I'm sick. I think I got this illness last month. I am oblivious to stress in December and the wave is drifting its way to all the Mondays succeeding it. I have Monday syndrome. The drone of the weekends reverbs to my Monday rhythm and it pretty much put me to a constant state of procastination.
Its 11am and my mind is practically still under the sheets. I have been reminding myself since 9am this morning about the stuff I need to do, but, my body refuses to bulge an inch. Damn. Caffeine and nicotine don't seem to work. Endorphin should, but its too much effort to obtain. I need a quick fix.
Well, writing this should fire some neurons into work. I've been playing around with my iTunes and friends' site...and now m writing endlessly until I have the energy to lift my butt off this bed.
Ugh.
It has been like this every Monday and I guess its normal. I've been so lazy this past month that I just read one novel out of the 3-4 I promised myself earlier. My comments and book reviews are moved to my shelfari site: http://www.shelfari.com/monstermd. It's nice to have a virtual bookshelf. Being a closeted geek, I find inner enjoyment in skimming through the titles in my bookshelf. Haha--geek! But then, I found this site, where you can build your own bookshelf and make comments or notes on the books you've read...its awesome!!
Ok, I think this is enough. I am perked up. Have to get moving....
Monday, January 14, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Things I Will Never Do Again In the U.S.
Once is enough. I could say this to the items listed here, These are trips and gigs that I will never do again. EVER.
1. Waiting in line for Thanksgiving.
Just twenty percent discount?? After half an hour in the freezing weather?? C'mon, there must be a better deal than that in Circuit City! We were aiming for the $300 laptop but I guess the people who camped out for 24 hours for this will be the first ones hawk-eyeing that piece of bargain. Not to mention the 15+ people in front of us who froze their asses by standing in line for more than 30 minutes. Okay. Considering the cheapskate that I am, I might do this again, IF--the weather is fine. Let's see next year.
2. Cross country drive to California
I just couldnt stand to look at deserts, shrubs and roadsigns for more than 3 hours. The endless deserts of New Mexico and San Bernardino, CA just killed me. Westward drive is also a bad idea for the skin, too. The sun is directly is in front and yes, after driving through the desert for 4 hours does leave it mark: a burned tan from the level of the armpits down to the knees. Okay, Considering my outgoing nature, I would consider doing this again, IF--the drive starts from the West Coast and well above seventy years old of age because 1), my skin won't be any better and 2), time seems to be faster when youre past that age.
3. New Year in Time's Square
Not peeing for four hours due to the anticipation of a giant disco ball descends to signal the start of the year is not entirely how I wanted to do my New Year in the city ever since I agreed to do it in 2004 It was fun, though, because I went there with friends. Okay. This one is non-negotiable--never going to do it again.. Unless I come in a limo.
1. Waiting in line for Thanksgiving.
Just twenty percent discount?? After half an hour in the freezing weather?? C'mon, there must be a better deal than that in Circuit City! We were aiming for the $300 laptop but I guess the people who camped out for 24 hours for this will be the first ones hawk-eyeing that piece of bargain. Not to mention the 15+ people in front of us who froze their asses by standing in line for more than 30 minutes. Okay. Considering the cheapskate that I am, I might do this again, IF--the weather is fine. Let's see next year.
2. Cross country drive to California
I just couldnt stand to look at deserts, shrubs and roadsigns for more than 3 hours. The endless deserts of New Mexico and San Bernardino, CA just killed me. Westward drive is also a bad idea for the skin, too. The sun is directly is in front and yes, after driving through the desert for 4 hours does leave it mark: a burned tan from the level of the armpits down to the knees. Okay, Considering my outgoing nature, I would consider doing this again, IF--the drive starts from the West Coast and well above seventy years old of age because 1), my skin won't be any better and 2), time seems to be faster when youre past that age.
3. New Year in Time's Square
Not peeing for four hours due to the anticipation of a giant disco ball descends to signal the start of the year is not entirely how I wanted to do my New Year in the city ever since I agreed to do it in 2004 It was fun, though, because I went there with friends. Okay. This one is non-negotiable--never going to do it again.. Unless I come in a limo.
The First Two Weeks of This Year Has Been Crazy
So, its official. I signed it this week. But since a lot of issues have been raised after I finalized my decision, I can not completely say I did it. One last hurdle to make. One stress to conquer and then I would definitely say that I have a success story to tell.
The stress of it had been hovering over my head and haunting me during my afternoon naps (my nights are good) for the past few days and it IS stressing me out. I want to pull my hair in pieces until I am ultimately sure I am good to do home and process everything from there. During the last two weekdays of this week I've been constantly in the net and asking questions over the phone. Now, the weekend is coming to its end and its time to crunch the immig law websites.
But, everytime I see my brand new Western Digital 160GB portable hard drive, my worries seem to go away. I love it. I love.it. I love it. My friend A and M gave it to me for Christmas and I was in absolute shock when I got it. Honestly, I don't deserve it. I've been leeching pity and scraps of food from them (well, from a lot of friends) since I got here. I feel that I just don't deserve a holiday gift. Probably, the hapless state of being impoverished and the inability to reciprocate that would incline me to kneel and touch my forehead to the ground, repeatedly, while my palms outstretched and lips continuously chanting "I'm not worthy...I'm not worthy..." until I pass out, a good sign of limitless gratitude to these people.
It's black. It's sleek. It weighs less than my Adidas chronograph watch (which I got for $15 on Thanksgiving). He's the love of my life right now. Well, I hope iPod won't be jealous. I had her for almost 3 years now. The scratches and bruises are witness to the sand, cement and stone we have kept together. Although, her battery is running a little weak, she's still fine. And now, I have a new baby...he makes me cry.
Now, I can take home all the MedStudy CDs with me back home. Ehem..m such a freaking geek. I guess that's what I am turning out to be. Well, not to mention the loads of porn. But, honestly, I am thinking now of deleting it. It may be inviting bad karma and it would kill me if I just find it dead after loading it with so much of it.
More to come in this exciting year!
The stress of it had been hovering over my head and haunting me during my afternoon naps (my nights are good) for the past few days and it IS stressing me out. I want to pull my hair in pieces until I am ultimately sure I am good to do home and process everything from there. During the last two weekdays of this week I've been constantly in the net and asking questions over the phone. Now, the weekend is coming to its end and its time to crunch the immig law websites.
But, everytime I see my brand new Western Digital 160GB portable hard drive, my worries seem to go away. I love it. I love.it. I love it. My friend A and M gave it to me for Christmas and I was in absolute shock when I got it. Honestly, I don't deserve it. I've been leeching pity and scraps of food from them (well, from a lot of friends) since I got here. I feel that I just don't deserve a holiday gift. Probably, the hapless state of being impoverished and the inability to reciprocate that would incline me to kneel and touch my forehead to the ground, repeatedly, while my palms outstretched and lips continuously chanting "I'm not worthy...I'm not worthy..." until I pass out, a good sign of limitless gratitude to these people.
It's black. It's sleek. It weighs less than my Adidas chronograph watch (which I got for $15 on Thanksgiving). He's the love of my life right now. Well, I hope iPod won't be jealous. I had her for almost 3 years now. The scratches and bruises are witness to the sand, cement and stone we have kept together. Although, her battery is running a little weak, she's still fine. And now, I have a new baby...he makes me cry.
Now, I can take home all the MedStudy CDs with me back home. Ehem..m such a freaking geek. I guess that's what I am turning out to be. Well, not to mention the loads of porn. But, honestly, I am thinking now of deleting it. It may be inviting bad karma and it would kill me if I just find it dead after loading it with so much of it.
More to come in this exciting year!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
New Year's Events: A Picture Blog
HAHAHAHA. I was like this when a few minutes past midnight when I went to my friend's after-midnight-party. I didn't realize that I had so much that night. I had 2 glasses of wine, 2 shots of vodka, a screwdriver and 2 shots of tequila (omg, that was good). I haven't drank since I got back from PA, so I guess my liver isn't that pumped up to process the poison. But, I am glad that I was still decent. In fact, I don't have the strength to remove my wool sweater. And, I struggled like hell in order not to puke on it in the bathroom (dry cleaners are expensive).
Honestly, I pondered on posting this for some minutes before deciding to make a complete fool of myself. But believe me, this isn't the worst.
The next day, I woke up, unbelievably, at 7AM, with a killer headache and the sun shining on my face. The room was swirling around me, and I needed to sober up. I made coffee, drank a few glasses of water and played Bach on my iPod. I downed 2 cups and brought a jug of water with me on the recliner. I was sitting on the recliner for 2 hours, staring at the sealing and feeling the chord progressions of Bach's Goldberg variations. My mind and body wants to sleep but the caffeine was keeping me awake! I decided to take an Excedrin for my headache and the additional caffeine is just enough to keep me awake the next day. Haha. Next, I tried having a warm shower (didn't work--but I was clean!), I drank some more water (made me puke) and the only solution is to drink a little more alcohol. I had two gulps of beer and it made me feel a lot better.
It was a great way to start the year. I felt like waking up from a long sleep; though it came with a headache and hangover. But alas, this is the new me.
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.
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...
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.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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...
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?
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?
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