We Stand Alone Together

Poetry

Like a ghost you were there

Distant, unfeeling, strange.

Not unlike in my dreams

Where you’d hold my hand,

Or kiss me,

And smile.

The years gone I hoped to mend things,

To put everything right,

In our silence… distance;

To make us forget… to make us whole.

But your eyes belie them all

And I lie still with guilt.

Hurt, uncertainty, shame… fear.

No words need be uttered

But I saw them all in you,

Reminding me of so much

I tried to forget – and thought I did –

Until now.

Maybe time heals all wounds.

But I know a lost cause…

For nothing can be taken back

Before the worst.

These things are very obvious but it is very interesting how dumb we sometimes get and overlook them. Enjoy!

1. Heavy rains remind us of challenges in life. Never ask for a lighter rain. Just pray for a better umbrella. - That is attitude.

2. When flood comes, fish eat ants and when flood recedes, ants eat fish.  - Only time matters. Just hold on, God gives opportunity to everyone!

3. Life is not about finding the right person, but creating the right relationship. It’s not how we care in the beginning, but how much we care till the very end.

4. Some people always throw stones in your path. It depends on what you make with them. A Wall or a Bridge? - Remember you are the architect of your life.

5. Search for a beautiful heart, but don’t search for a beautiful face because beautiful things are not always good, but good things are always beautiful.

6. It’s not important to hold all the good cards in life. But it’s important how well you play with the cards you hold.

7. Often when we lose all hope and think this is the end, God smiles from above and says, ‘relax dear it’s just a bend, not the end.’ - Have faith and have a successful life.

8. One of the basic differences between God and humans is, God gives, gives and forgives. But the human gets, gets, gets and forgets.

I remember our advisory teacher then. There was really nothing special about her. She taught Science, and once she scolded me of not reciting what I learned in class but what I read from the book. Maybe she thought I was an arrogant prick… or maybe she was just having a bad day. I am guessing she was just out of college then. She was very young, cheerful, and there was a dreamy texture to her laugh that made you turn your head even if you don’t want to.

She was about to be one of those teachers that you get but soon forget. I say “about to be” because that same year, something happened… She discovered my knack for writing.

There was a press congress, a big writing contest, about to happen then and she needed students to join the competition, I am guessing not exactly to win but at least, to lose decently. She told me I was a part of it not because I was good in writing but because I was good in English.

So I started to write… and win… and I never stopped ever… and she started it all. I am pretty sure she had no intentions of plotting my life that time when the huge tree at the back of the school collapsed, but she did.

I saw her yesterday. I sat across her from the jeep and before I even hopped aboard, she was looking at me and smiling. She was wearing glasses now. She had mother’s hands. I know she is already a principal in an elementary school in town.

She asked me what I am up to and I told her I am still writing. She laughed, that dreamy laugh that made you turn even if you don’t want to, and I was suddenly looking back all those years when it all started… when all this started. She said if me writing meant I was not using my college degree, and I nodded. I added that I do not care and I am happy.  She said I really loved writing.

I do.

And no matter what happens, in the story of my life, it will always be her who started it all…

I’m glad.

Buying mangoes this early is similar to buying engagement rings near June. But I don’t care. For one I did not pay for this, Mother Goose just gave it to me.

I think when the time comes, mangoes will be my downfall.  Case study: when I was in the hospital, I stole borrowed the mangoes the dietary provided for My Man and ate them all up hurriedly before someone sees me. The second time they sent mangoes, I ate most of it and gave a single piece to My Man. I don’t mean single piece as in half a cheek. I gave him one spoonful and ate everything up… again.

Speaking of you never know, that is an important thing that I learned out of this disease. You really should not feel like an entitled prick and go about today without a care and make a mess of things, thinking that you can put them all right in the future. Do not put your hopes on tomorrow too much because you never know what happens then. It is hell important to be present.

I cannot tell you how many times I have looked at My Man on that sick bed, looking at him all blanched and peppered with rashes, and in my mind thinking this was the same guy who a few days ago sat on the dinner table with the entire family and ate plate after plate of what Mother Goose has cooked. This was the same guy who joked around with my sisters over some crazy pick up line on Twitter. This was the same guy whom I watched leave after dinner and drive home.

He was so lively, spirited, and happy and now he is ridden on a bed looking every bit like a peeled banana oxidizing against the air and bleeding through his gut. If you put one and one together, it is very hard to think he was the same guy from a few days ago… So you just never know, you know? Thank God it’s over.

All I am trying to say here is simple. Do not take anything for granted. Enjoy the simple things in life. Make the most of everyday and always pray – not for everything to be okay, but to have the strength to hold on and loved ones to hold onto, in case they don’t. I know you’ve heard of this before, but believe me, the last thing you want is for dengue to settle in before these things burn within you and leave a mark, so you just go for it and start doing what matters. So much can go wrong but WTF, ’tis just all the more reason to do things right.

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PS Anyone out there having troubles commenting on blogspot domains? I’ve been trying to comment on my blog friends on blogspot but the captcha seems broken. If you’re on blogspot, I’ve been visiting you but the word verification is a bitch. Has anyone reported this to your provider?

I’ve been in the hospital for a week.

This is the short answer to where the hell have I been all this time and the long answer is that My Man suffered from dengue hemorrhagic fever and was hospitalized last Thursday. It felt like moving to a totally rad condo only that My Man was tied to an IV stand, looking like an aged banana. He is still in the hospital actually but he is all better and set to be discharged tomorrow.

What I found from this experience is that there is not much literature that helps when it comes to dengue. If you look it up online all you would see is a stress on hydration. I even rummaged in my old college books but there was no detailed discussion of dengue. Bummer.

So I decided to share a few tips and tricks on how dengue is a bitch and some points on patient care, cure, and management. Not to prepare you for a dengue attack actually, because really I would not wish it on anyone, but it just pays to know, you know?

First of, dengue is a virus, meaning no amount of antibiotic can cure it, in fact, there is no exact cure for the dengue virus. To understand dengue, compare it with the common flu. If you are unlucky, it finds you, makes you sick, but it leaves on its own. The medications are not exactly to treat the virus but the symptoms, get it?

Now the uncool part is the huge stigma attached to dengue. It is very scary for the most part because it is as if everyone with dengue dies. Well, you can die with dengue but it is not really necessary. The trick is early detection. If you are experiencing two or three days of high grade fever without signs of infection, have a go at the  hospital and get tested for dengue. There is a rapid dengue test now that can tell whether you are positive.

You do not have to wait for the blanching and petechiae or rashes to appear on your skin before you decide to go to the hospital and get tested. That is the late stage of  dengue already and you have lost a mighty number of platelets by then for sure if you do not bother to do anything about it quickly.

Speaking of platelets, this is the blood component that is destroyed by dengue. The low number of platelets is the reason why some dengue patients bleed spontaneously. It is not fun, I tell you. The bleeding can be internal or external so careful watch for any signs of bleeding is important. However, what you must understand is that in dengue cases, the platelet will really fall no matter what you do because it is the natural course of the disease, but as you build your immunity, the platelet count should naturally go back up again.

Also, not all dengue patients need blood transfusion. If you do not have massive bleeding and your immune system is able to naturally fight the virus, there is no need for blood transfusion. But if you suffered from dengue, you cannot donate your blood anymore. I am saying this because it is true and not to encourage you to lie about suffering from dengue if ever you need to donate blood.

With dengue, there is really not much that you can do but to wait for your platelet to drop and go back up again (normal count is about 350-100), sleep and rest, and get well hydrated and receive good nutrition (you can eat anything except dark colored foods or those that can induce itchiness on the rashes). The idea is to build up immunity as fast as you can. There is no telling how quickly the dengue will resolve. Some finish in three days while others take a week or two.

The information shared here on dengue hemorrhagic fever, patient care, cure, and management are not intended to replace medical advice, but as they say, better to have something on your brain than be an idiot. Ever heard of that one before?

Special thanks to all the doctors and nurses who attended to My Man at the couple of hospitals we went to, to my cousin Dr. Saroca, to Mother Goose and Don Domeng, to my sisters, to Roke and Hobbe, to Madam, to Mommy, to Tita Kite, to Denoy‘s mom, and to everyone who wished and prayed for My Man well. It worked!

It was halfway on the soup when I suddenly realized all the noise around me coming from the afternoon crowd: a family taking the kids out for a snack, friends and classmates recharging after school, and couples holding hands while laughing at their own inside jokes.

I was alone.

As I dug into my single serving of mashed potato, I could almost feel the eyes of these strangers darting towards my table, in their minds questions that their imagination can only answer. I can picture them wondering: Why is she eating alone? Didn’t anyone wanted to join her? Where was her boyfriend? Does she have friends? Is she a bad ass?

There is something about being alone that bothers most people. It is as if it is a negative thing that comes next to buying condoms or panties that makes people uncomfortable. Thus, everything has to be done with a companion, even the mundane like walking, eating, even going to the loo. I looked at the lone chicken wing I was tearing apart like a caveman at the moment… I wonder if it is bothered by the absence of the left wing? Or was it the right?

It is as if being alone sends an invisible message to the world that leaves many iffy… like if they are left alone there is something inside them that would be reluctantly exposed,  and they will be left vulnerable, so they go through all sorts of things to cover it up… and get company. I swear, it is something worse than silence in their books. Curious, isn’t it?

I was pretty full at this point on my table for four, and as I unwrapped the brownie left for dessert, I imagined what I would say if anybody I knew spotted me there gorging on a brownie by myself and asked why I was alone. I smiled to myself and leaned back contentedly. The answer was pretty simple…

“Because I can.”

The book is a series of essays focused on the everyday life and family of an adult homo. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim is such a witty read that if wit could cut, my hands would be terribly bleeding right now. The beginning and end part had so many funny things in them I was chuckling by myself in a few corners around the house. The narration was very light and entertaining and the way Sedaris puts it, it is as if his life is in a parallel universe where even the most mundane has something curious to offer, you’d never run out of interesting stories to tell.

But somehow, following the book felt like a cross between being an actual paparazzi and staying at home in the couch watching a gossip or a reality show. I cannot say I enjoyed that aftertaste now that I think back on it but the wit and humor that Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim have watered down that sensation, fortunately. It was hilarious reading of the possibilities that can only happen inside a crazy man’s head but in the best possible sort. I mean, worrying of a zombie attack, obsessing over the apartment of Anne Frank, and drowning a crippled mouse? You’d have to be paralyzed not to laugh. It sure has its moments, though the middle part can be a drag, highlighted by short bursts of ups and downs (similar to my experience reading Me Talk Pretty One Day, same author).

Reading the odd group of family and friends within the book also gives you an impression similar to what we all do, blogging about our own life, family, and friends. We openly share the hilarity, embarrassment, and glory of it all. I say that is just great.

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On the photo: Drinking tea (on a cup with a protruding nose) and reading books, I’m such an old lady, aren’t I?  Fun fact: I don’t like cracking the spine of my books. If the book reached me new, it will look unread and unopened even when I have devoured its contents already. Crazy.

This book is pretty much a rock star’s memoir – fame, sex, drugs, insanity and all – minus the music. Professional Idiot chronicles the addiction that is the life of Steve-O in a brutally honest but totally charming, really hilarious way.

If you think about it, the story of Steve-O has all the makings of a cheesy and preachy conversion story: from riches to rags to riches again, suffocating in fame, turning to substance and celebrity addiction, and finally snapping out of it. But instead of being mushy, the memoir chronicled everything in a very cool, easy to read way, without implying or remotely rationalizing that what Steve-O did was acceptable. The way the controversy is handled is similar to The Perks of Being a Wallflower, only this is 100 times more entertaining, more grown up, and real.

It is amazing how the book dealt with some of the darkest things in life in a factual but funny manner. Maybe it has got to do with Steve-O being a canon ball, having a blast in the middle of all the lunacy he’s doing, but the tone of the book is always up there even when the facts of what is truly happening are hell.

For sure there are tons out there who think Steve-O is just a “truly messed up son of a bitch, drug-addled, attention seeking whore, harboring on bat shit insane“, and they are probably right, but amidst the story you would also find the other half of Steve-O which is a determined, committed, sweet, smart, and funny guy willing to submit himself to torture just to make other people laugh. He may not have bet his strengths on the right places all the time but they are there.

Professional Idiot is also an eye opener on substance abuse – addiction is a symptom, not the cause – and those quick to judge are not even aware of that. There is something deeper triggering it, and in the case of Steve-O, a family life doomed at the get go. This is also a strong reminder on the importance of sound parenting, and having great friends like Johnny Knoxville and Jeff Tremaine, who loved him enough to care to throw him to the loony bin just to keep him alive.

The end part of the Professional Idiot is awesome. The epiphany is simple, very honest, totally cool, and hopeful. How can you argue with a life goal “to channel my obsessive behavior toward things that won’t hurt me or anyone else: sobriety, veganism, my dogs, my family, being of service to others, and of course, Internet porn“?

Professional Idiot is a kick ass memoir that is a trip to hell and back up. For all it is worth, Steve-O totally makes sobriety rad and with his sex appeal, very hot too.

–

On the photo: My copy of the kindle version of Professional Idiot printed out given to me by My Man on my messy desk.

Is that called cinematography? I guess it is and it’s the kind of cinematography that gives you a clue what moving photos are like. I swear, it’s the first time I’ve seen anything as good as this. Well, given I do not watch tons of movies, but the cinematography of Real Steel is kick ass. There are tons of frames that looked like perfect photographs… and it is not just because Hugh Jackman is on it.

At first I was not excited at all to watch Real Steel because the trailer gave me a feeling that it is most likely to be cheesy so I did not have high hopes, but I surprisingly enjoyed it. The CG work on the robots were cool, the story moved quickly, and it was believable. Sure, there were cliches here and there and the ending is predictable but it was really not that bad. I am assuming the Filipino public would enjoy a story like Real Steel, most especially because Atom, the hero robot, was called the People’s Champ in the end, sounds familiar?

All in all, Real Steel is entertaining, it makes you feel good but not in a mushy way, and it has cinematography that can blow you off the roof. It is very, very cool. If you have not watched it, get up and go. I know the trailer leaves much to be desired but Real Steel is rad, you’ll see.