keng turns 3!!!

Last April 26, Keng celebrated her third birthday, only she’s as tall as a 5-year-old already. Her grandmother cooked her the classic Pinoy handa, you know, the spaghetti, barbeque, chicken, etc. I wish I could celebrate a birthday with her, but she always celebrates it abroad, unless I can travel there if I am employed in a long distance moving company, but I’m not. Maybe some other birthdays, we could be together. She’s already having mood swings. haha. There are times when she just doesn’t want to face the webcam, unlike before, when she giggles and smiles every time she sees us on their laptop. There are times though, when she would just show us her new “tricks”, like that cheerleader dance that she learned when her father brought her to watch her uncle’s intrams in schools. Or that new song she is singing with her mom. And Keng is now putting makeup on! Nauna pa sa kin!

I always pray that she grows up to be a fine young woman. I wish I could always be by her side to guide her the best that I could, but I am not. I am just praying that she always gets divine guidance, and I am sure she would. Happy birthday, dear. I love you so much.

our cancer genes

I’ve already shared in my other blog how I discovered that my mom has breast cancer, when I thought she was just a hypochondriac. She talked to me and somehow apologized that all she could give me was her cancer genes. To comfort her, I told her I won’t get cancer, though I have a riskier lifestyle than she has. But who could really tell, right? Her sister also died of a rare cancer, after having survived leukemia when she was a child. I have immediate relatives both in the mother and father side who had various cancers and other dreaded diseases. If I have lots of money, I would get that term life insurance for all of my relatives. My mom actually made fun of her and dad’s sickness. She said, they make a good tandem: a cancer patient and a kidney transplant.

She got a bit more worried when her mother’s sister (her kabarkada) who is just about her age was recently diagnosed also with breast cancer. She felt like it increased the chances that I, her child, and her other sister would get the disease, too. I don’t wanna be stricken with paranoia, but I’m not quite assured I won’t have that disease. Who could really tell, right?

walking on

In this far, far away land, I’ve been walking around for almost the whole day. I never really seem to get tired of walking these days, especially when walking takes my mind off away from things. In a day, I may have walked a mile, and there is only but a hint of tiredness. I may have shed off some pounds already, making those best weight loss supplements useless. Perhaps, when you are seeing some things new, you’ll never notice the weight of your body; you’ll never remember what is. Oftentimes, I hate walking long distances. But now, I would give up so much if I could walk on and on with the sand under my feet.

unknown territory

I felt disoriented in the last couple of weeks. Nowadays, I rarely worry about things (especially about work or auto insurance quotes). I’ve been doing things I never did before, or things I ought not to do. Generally, I am a careful person, hardly adventurous. But lately I’ve been very carefree (careless?). I guess this is my version of living life to the fullest, or perhaps bordering on risking work. Heck, I’ve been moving from one place to the next totally unknown to me. Just guess if this is figurative speech. I’ve been talking to strangers, and there’s not a bit of fear. Guess again. I think I’ve been treading on unknown territory, but I wish I could go back to my own. Figuratively speaking.

without restraint

A professor said that, when you write, you should write with restraint. Avoid writing when your emotions are too full. Or when you can’t get a grip of yourself. Or when your blinded with rage. You can see things clearly at a distance, but not too far. I tried following his advice, except when I am writing for money or for advertisements of back acne treatments. However, it is not because I want to see things “clearly” when I write; it is because I do not want to relive the painful experience too soon. Probably, that is my denial stage.

Finally, I was able to write about mom’s sickness, but I wrote it in a more personal level.

why i hate hospitals

There is just something wrong in staying in a hospital, even if you are not the one confined. Take my case for example. I hate staying in a hospital, and I have several reasons why.

1. Sure, the room is air-conditioned all day, all night. But this new high-tech air-con, for people who hate cold, is just difficult to control—it’s either hot or super cold. It’s either you get suffocated or frozen.
2. Sure, they have hotel-style accommodation in this hospital somewhere in Ortigas. But you can’t rest because people keep on coming in. Nurses come every so often, asking the same questions the other nurse asked just a while back. They wake you up because they have to endorse you to another nurse when they change shifts and explain to the incoming nurse the pronexin or whatever meds you are taking. I wonder if these aren’t on their records. (The doctors, though, are often hard to find.) Then, there are these housekeeping people twice a day, people who deliver meals that come too early, and the people who change the beddings! Argh! You just cannot rest here.
3. And the meals! They have nice presentations, all right, but they don’t exactly taste good. Our patient here says so. There are meals you can buy, though. At a price not worth it.
4. The expenses. Whew!
5. And because you cannot just leave the patient alone and walk around and because there is no sunshine coming in, you get weak every day. Like now, I am already sick.
6. And just the thought that your mom is here gets you depressed.

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A Kick-Ass Movie

I came to the movie with no expectations at all. I would have watched Clash of the Titans, if not for the negative comments, even coming from a grade-schooler. So I went there with just a tiny idea of what the movie was supposed to be. When I saw the posters, I can’t help but think that this might be a B movie, well, because the poster that I saw was too simple…and too colorful.

But I was totally wrong. The title speaks for itself. During the first minutes, you’d think this one would be a comedy film. It has comedy all right, but one that was really dark. And dark comedy and dark fantasy are two of my favorites.

The whole movie is surreal, and most themes are just plainly true. Kick-ass, the character, was a comic-book-fan teen who wonders why nobody tries to be a (super)hero. He said, of all the superhero fans in the world, nobody ever tried to be like one. Oh, how true. So he searched the web for a wet suit, made some online printing, and decided to be a masked hero who doesn’t know how to fight.

Even though Kick-Ass was the name of this boy, all he actually had was his ability to take a beating and a vision. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t hero material. He thought the society needs help, but I don’t think he knew how much. He knew there are bad people out there, but he was naïve on how bad they really are. He thought he understands, but he only knew not quite as much.

Hit Girl was everything Kick-Ass wasn’t. And she was just 11! She was a cute, blonde little girl who was brought up in vengeance by her ex-police/ex-con father. Her playtime was gunfight, and her Barbie doll was a balisong from her father. She was a hard-core killer, with kick-ass moves. At her age, she was already deadly. Seriously.

Her father, Big Daddy, was motivated to kill the cocaine kingpin who set him up and brought him to prison, leaving her pregnant wife alone and desperate and thus committed suicide. He was Anakin Skywalker consumed with hatred. He speaks calmly, but with rage. He loved her child, but there was only one purpose in life: To kill that one man.

The movie has no pretensions, and all I saw was raw truth. Hit Girl didn’t have angst against her father because she “missed” her childhood; in fact, she enjoyed training with him. She is REALLY good in fighting, and she knows about it. And when she kills, she kills without hesitation, without a blink. When she fights, she fights with passion. She is Achilles personified—only she is WAY cooler.

Their whole world is twisted, revolving around greed and vengeance, magnified in a lens. The heroes are the villains, and the villains are the heroes. And in their crazy world much like ours, who’s gonna save them all?

Need for Speed

I was a kid the first and the last time I rode a go kart. It was at the Fiesta Carnival with my two boy cousins. It was such a thrill for me already then, though as far as I remember, the circuit was just plain circle (or square?) and I couldn’t speed up as much as I wanted to.

So the night at the Kart City in Tarlac was the second time I rode a cart. I was so excited and anxious that I was keenly watching all those people cart-driving who came before my turn. I could tell who just wanted to experience the kart and who wanted the real kart experience.

So, when I rode on the cart, I first tested the gas and the brake pedals, driving slowly to see if this cart of mine follows the command of my steering wheel. I guess I could drive this thing, I thought. So, I stepped on the gas and decided to test its speed. I didn’t remember that karts go that fast, considering I was just a kid when I first drove one. I wasn’t as fast or as good a driver as the experienced kart drivers, but I did the fastest that I could. I enjoyed the strong wind on my skin and the feeling that I might hit the boundaries anytime (they were rubber tires). I especially enjoyed the sharp turns without hitting the brakes! If I were on a real car, the car would have turtle-turned and perhaps I would die, with some cheap insurance to compensate for my death. But the kart design was a genius. I wondered how they built it in such a way that it never seemed to flip no matter how fast and wrong the turn I made. I remembered the thrill I had with some officemates years back, when we tried “playing” with the car in the Villamor area (remember, rico?). Whew! That was one of the carefree (more like careless) moves I did in my life, but I love it. What the heck? We all wanted to defy gravity some time. I, for one, want to fly.

In the last few laps, I removed my helmet. I wanted to feel the speed on my face.

(P.S. In this place, you can drink and drive.)

what’s happening, anyway?

In a month, I haven’t watched or listened to the news. This is abnormal, really. The first and last thing I do every day is listen to the news. I like talking about current events, both the funny and the annoying. I haven’t even checked newspapers to see the latest showbiz news or see philadelphia inquirer jobs. I suddenly lost my used-to-be insatiable interest on what’s happening around. Was it because I couldn’t even have a clear perspective on my own life? Or was it because I got tired of listening to the same old sh*t? Or was it because I no longer give a damn? Now that I think about it, I really don’t know what’s happening.

waiting/stalling

I have cousins and friends who love drinking. Since they started drinking beer, they haven’t stopped. It is a regular thing. I join them whenever I can, though it’s seldom. I also have friends who love smoking weed. And I don’t mind the smell, though I haven’t tried one. Some people mistake me for a ganja user, but I haven’t really smoked one. I am not judging people who use them; most of them I know are good people. They smoke for different reasons. Several nights ago, one friend insisted that I tried to smoke one. I have virgin lungs, he said. He was an intelligent man and tried talking me into it. He told me that cigarettes are worse because it has nicotine, that it isn’t really bad for the health (i.e., in case I didn’t have an NC health insurance yet), and that they would ensure that I am in good hands with them. I’ve already heard (and wrote a paper) the things he said, except the last of course. And I actually believe that he had good intentions on insisting. His real concern was that he wanted me to see things I’ve never seen before—-more like to open my mind on things I haven’t thought about. I believe him; I know that. While going home, he seriously asked me why I didn’t want to try. I said, I would, but not this time. He said, life is so short, and the universe as we know it may just end soon. I said, I’m just waiting for the right moment, and I’d just know it when it comes. Then I added, when I do this now, there’s nothing else to look forward to, there’s nothing else to try.