Sentimental Fool

Since my internet time practically disappeared, I suddenly had a lot of free time to burn this past week. I’ve finally finished two novels that I had no interest in reading anymore. I was so bored, I actually read something uninteresting to pass the time. I watched DVDs of old films that I haven’t watched. Would you believe that I’ve just watched Liar, Liar, even though it was released… what? 10 years ago? I completely ignored all those reruns on HBO because I did not find the movie interesting. I also got to watch Hollywood Homicide, which didn't appeal to me at all when it was released four years ago... I found both movies entertaining. It’s funny how we see hidden treasures during those few instances when we have some time to spare.

One afternoon, I decided to clean up my cabinet. The one where I store all my gadgets, books, toys from childhood, plus a whole lot of other junk. Junk is right. I had so much trash in there, I don’t know why I kept those stuff. Empty bottles of perfume. What was I thinking? Would I fill those bottles up with water, thinking I could make some diluted scent? Notebooks from elementary, high school, college. Was I thinking of reviewing all those lectures that seem pretty trivial these days? Old exam papers, report cards, probably to remind me that I was such a genius back then. Tickets to some forgotten programs, concerts, plays… to the trash they all went. Invites to birthdays, debuts, then later on weddings and baptisms. I kept all those even the invites from people I’m not even close to! I couldn’t help but smile looking at some of them. They reminded me of such beautiful memories. I kept the invites from close friends, and threw the rest away. I saw a box of old letters. I read most of them again. I laughed, I smiled. One letter I almost cried. Letters about friendship, love, sadness. Promises of staying together, words saying it was all over. Letters of beginnings, letters of endings. A huge part of my life, enclosed in one small box. And I couldn’t throw away even one of them. I’m such a sentimental fool.

And all those toys that regarded as treasures years ago… I’m thinking of actually giving some away to make room. I could use all that space for other things. I would’ve thought that would be crazy if I did that years ago. But I have to let go of a lot of things to make room for things that I need in the present. It can be blissful swimming in the seas of nostalgia, but there’s not much to gain when we keep on clinging in the past. It’s about time I get rid of all the excess baggage in my life. Instead of keeping me afloat, much of that weight only seems to bring me down.

Stone Age

Crap! Our broadband connection at home is busted for more than a week already. The ISP says there’s a problem in the whole area. We’ve been calling them everyday to complain but they keep giving the same answer--- we’re working on it. Bullshit. I have a friend who worked as on of the agents answering complaints from customers. He says they follow some script, and they say anything in order to make the customers put down their phones. And when they say calls are being recorded? Chances are they’re not. Some calls are indeed recorded and monitored, but very few of them are. And they are recorded at random. Typical of a company to cut corners here and there. No wonder I still can’t connect to the internet at home! The agents on working for our piece of shit ISP keep on feeding us lies!

I tried to connect to the net using a dial up server. After waiting for each page to load for what seemed like an eternity, I gave up. All that waiting just made my blood boil more! I wonder how I ever managed to surf the net all those years in the past with a dial up connection! Seriously, it’s crazy to even think that I used to wait 20-30 minutes to download one song, and up to 3 days downloading the video. I can’t even load my profile on Facebook, I had to check several times if my browser crashed down or something! Nothing seemed to be happening! Maybe in the past slow connections would do since pages weren’t so multimedia heavy before, but it seems like an exercise in futility using a dial up server these days. Add the fact that i experienced numerous disconnections and busy tones--- trying to surf the net this way can really test one's patience! I feel as if I’m transported back to the stone age!

I’m actually surfing the net now at a friends house. I had to travel for several miles just to get an internet connection. LOL. Some may think I’m wasting gas, but I say it’s all worth it . Surfing the net everyday became a habit for me. It has been a part of my daily routine, together with eating, sleeping, taking a bath… I seem a bit disconnected without my daily internet fix.

Teeth

Out of boredom, I've been watching random videos in Youtube for the past hour. Then I saw this trailer for a movie called Teeth. Here's a synopsis from IGN.com.

High school student Dawn (Jess Weixler) works hard at suppressing her budding sexuality by being the local chastity group's most active participant. Her task is made even more difficult by her bad boy stepbrother Brad's (John Hensley) increasingly provocative behavior at home. A stranger to her own body, innocent Dawn discovers she has a toothed vagina when she becomes the object of violence. As she struggles to comprehend her anatomical uniqueness, Dawn experiences both the pitfalls and the power of being a living example of the vagina dentata myth.

The premise is so preposterous that it's funny. The fact that the actors act so serious makes it even more hilarious. It's described as a horror-comedy, and it's supposed to have won some award at some festival, so I guess it IS good. I wonder if this will ever be shown in local cinemas. lol.

I must say, I can relate to the look of horror in the faces of those guys. I would probably be even more horrified if I was in their place. hehe.

The Rebuff-er

Rejection is hard to swallow. It's hard enough for guys to get rejected when they ask girls out on dates. Even the nice approach--- "I think it's better if we would just remain friends", can really burst one's ego. I imagine how difficult it must be when girls get rejected. Although they're quick to deny it, girls are so much more emotional and vulnerable when compared to guys. A few of my closest friends are girls, and when they are turned down, they are DEVASTATED. Rejection isn't something that's easy to handle.

Just moments ago, a girl asked me out. I was surprised. Although I had a clue that she liked me--- constant text messages about nothing, hearing her friends teasing here about me, her friends posting hints on her blog... I always saw her as this shy girl who would never do anything this bold. Her friends are probably to blame. "In this day and age, it's okay for girls to ask guys out", "go for it! you'll never know if you don't ask him", "you should be confident! you're prettier than most girls!"... comments like that probably got to her. Thing is, I don't see her in the way she sees me. I only see her as a friend. I'm not even remotely attracted to her. Knowing how hard it is for girls to get rejected, how can I say no?

This isn't the first time it happened. It doesn't happen most of the time though... most girls get the subtle hints I'm giving out, that it just can't happen. Changing the topic when it veers towards dating. Treating them as if we're just pals. Talking to them about guy stuff, about gross things that you wouldn't dare mention to someone you're attracted. Telling them whom I like, the type of women I like. But sometimes, girls don't get those subtle hints. Or they do get those hints, but they tell themselves "what if I'm just misinterpreting him". Though I find it very difficult, sometimes I have to say it out loud, just to make it perfectly clear. I actually went out on a date before with someone I didn't like, because I didn't want to embarrass her. The encounter was pretty awkward. What's more, everything changed after that. It wouldn't have mattered whether or not I rejected her. It could never be the same again. When it's not out in the open, it's easy to dismiss everything as plain assumptions. When they just resort to anonymous letters, anonymous text and voice messages, anonymous emails, it's easy to ignore even when it's easy to figure out who they really are. Even when they're giving out obvious hints, even when their friends tell me directly, it's still easy to fool oneself into thinking otherwise. But when the cat's out of the bag, it's hard to close my eyes and pretend it isn't there.

30 minutes have passed and I still haven't replied to her message. I'd hate to be blunt, but maybe I have to say those words I myself hate to hear, that "we'd be better off as friends".

Still, I know we can never be friends like we did before. We can deny that it's there, we can say that nothing has changed, but that little bit of awkwardness would linger and probably remain.

Crap. Why do some people have to complicate things?

The Trade

We all have skeletons in our closets. Here's one of mine.

I think I'm addicted to prostitutes. Not really addicted to the point that I have to go to rehab. I don't often pick up call girls on the streets... just a few times. Less than five. Okay, maybe more than five... maybe 10. I kinda lost count, but definitely NOT more than 10!

As if numbers really matter. The fact remains that I participate in this horrible trade. Jaws often drop when I tell some people about it. They say I'm not bad looking, I could definitely get sex without having to pay for it. And it won't be with just anyone. They say I could probably get any person I wanted.

Why would I pay for something I can get for free? For one thing, most of those girls on the streets are experts in their field. They could literally blow you away. And since you're paying, you could just lie down and let them do all the work. You can just lie still and enjoy whatever it is she's doing. You'd feel like a king. You don't have to return the favor, you don't have to worry whether or not she's having a great time. What can I say? I'm not offended when someone says I'm lousy in bed because I really am lousy, I guess. That's why it feels better when they do all the work. I don't have to worry about performance and shit.

And when my conscience bothers me, I remind myself that these girls were driven to their professions because of poverty. They have no other means. All options were tried, they had to sell their bodies as a last resort. This way, I am helping them. I know it's sick to think of it as some sort of charity work, but it can be effective in fooling the mind.

I'm not really addicted. They say it's normal for guys to have sex with prostitutes at least once in their lives. Heck, I know a few guys who have paid for sex many more times than I have. But I know that if I had more money I could give in to addiction. God knows how excited i get once I see those girls waiting on the streets. When there are so many of them, littering the streets, all clamoring for your attention. My senses light up instantly, then all my reasoning disappears. I do stupid things, like giving promises, offering more money, not wearing condoms for crying out loud, even if I'm very much aware of the risks. Doctors do indeed make the worst patients. If i had more money, i may not be able to stop.

More than giving in to pleasure and lust... maybe I also give in to loneliness. During those late nights, those girls seem to offer companionship aside for intimacy. Most of them have raised their eyebrows when I blab about several musings about life... When I tell them how lonely I get, when I admit that I feel so alone at times. Then they'll try to cheer me up, try to think of inspirational words they can say, try to give sound advice. And then I try to fool myself, pretending to believe those words are genuine, even though I'm aware that all the charades are part of the package that I'm paying for. It's devastating to realize that i can stoop down to such levels at times. Often there are people we can readily call when we are down in the dumps, when we are drowning in sorrow... but there are times when no friends can dig you up from the grave you've managed to bury yourself in, no friends to pull you up from the abyss you've gotten yourself into. There are times when I feel that there's nothing left for me, that I have to pay not just for sex, but for happiness, companionship, comfort, and security as well.

... even when people are practically giving those things away for free.

Order Sheet

I really don't understand why some people keep on barking orders. Is it so hard to try and exert some effort by doing something you're capable of doing, as opposed to making others do those things for you?

My brother just got home. H e went to his room not carrying anything. A few seconds later, our maid appeared, carrying what looked like three heavy bags, plus a lot of paper bags. Just when she dropped my brother's things in his room, he told her that there were still paper bags in his car.

I wonder if it's something hereditary. My grandmother bought this gadget, some sort of beeping device. Just one press of a button, then this annoying beep would be heard repeatedly in our house until she pressed the button a second time. By that time, one of our maids would've already asked her what she wanted. It wouldn't be so annoying if I didn't hear that beep every 10 minutes. It's understandable because she does need assistance in almost everything since she's a bit weak these days. But in many instances, those calls are for nonsense things.

And let's not forget my dad. With the way he keeps on barking orders, you'd think he was some quadriplegic who's incapable of almost anything. Give me a glass of water. Get my shoes. Bring my slippers... even when the said things are right there in front of him! Either he gets some ego boost by seeing others doing things for him, or he's just incredibly lazy. During our community work in the province 2 years ago, a member of my foster family asked if she can apply as a helper in our house. Knowing the torture she'd have to endure, I just told her we weren't looking for one. Seeing how our maids only last for a few months, she probably won't last long either.

At times I wondered if it's a gender thing. I don't mean to sound sexist, but back when I was working, the female residents were the ones who keep giving orders. My female seniors were the ones who keep on pestering us with things to do. We'd receive calls and text messages every five minutes asking for updates, checking out our progress in the tasks they've given. Among my batchmates, the female residents are the ones the interns complain about. Who wouldn't? They'd ask them to do even the simplest things. Personally, I don't give out orders. I try to do things myself. In the emergency room, I'd do blood extractions myself, fill out requests--- even if those tasks are assigned to interns. If someone offers their help, I ask them first if they're not supposed to be doing anything else. If there's none, then I'll oblige. When things are too hard for me to do alone, I still don't give orders to anyone. I ask for help instead. There's a big difference. No wonder why a lot of interns were saying I shouldn't have left. Ms. ____, Ms. _____-, and Ms. ________ should have left instead. LOL.

Is it a gender thing? In the hospital setting where doctors, especially surgeons, are still predominantly male... do females feel the need to give out orders to ascertain their superiority? From another perspective, barking out orders can also be seen as acknowledging your weakness--- making others do what you can't do yourself. Where's the superiority there?

Is it about social hierarchy? Do people feel the need to give out orders to strengthen their foothold in their positions? To prove that one is superior than another? Some of these orders are indeed part of job descriptions, but often orders are taken beyond their limits, many are prone to abuse. Many would rather give orders to someone they view as inferior, rather than to ask people for help. They'd rather not risk having others view them as equals, or even inferior thmeselves.

Gym Gloss

It's been almost a year since I last went to the gym. I barely had time to eat and sleep during residency. Exercising was definitely not a priority--- it wasn't even an option. I didn't renew my gym membership because of this. Now that I have time, I thought of renewing my membership--- push-ups and sit-ups in my bedroom can only take me so far, after all. Since I have managed to save some money, I figured I might as well check out the "better" gyms. The gym where I worked out was okay--- the equipment was enough, the staff was friendly... there's no hanky panky going on in the locker rooms either. lol. But i hated the fact that they were cost cutting, and they weren't even discreet about it. The air conditioner is frequently turned off. They don't turn it on during weekends. And when it's on, it never gets cold enough. I don't mind sweating, but it often gets very humid in the gym, i practically get exhausted even when I'm standing still. It gets difficult to finish your routine when you get tired because of the heat.

So I went to check out a nearby branch of one of those famous gym franchises. It's like being in a whole new world. The facilities were top notch. The staff was also accommodating (maybe too accommodating--- they were practically pushing that membership form down my throat). And most importantly, the air conditioner was on, and the entire gym was cool! It's like being in gym heaven!

What I didn't like was the crowd. For one thing, the gym seemed a bit overcrowded. Maybe I came during peak hours... still it would be difficult to work out with so many people around. And a lot of them were not even working out! The most populated room was the lounge where people were just sitting and chatting. I didn't know people go to the gym to socialize these days! If they wanted to just hang out, wouldn't they rather go to a bar or some coffee shop? Another populated place is the locker room. It's understandable if everyone just finished working out and they are freshening up before leaving... but there were a lot of people just sitting there, with their cell phones out, either calling someone or sending text messages. Can't they do those things outside? I think they'd rather do that in the locker rooms because they're enjoying the locker scenery as well.

And what's with the clothes? Designer brands were everywhere. Some don't even seem appropriate for working out. It's like being in some sort of fashion show, wherein my usual attire of plain white t-shirt and basketball shorts just won't do. A lot of women were heavily made up, a lot were dressed to attract attention. Don't people go to the gym just to work out these days? Apparently, the gym has evolved into a place where people are on the lookout for prospective dates, some sort of singles bar in disguise.

I'm having second thoughts. Maybe I'm better off at my old gym. These franchise gyms seem to be all gloss with little substance. i guess because of the exorbitant membership fees, members expect them to be more than just places to exercise. If all I want is to work out, those lesser know gyms seem to be the better option. In those little known gyms, working out is the primary concern. if I wanted to socialize, I'll be better off elsewhere.

Light Bearers

It's funny how you can waste time with some people, doing trivial things, or doing nothing at all. It's amazing how you never get bored with certain people, no matter how often you see them, how often you talk to them. Even when there are no new experiences to share, we're content with just small talk, about things that don't even matter in the long run.

Beyond sharing the same interests, true friends are those whom you can count on through thick and thin. They're the ones who remain present when you are at your worse. They are the ones who are there by your side when all the world is against you. They're not the ones who leave you when you make mistakes, instead they help you correct your mistakes. They're not the ones who are quick to judge you, they readily accept you for who you are. You can count on them for almost anything, and they won't expect anything in return.

That's what people say when you ask them to define true friends. Beyond all those clichés, friends are also the people who make you feel better, who gives you a brighter perspective in life, even when they don't do anything. A simple smile can give comfort, and when you look into their eyes you see utmost sincerity. No words are needed for you to understand each other. Their mere presence give you the strength to hold on.

As they say, lovers come and go, but friendship can last a lifetime. When lovers stay, isn't it true that they remain by your side because they've become your friends as well?

I am thankful that I have a few such people present in my life--- people that I can call true friends. Those few people who really understand me. Few people that I can ask to stay with me as I quietly watch the sunset, without bitching how boring it is, even if they really think it's such a waste of time. When the sun has set and clouds fill the sky, they give me hope and shine a light as the world is enveloped in darkness.

Bitter

I was about to take a bath when my ex called me on my cellphone. Yup, that's right. THAT ex. No, I don't have her number stored on my phone. Can I be blamed if I still remember her number? It rang for about 5 seconds, and then she hung up.

I was stupefied.

Dumbfounded.

Frozen.

I couldn't move for about a minute or so.

Why the heck would she call, after all this time? I couldn't think of any possible reason. What happened between us was so long ago, I'm sure I wasn't mad at her anymore. I'm sure I was no longer in love with her either. I don't even want to talk to her. but a few minutes after she called... I imagined holding her hand, touching her face, kissing her lips... Still, I'm sure I don't feel anything towards her. Not anymore. I'm ambivalent. That was just plain curiosity that I felt. I'm just wondering, why the heck would she call?

Then I remembered her favorite food.

Her favorite dress.

Her favorite restaurant.

Her favorite movie.

The places we went.

The place were it all began.

How it all ended.

My curiosity got the better of me, even though I didn't want to make any contact with her... So after an hour I sent her a text message:

"?"

simple as that.

After about 15 minutes, she replied.

"Hi! I'm just updating my phone book! May I know who this is please? =)"

...


Bitch.

That mother f*cking good for nothing BITCH!

Updating my phone book my ass! Would she store any phone number in her phone book without an accompanying name? And let's say my number wasn't stored in her phone book. Why would she dial my number? WTF?! was it written in some random scratch paper, that she had to find out who's number it was? Or did she dial the number from her memory, completely forgetting that it was I who owned that number? If that's the case, then she's not just a good for nothing bitch, she's also one incredibly STUPID bitch!

And if I haven't forgotten her number, I doubt if she would forget mine. She was able to memorize my number way before I was able to memorize hers!

Or maybe that was a prank, orchestrated with those good for nothing stupid skanks that she calls her best friends? They just had to know how I would react. It would be extremely funny to see how I would react.

Maybe I'm just over reacting. I was caught off guard, so maybe I'm being extremely paranoid as a result. but if I'm not...

I hope she loses both of her precious ovaries.

I hope they all burn in hell.

Pimping the Bricks

Of all the toys I've played with during my childhood years, Lego toys were my favorite. Dino Riders action figures were a far second. I just can't get enough of those bricks. I couldn't wait to open each box and then follow the instructions on how to build those miniature buildings. Then I'd tear the whole thing down and make some original creation.

For the lack of anything else to surf while I'm waiting for some files to finish downloading, I visited the Lego official website for the first time. WOW. The latest revisions of the Lego castle, city, and space lines were amazing. The line up during my childhood years looked archaic in comparison. Then I looked at the other products.

Star Wars Lego? Harry Potter Lego??? Batman Lego?!!!

WTF. Lego has pimped those bricks! Since when did they have to resort to product licensing to sell those toys? Isn't the Lego brand enticing enough by itself?!

I'm in no authority to say what children like these days. Maybe Lego toys are viewed as uncool or passé these days. Maybe it's a business decision to keep up with the times, so as to prevent the company from going belly up.

It's just that... I can't help but feel that Lego and some of those licensed characters are mismatched. Star Wars looks pretty okay... It's quite similar to their space line... I'm no Harry Potter expert, but those Lego Men Harry Potter replicas all look so stupid. And look at the Batman Line up:




Batman has never looked so... UN-menacing.








The Joker has never looked so silly. Not funny at all. He doesn't look psychotic, he just looks dumb.








So the Penguin isn't vertically challenged anymore? He has Lego to thank for that.







And Catwoman... has never looked so UN-sexy... so UN-seductive. She looks like a 50 year old overweight pimp for crying out loud.





No doubt it's a top selling line. But the whole thing looks so forced and mismatched, i can't help but think of the whole line up as visual reminders the Lego brand has sold out.

Emotional Vampires

This could be a sort of post-halloween entry.

I was having coffee with a friend earlier today, and she was complaining about friends of hers who were "emotional vampires". I've read the term somewhere before, but that was the first time I've heard someone use it in actual conversation. Definitions vary. Her definition was any person who can get you all bogged down with their emotional turmoils, that they can literally suck all the joy and life out of you. She then goes on wondering how she can be some sort of an "emotional vampire magnet". A lot of her friends allegedly run to her for comfort and advice whenever they have problems, despite her harsh and unapproachable exterior. I know what she meant. She's not the type of person who has the patience to listen to another person babbling for hours about his or her problems. I can't even imagine how she can be sincere with the advice she gives, because I'm sure deep inside she's thinking of something else she'd rather be doing. lol. I know she's not comfortable listening to another person's woes, because she's an "emotional vampire" herself. For the past year or so, ever since I got to know her, I'm the person she calls whenever she's pissed about something, or when she's drowning in despair. Her reasons might be superficial, but I knew those reasons are a big deal to her, so I try to listen intently each time, I and I had to make time even if I was very busy with a lot of things. She said we became close because I was the only one she knew who was willing to listen. Her other friends had bigger problems--- they'd rather not bear the burden of the problems of others when they have problems themselves.

For the past few months, I guess I was slowly transforming into some sort of an emotional vampire... but I always fight the urge to become one. A lot of times, I've been tempted to call friends, just to hang out. But I seldom poured out my problems. I don't want to pull them down into the depths of my depression. Instead, I keep a happy facade. At times, I'm already content just sitting quietly with the company of friends, looking at some view, relishing the serenity. I seldom open up because there's this lingering doubt. Very few people are willing "victims". Very few people really care, and even less give genuine advice. Are they really sincere when they ask the questions "what's the problem?", "can I do anything to help?". Or are most of them like the friend I was with earlier, pretending to offer a hand, a shoulder to cry on--- when in truth they are doings these things reluctantly? I'm thinking it's not fair to share our burdens with others. A few drinks even when alone, while listening to EMO rock can numb everything anyway, albeit temporarily. When I really want to express myself, this blog is an effective outlet. I can express my thoughts without worrying if I would pull down others with my emotions. Whoever chooses to read my entries do so voluntarily. I'm not forcing anything on them. And whoever gives advice also do so voluntarily. They give advice because they really want to, not because they were forced to... not because they feel it's their duty or obligation. That's just the way I am. I never ask for help in anything unless I really can't finish the task on my own. The best help one can get is the one that is given willingly. Anything offered without sincerity may result to more harm than good. When it comes to emotions, those who offer false sincerity could only make you linger in the shores of melancholy, perhaps even drown you in your ocean of despair.

Y: The Last Man

I've already finished reading all volumes of the Sandman graphic novels last December. Afterwards, I immediately planned on reading other titles from the Vertigo line of DC comics--- the so called "comic books for adult audiences", when schedule permits. Upon looking at the titles available at the Vertigo web site, 2 titles piqued my interest. Preacher and Y: The Last Man. Both titles also had very favorable reviews from both critics and comic book fans, so I figure I might as well check them out. Since I can't seem to find copies of preacher locally, I guess Y: The Last Man won by default. hehe. I bought the first two volumes last week to try it out.

The series is still currently ongoing. I think there's one more issue left before the series finishes its run. Each volume contains roughly 5 chapters, so I may have twelve volumes to go through. The premise is familiar enough. We've heard it all before in some form or another... What if some sort of virus or plague swept through the entire world, effectively destroying every living thing with a Y chromosome? Everything, except for one human male--- Yorick Brown, and his pet monkey Ampersand. This scenario may be what every teenage boy's wet dreams are made of, but the series never forays into the obvious sexual trappings that it can easily lead to :) The concept may not be entirely novel, but the way the story is told is highly original. This is science fiction at its best. There are enough twist and turns to keep readers glued to the pages. There's enough action and drama, we can't help but emphatize with these characters.

The compilations are cheaper compared to others (like Sandman for instance), so we shouldn't really expect much in terms of packaging and extra features. The paper quality looks cheap, slightly rough and obviously recycled. In terms of compilations, this is as "bare bones" as it gets. There's no introduction, no afterword, no artwork (except for a few sketches at the end of volume 2). It's as if they simply put several issues together and bound them into a softcover. The artwork isn't very good either. I wouldn't say that it's amateurish... it's just that it's very ordinary. The cover artwork for each issue is actually pretty good, they should've gotten the same artist to draw the contents as well. But I'm not buying it for the artwork. I'm not buying it to show off to my friends. The series has remained on the best seller list because of the story, and that's the same reason why I'll continue reading it.

I heard a movie is in production--- the rights have been bought by New Line Cinema. And there's a chance that it's not going to suck because Brian Vaughan, the creator of the series, is also writing the screenplay! Shia LaBeouf is also rumored to star. If true, then I agree with that casting choice. After seeing him in Transformers, I'd say he'd make the perfect Yorick Brown. :) That's another movie to look forward to in te near future.

I'm off to buy volume 3 now. :)

Hit and Miss

I don't even know why I'm posting this.

random ramblings. Nothing logical. just thinking these random thoughts out loud.

Saturday night. I went to a bar with some friends. Got drunk again. Sometime that night, I've managed to hook up with some girl. I can't even remember her name. I'm not even sure if I asked her name in the first place. I left my friends at around 3 AM and we went someplace else. Somewhere private. It was nothing special. It was good, but not extraordinary. At one point she mentioned that she seemed to be doing most of the work, which made me realize that I am indeed lousy in bed. lol. When we were done, we ended up cuddling--- which is out of the ordinary for me when all I want is something casual. I usually wash up and then head for home after a one time gig. I'm not the type who's into hugging and cuddling and all that sweet stuff. I love yous were exchanged, but that was just the alcohol talking. There's no way it could've been love. Before we parted ways, we decided not to exchange numbers... it was just casual after all. If i wasn't so intoxicated then, I would've thought there was sadness in her face. She said it's kind of a pity that we met under such circumstances. If we met on some other occasion, we could've been friends, or maybe something more. I agreed... but meeting the way we did, maybe we were not meant to share something deeper. She didn't live nearby. She was just on vacation when we met. She'll be leaving the next day. I'm pretty sure I'd never see her again. Which is just fine, since it was only a one time thing. There's nothing more to it. Or so I thought.

When I woke up, I had this weird feeling. I had a minor headache, but I knew I was already sober. I felt a bit lonely. I felt regret. While intoxicated with alcohol, I wasn't capable of deep thought. Once sober--- I felt that there was something there. There was a connection. A CONNECTION. I couldn't have an instant connection with just anyone. We talked about life, plus some other profound stuff. And we cuddled. All of those things no one would do during casual encounters. It could have been something deeper. I never thought that something deep could come out of something casual, that's why I never entertained the possibility. It would be laughable finding love in such circumstances, right? Such scenes are straight out of those romantic comedies. I'm not romantic, so why am I now romanticizing things? Was there really something there? An opportunity that I could've grabbed, but then chose to miss? Or am I just seeing illusions? I'm seeing something that's not really there, because of a subconscious need to be in a relationship even if I tell myself that I don't need to be in one?

It's crazy to entertain such silly thoughts. It's even crazier that I'm dwelling on them. I can't seem to let go of the fact that there was something there. There was that possibility that could've been a reality. It would be easier to imagine if only I got her number. and it would have helped a lot if I at least remembered her name.

Awakening

I've been watching the news channels during the wee hours of the morning these past few weeks. I prefer not watching those TV series. If I got hooked, I may not have time for anything else again. LOL. So it's either news or documentaries. Images of terrorist attacks continue to litter the headlines. Bombings. Mass Murder. Images of people wounded and hurt. Along with persistent feeling that i wanted to help. I wanted to do something, instead of simply watching their plight comfortably seated in front of the TV screen at home.

Earlier this week, while i was walking along my neighborhood, I bumped into someone who knew me. She was the one who saw me first, and she immediately ran towards me. This woman whom I wasn't familiar with, smiling, running towards me. Turns out, she was the mother of one of my patients during my trauma rotation. She mentioned her child's name and pretended to remember. Of course I could not exactly remember who he was, because of the huge number of patients I've encountered for the past few years. Months have passed, and yet she could not stop thanking me for treating her child so well. I was with my grandmother then, and there was an expression of undeniable pride on her face.

Yesterday, we went to the province for our annual tradition of honoring our departed loved ones. This was one tradition i never looked forward to. I remembered thinking that I'd rather be on duty at the hospital than spend the whole day doing next to nothing in the family mausoleum. Our ancient ancestors were buried there--- people I never (or barely) knew. Personally, I would rather visit my departed grandfather's grave in the city. But traditions are hard to break, i guess.

Back in June, one of our consultant's patients was a familiar face. He occasionally worked as our carpenter, fixing things around the house. He was diagnosed as a possible case of gastric cancer--- a diagnosis that never became definitive because they opted to go home instead of finishing all the necessary work-ups. He lived near the mausoleum. Presently, he was weaker and thinner compared to when I last saw him. He asked several questions, which I am not in a liberty to answer because I was no longer affiliated to the hospital.

These past few days seemed to have been enlightening. I know that I still don't want to be a doctor, and I silently cringe hen I think about making a career out of it for the rest of my life... but all those years spend in med school has given me the knowledge and skills to make a difference. It seems like an awful waste to not use them. It even seems shameful. Maybe there's a reason why I've found myself walking along this path, begrudgingly. What use are our talents and skills if we do not use them? Not everyone is a doctor. In life, we have different roles to play, we have different skills to contribute. I can't just sit back and do nothing, knowing that I am capable of doing something. I may be uncertain of this medical career, but I am certain of one thing--- I do want to help. Nothing beats the emotional high one gets when you become aware that you have made a difference in other people's lives, that you have made their lives easier... better. I may feel "forced" into a career that I never really wanted to be a part of, but i never feel that I am forced to reach out and help another.

If only I've managed to keep things in the proper perspective, i wouldn't have stalled as i traveled along this path. Even when we take all things into consideration, all those sacrifices we have to make, all those walls we have to hurdle... having a medical career is still rewarding. Going back wouldn't be too bad at all.