Luke

Still at the Sari-sari fashion show. A leaner Luke than his present cosmo centerfold/bench poster structure . Either way he is hotness personified. Just don't ask me his age. He's a jailbait to me.

mannequin

This time it's not Luke. That's the equally drop dead gorgeous Carlo Adorador with Ai and I. He was also part of the sari-sari fashion show. That time I couldn't tell him from Luke Jickain, I thought I was seeing double. Two years later, he became my friend and I got to be his matchmaker. *coughs* (hehe! hi, gail) The rest is history. I was hoping I could catch him in the Bench fashion show special but I didn't. He's one of the most humble models you'll ever meet. Things are looking up for him as well. He nixes offers to join showbiz coz as he puts it:"gagawin lang nila akong boldstar" which is a good thing (uh, the turning down of offers, not the idea of him as a boldstar). His looks are too glamorous for showbiz, anyway.

Tough Choices

Mama Fe is the one to my right, trying to distort my poise

Another friend is quitting residency. First it was me, then Isobelle, now it's Mama Fe (no she's not my mother and neither does she look like a mother, that's just the way we call her coz she nags like one). She's an incoming 3rd year surgery resident at VRPMC.Three months ago, this was the email she sent me when she learned I was quitting:

Gracie,
Girl as much as I want to ask the many whys and whatabouts its your decision and I respect you for that. One thing that I admire of you is that you really mean what you say and stand for your decision. You`ve always been very vocal on what you want in life. No pressure, no stress but something worth learning and living.I guess we are all individuals looking for a place in our chosen fields.Hope you`re happy and enjoy your next journey.I think you were a journalist in your past life. I did not cry but girl I was also like that when I first started residency but I guess the difference is that I chose the field very close to my heart that no matter what people say behind my back I had to move on and accept the challenge not to prove to them that I can surpass it and please them but to please myself. Go girl you know that we, your friends, will always be behind you.See you soon!!!!
Mama Fe

A few days ago, she texted me and announced that she was quitting. I didn't believe her. I knew how much she wanted to be a surgeon. She's setting her sights on Australia or London. Today she sent me this email.

Girl, You`re probably surprised why I texted you and that I`ve decided on quitting when in fact I just wrote you barely 2 or 3 months ago that I have found my own place amidst the egoistic male world. Needless to say that I just happened to wake up one morning feeling empty and needing some soul-searching.Surprised that of all people why me? Wala lang just got tired of caring and giving.... and taking chances....hay hirap!!!

Mama, Like I told you in the email, if there's anyone who could understand what you're going through, that would have to be me. Mahirap talagang magpaka-bayani. They say give til it hurts. It hurt and so I went. Whatever you decide on, I'll be supportive of it. I'll be back in Manila next month. See you.
______________________________________________
My horoscope for tomorrow:
Have you got an older sibling or maybe even a parent that you can confide in? Right now you need that home court stability to use as a sounding board for your romantic concerns.

geez.. i never burdened my family on my romantic concerns. will mama fe or ate elaine do? when making crooked decisions, you never blame it on the stars.

Lines

"If you love someone set him free if he comes back slam the door and say "f*** YOU"!!! you had your chance... "

nice one. really nice one. sometimes i wish i were bitchy enough to deliver these kinds of lines. a nice girl's version of this one would be:

"If you love someone set him free if he comes back say hi and ask do i know you?"

Headbangers

Friends are there to bang your head on the wall when you're about to make a stupid mistake in your life. Elaine just did that to me, for the nth time. Her words are reverberating in my head up to this moment. You had a point, Laine. I cannot argue with that. Thanks for reminding me. I didn't know I 'd reach this point where I'm the one receiving the sermons.

Ai, the owner of the head that I used to bang has evolved and adapted by growing a fixed, sturdy helmet atop her head. I don't want to reach that extreme. I'm not as strong as Ai who could stand by her decisions, nor am I wicked enough like her to grow helmets.

The Fantabulous Four

Make tusok-tusok the vein

I just started my Radiology pre-residency at the hospital where I spent my senior clerkship. Memories of humiliation, never-ending tasks, sleepless nights, studying and friendships formed altogether flashed back. One lunch break I decided to eat at the carenderia outside where my groupmates and I used to eat.

It didn’t matter that no one was left to man the wards, Jessa, Jay, Elaine and I always wanted to stick together. We would all be sitting on the bench outside, facing the store’s interiors. We ordered a liter of coke which we made sure was divided equally among the four of us. We lined up our glasses and poured the coke in equal amounts. That was our version of tagay. We were mean kanto kids. While eating we were swapping hilarious stories and throwing insults at one another. Among all the groups in our class, ours was the most bonded. Blame that on our insult sessions, which were actually our bonding moments. I have mastered the art of pang-aasar through these people. Jay was the most brutal, with frequent attacks on our single status. Jessa would retort with her sharpest wits and put Jay to shame. Elaine and I were on more neutral grounds but were nonetheless armed with one-liners when attacked. As if my laughter wasn’t offensive enough. Sure, we were bordering on barbaric but we knew when to stop. I am basically pikon but these folks weren’t mean enough to stimulate my tear ducts.


clowning around at the surgery ward

At times we occupied the 4 beds in the clerks’quarters and just laid there exchanging more stories. When feeling rebellious, we would all be out watching a movie even when one is supposedly on duty. We never got caught anyway. Don’t get me wrong, we all worked our asses off and maintained a strong sense of responsibility despite our misadventures. Among the four of us, I was the black sheep. Not that I was bad, they just happened to be workaholics. Jay was our driver who displayed violent tendencies in one instance when he couldn’t get rid of us and wanted to be alone with our other classmate. We were at the backseat of the car while Jay’s dream girl sat at the front. He couldn’t escape the frequent teasings from us. He was obviously getting annoyed. They were supposed to go on a date but since he still had to drop each of us home, the date had to be cancelled and that pissed him off. After dropping off the love of his life, he started driving recklessly that scared the life out of the 3 of us. Finally, that shut us up. Elaine got off with me at the apartment, we were both shaking out of fear. Jessa, where the most hecklings came from, managed to get home alive.


In our barrio-tic get-ups

At our community immersion, we passed time by playing cards. Loser gets to choose between truth or consequence. We always chose truth anyway. Our deepest, darkest secrets were spilled. From the most trivial to the most profound questions, we took turns in answering them. From the wholesome to the R-rated topics, we tackled them. In the middle of our immersion, we broke the rules again and went down from the mountains to our respective homes. When you’re staying at the rural areas for 10 days how can you not miss your own comfort room? We took the single motorcycle (habal-habal), the mode of transport in our area. Jessa, Elaine and I stacked behind driver while Jay was at the front part of the motorcycle, he sat sideways, looking demure than the rest of us. We looked absolutely ridiculous and couldn’t stop laughing at ourselves. Before dark, we returned to our site and took two separate motorcycles.


we made it through the rain

Since community medicine was our last rotation, when graduation came, were were darker than most of our classmates. It was more noticeable during our graduation ball. Donning our ball gowns, our tanned lines showed, but not the sexy ones you get from sun-tanning in swim suits. Ours were hideous shirt lines that were revealed through our sleeveless gowns.

Fast forward to the future and there was I, having lunch alone at our favorite carenderia. Suddenly I was melancholic. I missed my groupmates. The laughters and ridicules that once filled the area were gone. From the greasy, harassed-looking clerk to the fully-made up pre-resident, I returned to the place with people glancing oddly at me, probably wondering why I chose to eat there. I ordered my favorite dish, the halang-halang. While finishing my lunch, I wondered what’s up with my friends. Jay is an incoming 3rd year surgery resident at East Avenue General Hospital. Jessa is entering 3rd year as well, as a pediatrics resident at PGH. Elaine is earning big bucks as a nurse in the states. She’s getting her own CRV in a few days time. She would also be reviewing for the US-MLE. Meanwhile, I am a bum who quit IM residency who wants a chance at Radiology, currently mending a self-inflicted non-healing wounded heart which at this time should be gangrenous.

Everybody has moved on, we’ve all grown up and are continuously gaining wisdom through the years. Heck, I’m only in my late 20’s, yet all of a sudden I feel like I’m on the twilight zone of my life.

trigger-happy

While having coffee last night, Pips unconsciously chose a strategically- located table with cute guys to my left, with only the glass window separating them from us. Very crafty, this Pipay.

Quote of the week

"I smiled to many people for more than a billion times, but when I first saw you, my heart took over and smiled for the first time"

swell. got this quote from one of Loi's thought-provoking posts. these words seem to be missing in the sentence: "...since yesterday" or "...since 10 minutes ago".

players are everywhere. don't be a willing victim.

Fallen

We spent the whole day at the beach (tree)house yesterday for my brother's birthday. Just when we were packing things up to go home by 8PM, tragedy struck. A coconut fell from the tree and smashed into my dad's front mirror, right across the drivers' seat. Thank goodness it wasn't my car or more importantly, it didn't fall into anyone's head. To think that I've been walking back and forth near the area just before it happened. If it were a cartoon, the impact was just too hard I would've been nailed straight to the underground had it fallen on my head. But this was real life, it would've been a resounding GCS 3, or worse, DOA misfortune. It would be great to meet Rico Yan while our age difference isn't that huge but I never dreamt of a death by the coconut. Such an unglamorous way to die.


That's not spiderman's cobweb, just the broken fragments of glass holding on

Since my dad can't drive his car, I'm the one left with nothing to drive. He's gonna use my car temporarily. Technically speaking, that's still his car. I'm back to being the dependent daughter/sister who cannot get around town without her dad or kuya driving for her. I will miss my car and the legolas doll inside it but this is just for the meantime. We're still lucky nobody got hurt with that darn flying coconut.

with the supermodels

Sharon and I, hanging out with hunks/models Karl and Carlo.

halo night

From Conservatory to Temple to Halo, finally we called it a night.. or make that a dawn. The sun has risen by the time we got home. Of course, it has been an extra- memorable night-out for two people i know.

photo appears courtesy of Barbiegail's pbase album

mahangin sa loob

In one of the churches we visited a week before the boards. You could see the tension in everyone's eyes. It was a good day to pose, nonetheless.

drunken eyes

The last day at fairview sealed with a drinking session with our slu buds. That's the alcohol speaking behind that sly smile and droopy eyes, but no amount of liquor can stop me from posing for the camera.

Search me not

Friendster has this new feature in which they put popular searches in each user's network, look what I found in Elaine' network:

1.new hair styles
2.william hung death
3.free ringtones
4.video chat
5.mai-mai cojuangco wedding
6.filipina boldstars
7.mEDICAL RESEARCH
8.donita rose wedding
9.kantot
10.your name in chinese

err..why on earth did they associate you with filipina boldstars laine? didn't know you were shifting professions.

and guess what popped out in my network:

1.burberry handbags
2.louis vuitton
3.find a boyfriend
4.remote desktop
5.quit smoking
6.burberry
7.cd business cards
8.yoga mats
9.plasma tv
10.gucci wallet

go ahead, laugh all you want. everyone, including friendster, seems to be worried on my status. oh please, give me a break!

Fashion Icon

Gwyneth Paltrow. My favorite fashion icon who exudes class in such effortless manner. She's the type most women would love to hate- for having it all, the knock-out looks, the gorgeous guys, the lucrative career, the award-winning talent, the impeccable sense of style, and lately, the adorable baby (which at this point is not a source of envy to me, not just yet anyway).

The Notebook

I watched this movie before going to sleep and woke up with puffy eyes. Hell, I kept reminding myself a great love story like this happens only in the movies and novels.. but then I remember my old patient whose spouse never left his side til the day he died. Ugh! Like a dagger through the heart, it almost tore me apart. Makes you want to believe in love. Gripping.

Little Granny

My niece Chinchin who talks like a grown-up. Once, when I was parading on a super short skirt, this little granny warned me: "Tita Grace, you should use some cover, boys might run after you". On my thought bubble: "hmm...that's the idea, chin" but of course I didn't tell her that. Up to now, I never got to wear that skirt in public. Behave, Tita Grace, behave.

Woman of Grace

Winnie Qian. Would you believe this woman is already in her early thirties? Well, it doesn't show. I certainly would want to look this gorgeous when i hit 30, which is not too long from now by the way.

Sickly

Without make-up, I look every inch the ICU patient next cubicle. Make-ups are God's greatest gift to women. You can quote me on this one.

Boy Toy

That's my Legolas doll on the left. Hmm.. I'm still waiting for the day he turns into the guy on the right. Hah! Dream on.

UNAFFECTED

Affected? Not me.

I can say the mushiest things in writing. I can strike a chord in people, fill their eyes with tears with what I write to them and for them. I express my appreciation and get emotional through the written art. In person, you don’t see any of that softie in me. You can never squeeze any drop of compassion from me. I am a cold hearted self-absorbed paranoid who cringes at the slightest display of emotions (not necessarily an accurate description, but that’s what people see in me.)

I hate goodbyes. When my friend Elaine was heading for the States, I knew she was still at her home packing things but instead of calling her, I just texted her, “have a safe trip”. I knew if I called her we will both be crying over the phone. I was losing my own “Ate Helen” who was just a phone call away whenever someone broke my heart. When Isobelle was about to leave for Cebu, she dropped by the hospital where I was on duty. That might have been our last time to see each other for the next three years but instead of wishing her well, I just blurted out, “I’ll stay in your place when I visit Cebu”. There went the last person who I could talk to for long hours over the phone, blabbing just about anything. When another friend Edshil and I were finishing our charts at the records room, we realized how we were both trying to put an unaffected front when we said our goodbyes in the most casual way to our residents minutes earlier. Those were not just our residents, those were also our friends who didn’t treat us like a lower form of animal as interns. Teary eyed and all, Edshil and I ended up laughing at ourselves. I cannot show people how much I will be missing them.

I have trouble saying thank you’s openly, most especially when it’s for something really touching. When Sharon and Betty helped me with my last minute clearance signing when I was running late for my flight, I never got to tell them how I appreciated their help. Before the plane took off, I texted them, “thanks”. When Valora and Edshil went out of their way stitching my oversized skirt at Sarah’s wedding, I never mentioned anything about it at that moment. I wrote my gratitude, instead through my friendster testimonials for them.

Saying sorry remains to be one of the hardest things I could say. When I was having mood swings (read: topak) during our community immersion, I never spoke to my groupmates on our way home. When I got to the house, I texted them, “sorry, I was such a brat”. Being the understanding groupmates that they were, they accepted my apology.

When I declared myself heartbroken over some guy not so long ago, not only was I self-loathing, I was saying the corniest lines which I don't normally utter unless I were diabolically-possessed. Eva, a nurse from COMC who's also a dear friend, has this to say, "doc, I feel bad with how you are feeling but you know what, I'm actually glad to know your heart isn't made of stone after all".

There are just words you won’t hear from me. This may explain the bottled up emotions inside me. I could never bring myself to say them out loud. At most, I could only say them through texting or friendster testimonials, or even through this blog, but never out loud. Somewhere when no one is looking, when I no longer have to fight off the tears from falling, I whisper those words I’ve been longing to say when nobody could hear it. Somehow, I will find a way to let them know how I really feel. I hope it won’t be too late before I muster enough courage to say these words up front. Until then, I’m just another arrogant, cold being who cannot be human enough to express her emotions to your face.

Got to Believe

In connection to my post on Rico Yan, I got hold of my "Got to Believe" vcd which has been gathering dust along my other vcds. I watched the movie all over again. I still laughed at Vhong Navarro's punch lines, fell in love with Rico Yan and got thrilled at each kilig moment the way I watched it the first time. However, the love-stricken dialogues hit me like it never did before. It must be the battered heart I accorded myself lately.What can I say? This movie has got to be my favorite local movie of all time. I could almost swear it was made for me. Claudine Barretto may not exactly be my favorite person/celebrity but I applaud this girl's acting prowess, so effective even in a light drama/comedy like this particular movie. Yeah, call me baduy or jologs, but these are some memorable lines from the movie:

"Mr. Perfect may not necessarily be Mr. Right"

"Di ko alam ano'ng mas mahirap. Pag-aralang mahalin ang taong nagmamahal sa'yo o ang umasang mamahalin ka rin ng taong mahal mo"*

(I don't know which is harder. Learning to love the one who loves you or hoping for the person you love to love you back")

"You never say sorry for loving someone. You never say sorry for loving me."
________________
*ouch, bull's eye!

Will You Wait For Me in Heaven?

Ricardo Carlos Yan (March 14,1975-March 28,2002). I was a closet fan of Rico Yan. I had a crush on this guy the first time I laid eyes on him at the Martin Nievera talk show. He was still a commercial model back then. What a guy, I told myself. When he joined showbiz, I couldn’t bring myself to admit I was a fan. Claudine Barretto and Judy Ann Santos were the luckiest girls alive and I hated them. I didn’t want anyone telling me I was jologs. I secretly watched his TV shows and movies. Only my closest buds knew how much I adored Rico Yan that I proclaimed him my soulmate. He was everything I wanted in a guy- smart, articulate, educated, values-oriented, gorgeous, kind-hearted, just my age and the only crush I knew whose zodiac sign was compatible to mine. Well everything, except that he was famous and he never knew I existed. My mom told me if I were a boy, I would’ve looked like him. He could’ve been your son-in-law, mom.

The day he died, I was on 24 hrs duty as an intern. The elevator girl broke the news to us. At first I thought it was some cheap showbiz crap. After a while, the news got around the hospital then I saw it on tv. The guy I pined for all those years was a cold cadaver transported through the helicopter from Palawan. I was dumbfounded. God. What happened to my so-called-soulmate? I grabbed my phone and called (note, called, not texted) my mom, “Ma, Rico Yan is dead”. I went back to duty like nothing happened. I was still hoping it was a big joke. The next day, that was when I realized how affected I was. I wept while watching the news on tv.

A few weeks before he died, I remember watching his last flick “Got to Believe” twice. Yes twice, at Glorietta, with different sets of friends. I could never get enough of the movie. Not only was Rico acting in it, the story itself was something I could very well relate to. Don’t ask me what it was about. Go figure. In fact, I bought a vcd of it months later. I could not come to terms with the fact that the bubbly guy so full of life was lying lifeless at the La Salle Greenhills Chapel. Come to think of it, I was staying in Mandaluyong at that time, in such close proximity to where they had his wake. My co-intern Sharon Arenas was dragging me to come visit him. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to line up among the thousands of fans who wanted to see him in his coffin. I didn’t want to be confronted not just with the fact that my soulmate was gone, but more importantly, the truth that he wasn’t really my soulmate, that I was just one of the fans who adored him from afar.

When he was to be buried, they passed in front of our hospital. I went out and caught a last glimpse of him, inside the car that carried him in his coffin. I got teary eyed watching him pass me by. A week after, I visited his grave. Oh,yes I did. He was my screensaver, much to the horror of anyone who opened my pc. During my boards review, his picture was beside my study table, which my classmates found eerie. Well, at least I passed the exams. He was the only dead person whose picture I never got scared of staring at. Months after his death when I was still talking to my friends about him, Sarah has this to say “Grace, pwede ba, ang buong Pilipinas naka-let go na kay Rico Yan, Ikaw na lang ang hindi pa!” So why am I writing this? All Souls Day just passed and he was definitely one of those souls that I remembered. I was thinking, he died when he was just 27. If ever I finally meet him in the afterlife, I will be older than him. Bummer.

For The Love of Blog

My good friend and blogmate, Dylan, texted me one day and said, “I’ve been reading your blogs. You ‘re always broken hearted man uy”. I replied, “precisely why I got into blogging, I needed an outlet to pour all out my pains.” Actually, it was my friend Gail who influenced me into this online journal thing. She started her own when she was nursing a broken heart which I felt I was partly accountable for ( I introduced her to the culprit, hence after their break up I vowed to retire as a matchmaker). She gave me the password to her blog, in which most entries were in private, so I was updated on how her heart was healing. I was emailing my friends, including Gail, my own sad stories when I decided I could keep them all posted by having an online journal myself, which turned out to be a really good idea.

Blogging is like talking to a wall when no one is there to talk to. In my case where I’m cities and oceans apart from most of my friends at this time, it was surely the answer to keeping my sanity intact. Even if we wanted to be there for one another, it just wasn’t possible, considering the demands of our jobs. Some friends had their own families too, so bothering them with my own problems was a selfish thing for me to do. Blogging provided the mental and emotional catharsis that I needed for my sentiments that has long built up inside me. I never really cared if no one will ever read my entries after all. As long as I got to unload my emotional burdens, it was therapeutic enough for me.

Having someone place a comment was an added bonus. In my xanga where even strangers would be supportive of me and leave inspiring comments, it made me feel that I wasn’t alone after all. These people who didn’t know me were actually cheering me on and wishing me luck . How nice of them. These were the earth angels that God sent to keep me going even through the rocky patch in my journey.

I articulate my thoughts more through writing than speaking. In person, I easily clam up and fail to get my message across. I move people better through writing. During fourth year high school, I wrote for the school paper after I got bored acting for the dramatics club for three years. My opinions also made it to some of the top newspapers and magazines. Needless to say, I was a frustrated writer. I never got to sharpen my skills. I’m no Carrie Bradshaw, but blogging made me live out my fantasies of having my own column, with or without readers.

Of all the good things it has brought me, some people would point though that blogging is nothing but a narcissistic venture. What the heck, I’m a self-confessed narcissistic anyway. What works for some may not work for others. Well, this thing definitely works for me. Thank God for blogging, it gets me in touch with my friends and can actually save me the trip to the loony bin.

Broken Dreams

For somebody burning with ambition throughout her youth, it’s disappointing to realize that at 28, I am not living my dreams. Aware of the fact that I should consider myself blessed for having achieved something that many people would painstakingly struggle for- my medical career, which I, myself earned with blood, sweat and tears, I am shamed to admit that I may not have enough zest to sustain such feat .

Unlike most peers who grew up wanting to be doctors, I on the other hand, never asked for a healing hand. Nevertheless, I was gifted to have one. By the time I was on my senior year in high school, I was more than ecstatic of the thought of getting into college to study multimedia arts/visual arts or something along that line. I’ve always been drawn to the arts. When my creative mind is at work, it gives me the natural high. When I wanted something, I worked with passion to achieve it. My drive in anything I wanted defied all the limits I set to myself.

Fate, however had other plans. I ended up stuck in my city that didn’t offer the course that I had in mind. The closest one, development communications, didn’t come as close as I wanted so I settled for BS Biology, the course so-not-for-me yet for some reason I chose it anyway, I guess for the challenge of threading unfamiliar waters.Towards the end, I realized there was not much in store for me unless I went to medical school. Hungry for more challenge, I went for it. Healing, after all was an art in itself that I could learn to master.

There was no road bumpier than the path I had to take in medical school. I learned how to pray- hard. I asked God for enlightenment. With the mortality rate in my school running notoriously high, I am still amazed at how I managed to come out of it alive. It was God’s answer to my questions. He made me survive amidst the adversities that under normal circumstances I wouldn’t surpass, because He had plans for me in the medical area. I dutifully obeyed my calling and vowed to be the kind of doctor that this world needs- compassionate, hard-working and competent, a role which in this part of the world plagued with poverty, is not easy to play.

It seems every time I went for a dream, it eluded me. I wanted a career in dermatology but I was never given the chance to it. After 2 yrs of going after that dream, finally I gave in and settled for a specialty that welcomed me with open arms- Internal Medicine. After 2 months and a week at the department that saw my worth, I decided that it wasn’t just for me. Presently, I am going for Radiology which isn’t very receptive to my interest and doubts my staying power just because I quit Internal Medicine. Add to that the fact that they prefer a male applicant because apparently, female residents spend most of their time taking a maternity leave. My being a spinster (ouch, I hate that word) doesn’t help. Perhaps it would make a difference if I undergo bilateral tubal ligation just to prove that I don’t have intentions of getting married or getting pregnant at any point in my life.

I honestly don’t know where I’m headed anymore. My life is in a limbo. This was not the life that I pictured 10 years ago. I’ve always thought that I would be a driven, career-oriented woman who excelled in her chosen field. Apparently, my chosen field is a preparation to martyrdom which I’m not sure I could handle. I resent the fact that I have invested so much effort into getting to where I am now yet I find myself at a dead end which I don’t know how to escape from. I just wanted a career that I would be happy with, without having to walk through fire all the time. Unfortunately, medicine is anything but that. It seems we take away others’ pains by absorbing them.

My pessimistic self has taken over. I feel sorry for myself for feeling this way and for my readers for spreading an unhealthy air of pessimism. I am undoubtedly, at the lowest point in my life. I am shamed that I may not be able to fulfill my promise to God. At 28, I refuse to succumb to defeat, to declare myself a failure, a person with with broken dreams. With how things are looking, I’m afraid I’m heading towards that direction. Whatever happened to the dreamer in me? When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a lost soul with a lost purpose.

Quotable Friends

"foget him, please. have mercy on yourself"

-from elaine to me. hahaha! guess i'm a little masochistic. i thrive on pain. don't worry, laine. i'm working on it. with a little more time i'll be singing "i remember the boy, but i don't remember the feeling anymore" ....heehee!

"to hell with boys"


-sharon's words whenever guys mess with her head. i have co-authored this line with her. now that she's happily in love again, that leaves the line all to myself. i shall stand by it.

"ladies, this song goes to the three of us"

- jessa 's intro when she was about to sing "we're all alone" on videoke one lazy afternoon with elaine and me, all of us single. jessa's among those friends with the best sense of humor.

The Hardest Things In Love

lifted this post from the blog of Loi, a co-xangan and kikay sister... the lines in bold fonts struck me the most... then again, the hardest thing about love is believing it does exists

1. Flashing your smile to someone you don't want to see.
2. Bringing back the feeling you've learned to forget.
3. Showing that you care.
4. Finding a way to mend a broken heart.
5. Learning that you've been used by someone you truly love.
6. Saying 'i love you' when you mean it and when you don't.
7. Letting go of a person you've just learned to love.
8. Realizing that you love somebody you've just taken for granted.
9. Realizing that you love the person you've just broken up with.
10. Waiting for promises you know he/she will never keep.
11. Saying your love for someone who loves somebody else.
12. reminscing the good times you shared together.
13. Shielding your heart to love somebody.
14. Trying to hide what you really feel.
15. Having a commitment with someone that you know would not last.
16. Trying to hide the tears that involuntarily fall from your eyes.
17. Sharing the one you love with someone else.
18. Loving a person too much.
19. Giving up someone you never thought of giving up.
20. Falling inlove for the first time.
21. Loving someone you haven't seen.
22. Having the right love at the wrong time
.23. Exerting effort to make the relationship last or work.
24. Not being appreciated when you know you've given your best.
25. Taking the risk to fall in love again.
26. Hiding your relationship from someone else.
27. Controlling your feelings to avoid hurting a friend.
28. Choosing between 2 persons whom you really love.
29. Finding out that you can never have the person you just let go of back.
30. Seeing the person you love with someone else.

Loving involves two phases.The first intuitive one is loving the person because of who he/she is. The second nobler one is loving the person despite of who he/she is not. The first one sparks love, the second one makes it last.

Quote of the Week

"Do you know what could be more disturbing than people asking you why you are single? People telling you why you are single."
--Karenina Yaptinchay

Jump

Happy pictures like this make my day.Larry's expression totally cracked me up. Now you get the idea how much I enjoyed my internship. With these people as co-interns, you just don't spend any dull moment.I took this photo, so don't look for me among the jumping loonies :).

Pine Trees

This pic was taken a few minutes before the storm came and got us running like kids for cover.

Kikay Sisters

The girls of Kikay Sisterhood on a night out at Conservatory. This is the group where you meet girls with passion for beauty, fashion and more. Vanity at its finest. Gail started it all.

Bigby's

Tess, Me and Isobelle with her little angel, Bea. Bea, my godchild is a miracle baby. She survived stage III of dengue hemorrhagic fever when she was barely a year old. Prayers do work wonders, really.

Malou's wedding

Doc Connie, Tading, Elaine, Me and Cherry. My COMC ER friends. When Malou, a resident at COMC got married, she made us wear gowns even when we were not part of the entourage. I was a candle offerer while the rest in this pic were usherettes.

Ann's wedding

With classmates at Mary Ann's wedding. Jing2x, the 1st girl from the right, got married recently too. Everybody's getting hitched, alright.

Tale of the Rambutan

Scary how this sweet, round ,slippery delight of a fruit could put you on the ventilating machine. On my last duty, we had this patient who was rushed to the ER cyanotic and gasping for air after eating rambutan (Nephelium lappaceum). My co-resident immediately intubated him, finding a big piece of the fruit stuck in his trachea. Good thing it wasn’t deep enough so the intubation blade was able to dislodge the fruit, enabling air to pass through once again. But it was too late. His brain has suffered a few minutes of hypoxia (lack of oxygen delivery), hence causing a part of it permanently damaged. It could have been avoided had someone perform the Heimlich’s maneuver at home.

See, the patient was recently discharged from another hospital weeks ago, treated for stroke. He was confined at the ICU that time, narrowly escaping death. However, luck wasn't on his side when the perils of the normally harmless rambutan caught him. His recent stroke had something to do with his inability to swallow properly. Usually, post-stroke patients are advised soft diet or nasogastric feeding until their swallowing function improves.For some reason, he enjoyed eating the fruit too much that he accidentally swallowed it whole.

A few hours after admission, the ICU nurse referred the patient to us for seizures, a manifestation of the hypoxic injury to his brain. With that, we knew his chances of survival were slim. The next day when I was logging out from my 24 hrs duty, he was still holding on to his dear life. If he does survive, he’s a vegetable, that’s for sure. (digression: odd how a fruit can turn you into a vegetable). I haven’t gone back to duty and I’m not sure whatever happened to him, most likely, he’s dead. It got me thinking how in a snap of a finger, practically anything you do, even something as trivial as eating, can bring you face to face with the angel of death. Life, indeed is short.