i've taken the habit of humming beethoven's 9th symphony when i am either embarassed or pressured into thinking really hard. the loudness and intensity depends upon the gravity and severity of the situation.
i found this habit strange since i was not weaned on mozart and beethoven. my auditory finesse is limited to whatever the neighbors play (from renz verano to disturbed) for the day. in fact, i only knew that the song that has the lyrics "joyful, joyful we adore thee..." was the 9th symphony when i heard it being played over an anime called the "gunslinger girl". so far, i have heard the master's composition in movies like mr. jones (a movie about bipolar disorder), matchpoint (a woody allen film, with scarlett johanson...'nuff said), cruel intentions (with sarah michelle gellar and ryan philippe) and another anime called read or die (about books and paper). whatever the reason, i find humming the music a stress-buster, be it before, during or after an exam. other than that, i do it to annoy my seatmate. effective, but still strange.
until i learned from friends that my father loves singing the star-spangled banner during his operations.
it's genetic.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Friday, September 08, 2006
me and my mouth
i just had to open my mouth.
last week, i commented on how boring life can be when you're in senior year. no cram exams, no systems to memorize, no diseases to familiarize, no freshies and sophies to terrorize...er, how did that get in? >.>
anyway, i think the nursing gods heard me and decided to teach me a lesson. this week i have to complete 2 presentations, pass 2 exams, prepare one mega-kick ass report for mood disorder, submit misc. items for the clubs i'm in and participate in an extempo contest. jeepney rides home finds me zoned out and completely stoned. i can't wait for the week to end. then again, i'm turning 20 by the end of the week. rashhamfrasshammassham!!
rly, i think i've bitten off more than i can chew.
last week, i commented on how boring life can be when you're in senior year. no cram exams, no systems to memorize, no diseases to familiarize, no freshies and sophies to terrorize...er, how did that get in? >.>
anyway, i think the nursing gods heard me and decided to teach me a lesson. this week i have to complete 2 presentations, pass 2 exams, prepare one mega-kick ass report for mood disorder, submit misc. items for the clubs i'm in and participate in an extempo contest. jeepney rides home finds me zoned out and completely stoned. i can't wait for the week to end. then again, i'm turning 20 by the end of the week. rashhamfrasshammassham!!
rly, i think i've bitten off more than i can chew.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
random thoughtlessness
i have a tendency to forget my thoughts real quick, so i wrote some of them on a piece of paper during pharma class. here they are:
i hate to lose
i'm scared of failing
i don't want to die poor
i think my classmates hate me for my study habits. not that i have any. what irritates them the most would probably be when our grades are pretty much at par with each other, after they slaved over their 11-lb notes while i skimmed over my notebook. the sadist part in me rejoices; i find great satisfaction in beating out the nerds! fwe, i know it's pathetic but spare me a thought. it's about the only way that i can get any self-esteem >.<
no matter what other people may say, i am not totally scare-free. i still get cold feet when discussion turns toward our grades. syet. as much as i love college, i'd hate to stay another year. i have a record to protect. it's an average record, but even an average is better than a nothing.
i got posted in the school clinic for duty. nothing serious, except for grade school kids getting in a serious lot of mishaps and troubles. how many headaches can one tolerate?? other than an ulterior motive, like being excused from an extremely boring class (oh, purleaze. this is grade school..not college ^^), i am lead to believe that our grade schoolers are world-class klutz-es and immune deficient in some way. not all clientele were kulit kids. service staff also came in to avail the free albeit meager services the clinic offered. it made me think of how their life is, especially that of a breadwinner who works the skin of his bones as a janitor in Ateneo. does he get jealous when he sees the spoiled, rich kids, spoiling away their moolahs, while he toils for some of it?? i got depressed dwelling on it. to be born poor and to die poor. this world is too cruel.
i hate to lose
i'm scared of failing
i don't want to die poor
i think my classmates hate me for my study habits. not that i have any. what irritates them the most would probably be when our grades are pretty much at par with each other, after they slaved over their 11-lb notes while i skimmed over my notebook. the sadist part in me rejoices; i find great satisfaction in beating out the nerds! fwe, i know it's pathetic but spare me a thought. it's about the only way that i can get any self-esteem >.<
no matter what other people may say, i am not totally scare-free. i still get cold feet when discussion turns toward our grades. syet. as much as i love college, i'd hate to stay another year. i have a record to protect. it's an average record, but even an average is better than a nothing.
i got posted in the school clinic for duty. nothing serious, except for grade school kids getting in a serious lot of mishaps and troubles. how many headaches can one tolerate?? other than an ulterior motive, like being excused from an extremely boring class (oh, purleaze. this is grade school..not college ^^), i am lead to believe that our grade schoolers are world-class klutz-es and immune deficient in some way. not all clientele were kulit kids. service staff also came in to avail the free albeit meager services the clinic offered. it made me think of how their life is, especially that of a breadwinner who works the skin of his bones as a janitor in Ateneo. does he get jealous when he sees the spoiled, rich kids, spoiling away their moolahs, while he toils for some of it?? i got depressed dwelling on it. to be born poor and to die poor. this world is too cruel.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
in the news
our EIC decided to give us permanent 'niches' to work on so that data gathering will be easier. i chose to work under national issues, which i realize now was a really stupid move since i don't read newspapers, much less actually care to know what happens to my beloved yet sinking-in-elephant-turd country, the Philippines. i don't like news. i am a firm believer in the adage that no news is good news.
if you live in the same place as me, then skip this paragraph. obviously, there is no need for me to elaborate our political situation. but for purposes of clarification for the author herself, i shall try to discuss the state of my country. it's in deep shit.
and so am i, unless i find my national news issue to be passed by Tuesday.
i have claimed the job of wading knee-deep in national issues which are usually shitty and emerge from my escapade unscathed, with a clear view of what the news means. i do not mean to be so negative about it; it just can't be helped. on the positive side, i guess i'll be more alert and up-to-date with the going-ons around here. perhaps that will cure my opinion-less lifestyle.
i'm starting to develop tha habit of reading newspapers when i get in the Beacon office. thankfully, the school provides us with the latest newspapers, 2 national and 1 local paper.i don't bother with the local papers; a campus journalist could do articles and layouting better than they do. my favorite reads will have to be the Inquirer's opinion page, especially Randy David's and Patricia Evangelista's columns, the former helping me understand the issues better and clearer while the latter allows me to marvel at the brilliance and brains of today's Filipino youth. too bad their government fails them in so many ways.
i'll be doing my job right if i watch the news and read the papers. i think i'll be enjoying it too.
i just wish i still had social studies class. perhaps i can dazzle them with my newfound passion for the papers.
if you live in the same place as me, then skip this paragraph. obviously, there is no need for me to elaborate our political situation. but for purposes of clarification for the author herself, i shall try to discuss the state of my country. it's in deep shit.
and so am i, unless i find my national news issue to be passed by Tuesday.
i have claimed the job of wading knee-deep in national issues which are usually shitty and emerge from my escapade unscathed, with a clear view of what the news means. i do not mean to be so negative about it; it just can't be helped. on the positive side, i guess i'll be more alert and up-to-date with the going-ons around here. perhaps that will cure my opinion-less lifestyle.
i'm starting to develop tha habit of reading newspapers when i get in the Beacon office. thankfully, the school provides us with the latest newspapers, 2 national and 1 local paper.i don't bother with the local papers; a campus journalist could do articles and layouting better than they do. my favorite reads will have to be the Inquirer's opinion page, especially Randy David's and Patricia Evangelista's columns, the former helping me understand the issues better and clearer while the latter allows me to marvel at the brilliance and brains of today's Filipino youth. too bad their government fails them in so many ways.
i'll be doing my job right if i watch the news and read the papers. i think i'll be enjoying it too.
i just wish i still had social studies class. perhaps i can dazzle them with my newfound passion for the papers.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
teh midterms
prepare to meet thy doom!!! midterms is here!!
it's tomorrow for Pete's sake! tomorrow! and what am i doing? logging on the internet, relying on divine intervention for my academic salvation.
this is no way to survive school, but i have been doing it for so long that it actually works. oh, i want to kill myself sometimes for goofing off on such an easy question, but since i usually pass my exam, the urge to hang myself by my thumbs (hmmm, will that actually kill me?) simply disappears.
speaking of urges, my urge to study is completely in snooze mode. it does not help that i only have 20 or so pages worth of written lecture when photocopied lectures reach around, oh say, 50-70 pages. this is suicide, dude. i do have a decent memory, but it is only good on a short-term basis. everything i studied for the past weeks for my quizzes have leaked out and i have to start from scratch.
anyway, here's to hoping myself a good midterms. not that i'm looking forward to facing it.
this sucks soooo much.
oh well.
<3
it's tomorrow for Pete's sake! tomorrow! and what am i doing? logging on the internet, relying on divine intervention for my academic salvation.
this is no way to survive school, but i have been doing it for so long that it actually works. oh, i want to kill myself sometimes for goofing off on such an easy question, but since i usually pass my exam, the urge to hang myself by my thumbs (hmmm, will that actually kill me?) simply disappears.
speaking of urges, my urge to study is completely in snooze mode. it does not help that i only have 20 or so pages worth of written lecture when photocopied lectures reach around, oh say, 50-70 pages. this is suicide, dude. i do have a decent memory, but it is only good on a short-term basis. everything i studied for the past weeks for my quizzes have leaked out and i have to start from scratch.
anyway, here's to hoping myself a good midterms. not that i'm looking forward to facing it.
this sucks soooo much.
oh well.
<3
Thursday, August 10, 2006
words for the week
use these words in complete sentences:
1. uber
2. toinks
3. ryu!
4. jopeks
5. blue chicken barbecue
the true learnings in college. this week, these words have been going out of my mouth real often. i don't know why i bothered to put it up here. i guess i'm just proud for adding 5 new words to my diminishing vocab.
anyway for the challenge. allow me.
1. uber
i have no idea what this means but i think it's super. got that word from philo class when we passed nietzche.
" i think spike spiegel is uber-cool (complete with drool and winking effect for drama and authenticity)"
2. toinks
a sound effect to signify that i have turd for brains
"they don't change jah, they simply adapt"
(mimicking a pan hitting my head) "oh. toinks!"
3. ryu!
a swear word that is made beautiful by a distinct chavacano accent
"ryu!!"
note: you can add more expletives for your convenience
4. jopeks
a nickname of someone whose true name is too short
"hoy jopkes! i can't see you! haha!"
5. blue chicken barbecue
the end result of a communication drill, when one's team are hard of hearing and low in logic
"blue chicken barbecue? WTF?"
note: though it celebrates our idiocy, the motto above has become our unofficial class chant.
1. uber
2. toinks
3. ryu!
4. jopeks
5. blue chicken barbecue
the true learnings in college. this week, these words have been going out of my mouth real often. i don't know why i bothered to put it up here. i guess i'm just proud for adding 5 new words to my diminishing vocab.
anyway for the challenge. allow me.
1. uber
i have no idea what this means but i think it's super. got that word from philo class when we passed nietzche.
" i think spike spiegel is uber-cool (complete with drool and winking effect for drama and authenticity)"
2. toinks
a sound effect to signify that i have turd for brains
"they don't change jah, they simply adapt"
(mimicking a pan hitting my head) "oh. toinks!"
3. ryu!
a swear word that is made beautiful by a distinct chavacano accent
"ryu!!"
note: you can add more expletives for your convenience
4. jopeks
a nickname of someone whose true name is too short
"hoy jopkes! i can't see you! haha!"
5. blue chicken barbecue
the end result of a communication drill, when one's team are hard of hearing and low in logic
"blue chicken barbecue? WTF?"
note: though it celebrates our idiocy, the motto above has become our unofficial class chant.
Friday, August 04, 2006
timing
life is all about timing.
take, for example, my recent absent-spree (dumdumdumdum....thus, it begins) from school and duty. to absent from one's duty for reasons other than world destruction and alien invasion is nothing short of sacrilege in nursing. however, with skill, tenacity and lots of luck (plus an extensive knowledge on your clinical instructor's habits), one can get away with nothing more than headaches for staying in bed for 8 hours straight.
back to my absent-spree. my system went down because of the flu. it lasted approximately for a day but i consider it a waste if i don't milk it for what it's worth. >.>
rash decisions always make me nervous and thus, on my return to academic civilization, i was on pins and needles all day. 12 hours of duty is no small thing, and although i am cool with the idea of payback, conscience has a way of making me feel guilty of time lost and wasted (well, not exactly. i did manage to watch 16 episodes of the 26-episode anime series i had stashed hidden in my room).
i half decided to go MIA for a week straight but decided to ask mom about it.
"mom, i still feel bad"
"don't go to school then"
"but i don't have my fever anymore"
"hmmm.."
"there might be a quiz"
"then go"
"but i still feel bad"
"then don't go"
honestly, i realy wished she just told me to shut up and drag my lazy ass to school. it's her way of developing in me good decision making skills.way to late in my humble opinion. i am officially a dependent, lazy pervert with no ambition except to finish school and land a job. >.<>.>
haha, my groupmates wanted to kill me right then and there.
like i said..timing is everything.
take, for example, my recent absent-spree (dumdumdumdum....thus, it begins) from school and duty. to absent from one's duty for reasons other than world destruction and alien invasion is nothing short of sacrilege in nursing. however, with skill, tenacity and lots of luck (plus an extensive knowledge on your clinical instructor's habits), one can get away with nothing more than headaches for staying in bed for 8 hours straight.
back to my absent-spree. my system went down because of the flu. it lasted approximately for a day but i consider it a waste if i don't milk it for what it's worth. >.>
rash decisions always make me nervous and thus, on my return to academic civilization, i was on pins and needles all day. 12 hours of duty is no small thing, and although i am cool with the idea of payback, conscience has a way of making me feel guilty of time lost and wasted (well, not exactly. i did manage to watch 16 episodes of the 26-episode anime series i had stashed hidden in my room).
i half decided to go MIA for a week straight but decided to ask mom about it.
"mom, i still feel bad"
"don't go to school then"
"but i don't have my fever anymore"
"hmmm.."
"there might be a quiz"
"then go"
"but i still feel bad"
"then don't go"
honestly, i realy wished she just told me to shut up and drag my lazy ass to school. it's her way of developing in me good decision making skills.way to late in my humble opinion. i am officially a dependent, lazy pervert with no ambition except to finish school and land a job. >.<>.>
haha, my groupmates wanted to kill me right then and there.
like i said..timing is everything.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
inside somebody else's mind
the pinnacle of my nursing days...to be assigned in the famed ward 9.
i always made it a point to avoid passing ward 9 during my duties in the hospital. although i know for a fact that madness is not communicable, i was still scared shitless that by some cosmic anomaly (more like punishment and damnation) would fall on me and i'd be a looney for the rest of my life.
you'd have thought that we were lathered with glue, the way me and my groupmates stuck together on our first day in the war zone. you would too, when the patients would swarm around you, touching your shoulder and staring at you as if you were an exhibit in a museum chronicling the saga of human madness. one guy touched my arm and started raving about my braces. soon everyone was raving about my braces. the number of times i had to smile in that ward...
the thing about being in the ward is that you become unsure of yourself. it takes a toll on you, emotionally and physically, to be inside that ward since you have to keep reminding yourself that you are sane and that they aren't. you're suppose to guide them back to reality, not encourage their delusions and imagination. but then, guiding these people back to reality is tough. constant reminder of who you are and where you are, are essential in keeping yourself normal for the first few hours inside. the temptation to let go and pretend, that yes, kissing everyone on the first meeting, is very strong.
part of the routine in the ward is to take care of your patient's hygiene. yes, hygiene. when the mind goes, everything else follows. personality, hygiene and clothes...off, then gone. thankfully, my patient was well enough to do hygiene herself...i just had to supervise and remind her of some things but other than that i had it easy in the ward. after all, my friends had to spend at least 30 minutes inside the makeshift bathroom with their patients stripping and bathing.
as the hours go by, apprehension soon wears off and appreciation settles in. by appreciation, i mean that we start to see theory in action. discussions inside the room are seen in the patients' behaviour; not that we learn that much in the classroom, mind.
there are some exasparating moments--they are crazy after all, but an experience inside ward 9 can be surreal. i was unnerved by the fact that most of them knew that they were crazy and why they were there. if a person can tell you frankly that she's crazy, then is she really crazy? they were not the picture that we often see in television or read in books. true that some go berserk and have to be isolated, but most are, well, normal to say the least. how do you then classify crazy?? >.>
some moments are touching. once an inmate went nuts and started stripping inside the cell. when this happens you just don't walk up the cell and talk to the guy; you run (for the duration of my duty, i was scared...all the time...). on and on he went, screaming, begging, prostrating himself on the cold floor. unexpectedly, it was another inmate who managed to calm him down. she went by the door and started cooing and stroking the old man's face. soon, his screams subsided. frankly, i was amazed. it seems that even though their sanity is gone, the essence of being human is still within the recesses of their minds. that need to comfort and be comforted is there, existing, thriving and yearning...no sane person dared do that. one insane inmate did. in that aspect of caring, they are better than most sane people i know.
socialization came in on our last day. hah! amazing how these people love to sing old Tagalog ballads, to the point that i was on the brink of stupor and sleep--a no no in ward 9. they dance too--shuffling is more like it. games are carefully planned. you don't want these people arguing over who should win or lose now, don't you? in the karaoke session, my microphone gets handled by more than one inmate. not to be prejudiced or anything, but rumors of tuberculosis are present inside the ward (as told to me by one inmate) so i kept my microphone sealed inside the cellophane when i came home. i plan to dump it in hot water. hopefully, nobody at home will miss it.
i always made it a point to avoid passing ward 9 during my duties in the hospital. although i know for a fact that madness is not communicable, i was still scared shitless that by some cosmic anomaly (more like punishment and damnation) would fall on me and i'd be a looney for the rest of my life.
you'd have thought that we were lathered with glue, the way me and my groupmates stuck together on our first day in the war zone. you would too, when the patients would swarm around you, touching your shoulder and staring at you as if you were an exhibit in a museum chronicling the saga of human madness. one guy touched my arm and started raving about my braces. soon everyone was raving about my braces. the number of times i had to smile in that ward...
the thing about being in the ward is that you become unsure of yourself. it takes a toll on you, emotionally and physically, to be inside that ward since you have to keep reminding yourself that you are sane and that they aren't. you're suppose to guide them back to reality, not encourage their delusions and imagination. but then, guiding these people back to reality is tough. constant reminder of who you are and where you are, are essential in keeping yourself normal for the first few hours inside. the temptation to let go and pretend, that yes, kissing everyone on the first meeting, is very strong.
part of the routine in the ward is to take care of your patient's hygiene. yes, hygiene. when the mind goes, everything else follows. personality, hygiene and clothes...off, then gone. thankfully, my patient was well enough to do hygiene herself...i just had to supervise and remind her of some things but other than that i had it easy in the ward. after all, my friends had to spend at least 30 minutes inside the makeshift bathroom with their patients stripping and bathing.
as the hours go by, apprehension soon wears off and appreciation settles in. by appreciation, i mean that we start to see theory in action. discussions inside the room are seen in the patients' behaviour; not that we learn that much in the classroom, mind.
there are some exasparating moments--they are crazy after all, but an experience inside ward 9 can be surreal. i was unnerved by the fact that most of them knew that they were crazy and why they were there. if a person can tell you frankly that she's crazy, then is she really crazy? they were not the picture that we often see in television or read in books. true that some go berserk and have to be isolated, but most are, well, normal to say the least. how do you then classify crazy?? >.>
some moments are touching. once an inmate went nuts and started stripping inside the cell. when this happens you just don't walk up the cell and talk to the guy; you run (for the duration of my duty, i was scared...all the time...). on and on he went, screaming, begging, prostrating himself on the cold floor. unexpectedly, it was another inmate who managed to calm him down. she went by the door and started cooing and stroking the old man's face. soon, his screams subsided. frankly, i was amazed. it seems that even though their sanity is gone, the essence of being human is still within the recesses of their minds. that need to comfort and be comforted is there, existing, thriving and yearning...no sane person dared do that. one insane inmate did. in that aspect of caring, they are better than most sane people i know.
socialization came in on our last day. hah! amazing how these people love to sing old Tagalog ballads, to the point that i was on the brink of stupor and sleep--a no no in ward 9. they dance too--shuffling is more like it. games are carefully planned. you don't want these people arguing over who should win or lose now, don't you? in the karaoke session, my microphone gets handled by more than one inmate. not to be prejudiced or anything, but rumors of tuberculosis are present inside the ward (as told to me by one inmate) so i kept my microphone sealed inside the cellophane when i came home. i plan to dump it in hot water. hopefully, nobody at home will miss it.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
chicken wars
we have a boarder in our house. he's a selfish, self-centered cock...i like the way you think, but this time, i mean a literal cock...a chicken boarder.
it all began when my mom decided to purchase two bantam chickens (those tiny, white ones), with dreams of farm land bliss and paradise (meaning: free eggs, milk, cheese, dairy products....hehe). for a while, i was the official chicken-babysitter. i had to tag along two animals whose purpose in life is to peck anything that stands still for approximately 0.5 seconds.
then came the cock, er, the other chicken (he's a big, black one), set free from the city life's boredom and captivity. i realized that chickens are territorial. understandably, the newcomer was shy and 'hangul' (my mom's flowers were facing armaggeddon), while the bantam male was all puffed-up with his alpha-male ego. the white chick pecked and chased the black chick everytime he had the chance, forcing the black chick to run for cover and follow timidly behind. no amount of shooing and scolding could change the white chick's superior view.
for a time, the black one accepted the hitler-like regime of the bantam couple, until he found the greener grass beyond our fence. our neighbor owned a dozen or so black chickens (ugly ones, i tell you), and he found his people. everyday, he would make the trip outside the fence and would spend hours doing..well, doing what chickens do. the excursions would last for an hour and soon extended for the whole day.
the black chick would soon go home only for food and sleep time...very much like a boarder....very much like my brother...hehe...but that's another story.
so, he's the boarder that gone's before the sun rises and comes back way after midnight. i'd like to scold the cock once in a while, but that is taking it to far. for the record, i have not named the chicken, thus preventing any personal and emotional bond with it. in the end, boarder or not, a cock is still a cock c:
it all began when my mom decided to purchase two bantam chickens (those tiny, white ones), with dreams of farm land bliss and paradise (meaning: free eggs, milk, cheese, dairy products....hehe). for a while, i was the official chicken-babysitter. i had to tag along two animals whose purpose in life is to peck anything that stands still for approximately 0.5 seconds.
then came the cock, er, the other chicken (he's a big, black one), set free from the city life's boredom and captivity. i realized that chickens are territorial. understandably, the newcomer was shy and 'hangul' (my mom's flowers were facing armaggeddon), while the bantam male was all puffed-up with his alpha-male ego. the white chick pecked and chased the black chick everytime he had the chance, forcing the black chick to run for cover and follow timidly behind. no amount of shooing and scolding could change the white chick's superior view.
for a time, the black one accepted the hitler-like regime of the bantam couple, until he found the greener grass beyond our fence. our neighbor owned a dozen or so black chickens (ugly ones, i tell you), and he found his people. everyday, he would make the trip outside the fence and would spend hours doing..well, doing what chickens do. the excursions would last for an hour and soon extended for the whole day.
the black chick would soon go home only for food and sleep time...very much like a boarder....very much like my brother...hehe...but that's another story.
so, he's the boarder that gone's before the sun rises and comes back way after midnight. i'd like to scold the cock once in a while, but that is taking it to far. for the record, i have not named the chicken, thus preventing any personal and emotional bond with it. in the end, boarder or not, a cock is still a cock c:
Monday, July 10, 2006
tidbits
one week down and uhm....well, more to go. ha! i am getting the hang of this college stuff, even if it drives me up the wall sometimes.
i just love community duty, expecially when third years are around. you can boss them around and order them to do the dirty stuff in the health center; that is basically catering to snotty kids and grumpy mothers. haha, 'tis good to be a slave-driver, er, a senior that is.
today, we had a feeding program sponsored by the health center. haha, wished it were for us. i skipped breakfast so by the time i was at the center, my stomach was not pleased with me. the feeding program was supposedly for those kids who are below their normal weight and height or possibly on the verge of malnourishment. that's free food for you, dear reader. normally, that's the bait that health centers offer so that people, will, like go and have their selves checked up and inspected, because people will go in if the symptoms are really downhill already. and they get pissed off if the health workers can't do anything about it.
considering that the program is about nourishing kids with the proper vitamins and nutrients, i wondered why the food served was a glassful of sticky, chunky arroz caldo, with pieces of chicken added not for flavoring, but more of an afterthought ("hmmm, arroz caldo without chicken, is not arroz caldo....so here goes the chicken leg to be shared by a pack of hungry wolves we call children..."). i know the brgy. health center is 'kapos' of budget and all that, but surely, something more nutritious (and possibly, palatable) could have been served instead of plain rice swimming in plain soup. that's all carbohydrates, and believe me, a glassful is not enough to put in the desired bulk and adipose tissues on the frames of those skinny, hyperactive and snotty kids. nutrition and its applications is a long-term process; it's not just a feeding program when you feel like it, then believe that you have saved the world from malnutrition and diseases. the fact that the BHW kept on urging kids who obviously were not in for the feeding program proves that they lacked the preparation and dissemination. they probably meant good in sharing the arroz caldo with those kids, but then one BHW commented that they must reach a quota of kids for that day of feeding. it's still all about the image, the papers and the semblance of doing something else in the health center, aside from barking orders to the student nurses. however good the program was, it is still tainted by the motives.
hai hai. i really can't judge their actions. but it sure does bother me. tacky, tacky, tacky.
anyways, i am back in school. i have to jam in three chapters worth of lessons in my short-term memory so that i might survive another quiz. after my excellent performance on ,y first quiz, things have been going down hill. i got a 76 and an 81 after the 95. can't help it. my neurons fail to work when the clock strikes 5:30.
show-feedings and flunkable quizzes. hai, i don't know which one's worse.
i just love community duty, expecially when third years are around. you can boss them around and order them to do the dirty stuff in the health center; that is basically catering to snotty kids and grumpy mothers. haha, 'tis good to be a slave-driver, er, a senior that is.
today, we had a feeding program sponsored by the health center. haha, wished it were for us. i skipped breakfast so by the time i was at the center, my stomach was not pleased with me. the feeding program was supposedly for those kids who are below their normal weight and height or possibly on the verge of malnourishment. that's free food for you, dear reader. normally, that's the bait that health centers offer so that people, will, like go and have their selves checked up and inspected, because people will go in if the symptoms are really downhill already. and they get pissed off if the health workers can't do anything about it.
considering that the program is about nourishing kids with the proper vitamins and nutrients, i wondered why the food served was a glassful of sticky, chunky arroz caldo, with pieces of chicken added not for flavoring, but more of an afterthought ("hmmm, arroz caldo without chicken, is not arroz caldo....so here goes the chicken leg to be shared by a pack of hungry wolves we call children..."). i know the brgy. health center is 'kapos' of budget and all that, but surely, something more nutritious (and possibly, palatable) could have been served instead of plain rice swimming in plain soup. that's all carbohydrates, and believe me, a glassful is not enough to put in the desired bulk and adipose tissues on the frames of those skinny, hyperactive and snotty kids. nutrition and its applications is a long-term process; it's not just a feeding program when you feel like it, then believe that you have saved the world from malnutrition and diseases. the fact that the BHW kept on urging kids who obviously were not in for the feeding program proves that they lacked the preparation and dissemination. they probably meant good in sharing the arroz caldo with those kids, but then one BHW commented that they must reach a quota of kids for that day of feeding. it's still all about the image, the papers and the semblance of doing something else in the health center, aside from barking orders to the student nurses. however good the program was, it is still tainted by the motives.
hai hai. i really can't judge their actions. but it sure does bother me. tacky, tacky, tacky.
anyways, i am back in school. i have to jam in three chapters worth of lessons in my short-term memory so that i might survive another quiz. after my excellent performance on ,y first quiz, things have been going down hill. i got a 76 and an 81 after the 95. can't help it. my neurons fail to work when the clock strikes 5:30.
show-feedings and flunkable quizzes. hai, i don't know which one's worse.
Friday, July 07, 2006
of falling in and falling out
i diagnosed myself to have bipolar disorder. in laymen's term a manic-depressive. i don't have time to see a shrink (i don't think zamboanga has one *sigh) so after leafing through the pages of my psycha book and finding this term, i decided that the symptoms were custom made for me. i need a name to describe the way i felt this past week. frankly, shitty is the only word that comes into my mind. hai hai, i never want to go through another week like this one. shitty, shitty, shitty. oh man, give me some prozac!
now that i have a name, we try to delve into the reasons as to why i feel shitty all the time. i came up with a couple of answers:
1. it's all about classes-- i pay P30,000 per sem and all i get is shitty classes. shitty= dumb, gay teachers.
2.falling out with old friends...-- i blame myself for this. my personality is a complex one, and even i don't understand the prima donna b*tch. all i can say is that i wished i had placed more efforts in maintaining my relationships with friends. it hurts me bad to see me and monique drifting apart. not that we hate each other, mind. it's just that she has a new circle of friends and i don't. i feel jealous everytime she goes out with her friends. i guess i keep on remembering the times when we used to go out. i want to get her attention sometimes, but i feel like a complete idiot. i am starting to sound positively lesbo here...0_o'
3. ...and falling in with new ones-- kill me, then. i have a tendency of withdrawing back when things get too cozy and close. it feels soooo...cheesy. cottage cheese. the risk of putting yourself out there, of sharing an identity with someone else, of being typecasted into one group...that pisses me off for some reason. which makes me understand why i still have no boyfriend after two decades in this world.
4. senior blues-- i should say, yey i am a senior! instead i say, God!...i've been ranting about my love-hate relationship with nursing for the past 4 years that i'll stop and just shoot myself.
5. suicidal tendencies-- don't call the cops. nobody takes me seriously anyway. nope, i'm a passive suicide idealist *idealist??WTF??* and it means that i think about death and dying a lot, but i don't make plans to kill myself. i don't think i'll make a lovely corpse.
6.hypochondriac-- human beings are proud of their flaws. often, they'd rather stick with their crippling and debilitating demons than take on a new life. bad as it seems, demons are comfort zones, familiar territory. it's an identity see??
i am running out of reasons. thinking has not been therapeutic. it only made me feel dumber by the second. i read other people's blog and gawk at their finesse and ability to chronicle their day to day lives in such an intelligent and lofty manner. all i can manage is a shitty summary of how shitty i have been feeling. my swearing has grown refined, thanks to blogging.
i find it strange that my classmates don't blog. my cousin's classmates blog all the time. i dunno, i just noticed that right now. shitty, i know.
now that i have a name, we try to delve into the reasons as to why i feel shitty all the time. i came up with a couple of answers:
1. it's all about classes-- i pay P30,000 per sem and all i get is shitty classes. shitty= dumb, gay teachers.
2.falling out with old friends...-- i blame myself for this. my personality is a complex one, and even i don't understand the prima donna b*tch. all i can say is that i wished i had placed more efforts in maintaining my relationships with friends. it hurts me bad to see me and monique drifting apart. not that we hate each other, mind. it's just that she has a new circle of friends and i don't. i feel jealous everytime she goes out with her friends. i guess i keep on remembering the times when we used to go out. i want to get her attention sometimes, but i feel like a complete idiot. i am starting to sound positively lesbo here...0_o'
3. ...and falling in with new ones-- kill me, then. i have a tendency of withdrawing back when things get too cozy and close. it feels soooo...cheesy. cottage cheese. the risk of putting yourself out there, of sharing an identity with someone else, of being typecasted into one group...that pisses me off for some reason. which makes me understand why i still have no boyfriend after two decades in this world.
4. senior blues-- i should say, yey i am a senior! instead i say, God!...i've been ranting about my love-hate relationship with nursing for the past 4 years that i'll stop and just shoot myself.
5. suicidal tendencies-- don't call the cops. nobody takes me seriously anyway. nope, i'm a passive suicide idealist *idealist??WTF??* and it means that i think about death and dying a lot, but i don't make plans to kill myself. i don't think i'll make a lovely corpse.
6.hypochondriac-- human beings are proud of their flaws. often, they'd rather stick with their crippling and debilitating demons than take on a new life. bad as it seems, demons are comfort zones, familiar territory. it's an identity see??
i am running out of reasons. thinking has not been therapeutic. it only made me feel dumber by the second. i read other people's blog and gawk at their finesse and ability to chronicle their day to day lives in such an intelligent and lofty manner. all i can manage is a shitty summary of how shitty i have been feeling. my swearing has grown refined, thanks to blogging.
i find it strange that my classmates don't blog. my cousin's classmates blog all the time. i dunno, i just noticed that right now. shitty, i know.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
years
i am getting old...
last night, we held our club's commitment night. it's an annual event, and in my 3 years of being a psalmista, i have always attended this event, as a participant. this year, however, i went in as an organizer. and it has taken its toll on my frayed nerves.
most new members were freshmen and sophomores. hyper is an understatement, manic is more like it. i watched their activities with ambivalence, fond and happy but at the same time annoyed and irritated. as i said, it does not take a big thing to irritate me. i find that the little things irritate me most, like when somebody talks to loud or acts girly. i know, God help me.
the fact remained that i felt completely out of place. granted, i am not that old but i felt i was a good 20 years older than my age, the way i acted. i have never been comfortable with a large group of people, much more young people. how in earth am i suppose to engage them in genuine conversation where they won't be secretly wishing me to roll over and die?
after the opening programs, we had some games and i sat out. not good for my bones. and yes, i thought it was extremely cheesy. i am seriously thinking of kicking my own ass for being so...so..so...uhm..difficult.
sleep time came, and all were huddled together in classic-slumber party style, where girls divulge their secrets and boys get to be boys. seriously, i have outgrown that phase as well, and i never liked the talking part anyway. i can't relate to their stories. i felt waaay too old to be part of their group. sure, seniority has its advantages, but not at that time.especially when you easily get bored with talks of boys, ghosts and boys.don't get me wrong, their good kids. i'm just too old.
i wanted to have an intelligent conversation with someone, someone who could talk sensibly and preferably in tagalog not in english, because for me, english outside the classroom is irritating to my ears. i wished for someone who could sit still and share some moments of silence. i found two or three but i got bored. to say that i was more intelligent than them is pompous. but that's what i felt. too intelligent for them, too complicated.
unlike them, i am not simple-minded. sometimes but not often, because i get angry with myself. as i curled all alone last night, at an early hour while all were still up and talking, i wished for the old days of commitment night. egotistical as it may seem, i wanted to have the attention to myself and be the baby of the group, as i was before now. previously, i got to be pampered, spoiled rotten by my seniors, and my aunt pointed out that i always wanted to be with older people. it's the attention that fuels this desire. it is gratifying to be appreciated for who you are.
that's what i tried to do to the new members. to make them feel welcomed and appreciated. but 3 sentences of short talk is my limit and i ended up fumbling with the pillow, mumbling incoherently. i looked like an idiot, when i wanted to prove that i was intelligent beyond my years.
i retired to bed early. boredom, exhaustion and my age made me do it.
i am getting old.
last night, we held our club's commitment night. it's an annual event, and in my 3 years of being a psalmista, i have always attended this event, as a participant. this year, however, i went in as an organizer. and it has taken its toll on my frayed nerves.
most new members were freshmen and sophomores. hyper is an understatement, manic is more like it. i watched their activities with ambivalence, fond and happy but at the same time annoyed and irritated. as i said, it does not take a big thing to irritate me. i find that the little things irritate me most, like when somebody talks to loud or acts girly. i know, God help me.
the fact remained that i felt completely out of place. granted, i am not that old but i felt i was a good 20 years older than my age, the way i acted. i have never been comfortable with a large group of people, much more young people. how in earth am i suppose to engage them in genuine conversation where they won't be secretly wishing me to roll over and die?
after the opening programs, we had some games and i sat out. not good for my bones. and yes, i thought it was extremely cheesy. i am seriously thinking of kicking my own ass for being so...so..so...uhm..difficult.
sleep time came, and all were huddled together in classic-slumber party style, where girls divulge their secrets and boys get to be boys. seriously, i have outgrown that phase as well, and i never liked the talking part anyway. i can't relate to their stories. i felt waaay too old to be part of their group. sure, seniority has its advantages, but not at that time.especially when you easily get bored with talks of boys, ghosts and boys.don't get me wrong, their good kids. i'm just too old.
i wanted to have an intelligent conversation with someone, someone who could talk sensibly and preferably in tagalog not in english, because for me, english outside the classroom is irritating to my ears. i wished for someone who could sit still and share some moments of silence. i found two or three but i got bored. to say that i was more intelligent than them is pompous. but that's what i felt. too intelligent for them, too complicated.
unlike them, i am not simple-minded. sometimes but not often, because i get angry with myself. as i curled all alone last night, at an early hour while all were still up and talking, i wished for the old days of commitment night. egotistical as it may seem, i wanted to have the attention to myself and be the baby of the group, as i was before now. previously, i got to be pampered, spoiled rotten by my seniors, and my aunt pointed out that i always wanted to be with older people. it's the attention that fuels this desire. it is gratifying to be appreciated for who you are.
that's what i tried to do to the new members. to make them feel welcomed and appreciated. but 3 sentences of short talk is my limit and i ended up fumbling with the pillow, mumbling incoherently. i looked like an idiot, when i wanted to prove that i was intelligent beyond my years.
i retired to bed early. boredom, exhaustion and my age made me do it.
i am getting old.
Friday, June 30, 2006
go to hell, you!
it does not take much to tick me off this days. i'm getting quite a reputation among my seatmates as the resident hothead. one likely reason would be my period, but then,the uterine cycle of renewal has already such a bad reputation that i digress.
periods don't tick me off. teachers do. particularly inept and incompetent teachers. inept, incompetent and gay teachers, and i don't mean gay as happy. gay as in gay--homo, fag...that's about the extent of my gay vocab but you get the point. trust me, if your gay teacher was my teacher, you'll be wishing for an air gun waaaay before christmas.
i don't have problems with gay people, normally, since i tend to avoid them and unfashionable slobs like me hardly attract their attention. i have noticed that gay people tend to lean towards women who are sophisticated, mature, fashinable and well-groomed (kris and boy, anyone?)...but yes, i find them nice and good, irritating sometimes and arrogant, but nevertheless tolerable.
however, gay teachers are a different matter. nursing students, as a rule, are critical and observant (read: bisyador), and gay people are critical people, a higher degree than the normal homo sapien, too. what do you get when you mix the two? a kick-ass critical bitch, whose pastime are bitching and prancing.
my teacher/s exactly. i want nothing but good lessons and good teachers. gender does not matter. in this case, it does. for the past week, my lessons under gay teachers have all been imitations of MMK meets Oprah meets Tyra Banks meets the MAD tv show. it's pissing me off, and i don't get pissed off, 5 minutes into the class. that is an extreme number, given that i have the patience of a patient gone comatose.
overreacting?maybe but i prefer maybe not. how would you feel if all your teacher did was bitch, criticize, scrutinize, and made rude and below-the-belt remarks? or if he is a racis, but does not think he is? or if he thinks he's a god just because he went to this college, or trained in this so-so institution? or if he thinks he's a psychologist, that he has the right to analyze those experiences of yours, marking you out as a weird, non-existent entity just because you never had a relationship with the opposite sex? or if he looked like glenda, the gender-confused doll of the seed of chucky? oh, c'mon now. bite me.
i survive the hours by not paying attention and by exercising my creative abilities. these has produced good results. my drawing skills, while still pathetic at some points, are becoming better and better. i even have my first color-pencil rendered anime girl (without reference!). the other times, i make snide comments with my seatmates, calling my instructor names and wishing i had a slingshot with me. but then, my heart rate only shoots up and i suffer from the shock and pressure of not being able to scream and pull my instructors' hair off. that is so gay.
periods don't tick me off. teachers do. particularly inept and incompetent teachers. inept, incompetent and gay teachers, and i don't mean gay as happy. gay as in gay--homo, fag...that's about the extent of my gay vocab but you get the point. trust me, if your gay teacher was my teacher, you'll be wishing for an air gun waaaay before christmas.
i don't have problems with gay people, normally, since i tend to avoid them and unfashionable slobs like me hardly attract their attention. i have noticed that gay people tend to lean towards women who are sophisticated, mature, fashinable and well-groomed (kris and boy, anyone?)...but yes, i find them nice and good, irritating sometimes and arrogant, but nevertheless tolerable.
however, gay teachers are a different matter. nursing students, as a rule, are critical and observant (read: bisyador), and gay people are critical people, a higher degree than the normal homo sapien, too. what do you get when you mix the two? a kick-ass critical bitch, whose pastime are bitching and prancing.
my teacher/s exactly. i want nothing but good lessons and good teachers. gender does not matter. in this case, it does. for the past week, my lessons under gay teachers have all been imitations of MMK meets Oprah meets Tyra Banks meets the MAD tv show. it's pissing me off, and i don't get pissed off, 5 minutes into the class. that is an extreme number, given that i have the patience of a patient gone comatose.
overreacting?maybe but i prefer maybe not. how would you feel if all your teacher did was bitch, criticize, scrutinize, and made rude and below-the-belt remarks? or if he is a racis, but does not think he is? or if he thinks he's a god just because he went to this college, or trained in this so-so institution? or if he thinks he's a psychologist, that he has the right to analyze those experiences of yours, marking you out as a weird, non-existent entity just because you never had a relationship with the opposite sex? or if he looked like glenda, the gender-confused doll of the seed of chucky? oh, c'mon now. bite me.
i survive the hours by not paying attention and by exercising my creative abilities. these has produced good results. my drawing skills, while still pathetic at some points, are becoming better and better. i even have my first color-pencil rendered anime girl (without reference!). the other times, i make snide comments with my seatmates, calling my instructor names and wishing i had a slingshot with me. but then, my heart rate only shoots up and i suffer from the shock and pressure of not being able to scream and pull my instructors' hair off. that is so gay.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
still numb
school is back, but i still can't shake off my post-vacation hangover. maybe taking that 2 month vacation after 2 years of vacation-less days was a bad idea.
my first week in school had me fighting to breath, literally, since my nose was heavy with the dripping stuff we call phelgm. i sounded like a soprano gone wrong, and my machinery would backfire at the most conspicious moments. so much for being a head-turner.
second week had me waking up at an ungodly hour of 5 am to resume my weekly torture, an act that is required of me so that i can graduate. my duties began again, and i cursed fluently for the week straight. it was gore-fest this time though as i got assigned in glorious OR, where blood and spit are normal occurences, and guts are normal panoramic view. i got a lot of cases this time around, and i'm keeping my fingers for more people to fall sick and get operated upon. harhar, talk about misfortune on others.
third week in and i have had 3 exams. i did pretty well in my first, but the second two were disasters. the lecture consisted of a 28-page photocopy, but all i had was one page of handwritten, unlegible, unorganized lecture in my notebook. now that's something. some people call it amazing, that i had summarized the lesson within 4-5 paragraphs. i call it plain lunacy. gosh, i wasn't even listening to the lesson. but i did produce an amazing still life portrait of my teacher's bag, which prompted my friend mica, to say that i needed to shift to fine arts instead of nursing. first time luck, i say to her.
on the weekend: no study habit was born. i read through an amazing novel by jeffrey archer, entitled kane and abel. my mom read this during her college years. talk about amazing, neh? anyway, it was a great read and an amazing find. i hope to finish two more books by this week, while surviving my responsibilities as president of an organization (PSALM) and as a copy editor for the newspaper. not bad for a lazy senior with no ambition.
yeah, i know i speak forth utter crap and nonsense. didn't i tell you i still have that post-vacation hangover? here's the undeniable proof.
my first week in school had me fighting to breath, literally, since my nose was heavy with the dripping stuff we call phelgm. i sounded like a soprano gone wrong, and my machinery would backfire at the most conspicious moments. so much for being a head-turner.
second week had me waking up at an ungodly hour of 5 am to resume my weekly torture, an act that is required of me so that i can graduate. my duties began again, and i cursed fluently for the week straight. it was gore-fest this time though as i got assigned in glorious OR, where blood and spit are normal occurences, and guts are normal panoramic view. i got a lot of cases this time around, and i'm keeping my fingers for more people to fall sick and get operated upon. harhar, talk about misfortune on others.
third week in and i have had 3 exams. i did pretty well in my first, but the second two were disasters. the lecture consisted of a 28-page photocopy, but all i had was one page of handwritten, unlegible, unorganized lecture in my notebook. now that's something. some people call it amazing, that i had summarized the lesson within 4-5 paragraphs. i call it plain lunacy. gosh, i wasn't even listening to the lesson. but i did produce an amazing still life portrait of my teacher's bag, which prompted my friend mica, to say that i needed to shift to fine arts instead of nursing. first time luck, i say to her.
on the weekend: no study habit was born. i read through an amazing novel by jeffrey archer, entitled kane and abel. my mom read this during her college years. talk about amazing, neh? anyway, it was a great read and an amazing find. i hope to finish two more books by this week, while surviving my responsibilities as president of an organization (PSALM) and as a copy editor for the newspaper. not bad for a lazy senior with no ambition.
yeah, i know i speak forth utter crap and nonsense. didn't i tell you i still have that post-vacation hangover? here's the undeniable proof.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
r u naruto?
it has been a long time since anime took this country by storm. i miss the days of anime assault 1 and 2, of watching super-robots kick alien ass, of winged swordsmen falling in love, of afternoon fights with the family for television supremacy. those were the good days *nostalgia*
but now, i am seeing a possible resurrection, thanks to studio 23's anime block in the afternoon. ladies and gentlemen, presenting the.....ninjas of konoha, who in the past few months, succesfully glued children, teens and adults alike to tubes and computers. like ghostfighters, voltes v and fushigi yuugi, naruto, in my humble opinion, is starting to resurrect anime nostalgia and fervor among the weary teens of this nations. it's not life-saving but still a good thing.
naruto is a story about well, a boy named naruto and his dealings with his community and his journey on becoming the greatest ninja evah or hokage. the story is pretty formulaic, talentless and scorned boy becomes better and better because he never gives up in a fight....but we noypis are suckers for those kinds of anime anyway (at least i am).
naruto's success can be seen by the way people in my community interact with each other. one time, as i was going to the store to buy my daily provisions of junk foods, five boys rushed by, all screaming "naruto ya, naruto ya!!". you don't see that everyday. it's a testament to the success of the show because you just don't see people running and screaming "deal or no deal na!!.."
then, naruto has become very common conversation fare. in my school, where territories are determined by courses, and friendships are limited by blocks since everyone is prejudiced, people from all courses are seen talking about naruto. a nursing student stops a BS Comsci student to ask for details of episode 123, and an organization featured naruto episodes in the hallway, to great success. with naruto, courses and status does not matter. all are equal in the sight of the hokage.
the classroom is not exempted. my friend, marc, having introduced me to naruto way back, is delighted to see such appreciation from the people. he's like a proud papa, the way he's acting. it's easier to talk about this things since everybody listens to you and starts talking.
as the official anime freak of the class, many has made it a point of stopping me in hallways to ask if i had the complete series of naruto. i have been asked this question by six different people from different sections and courses. i am not irritated or anything. i am actually flattered that people would consider me as a source of anime pleasure. it's a reputation i have been nurturing since college in hopes of becoming popular (harhar). mababaw lang talaga kaligayahan ko =^^=v
unfortunately, i don't have the whole series of naruto, and this painfully reminds me that i am a struggling anime fan without pockets to indulge my hobbies.
i'm glad to see that anime is finally coming back, not yet to its former glory, but we're getting there. but then it's hell to be an anime fan in the philippines.
but now, i am seeing a possible resurrection, thanks to studio 23's anime block in the afternoon. ladies and gentlemen, presenting the.....ninjas of konoha, who in the past few months, succesfully glued children, teens and adults alike to tubes and computers. like ghostfighters, voltes v and fushigi yuugi, naruto, in my humble opinion, is starting to resurrect anime nostalgia and fervor among the weary teens of this nations. it's not life-saving but still a good thing.
naruto is a story about well, a boy named naruto and his dealings with his community and his journey on becoming the greatest ninja evah or hokage. the story is pretty formulaic, talentless and scorned boy becomes better and better because he never gives up in a fight....but we noypis are suckers for those kinds of anime anyway (at least i am).
naruto's success can be seen by the way people in my community interact with each other. one time, as i was going to the store to buy my daily provisions of junk foods, five boys rushed by, all screaming "naruto ya, naruto ya!!". you don't see that everyday. it's a testament to the success of the show because you just don't see people running and screaming "deal or no deal na!!.."
then, naruto has become very common conversation fare. in my school, where territories are determined by courses, and friendships are limited by blocks since everyone is prejudiced, people from all courses are seen talking about naruto. a nursing student stops a BS Comsci student to ask for details of episode 123, and an organization featured naruto episodes in the hallway, to great success. with naruto, courses and status does not matter. all are equal in the sight of the hokage.
the classroom is not exempted. my friend, marc, having introduced me to naruto way back, is delighted to see such appreciation from the people. he's like a proud papa, the way he's acting. it's easier to talk about this things since everybody listens to you and starts talking.
as the official anime freak of the class, many has made it a point of stopping me in hallways to ask if i had the complete series of naruto. i have been asked this question by six different people from different sections and courses. i am not irritated or anything. i am actually flattered that people would consider me as a source of anime pleasure. it's a reputation i have been nurturing since college in hopes of becoming popular (harhar). mababaw lang talaga kaligayahan ko =^^=v
unfortunately, i don't have the whole series of naruto, and this painfully reminds me that i am a struggling anime fan without pockets to indulge my hobbies.
i'm glad to see that anime is finally coming back, not yet to its former glory, but we're getting there. but then it's hell to be an anime fan in the philippines.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
back to the old roots
i give up. i can't find a skin that suits my need and personality. so for now, i am going back to the old blogspot look, many thanks to the available templates. no more cboxes and fancy navigation.
speaking of going back to old roots, school is rearing it's ugly head again. thankfully, this will be my last year in college and then i am off to become another statistic in my county's unemployment lists. i dread the day where i'll become a useless minority. productivity is something that i crave. seriously, i don't mind being busy.
and busy is what i'll be this year (eventually). God has expanded my territory and made me president of PSALM. i also became one of the copy editors for the Beacon Publications. either way, i've got a full schedule to for this one. here's to hoping for a better school year. i mean, isn't that what we always wish for?
i have apprehensions in coming back to school, number one of which is waking up. i have gotten so used to sleeping till noon, and there's no way that my biological clock could switch gears that quickly *sweat*. second of all is the prospect (heh, more like, the mathematical certainty) of going back to duty. of all the things that i hate in college, duty takes the top spot. ironic, since that's going to my job in the future.
i have been nursing this desire to take another course soon after i graduate. if by chance i can snag a scholarship along the way, then i'll most definitely be working my way to medical school. but if not, maybe a teacher. then, there's always that desire to go to japan and study.
one thing that i look forward the most in going back to school? allowances. after 2 months of being income-less, i am celebrating the return of my 70 bucks per day allowance, with hopes of saving up for some anime cd's. which reminds me, my salary for the tutoring job i do for my cousin has dried up. it's really frustrating to see money disappear. and i did not even buy anything major yet.
pray for a good school year. good luck and God bless! aim to be the best!
speaking of going back to old roots, school is rearing it's ugly head again. thankfully, this will be my last year in college and then i am off to become another statistic in my county's unemployment lists. i dread the day where i'll become a useless minority. productivity is something that i crave. seriously, i don't mind being busy.
and busy is what i'll be this year (eventually). God has expanded my territory and made me president of PSALM. i also became one of the copy editors for the Beacon Publications. either way, i've got a full schedule to for this one. here's to hoping for a better school year. i mean, isn't that what we always wish for?
i have apprehensions in coming back to school, number one of which is waking up. i have gotten so used to sleeping till noon, and there's no way that my biological clock could switch gears that quickly *sweat*. second of all is the prospect (heh, more like, the mathematical certainty) of going back to duty. of all the things that i hate in college, duty takes the top spot. ironic, since that's going to my job in the future.
i have been nursing this desire to take another course soon after i graduate. if by chance i can snag a scholarship along the way, then i'll most definitely be working my way to medical school. but if not, maybe a teacher. then, there's always that desire to go to japan and study.
one thing that i look forward the most in going back to school? allowances. after 2 months of being income-less, i am celebrating the return of my 70 bucks per day allowance, with hopes of saving up for some anime cd's. which reminds me, my salary for the tutoring job i do for my cousin has dried up. it's really frustrating to see money disappear. and i did not even buy anything major yet.
pray for a good school year. good luck and God bless! aim to be the best!
Sunday, June 04, 2006
the perils of the stool exam
spare a thought for all the medical technologists out there, who suffer the brunt of the hospitals' 'dirty works' everyday. the process of obtaining urine, sputum, blood and, que horror, stool specimens is disgusting as is, but to slosh though other people's undesirable body samples at such close proximity with only a cm thin layer of latex serving as buffer, is nothing short of heroic.
as nursing students, it is required for us to undergo laboratory exams to ensure our serviceability, so to speak, to the hospital we are affiliated with (it's like, so that the patients don't get anythinng harmful from us. but the students' health? oh, fugghedaboutit...). urinalysis i can do. hepa and drug exams? no biggie. sputum? never done that, but 'tis to'lable. but come the damn stool exam, my stomach does major Olympic-standard backflips. This has got to be the yuckiest exam designed by man in white coats with a macabre sense of humor. It's an essential exam for us nurses, where a positive result can mean doomsday for case-deprived students. essential, but still disgusting. poking my own stool is not something i enjoy doing. egad. luckily for me, my stool sample was negative for any parasites. this means no stool-poking-in-the-early-morning-after-laxative-binge-at-night sessions for me, for at least six months.
stool exams are common conversation fare amongst nursing students come enrollment time. some snatches of conversations from people suffering from indigestion, constipation and diarrhea:
"hoy, doys! ya kaga ya bo? miyo de bo tai ha?" (hey, buddy? you defecated yet? i'll have your stool, ok?)
"tiene ya tu tai? dale daw..." (do you have a sample stool yet? c'mon, gimme some..)
"pwede tu ase di miyo stool exam para kumigo?" (can you do my stool exam for me?)
"shit, nukere gat yo kaga. panus de lata ya yo ta kome para pwede lang kaga!" (shit, i can't defecate. i ate spoiled canned goods just to be able to defecate!)
two points: these are disgusting conversation fare and second, food poisoning is a fate better than no duty.
stool exams are unpredictable. for some reasons (like, improper collection, inept technicians, faulty laboratory procedures), they come positive. or worse, the hospital misplaced your sample and they can't find it! either way, you have to undergo the process again..and again...depends on whether lady luck is by your side. this is the case of my brother. as of now, i am eating a plateful of oatmeal in hopes of stimulating my gastrointestinal system to move faster and churn out the blasted feces. thanks to psychological blocks and an irregular defecating schedule,.
in school, we are taught not to be disgusted with our own stool. it's not advisable to show disgust or reprimand young 'uns when they play with their stool, since it'll make them think that their bad and dirty. after all, at that age, children know that everything that comes out from them is theirs, and like, there is nothing wrong if they share it with you. if you do, they may become cleanliness freaks or OC people. it has something to do with Freud's psychosexual theory of development. technically, stool is nothing more but indigested food materials, and ceratin body waste and water. it's something that should be embrace as yours. but it's still disgusting. in this case, my psychosexual development was probably dysfunctional.
as nursing students, it is required for us to undergo laboratory exams to ensure our serviceability, so to speak, to the hospital we are affiliated with (it's like, so that the patients don't get anythinng harmful from us. but the students' health? oh, fugghedaboutit...). urinalysis i can do. hepa and drug exams? no biggie. sputum? never done that, but 'tis to'lable. but come the damn stool exam, my stomach does major Olympic-standard backflips. This has got to be the yuckiest exam designed by man in white coats with a macabre sense of humor. It's an essential exam for us nurses, where a positive result can mean doomsday for case-deprived students. essential, but still disgusting. poking my own stool is not something i enjoy doing. egad. luckily for me, my stool sample was negative for any parasites. this means no stool-poking-in-the-early-morning-after-laxative-binge-at-night sessions for me, for at least six months.
stool exams are common conversation fare amongst nursing students come enrollment time. some snatches of conversations from people suffering from indigestion, constipation and diarrhea:
"hoy, doys! ya kaga ya bo? miyo de bo tai ha?" (hey, buddy? you defecated yet? i'll have your stool, ok?)
"tiene ya tu tai? dale daw..." (do you have a sample stool yet? c'mon, gimme some..)
"pwede tu ase di miyo stool exam para kumigo?" (can you do my stool exam for me?)
"shit, nukere gat yo kaga. panus de lata ya yo ta kome para pwede lang kaga!" (shit, i can't defecate. i ate spoiled canned goods just to be able to defecate!)
two points: these are disgusting conversation fare and second, food poisoning is a fate better than no duty.
stool exams are unpredictable. for some reasons (like, improper collection, inept technicians, faulty laboratory procedures), they come positive. or worse, the hospital misplaced your sample and they can't find it! either way, you have to undergo the process again..and again...depends on whether lady luck is by your side. this is the case of my brother. as of now, i am eating a plateful of oatmeal in hopes of stimulating my gastrointestinal system to move faster and churn out the blasted feces. thanks to psychological blocks and an irregular defecating schedule,.
in school, we are taught not to be disgusted with our own stool. it's not advisable to show disgust or reprimand young 'uns when they play with their stool, since it'll make them think that their bad and dirty. after all, at that age, children know that everything that comes out from them is theirs, and like, there is nothing wrong if they share it with you. if you do, they may become cleanliness freaks or OC people. it has something to do with Freud's psychosexual theory of development. technically, stool is nothing more but indigested food materials, and ceratin body waste and water. it's something that should be embrace as yours. but it's still disgusting. in this case, my psychosexual development was probably dysfunctional.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)