Prinsesa’s Anatomy

This is still in relation to my last post ‘is it okay to date a friend’s ex?’.

As I’ve said, in that article I’ve read, there are many mind-boggling questions really worth pondering. In the course of my days, I’ve proven that questions are easiest to answer only when we are not the person really being asked [like we just heard someone ask it to another person on the bus or wherever], or given that the question was being thrown at us, it is easier to answer if we haven’t experienced such thing.

Most of the time, the hardest questions are the simple ones. The questions which people assume that we know the answer by heart because they seem pretty simple, but in reality the answer is lost in our subconscious or in other cases, we just don’t have a clue.

On the same page as the question ‘is it okay to date a friend’s ex’ is a query that also really, really caught my attention, which goes this way: how do you know if s/he is THE One?

I thought it was a simple question, but you know what? When I tried to ponder on it and come up with my own answer, I was just at a loss! I didn’t know what to say, or maybe I do but I just can’t put it into words. Really it felt ridiculous.

So here’s what I did: I asked my man a while ago as we were eating lunch about what he thought was the answer to that question and our conversation went this way:

ME: Sa tingin mo paano mo ba malalaman kung siya na yung para sayo? [How do you know if the person is THE one for you?]

MY MAN: [ponders for a moment...] Paano nga ba?… Ewan ko ba. Hindi ko malaman! [laughs and looks at me softly.]

ME: Eeeehhhh! Ano ba namang sagot yun? Sagutin mo na kasi yung seryoso. [What kind of answer was that? Answer it seriously.]

MY MAN: Sige, sige. Hmmm… [Okay, okay.]

[thinking...]

[still thinking...]

[still thinking...]

ME: Ang tagal naman! [You're taking too long!]

MY MAN: Eh kasi basta alam ko na ikaw na yun! [I just know that you're THE One!]

ME: Ganun ba? [Is that so?]

[secretly melts inside...]

MY MAN: Eh ikaw anong sagot mo dun? [How about you, how do you answer your question?]

ME: Ewan ko, hindi ko nga din maisip eh. Mahirap pala talaga sagutin. [I don't know, I can't think of anything. It's really a tough question.]

MY MAN: O tingnan mo na. [See.]

[thinking...]

[still thinking...]

ME: Ah alam ko na! [I know the answer!]

MY MAN: O anong sagot mo? [What is your answer?]

ME: Alam kong ikaw na yun kasi kasi kahit na ikaw na ang pinaka nakakainis na taong nakilala ko, ayaw ko pa rin mawala ka sa tabi ko. [I know you're THE One because even though you are the most annoying person I've ever met, I still want you beside me.]

MY MAN: Ah ganun. Maganda yang sagot mo ha. [Is that so? You have a good answer.]

And we both ended up laughing.

In the end, I guess you know THE One when you can’t think about anyone else, or in other cases, when you can’t think of a number two, three, four, five, and so forth.

As I was waiting for sandman to come, which I say was rather running pretty late last night, I was browsing old magazines I had, scattered earllier that afternoon on the bed by my sister Piapot. There was an interesting article that I forgot I’ve ever read, an interview of various boys and men than answer pretty nice-to-know questions with regards to girls. It may sound a bit childish, but I think men and women, no matter the age or the time they’ve spent together are still puzzled by the nature and behavior of each other.

There are a lot of good questions worth expanding here, but I think I’d start first with a question from that article that read, “What about dating a friend’s ex?”

There were three answers and all of these men said no. The reason: out of respect for their friend. But one was kind of unsure because after that he followed with “if I really like her I’d talk to my friend and ask for his permission.”

I thought about the question and I think my answer would be this: a friend’s ex is fair game if a. your friend is now happily married and lives somewhere far away with her wonderful hubby and chubby kids, b. they’ve been separated for a decade or so, and c. when your friend says it is okay for you to date his/her ex.

Now option C is the most complicated since you don’t really know if the okay of your friend is really okay, okay, or just okay, okay just to get it over with and avoid further discussion, especially when your friend is still single after their break-up. I say you should weigh the life of your friend first, assess her emotional status, and watch oh-so-carefully all her actions, both verbal and non-verbal when you ask about it. At least, that’s what I know of when it comes to women. I’m not really sure how it goes for men. They’re tricky creatures I tell you. I guess you never really now what is fair game for them, since they seem to have this unwritten codes of brotherhood or whatever somewhere.

How about you? Did you have any similar or the exact experience? How did you deal with it? What happened? And at the end of the day, did you find the answer to that mind-boggling question, is it okay to date a friend’s ex?

I’d like to share some news with you people. Two of my posts here in my blog will appear in the official student publication of our university sometime in August. I think I find that very cute. The posts that will be published are Special Hopia, Special Siopao [posted here last July 23] and Bleeding Love [posted on [July 6]. The story behind the publication of these posts are pretty interesting.

Of course you still remember Special Hopia, Special Siopao, after all, it is my last post. I submitted it because I thought it was very cute and inspiring plus I think it is pretty obvious I am so in love with Po. I intended that it be a literary essay, but I learned that it was to be printed as a column, because after I edited it, it turned out that they find it very political, which fits the opinion page perfectly. The thing is, early this academic year, I already told the people in the publication that I did not want to have and continue my column [the name of my column for the past years have been Prinsesa's Anatomy, same as my blog, FYI]. It was funny because when I saw the paper I submitted, the words column po ito, sori! [this is column material sorry!] plus a smiley because they already know I did not want to have a column, but as it turns out, I still have a column. Oh well, still that’s very cute. Imagine Kung Fu Panda as a column that highlights politics, that’s so cool! Even though it just happened by accident, “I’m blinded by its awesomeness”.

The next post Bleeding Love is also an accident. It was not supposed to be in the paper because one, I did not submit it and two, that post is very personal. But since Special Hopia, Special Siopao cannot make it as a literary essay, they had to find one, and it turned out that they liked Bleeding Love when they read it here. I think they find the conversation between my man and the Red Cross personnel very hilarious. If you haven’t read that I think you should, you can still find it here. It’s very funny. Last night, I told my man that Bleeding Love will be published and I think he was as surprised as I am. Oh well. I think we are the official love team of the university now with that post, though he doesn’t go there.

I don’t know how all of you can see the paper. Maybe I can scan it and post it! Hmm… I don’t know. I’d like you to see the illustration that accompany Bleeding Love. It’s very good!

What I really like about me being accidentally in print is the fact that I know for sure that I’d be able to reach out to more people, aside from you wonderful people who read my blog. See, I am amazed by the power of words to make people learn, and feel, and experience even the things outside their reality. I guess, I am just very happy to be able to do and share all this that I write, uh, I mean, type.

To have something special, you just have to believe it’s special.

- Po’s Dad, Kung Fu Panda

I’m not the biggest movie buff, unlike my man who practically watches two or more DVDs at night before going to bed. But when I saw the trailer of Kung Fu Panda, I knew I had to watch it because… I thought the big fat Panda was so cute. But after one run of the movie, I realized it was very beautiful and carried with it so many insights that I practically watched it again, five times.

I was struck by the ’special’ line. I figured, indeed, it is very true. I noticed how people seemed to prefer stuff over others just because it carried the word special like special hopia, or special siopao, or even special isaw [grilled intestines]. But sometimes, we often tend to look too long and hard for that special thing without realizing that we already have that special something all along.

We just have to believe that it is special.

My thoughts about this was stirred when a political student party campaigned in one of my classes. The student running for campus student council president was talking about the well-known battle cries or lines of famous universities in the metro like Animo La Salle or Arriba Letran. Then he asked what was our line in our university. There was silence because we all knew that there was none. We didn’t shout anything special during sports events against other SUCs nor do we chant anything special during events awarding against other competing schools.

It was then that he said that those other schools had a yell simply because they were proud of their school, of where they came from. They feel so special being a part of that institution that they scream its name and glorify it so much. And the reason why we do not have any yell was because we lack school spirit and pride within ourselves.

I figured he was right. Students do not feel special in the university. Maybe because we are but an SUC in the province, or maybe because it was the culture that we’ve adopted from those who came before us. But I realized it was not right. In fairness to our university, there are many things to be proud of, though far from perfect, there are still things within us that are special.

Like the nursing board top notchers that come every year, or the simple fact that we are the largest university in the province, and one of the emerging strongest SUCs in the region though we are the youngest. And I can honestly think of so many, many things to be proud of in the university.

I guess in the end, we just have to believe that we are special. That we have something special. That at the end of the day, the most important part is that we believed.

After all, to have something special, you just have to believe that it is special.

It is human nature, denial, when something threatens us.

My mother was out for a week due to tonsillitis. Well, I’m not really sure if it was just tonsillitis, because it looked like she had the flu at the same time. I was not able to take care of her though because I was staying at the dorm. But she’s fine now. Thank God.

When I came back home last Friday, she was still feeling off and was still having a hard time to speak and her neck was still a bit swollen. As a health care provider, I should have looked after her, made sure to attend to her needs since she is still trying to recuperate. But I did not.

I think what I did was some form of defense mechanism. Denial. That I did not like to see her sick. That I am not used to seeing her ridden in bed. That she was weak and can’t hardly speak, her usual loud voice that echoes around the house gone. She wasn’t cooking or running around the house doing chores. She was just sick in bed. It was even hard for her to eat.

I love my mother so much that my system shut off in reaction to her current state because it threatens me, that it worries me so much, that maybe if I didn’t pay attention to it, it will go away. It was funny because my mother told me my father was actually not paying enough attention to her sickness, or with her needs. I told her it was a defense mechanism. That he did not want her to be sick or stay that way, that he unconsciously pushes her to go back to her normal routines just so he’d be assured that she is okay. I guess that is a normal way to cope, no matter to which side it leans.

Yesterday my mother was able to get off the bed and shower and eat. Then she was ranting because my father was asking her to do her usual stuff and she says she is still sick. She was ranting that mothers have a lesser state than maids because at least maids get a day-off but mothers don’t. I told her it was her fault, it was her who chose the role.

And I am very thankful she did.

This morning she was able to go to church already, to go to the market, and cook. I guess she’s really okay now. And I’m glad. I guess I won’t mind hearing her loud voice very early in the morning. And in no time, I’m sure I’ll forget that she got sick and go back to thinking that she is wonderwoman that when she suddenly falls ill again, I’ll start to wonder again, mothers don’t get sick, do they?

Oh well, it’s just that when your mother is so amazing you can’t help but believe she is battery powered or something.

My younger sister, Ched, had always loved to tell me how uptight I was. That if she had to use pants to illustrate how uptight I was, she said my pants would not even be high at my waist but on top of my chest, barely missing my neck.

C’mon, I can’t be that bad! For example, last Tuesday, I did not attend most of my classes but instead I went out.

Um, well… if going out and eating with your family counts as being a bad ass? Oh well. So much for not being uptight.

It was about 10 am when Ched and our favorite cousin, Kuya Nap, went to my dorm. Well, I just woke up, and it was funny because he accused me of crying because my eyes were all puffy. But seriously, my eyes are really like that in the morning. So I washed up and later found myself in a local cafe where we ate for like two hours, then our parents came and told us that we were eating, again, lunch this time.

It was quite late for lunch, that me and my two sisters had to skip our classes that came at 1 pm. We were laughing about it because we were missing school but instead of friends or an outing to go to we were having lunch with our family. It was also during this time when I received a text message from Richmond telling me that he was about to go to the hospital for his thyroid ultrasound. Well, since my next class did not start in an hour, I decided to see him. But he came there first, and it was funny when he told me that the doctor arrived and that he was scared he’d eat him. I told him maybe he should have the doctor eat his thyroid gland.

When I arrived at the hospital, it turned out that it was the wrong doctor and we ended up waiting there for like two hours for an ultrasound that only lasted for barely 30 seconds, and I ended up not going to my second class too. Jesus. It was a terrible, terrible wait! I think Richmond and I were able to talk about everything and anything we had common knowledge with and by the time the doctor was coming I already had a headache. But it was not so bad. It was fun talking about the blogs we read and about the insane video blogs on YouTube. I particularly liked it when Richmond would imitate them. I think his act was hilarious and, abnormal. But it’s cool.

But the most annoying part of it all was what came after his ultrasound. The paper read that his thyroid was normal. No nodules, no cysts. I mean, c’mon that’s like an injustice we actually waited there for two hours and he paid P700 for it. I thought he was robbed. I mean, it might be more interesting if there was an eyeball there or maybe a goldfish that he actually swallowed when he was in kindergarten. But no, it was the most normal thyroid gland.

I guess the only thing abnormal was my day.

It happened at an awkward time this morning, probably somewhere dawn, I can’t tell.

I was awoken by a deep sound, like moaning or a noise you make when you scream in plea. The room was dark and I barely saw anything, and in my half asleep-half awake state it was hard to focus. The sound became louder and louder and it was coming near me, approaching at fast speed.

I saw Jin jumped on the bed, it was the cat who was making that deep sound, meowing unlike the ordinary ones he used to make like when he’s hungry or wants a scratch. He was walking briskly, turning and walking back and forth, back and forth.

I did not know what was wrong with him. He can’t possibly be hungry. He has his own food tray at one corner of the room. So what could be wrong?

But I must admit, I was too groggy to figure it out, clouded by sleepiness, my judgment failed. I thought whatever Jin wanted I could attend later in the morning, when the sun is up and God  is awake. Ignoring the loud, weird meowing of the cat, I went back to sleep, only to be stunned later when I again woke up. It was horrible.

I rose from a deep sleep only to find the face of Kulot, my sister, in a state between, well, I don’t know, I can’t find a word for it. But when she told me why, I… I…

I laughed so hard!

It turned out that Kulot got a very nasty present on her face when she woke up. Guess what.

Jin pooped on her bed, barely missing her face.

When Jin woke me up at dawn, apparently it was for me to open the door of our room so he could get out and do his thing outside. But I was too sleepy and groggy to figure it out! Having left without a choice, Jin pooped inside the room, but I can’t say he picked a very good location.

It’s like World War. And really, I understand where Kulot is coming from. When you wake up with poop in front of your face, it’s war.

When we were eating breakfast at around 10 am this morning, Kulot was throwing evil looks at Jin all the way. If they were knives, Jin’s shredded and diced so fine I could cover his poop with his own self as sand. Kulot told me to watch over Jin very, very carefully or else…

I talked to Jin, about what really happened, why did he pooped on Kulot’s bed near her face. Jin said, “Meow,” and using my animal language interpreting skills, I translated that into, “I got possessed by an evil spirit.”

Ako ay may lobo. Lumipad sa langit. Di ko na nakita. Pumutok na pala.

I think it was a month ago. I could still remember it vividly on my mind, and now thinking about it kind of makes me laugh. In between classes, one of my classmates started a guessing game with us. She was on her way out the door when she suddenly announced, “Sige hulaan nyo kung ano ang bibilin ko. Pag nahulaan nyo, ililibre ko kayo [Guess what I’m about to buy, if you guess it right I’d treat you].” There was a funny, smart-ass look on her face. My classmates and I started guessing: “Food? Napkin? Deodorant? Test Pack?”

But we didn’t get it right, so my classmate finally declared what it was. “Condom.

We laughed. I almost had it when I said test pack. But what was funny was that I learned last night that she was pregnant. It’s fine though, she’s married. But my classmates and I had a blast teasing her on how it happened with all the condom thing and all. As a health care provider, things like these don’t make me feel uncomfortable a tiny bit. It’s normal, and funny, so I told her, “Siguro isa lang ang binili mo no tapos ginamit nyo ulit. Ano ka ba nagtitipid? Sa susunod wag ka bibili ng tingi, ang bilin mo isang box para walang problema [Maybe you only bought one piece then used it over and over. Are you some kind of cheapskate? Next time don’t buy per piece, buy a whole box so there’s no problem].” And all of us erupted into laughter. Or I thought maybe they have a pet cat and the cat managed to get his hands on that pack. You know how cats are, they love plastics and foil packs because of the noise it makes when it moves. And bam! The cat forgot to retract the claws and added a new feature to the condom: holes.

Check this out:

1. Remember that condoms are disposable, which translates to, use one per intercourse. Do not use a single condom for the whole night of 12 rounds of boxing because by the time you’re done, the condom might as well have melted into your skin. So if it’s a Friday night, it’s raining, and you think you have better things to do than sleep, don’t buy a piece of that rubber, try buying a whole box. Don’t feel bad if you weren’t able to use them all though, there’s always a next time. Just think about it as an investment.

2. Some people are allergic to latex, and you might know by now that condoms are made of latex. So before sticking it in, make sure that you are latex allergy free and so is your partner. C’mon, you don’t want your thing to swell so much you can’t take it out right? Check if you are allergic to other stuff made of latex, like gloves. If you are, keep your cool. There are other ways to be safe, than sorry.

3. I believe this is a common practice among males: placing condoms on their wallets, or back pockets. This is not really the brightest thing to do. Placing that thin sheet of rubber in your pocket where it is exposed to pressure or heat can damage it. If you put it on your wallet then slid the wallet on your back pocket, c’mon, think about it, all your weight putting pressure there. Think about what would happen if it tears…

4. If you actually like picking up girls on whatever setting there might be, do not place your stash of condoms on the bed side table when you sleep, or if you put it there do not take them back and use them some other time. I’ve seen a film, and I figured it can really happen and be done in reality. The girl and the guy hook up at the airport and did their thing. The next day, the guy was still asleep after a long baseball game but the girl was already up and about, ready to leave. And just before walking out the door, she actually punched holes on the condom packs using her earring. It was genius.

So it goes. Oh well, it’s a tricky thing, I tell you. As for my classmate, I’ll make sure I give her health teachings next time, maybe after 9 months.

Oh, the cat’s getting popular, I tell you.

Aside from the attention Jin gets from people who blog, he’s starting to invade the university too.

My mentor went to Korea and left her Campus Journalism class in my hands. During one of our discussions, I used the article, Upside Down, a piece from my blog that talked about Jin. My students loved him! And why wouldn’t they, right?

I’ve been out most times and barely get to spend time with Jin. Graduate school can really suck sometimes. But when I get home after six days of absence, I make sure we spend quality time together, which translates to, he sleeps and I watch over him. Haha!

I find it pretty hard, not to be with the cat. He’s growing up quite fast and before I know it, I’m sure Jin’s got some hot cat girlfriend around the neighborhood. Hmm.. I better be on the lookout. But as far as I know, at present, he’s but contented with all the friends he has at home, and time and again, Jin’s proving to be a pretty good friend because he visits them every time he gets the chance to. Well, as long as he doesn’t manage to eat them.

He’s a very busy cat, really. And by the looks of it, I say, Garfield better watch out.

Last Tuesday, I was surprised with a text message from my man that told me he was going to the hospital. What? I was scandalized and was 200 degree Celsius panicking because his message was very short, just that he was going to the hospital. I didn’t know why, or what the hell happened. To think I was still in class! It was about 7 pm then and I tried to call him but the connection was rejected. Jesus.

But I was able to breathe in a moment when he told me he was fine, and it was his grandmother that was confined. Okay, breathe. But my lungs were constricted again when he told me that his grandmother needed blood and he would be a donor. What? Okay, okay. Take it easy. I absorbed everything and tried to think about it on a nurse’s point of view. Okay. Grandmother needs blood and my man will donate. Cool. It’s as natural as anything can be.

But you know what? I realized even the most simple procedure can give you a jolt every now and then when the person involved is related to you. I used to laugh when I see worried family members outside the operating room then so anxious about their relative who for a fact was only having a minor operation. Okay so who’s laughing now huh? My man will only give blood and I think I’m about to go ballistic! Jesus. I’m really going crazy.

After class, I went straight to him to the hospital near the university. He asked me about it, the blood extraction, and everything I gave him were honest answers. He became anxious. Well, welcome to the club! Shortly, we were traveling to the local Red Cross Chapter for the extraction with his Aunt and an Uncle. He was interviewed prior to the physical assessment, and though I was tired and sleepy, it was fun listening to the questions and his answers.

Red Cross Personnel: Medyo personal. Nagka hepa ka na ba? Nakipagtalik sa may hepa? Nakipagtalik sa bayarang babae? [These are personal questions. Have you ever had Hepatitis? Had sex with someone diseased with Hepatitis? Had sex with a prositute?]

My man: Hindi. Grabe hindi. Hindi. Wala namang ganun. [No. Heavens no. No. No, there's no such thing.]

It was funny, really. After that we went to the provincial hospital so he could be assessed if he was fit to give blood. It was unfortunate that the male nurse who took his blood pressure was stupid and did not know how to deflate a BP cuff properly so we had to wait for some time till his BP was taken again by a different personnel, then he was cleared. When we got back to Red Cross, blood samples were drawn from him and it was funny to see his face when he saw the 3 cc syringe and the 500 cc bag that he has to fill with his blood. He might as well went ballistic. But a grandson’s got to do what a grandson’s got to do right? To think it was past 11 pm.

The next day, he showed up at my dorm still bearing the wound from the thick needle inserted to him from the extraction. I could tell he was proud of himself and what he has done. Well, me too. I’m very proud of him for being selfless and sacrificial, though I was still very much groggy because of the sleep deprivation. But it was well worth it.

When we ate that afternoon at a local cafe, he showed me the ID he got from Red Cross. He was like a little boy ecstatic with his prize. Then he wondered who to write at the back to notify in case of emergency. He said he’d write my name since that was how he wanted it if, but I hope not, anything happened to him, and so he did wrote my name and number. Under that was the relationship. We pondered for a moment what he’d write. And after a while, he looked at me with a funny face, and asked, “Eh kung wife kaya? [What if we wrote wife?]“

Well, what can I say? It’s definitely bleeding love. Don’t you think so too?