review about the play The Romance of Magno Rubio to a US-based Pinoy newspaper. It was a spur of a moment thing, composed the crap in 30 minutes and typed it for 10. It's short and the whole story about this writing assignment will be in my next blog.

ROMANCE IN THE US SOIL (WHERE FILIPINOS TOIL)
Richmond J. Ramirez, MD

Setting afoot in New York City three months ago, I
watched a television plug of the play The Romance of
Magno Rubio. Surprisingly, it was riddled with a lot
of praises from the cynical, perfectly snubbish,
critics of New York. I always eyed the Broadway
musicals as my kind of theater but I knew, I would
eventually see this play. Together with my friends
Robert, Russell and Luise, we bought tickets for it
hoping to catch a drift of the Filipino heritage on
stage that was sweeping the Big Apple. Never did we
thought that we were close to have missed such a
brilliant theater piece.

The Ma-Yi Theater reminds me of the Wilfredo Ma.
Guerrero theater back in UP where I frequently watch
the works of Tony Mabesa, Floy Quintos and other
theater personalities that I have grown to admire
during my stay in the University. Surprisingly, 80%
of the attendance last night were consist of
non-Filipinos. The play's playbill then contained
glossary for Filipino words which I doubted for a moment
if the audience would appreciate the use of the
Filipino language in the play, especially in the singsong
parts.

Based from the work of the late Carlos Bulosan, it
tells the story of a Filipino migrant worker, named
Magno Rubio and his enigmatic love for an unseen American
woman from Arkansas. Bulosan, who himself was a
"manong", narrates the lives of the first generation
of 100,000 migrant Filipino laborers whom American
laborers hired to work in U.S. plantations. Their
lives provided the backdrop in which the love of Magno
Rubio blossomed in all its innocence.

The plot may sound cliche, but the script, actors and
direction on stage gave it lividity. Each of the
characters had their own strengths and the actors
played their part in a very impressive way. The
dialogue was interspersed wittingly with Tagalog,
which I think is conscientious of the rest of the
American audience. Complete with the singing, arnis
moves and clever Filipino humor, it was worth any
musical on broadway and better yet, we can call it our
own.

After watching the play and the constant battery of
the words "Filipino ako!", I felt a twinge of
nationalistic pride and nostalgia of being 20,000
miles away from home. Too bad, we were only four among
the few brown faces within the predominantly white
crowd. The Romance of Magno Rubio should have been
our celebration of the Filipino pride: that we are a
people who toiled the soil of foreign lands until our
backs ache, but has too rich a culture capable of
producing honorable works of art and most of all,
capable of loving in an almost insane, Filipino way.

Friday, June 08, 2007

It's 4AM...But, I SWEAR, Our Stupid Luck Made Us Walk In Brooklyn At This Time Of the Night...Er...Morning

It started out to be a good plan: Bring a few dollars enough for dinner. Dinner with Joseph. Go to Beej House for DVD ripping spree. Home. Little did I thought, that Beej wanted to go out and have drinks. We promised ourselves not to spend too much. $10 max.

But things lead to another: we had a drinks of $4 total, had great conversations with NFF, exchange numbers and then, left. It was a nice evening until The Fucking Series of Unfortunate Events: (take note, we're not even drunk!!)
BOOBOO NUMBER 1: We missed the G train because we were on the wrong side of the track. We're languishing in poverty, remember? This could've been a great plan.
BOOBOO NUMBER 2: Beej decides to get into a cab. My usual alcoholic self wants another plan: go to the bar, order another round of beers and come back to the subway after an hour. My buzz was wearing off so I thought it was a great idea. The cab isn't much of a stupid idea and could've worked under our budget until the freaking bridge in Brooklyn had to stop traffic and let a friggin' garbage barge passs through!!

We were like WHAT THE FUCK!! And we sat on the cab watching the meter tick to our very last cash. BOOBOO NUMBER 3: We paid and went out of the cab. Walking in disgrace to the sidewalks, we were howling with laughter with our humbling experience. We waited until the bridge closes the gap.
I was so amazed by our dumb luck last night, that I had to take pictures, blog it and store it in history. OHMYGOD, WE"RE SO BROKE THAT WE"RE WALKING IN JACKSON AVE AT 4 IN THE MORNING!!! I CANT FUCKIN' BELIEVE IT!! But it was really fun. Who would have thought that a PhD graduate and a MD is walking on the streets of Brooklyn and totally broke? Haha.
And finally we had to prove the time in pictures so we have this one. We're laughing like crazy for our misfortune and surely, all these will go down to the books. God, I have a fuckin' headache from lack of sleep but it's all worth it...

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Mon and Jeff: A Simple Pigout Life (A photoblog)

Sunday, June 3. Jeff is off the whole weekend. A perfect time to take pictures on the subway. Phew! What a touristy thing to do. Though, I don't care. Everyone is still asleep on this sunday morning to give us bullshit.
Woke up early. No coffee yet, snatching some sleep and trying to block sunlight in the subway. Big duh. Taken on the Q train to Brooklyn using Jeff's new camera.
A hemirib cage of a cow prepared by Harold. It was wonderful...tastes like Friday's ribs. They've been cooking "simple meals" like this since 8am in the morning. I think it's a med choir thing. I love going to Brooklyn.
There goes my diet! I've been living with Slim Fast Optima bars for the past week to slice the slab of fat off my waistline...well, not today. I guess I could party once in a while.
Sinful truffle cake for dessert. We spiced it up with strawberries for that Food Network touch. We could sit and watch Food Network all day.
The Ultimate Tag Team in Sleeping. Is there a World Federation of some kind for this sport? I'm sure we'll kick other contenders' butts.
Off to Brighton Beach for a change in scenery and immersion in Russia. Everyone here is Russian and old. But, a beach is a beach. Nothing beats the salty breeze.
Cheers!! Drinking tarragon and pear flavored soda in a Russian restaurant. The pear soda tastes like sago't gulaman, I swear. Perfect with the lamb kebabs.
I don't even want to count the calories we consumed that day. Going back in Manhattan means starving myself to disintegrate those fat cells. Although, I look forward to another weekend in Brooklyn. Or some other place next time.

The Wait Is Killing Me And I Better Hit The Books

I mean THE books (shown left). Not the Medical Books that I am detesting right now. I haven't read anything of THE books lately since I came here in New York. I was so amazed by my iPod's capability of storing movies, which, I could view anywhere, anytime. I saw a few good movies in that gadget for the past months. It saves me money from going to the movies here in the US and it really keeps me updated with the box office.

Let me run you through. The Patricia Cornwell books were scavenged from my friend in San Fo which she was ready to throw away. I never read any of these crime thrillers actually and I guess its cheaper to start on something free. Haha. I bought The Swimming Pool Library and The Farming of Bones yesterday from Strand. Martin and John was procured with a dollar from the local library. And then, the rest are Spanish learning books, which I have been trying to learn for the past 3 months. No progress. I'm a dumbass, can't you see? After all the espanol I've learned, I tried conversing with a guy from Argentina via Skype the other day. I ended up using freetranslation.com the whole time. I was cutting and pasting frantically during the whole conversation. Thank you technology. But, the purpose was defeated at will.

And the wait literally kills me. I've been emailing all the program directors in all the states, but, still no luck. I'm trying (like hell) to keep my hopes up. But then, I went through very rough times in my life and this is NOTHING compared to that one.

Well, I buy books when I'm sad. I still have a lot of backlog books at home--30-ish--so I guess, that speaks for the pits, abyss and nadirs I went into. Nevertheless, I really want to write when I get old. That's why I want to have copies of good books. I can go back to the good ones and pick the author's brains. The Patricia Cornwell books have to go, though. It's just not the kind of literature that I will be proud to have sitting on my bookcase. But, I don't know. I can give her a chance.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Current Events Is My Favorite Subject in Grade Five

That's when I used to read Time, Asiaweek and the newspaper because I don't want my dad's subscription go to waste. Now, here's the scoop:

1. I bought a laptop for $200. -Tada- amazing, right? It's Celeron M, though, with a 40G HD and a GB of RAM. It's 2 years old and has wireless. But then, how can you go wrong? Its just for emailing and chatting and blogging plus all the dumbass shit I've been doing to pass time. It will do till I have the power to purchase a Mac.

2. I swear, I'm going to lose those extra pounds. Yoga is getting my attention right now. I havent started jogging yet. It's stupid but I'm kinda waiting for my iPod armband I ordered in amazon for 5 bucks. My toes are crossed; hoping it's not a piece of junk.

3. I'd better start reading. I wont reach 300 books by forty if I'm this slow. Actually, I would love to start a library but I'll be going around a lot, so its not the brightest of all ideas.

4. I need a new phone case. I was crossing the street to the apartment and was talking over the phone. Suddenly, the face plate came loose and dropped in the middle of the intersection! I have to pick it up and in the process, I was almost run down by those crazy NYC cab drivers! I need to go to chinatown soon.

5. Learn Spanish...pronto. It's a MUST skill for physicians in the US. The more you learn spanish, the more chances of winning. I'm not leaving the race...uh-huh...its definitely ON.

There's no room for laziness and complacency when you're thirty.

Friends, Gifts and A New Haircut For My Birthday...I Couldn'd Ask For More

Being unemployed and broke in the city did not stop my friends in celebrating my third decade of life. I was planning to celebrate it in low-key, totally proverbial kind of partying but it was nothing like that. It was a week-long celebration...I was partying with a different set of friends all the time and it was just a bliss to have these amazing friends around me. They all know what I went through and they were keeping me extremely happy. I could've done these things for them, I swear, if everything worked out the first time I set foot in NYC and I think they know that. That's why they're going all out for me. That's how I felt, though. It might be right or wrong, but I don't really care.

MON: Karaoke with Jeff and SLR friends
TUES: (my bday night) dinner with Cindy and Alex (thanks), Therapy and B bar with Beej. (I was drunk, but not Boracay drunk.)
WED: rest day (hangover...)
THURS: Pot luck with SLR pinoy mafia and Harold (he's from SUNY) and Beej(CUNY/NYU)
FRI: night out at The Web with Omar, Joseph and Beej
Saturday: Spring Awakening with Jong, Cindy and Jeng. (Thanks for the tickets, Jongster!)
SUN: Manhattan tour for Jeng, afternoon picnic at Central Park (we won for most food brought amongst the picnic people...it was a knockoff! Godiva chocolates in the park?? Who can beat that/)

This part, I would want to thank my sponsors: Beej for the kare-kare (I love, so love, absolutely love it), Chari (for the pasta), Cinds (for...schucks, I forgot what she brought), Alex (for the stroganoff), Aggie (for the cupcakes), Cla (for the cake, Harold (for the seal liver pate-an inside joke) and Debbie (for shit, I forgot too). Thanks people! Love you to bits. Of course, I can never thank Jeff enough for having me in his apartment.

Thanks, Jeng for this. I know its pricey, man, you shouldn't have bothered but thanks, really. I actually asked her to buy this for me in Dubai since fragrances like this one is much cheaper there. She just gave it to me and kissed me happy birthday. Aww, so sweet. She's an angel.

My boo was happy too. He sports a new coat now courtesy of Joseph and Jeff Price. But I am keeping my puke green skin for the iPod which everyone think is hedious. One friend even lied to me and quipped Well, I said it was cute that you have it. Liar! You told me it was cute. But then, your kare-kare made me forgive you. *wink*

And I got a new haircut--which whipped 10 years from my current age. I'm not really into this prepubertal kid look but I guess saying goodbye to my locks for the summer is a good idea. Its becoming unruly and mufasa-ish sometimes and I had terrible pictures during my birthday. So, I wont be posting any of those pics here. I hate blackmail.

This has been another unforgettable birthday, just like the bdays I spent in Manila where everybody in ICON and close friends would troop to our suburban home in the middle of summer. When everyone would say: "Man, I saw cows on the road on my way here and thats when I know I'm on the right track. Happy birthday!"

Actually, I'm not sure of the I couldn't ask for more part. Materialism is one of my favorite virtues, along with vanity and pretention. A MacBook and a job will be oh so fine.

Memorial Day Was Spent Visiting My Childhood Memories...Not Veterans

Memorial day was sunny and everything nice. Carlos phoned me the night before and ask me if I would like to come and have a barbeque with his family in this upstate park in NY. I said yes cause Jeff will probably sleep the whole day after a night float. Anyway, we're supposed to go to Bear Mountain but one of our companions has a dog. Unfortunately, wild life is already threatened in that park, I assume, so we ended up spending the afternoon in FDR park, which is 40 miles north of their place in the Bronx.

Generally, it was a slow day. But slow is nice, after all the partying I did during my BIRTHWEEK. (No, my mother didn't bear down that long but celebration for the big 3-Oh lasted for a week. And...I was delivered via C-section. My mom didn't have Shakira hips.)We ate, slept, played Nintendo DS and had an hour stroll which really fired up a tan. I wasn't planning to get burnt and I didn't have the faintest idea that it would be fun playing dumb computer games again.

It was also Carlos' birthday! I remember when we were kids, he goes to my house for my birthday and after five days, I would go to his house for his birthday. We were young then. Once upon a time, our problem was mainly keeping ourselves busy while waiting for the high school freaks to fill up the school bus. We once bought a box of firecrackers and almost set the bus tires on fire. We got caught, but he was casted into the fire 'cause back then, he was the rowdy one and I am the goody-two-shoes, overachiever kid who would never do such a thing (so they thought). God, that was fun. Now he has a cute kid (Allyson) and a Subaru on turbo engine. Things stayed the same after two and a half decades from prep school: I have the world on my shoulders and he always had one thrill of a ride.

And now I wish it was the other way around.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

No, They Didn't Attend My Birthday Party But I Wish They Did

They're Jonathan and Lea from the first (take note) broadway musical I've seen since I got here. I've heard of Spring Awakening from my friends and it's been my wish to see this new musical from Duncan Sheik (my, he's so old now). Actually, my goal in going to the US is to look for a job and if all fails, watch this show. I never told my mom that, though. She might have fainted and cursed me to hell.

I'm happy that I got my wish three days after my birthday. It was a nice diversion after welcoming my big 3-Oh and realizing that I still live with my parent's subsidy. Gosh, that sucks. Getting student rush tickets didn't help that much, either. Getting a partial view of the stage really makes you suck your breath and sigh for all the things you can afford for now. (Operative word here is for now.)

So there, it was my birthday a week ago and I did celebrate for a week. I finished my exam before that that's why I had a lapse of inactivity in this site. The exam was so freaking hard. I literally want to strangle my friends who told me it was easy. Right now, I'm doing all those novenas and pray that my educated guesses really went to school. I need a deus ex machina and I hope its all in the works right now.

Okay, Spring Awakening: I had expectations...some were met, yes, but I think I wasn't ready for this kind of musical when I entered the Sullivan theater. Well, I just thought that it would be another musical like Wicked or Avenue Q in which the songs were made to tell the story. In Spring Awakening, its more like a Duncan Sheik album that was sang onstage and made a story fit for it. It was the other way around. I guess for me it wasn't a musical, but rather more like a concert play. I find Sheik's lyrics too flowery and too detached for a musical. There is generally a lot of abstraction in his lyrics which is, for me, hard to come from a play that supposed to tell a story or resolve a conflict. Neither it was conversational nor narrative. Also, the conflict was presented vaguely that I didn't have the urge to see Act two. Coming of age is not really a conflict, cause everyone goes through it, so I didn't really see the point. But that's just me and I sat through Act Two.

Put some sense on this, will you, and educate me:
O, I'm gonna be wounded.
O, I'm gonna be your wound.
O, I'm gonna bruise you.
O, you're gonna be my bruise.

This is supposed to be a romantic song but I can't...just can't get it. Is it because I read wound and bruise in a medical point of view? Or Duncan is too lame for a more sensible metaphor? That is where all the unmet expectations came from. All objections are overruled at this point, thank you, cause basically, this is my fucking blog. I doubt any major record label would like to release the song.

Anyway, it was filled with eye candy and butt exposure that is worth my dough. So I don't care about the content at all. (shrugs jokingly) The play has 11 tony nominations and I would like the guy who played Moritz to win. He sings The Bitch of Living and he's the most stable (vocally) among the cast.

It was a nice birthday and I have to tell the past week's events soon.



Sunday, May 06, 2007

MedChoir Past, Present and Future


It's a nice spring day in the city, thus, we all trooped to Brooklyn and went to the Sias' Flatbush apartment. I like the Flatbush neighborhood: the Jews, ghetto and decent-looking flats in one area. It's like having a patch of communities in a single area and its a Q train away from the city.

My caloric intake for this day was fulfilled in a single sitting, so to speak. We had liver pate for appetizers, pasta bolognese, a ref cake with nice chilled wine and a helping of Junior's cheesecake (the best in the planet...although Rico's baked cheesecake came a close second). Its fun because it's been a while since the last time I saw Pia and Harold. Jong even came...all the way from Rhode Island. Too bad, Leng was the only Y.O. (young ones) present. It was still fun to hang out with them. We were a bunch of altos and basses, so we didn't even tried a chord. But still, its nice to hang out with old and new friends.

We watched our old choir tour cds all day--that's how we missed each other. We whined most of the time for the aesthenic habitus we will never achieve again and the sound we have made back then. It was a rather nostalgic and restful afternoon. Perfect timing before I hit the books again tomorrow.

Friday, May 04, 2007

I Feel Guilty...I Am Watching Films And TV Too Much


I watched this last night and it was quite a scare. Its a cross between Dawn of the Dead and hmm...The Sixth Sense. The actors are Russian and I guess that fact added to the macabre. I highly recommend it.

Finally, my tagline for this blog is finally making sense. If you are watching heroes, it is making sense indeed. The final 4 episodes are on the run every monday and its making me pee in anticipation. The storyline is so good and I've never been hooked to TV before but this one is definitely making history.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Fabulous Places To Study In New York

I got fed up with studying at apartment and with watching the construction of the condo in front of the window so, it's time to explore New York City WHILE I study. Sounds like a really NERDY thing to do. There are advantages in studying outside: 1) people watching (which I give 1,000 points), 2) I can explore New York and 3) makes me lose weight (I don't want to spend money on food that much) So, yesterday, I went to the Bryant Park branch of the NY Public Library with Chari. I had good 6 hours of reading and took some pictures.


Right now, I am here in a friend's apartment in Long Island, a subway stop away from Grand Central. I did a good 150 questions on the internet review site and then took a stroll out to check out their local park. Gosh, it is such a nice park and the day is totally perfect today. I caught these snapshots:


Undeniably, it was a good view of Manhattan. The UN building was directly in front of the pier and I BET it is more fantastic during the evening. My friend really had a good deal with his apartment. This is just a study break so I have to go back to the books.

Hasta manana.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

A Hard-To-Put Down Movie Especially When You're Watching From Your iPod

I have this habit of watching a movie, or a part of it, on my iPod. With the state of my review right now and the dwindling amount of Step 3 information I have inside my head, I tend to restrict personal activities into: 1) watching American Idol, 2) doing yoga or any kind of exercise and 3)cleaning up the apartment. Last night, though, I tried to sleep while watching this movie. I ended up having some eye-shut at 3 in the morning.

Inspite of the not-so-inspiring review by the podcast Filmspotting, I still watched the movie, while I scratch my vertex and figuring out why the hell his supposedly-B-movie lasted three weeks in the box office. I must admit that Shia LaBeouf was one convincing 16-year-old. I can feel the agitation, the anxiety and the raging-hormones-portrayal of a neighborhood voyeur. And the yes, the B-movie plot moved on and revolved upon a serial killer neighbor. Big whoop. It's been sold, rented and remade in the movie industry but I guess the actors had to contribute in this one's success.

Now, I am really into Shia. Probably, I'll move on to watch his other indie films like Bobby and A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints...and I have to mention this: he is also in Transformers and the next Indiana Jones bound to be released next year. He's the "in" thing right now and you know how conformist I can get. *wink*