Impulsive Me, 'Super' Me and Strawberry-filled Dougnuts

After repeated bouts of tossing and turning around the bed last night, I finally had a good night sleep but I was disturbed by the noise outside my room. Workers from my family's newly constructed pad were re-piling blocks and lumber from the site and placed it right at the side of my room. I wanted to yell at them but I've realized some of the workers were my relatives so I just went out of my bed and ran to my pond. I instructed the housekeeper the other day to refill the pond every morning. I suspected a leak and Mom does not have the time to fix that crack underneath those lily pads. Lucky enough for its inhabitants! She's busy supervising the construction and administering my cousin's allowances for the entire month. Their parents are working abroad so that means, she got two families to run. She's a superwoman! Every time someone's sick in the family specially the old guys, she's readily available for them. I can't blame her if I don't see her in the house every waking moment. Love her though.

Last April my grandfather, Mom's dad, died from a stroke and she has always been on his side ever since he started to deteriorate 3 years ago. Two weeks ago, grandfather's elder sister, my Mom's aunt died of respiratory failure. She was always there, processing the needed transactions, the certificates and of course, nursing the sick. Mom was consistently mentioned in the eulogy. Anyway, I know Mother's Day is 2 months ago but I just want to give her the credit of being a good homemaker. After taking my light breakfast, I prepared myself for the day. I was asked by a special someone to buy a freshwater angelfish but I don't have the time. I went to our 'nest' and spend our vacant time together until 2 pm. The skies were gloomy but the weather was fine.
The review centre where I am currently reviewing is a kilometer or two from my 'special someone's' place so I have to leave approximately 30 minutes before 2 pm. Unfortunately, I arrived late. My classmates were already sticking their noses on their answer sheets. Hilda, the review coordinator smiled reluctantly then checked her tarnished wrist watch and gave me the answer sheet. The only vacant desk was at the front so I scooted the aisle for it. I only got 50 minutes to answer the 3-part test and I made it right on time. After the test, we checked and rationalized. As always, Hilda has the habit of asking one-by-one for our scores and repeats them in front of the class. You get a low score you'll be on the spot. I got 37 out of 40 and that was my highest score ever since I started reviewing. While Hilda's doing her roll call from the back, I noticed most of my classmates' scores were below 30 but one made it with 3 mistakes too. I was the last person called and said, "37," reluctantly. She nod and said, "27. 27 has a bandscore of 6.5 I'll be having your answer sheets then you can go home." I froze and I couldn't take it back if I did, that would mean something else. If I protested, I might be misunderstood so I left it that way. The recognition... gone!

I went down the steep staircase smiling yet my heart was really aching. The impulsive me and my 'super' me was in a moot but just like many other men, the impulsive me was more dominant at that time. I needed something that could bring back the equilibrium of the personality components. According to Freud, we got 3 personality components: the id, the impulsive, pleasure-seeking behavior; the superego, the person's nature that reflects moral values and ethics; and lastly, ego the balancing or mediating force. Ego was too weak to drawback the conflicting forces in me. I just took hold of myself and said, "There's only one thing that can balance the forces... and that's strawberry-filled doughnuts!" Right, strawberry-filled doughnuts. I went straight to Divisoria and bought strawberry-filled doughnuts. As I bit into the soft doughnut and felt the luscious sweet of the strawberry filling, everything was OK. Darn! I should have uttered 37 clearly but... it does not matter. As long as I get a good score and never cheated that would be fabulous.

Click the image above to see the personality components.

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Sweepin' Through The City: Vintage

Taken at Pabayo-J.R. Borja Street, Wadhu's Quality Store, the oldest living shop in Cagayan de Oro since 1936. I have no idea who owns that car but that's an old one, a 1970 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia coupé.

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Rumi

If we come to ignorance, that is His prison. And if we come to knowledge, that is His balcony. If we come to sleep, we are His drowsy ones. And if we come to wake, we are in His hands. If we come to weeping, we are His cloud of raindrops. And if we come to laughing, we are His lightning in that moment. If we come to anger and battle, it is the reflection of His wrath. And if we come to peace and pardon, it is the reflection of His love.

The name Mowlana Jalaluddin Rumi stands for Love and ecstatic flight into the infinite. Rumi is one of the great spiritual masters and poetical geniuses of mankind and was the founder of the Mawlawi Sufi order, a mystical brotherhood of Islam.

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Pondering Philosophies

There is only one sin. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft. When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to her husband, his children's right to their father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone from the truth...

-Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner

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Moy Moy Palaboy's Best: Volare (Nel Blu Depinto di Blu)

"Nel blu dipinto di blu" (literally "In the blue painted blue"), popularly known as "Volare" (Italian for the infinitive form of the verb 'To Fly.'), Domenico Modugno's signature song. The only song ever by an Italian artist to reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100.

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Moy Moy Palaboy's Best: Mari Mar

Absolutely funny! This is one of the videos posted by Moymoy Palaboy in YouTube. I think this two are siblings with their mother or grandmother at the background. I love you guys! Just continue to make people laugh. :D 'No que no...'

Marimar is a Mexican Telenovela was originally broadcast in 1994 on Televisa. It is very popular in Latin America the United States among French overseas network viewers in the French overseas department and territories and Portuguese-speaking countries (via Brazil) in Africa and one of the most viewed soap opera in the Philippines and Indonesia. According to the daily Ivoir 'Soir, "At 7.30 p.m. precisely, Marimar begins and life grinds to a halt in Cote Ivoire." Singer Thalia is the soap's major star.

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Why Dextrocardia?

I would like to congratulate everyone who made it to the licensure exams specially to my schoolmates, who with their might, spend the wee hours of the morning burying themselves in their textbooks. They've been arguing who will make it to the top 10 but unfortunately not one of my friends made it. No one from the city made it to the top. But I'm still proud of these people. This morning, right after my 6 hour sleep, I immediately log on to the internet to check some updates of this blog. As I open my yahoo messenger, a close friend from Iligan, now who is in London for greener pastures buzzed me. We talked about last night's results released by the professional regulation comission. I told him that I was jumping like a kid having a trip to Disneyland or a teenager having his first brand new sedan but that don't happen here. Rather, a kid excited for his happy meal from McDonald's or a movie fan anxious to see a movie heartthrob. Now that sounds more Third World. I told him I was jumping like a kid when I saw my friends' names on the list and got a sprain on the ankle. I was like running around the hallway to grab a phone to inform my friends that they made it, to tell them that everything was paid off, to tell them that I was praying day and night for their success. I was thinking I might be the first person to inform them but I wasn't. I wanted to be part of their stories of victory. You know, the recognition and all.

After we talked about the passing rates, the top performing schools he asked, 'What's dextrocardia? Why dextrocardia?' It means right-side heart transposition. Normally, the heart is in the left side of the chest. Don't worry this is not a medical posting but rather the reason why I called my blog that way. Everytime we hear about coup d'etats in the news we normally call the conspirators the 'leftist.' They believed that overthrowing a defunct president or a prime minister is the solution for the political and economic instability. Dextrocardia is unique in nature. Why not leftist? It sounds too radical and they might accuse me of treason and that will be a bigger problem. I just want to rant. Talk about anything. Thinking loud, that's all I want to do in my postings. I can't discuss my opinions in front of people. My ideas are so weird and unorthodox that they might poke sharp sticks right through my eyes. I want to die with complete set of eyes of course. Sometimes I just can't take people that much specially in bistro bars and clubs. They're in the flux of suppressed impulses making their animal instinct surface out. The 8 next to it is nothing. I intended to place the no. 8 to pass the name availability test. There are a lot of meanings according to numerology of 8 but I won't buy that. He said that no one can remember the name easily. You read the name through your eyes and vaporizes out to your ears. I just told him that it's too early to be pessimistic. I wanted to tell the whole wide world what runs in my mind, just that.

Post Script: Dan, I know you've been blogging for a year now but you know what, I'm having fun with this piece of innovation. Supportahi na lang ko ui... yes na lang gyud! :D

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Jesters Of The Operating Table

The other day, I enjoyed browsing and reading a blog that reminds me of my college days in nursing school. I remembered my first clinical exposure at the city hospital, a dead investment of the local government but as a whole all went well there. Exposure to specialized areas were supplemental although 4 other nursing schools were fighting for the chance to be expose not only to the specialized area but to infectious diseases as well. Private hospital experience was of great help for a little touch of the close-to-ideal setting. The much anticipated, by a student-nurse, psychiatric (in Manila) and orthopedic center affiliation. Photos were all lost by a careless computer technician. All I can do is reminisce on them but no matter how I try to describe every detail of the experience, the primitive human mind cannot quantify the quality of a memory without a mere image of it. Yet a very unusual experience might haunt you.

And again I won't be talking about all the cheery happenings and the awe of the marvels of the human body and its vulnerability but rather I will be sharing the realities of health care in the third world. After the heated Vicente Sotto Hospital (Cebu City) Scandal early this year, the world made a different view on medical and allied health education in the country. The world saw a substandard, unethical, scandalous health provider. A jester of the operating table. Since childhood, I always want to become a physician but during my exposure at the clinical area I have seen too much bias and it seems I don't want to be like them. Does med school teach equality among the rich and the poor patients? Patients should recieve equal non biased quality health care no matter the variables are.
One incident of last year in X Medical Center, we were trying to complete our operating room cases for the board exams, a 14 yr. old mother was scheduled for a c-section due to dystocia and cephalopelvic disproportion, she was less than 5 feet, small women are at high risk of having this during labor. Probably an indigent from the outskirts of the province, she was too reluctant to climb the gurney for a short trip to the OB-Gyne OR. Our group was assigned at the Orthopedic OR. We've been there for ages assisting a bone doctor to amputate a bad leg. To suffice, first, the muscle tissues were transected then the bone was sawed through a oscillating saw. You can even feel the vibrations and see bone fragments thrown away by the saw. I feel my enamel ache as the surgeon sawed through the femur.
I was a student-circulating nurse at that time. My role was to conduct a sponge count from time to time and get what the surgical team needs outside the sterile field. I was asked to get a bag of IV in the main OR as I walked through the OB-Gyne OR the teenage mother was strapped on the operating table. Crucified and cut alive they say. The anesthetist had already run the anesthetics through the spine and the surgeon, an OB-Gyne had don her gloves. The way to the main OR was just a couple of meters away but I needed to slow down to keep me away from the sterile field. The scrub nurse passed the scalpel to the surgeon she took it and held it like holding a candle. And like a flame from a candle, it glistened as she twist it between her thumb and index finger.
Under a spinal anesthesia, in a c-section or any procedure that requires it, a patient is normally conscious. It blocks nerve transmission below the diaphragm thus, eliminating pain, motor signals and sensation. She already received spinal anesthesia a few minutes ago but something happened, an event that contradicted my personal values. The surgeon transversely swish the scalpel unto the patient's abdomen, sorting the skin from the fatty tissue. Surely, if I try to examine it with a tissue forceps jagged edges of fatty tissue possibly reveal the muscle tissues underneath. The patient was screaming in pain, she was hysterical. Then immediately, the anesthetist administered general anesthesia through a face mask to fully sedate the patient more likely to stop her from screaming and writhing. Her head dropped and loss consciousness in a matter of seconds. I was left dumbfounded. Confused. My mind was battling with the images I've seen in the OR. I stared at the newly born neonate in disbelief. My thoughts were gathered after receiving a pat on my shoulder. I wasn't frightened with the pat but rather the coldness of the hand touching my nape. It was my clinical instructor. That was the nastiest operation made by a licensed physician.
The neonate was in perfect condition after an hour of extra-uterine life. Finally, we took off our patient's leg and ready for closure. Right after the surgery, we cleaned all the instruments, mopped the floor and made our documentation. I remained silent for 2 hours of the entire shift. We took our dinner then I started to share what I saw earlier. My colleagues made a lot of assumptions about what I saw. Some said that the physicians might be upset or resentful for the 14 year old girl. Another colleague on her mid 30s said that she deserved that for being a slut, an ungrateful daughter to her parents. I never said a word during their argument. No matter what were the circumstances she's into, she deserved to be treated with dignity in her surgery. I always want to become a doctor but I don't want to be like them. Even right at this very moment, I can hear her screaming in excruciating pain. We've seen such scenarios like in House, M.D. but a patient has their rights. Nursing and medicine is humanity. We should maintain that notion for our profession is noble for its cause.

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CONGRATULATIONS TO THE NEW REGISTERED NURSES

Log on to www.nursereview.org for the successful nurses!

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Johanna & The Demon Barber

Before you even click the play button, I would like to warn you that the video that you are about to watch contains horrible scenes about a demented barber named Todd. The lyrics and title might be about a beautiful young lady but the scenes, with all our might to expurgate, contains significant episodes of morbidity. I reckon you to take your dinner before watching the excerpt or for the hemophobic you can browse around for a much milder posting.

Johanna (Reprise)

ANTHONY:
I feel you, Johanna
I feel you
Do they think that walls can hide you?
Even now I’m at your window
I am in the dark beside you
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair
Johanna

TODD:
And are you beautiful and pale
With yellow hair, like her
I’d want you beautiful and pale
The way I’ve dreamed you were,
Johanna

ANTHONY:
Johanna

TODD:
And if you’re beautiful what then
With yellow hair, like wheat
I think we shall not meet again,
My little dove, my sweet,
Johanna

ANTHONY:
I’ll steal you, Johanna

TODD:
Goodbye, Johanna
You’re gone and yet you’re mine
I’m fine, Johanna
I’m fine

ANTHONY:
Johanna

BEGGAR:
Smoke, smoke
Sign of the devil (x2)
City on fire
Witch, a witch
Smell it sir, an evil smell
Every night at the vesper's spell
Smoke that came with an awful hell
City on fire (x2)
Mischief (x3)

TODD:
And if I never hear your voice,
My turtle dove, my dear
I still have reason to rejoice
The way ahead is clear
Johanna

ANTHONY:
I feel you, Johanna

TODD:
And in that darkness when I’m blind
With what I can’t forget
It’s always morning in my mind,
My little lamb, my pet
Johanna
You stay, Johanna

ANTHONY:
Johanna

TODD:
The way I dreamed you were
Oh, look, Johanna
A star

ANTHONY:
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair

TODD:
A shooting star

BEGGAR:
There, there
Somebody, somebody
Look up there
Didn’t I tell you?
Smell that air
City on fire
Quick, sir! Run and tell
Warn them all of the witch's spell
There it is, there it is
There in hell, this smell
Tell it to the fiddler, police as well
Tell them, tell them
Oh! Fiend!
City on fire (x2)
Mischief (x2)

TODD:
And though I’ll think of you I guess
Until the day I die
I think I miss you less and less
As every day goes by
Johanna

ANTHONY:
Johanna

TODD:
And you’d be beautiful and pale
And look too much like her
If only angels could prevail

We’d be the way we were

Johanna

ANTHONY:
I feel you, Johanna

TODD:
Wake up, Johanna
*Another bright red day*
We learn, Johanna
To say
Goodbye

ANTHONY:
I’ll steal you

Disclaimer: Please message me if there are any rights violated in my video post so I can remove them from my blog. Thank you and enjoy!

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A Little Priest

One of my favorite songs in the musical movie Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street by Warner Bros. and Dreamworks. In the excerpt, Helena Bonham-Carter play as the ingenious Mrs. Nellie Lovett, a widowed baker while Johnny Depp as the demon barber, Benjamin Barker also known as Sweeney Todd. 'These are desperate times... and desperate measures are called for.' A very recommended movie for musical theatre or film enthusiasts.

Disclaimer: Please message me if there are any rights violated in my video post so I can remove them from my blog. Thank you and enjoy!

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Sweepin' Through The City: Motorela

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Boredom, Exams and Unemployment

I have been out of school for more than a year now. I earned a degree that promises us to have a bright future abroad and not to mention, an automatic entry to a stampede to acquire a US visa. I'm so freaking bored! I felt the climax of boredom yesterday. I woke up 9.30 in the morning and the day before, I was informed by my IELTS British-accent instructor, Hilda that practice tests are given Monday to Friday from 10am to 12 noon only. But unfortunately, I don't have the enough time to be in the review by 10. Home is 5 km away from the city and I need at least an hour to prepare myself and to commute. So I decided to go to the gym instead and finish all my routines for that day. I hanged out with Adam, a multi-talented, ingenious, burly yet flamboyant classmate since the 5th grade who is an aerobic, hip-hop and belly dancing instructor. If you wan't to cut those flabs out just message me then I'll give you his contact details exclusive for Cagayan de Oro clients only. We end up laughing when gym staff try to pry on us every time we stay at the aerobics room with blinds down. I know what they're thinking but hey we're really that close and blinds were already down before we went in. Sometimes we shut open the door so they won't think something else. I'm too fascinated with the things he shared about his escapades with his lover and flings. We were busy checking out people down Velez Street. People from different walks of life and often he got lots of things to make up about the way they look and of course, their gestures. I feel pity for those guys who passed by the gym. His perspective of the way they walk, the way their lips and mouth open as they talk wont be an excuse. He always looks for queerness. He has a good gaydar. Even the slightest signs won't slip his scanning and 'sniffing' ability. We talked about almost everything until one topic hit me on the heated spot. I remember watching the original theater musical, Sweeney Todd in YouTube, the only full-version musical in the entire site I supposed. I've noticed, it has a prelude. Cats, Phantom of The Opera and Les Miserables has preludes too and preludes are obviously shown or performed at the beginning. The part you call at the ending of a musical, a book or a play is an epilogue or the finale. Don't get confuse with them. :D Going back to the gym, that topic was a prelude of emotional derangement of the entire day. He was ranting about having his third mobile phone in 2 years. Duh! He has two of the best 3G enabled mobile phones and now he's having a problem of choosing his third one? I can't even afford a bottlled water with my meager allowance and he's confused of having a new phone or not? My bodily fluids started to simmer but I was always reminded of dignity and decorum so I lowered the heat down while my right hand was in my pocket, feeling the crack of my 3-year-old phone's housing. I told him that he won't need that and how about an Ipod for himself. He said he won't be needing one and can't even find the slightest reason to buy one. His answer was rather Pecksniffian than sincere. I've always known him to be egocentric, materialistic living creature since grade school so no doubt, he was just trying to cover-up that mere fact. After that ordeal, we went out to visit a friend whose office is just a block away from the gym to claim his poster. My emotions are now controllable compared a few months ago so I went home fine. I started to update my blog and I've been waiting for 2days for the ads to appear I messaged a blog expert who promised to help but unfortunately he was unresponsive for the whole afternoon. My blog is the only alternative I can do to at least earn something for myself to fund my needs and some wants. I must face the fact that I can't work for hours while reviewing for the foreign exams. A rush of depression filled me up. I can't stop reviewing to look for a job. And if I do I have to sacrifice a lot of my time for my personal life. I got no choice but to review and have a good shot on the exams. I don't have the guts to demand much from my parents when I only need a pair of new jeans and a new badminton racket. I went back to the city to meet two close friends from college. One is a prime time DJ of a local radio station the other was indiscernible, neither a man or a woman. Hehe. Probably one of Count Olaf's accomplice. Hehe. We had fun in the booth and dedicated some songs for the heartbroken yet I was still bored and depressed. Later that night, someone special told me the facts of life. Our parents' role is to provide the most basic necessities of living and having our wants is a bonus. It doesn't mean that if we review for an exam in particular, they are obliged to provide our demands, your wants from the fact that you can't get a job because you're reviewing. It's not an excuse. For the students, you may not get what I am trying to say but this might and will happen to you. I had experienced financial hardships in my childhood days and luckily we were able to get out of it with the grace of God. The transition was good. From my boredom and sense of being useless, I have learned the reasons of taking chances. I'm young and can do good for my future. Also, I have learned the importance of spending wisely and money. We don't earn from just sitting down. We work and move a limb.

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My Stash: Ganja Sunrise Ads

This poster was made 6 years ago during my senior year in high school. We were asked to make an ad of a beach resort. We were given the chance to name it and provide the services and amenities the beach resort has. This is a mere capability of a high school student I know some can make it more nice and elaborate. I named it Ganja Sunrise, a popular Indie Band here in Cagayan de Oro way back years ago. The name Ganja, reminded me of the Caribbean, Bob Marley and reggae which has a connection with white sandy beaches.

Are you looking for the coolest and the most comfortable place to stay for the entire summer? Worry no more, the place is just 30 km away from the Cagayan de Oro! Ganja Sunrise, one of the most visited beaches in the world (crap!). Known for its powder-like sand and rare, colorful coral reefs and pristine seas. Check-in at our villas and see the sum sets at twilight, hear the pounding percussions and calypso at Café Monte Carlo and dance the latin beat at our discotheque. Come and visit us at Corrales Avenue for bookings and information. Blah, blah, blah...

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My Stash: 10 New Mantras For A Sexier More Empowered You

I got this from a magazine unfortunately I cannot remember the publication. But if any one reacts on the rights of this clipping please message me so I can delete this from my blog as well as the pic. This clipping is one of must-knows that I like. It helps you to be empowered especially at times when you're so wasted and down. Hope you'll have time to relax using this tips I got for you guys. It will help I tell you. :D

10 New Mantras For A Sexier More Empowered You



1. Lower your head into the strong stream of warm water of the morning shower.

"I anoint myself with the powers of the universe. I am eternal and indomitable. I send out waves of irresistible appeal."

2. Stand under the shower and close your eyes.

"I am renewed. I am liberated. I am free."

3. As you vigorously towel yourself dry.

"From my skin emanates the essence of desire, producing longing in all who come near."

4. As you gel, wax or molding-mud your hair.

"This crown, it rocks!"

5. Professional or social rival riles you. Using very expensive foot cream, rub between great toe and second toe using thumb and index finger, slowly enunciating:

"I'm all that."

6. Boss says your work sucks, your fashion sense sucks, you suck. Clasp your hands together behind your back, lifting them away from your body as you toss your head backwards; you should hear your upper spine crick. Take in a long breath through the mouth, silently saying to yourself:

"Sucking, it is good."

7. Lover dumps you for someone younger, better-looking, richer and socially prominent than you. Bring a pitcher of water to you bedside. Assume fetal position. Weep for three days, drinking water when necessary (you won't need food). This is suicidal. On the third day, rise and flail your arms around as you twirl on your feet in a dance of acceptance and self-redemption. Utter:

"I'm still all that."

8. Management committee meeting you're in is in its third hour and everyone's saying the same thing they said last week, not to mention just an hour ago. Sitting with feet at shoulder width and firmly planted on the ground, rest both arms on your knees raising the hands in gesture of discreet benediction under the conference table. In your mind, say:

"Blessings to all God's creatures." or "Shut the f*** up already. You said that na kanina pa!"

9. On a weekend stay at parents', laundress bleaches carefully blow-torched Helmut Lang jeans into a pristine, preppie white. With both hands quickly trace a large Z in the air, snapping at each corner of the letter. To the rhythm of the snaps, say:

"Easy come, easy go."

10. Martini arrives tepid. There is no known consolation to this horror. Feel free to hurl invective and furniture.

Image from: www.visiblemantra.org

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My Stash: The Legend of The Greater Antilles

This is a high school composition of 9 years ago we were asked to make a story using the plot of Hashnu, the woodcutter. I lost the second page of the story but I'll try to remember the continuation of it.

The Legend of The Greater Antilles

A long time ago, during the time of the Portuguese colonies in the West Indies there lived Hashnu, a poor woodcutter. He has dark skin and curly hair and came from West Africa brought by the conquistadores to be sold for slavery while his parents were taken to Tobago to work in the indigo plantation. One day, while walking along the dusty streets of Sao Tolome, he met the beautiful goddess of the sea, Yemanja disguised as an old beggar. He gave the woman a drink from his gourd jug. In exchange, the woman gave him the power of seven wishes. It will be granted when he shouts, "Antilles!" With a sound of a thunder, he woke up on the shores just outside his hut. He went to the coconut groves and felt the wind was free, "Ah me!" he shouted. "Antilles! I wish I were the wind!" so he became the wind.

He was blown to the sea straight to Trinidad and bumped into the sail of a galleon ship. He became jealous again and shouted, "Antilles! I wish I were the ship." He became a ship but the waves were scooping him up and down. He became jealous again and shouted, "Antilles! I wish I were the waves!" but when he reached Tobago he was quickly absorbed by the sand. Then he realized that he was vulnerable and wanted to become Hashnu again. He shouted Antilles and went back to his old self. He missed his parents and wanted them back. He shouted "Antilles!" and asked for his parents and it was granted in a wink. Yet Hashnu felt lonely he heard the beauty of Ashimma who tends the corals and the sea creatures of the sea. He shouted, "Antilles! I want Ashimma for my wife!" Suddenly, the Caribbean Sea roared, Yemanja and her daughter came out of the whirlpool and the sea creatures paid respect to them. Yemanja calmed the seas and said, "Because of your kindness, humility and respect to your parents, I offer you my daughter and I give you four islands for you and your descendants."

Hashnu and his parents' descendants flourished over the islands and later named each of them: Coabana (modern-day Cuba) the largest of the islands, Xaymaca (Jamaica), Quizqueia (Hispaniola) and Boriqua (Puerto Rico). Yemanja continued to bless the islands that remind her kindness and beauty. The islands were blessed for many years but the people forgot to thank the sea goddess. Yemanja became furious and sent invaders to the islands and were colonized by them. They paid tribute back to Yemanja and felt sorry for their arrogance. She was merciful and granted their freedom after centuries of bondage and slavery.

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My Stash

What's in my stash? Well, I got lots of stuff in it. These are favorite articles, high school compositions, my entrance packet to college from Ateneo de Cagayan and of course small things given by significant others. My stash is small as you can see it in the picture. It can contain 15 large pads of Cadbury chocolate or 20 obselete cassette tapes stacked one with the other. This evening, just when I arrived from the city to pick up my most awaited yet disappointing machine readable passport, I reckoned to check my stash out and have something to post for this blog. Hehe. Surprisingly, the papers were not yellowed by age! I can still distinguish the colors of the clippings I got from newspapers and magazines. This blog will be a series of stories on the objects that has a symphysis of what I am right now, what I love to do. This is an overture of my profile. This is a part of me.

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A Blasphemous Yet Funny Commercial

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Meat Pies And A Free Shave?

Stephen Sondheim is a genius! The original theatre musical was a tragic comedy performed by brilliant artists like Len Cariou and Angela Lansbury (Voice, Mrs. Potts Disney's Beauty & the Beast). Tim Burton made a different flavor. Now it's gloomier, more serious and bloody not to mention Mrs. Lovett's (played by Helena Bonham Carter-Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry Potter & The Order Of The Phoenix) meat pies made out of human remains was a craze in Fleet Street! We get to hear the bewitching symphonies and Johnny Depp's performance as the demon barber, Sweeney Todd/Benjamin Barker. Also, Alan Rickman (Severus Snape, Harry Potter), the corrupt Judge Turpin made a career in music! LOL. He won't be running for the post of Defense of the Dark Arts teacher this time. :D It's man devouring men in here so you'll be expecting more blood, one of the best visual effects ever featured in musical movies. But I suggest the parents have to wait till their kids are in bed not unless you want to stay up late for them.

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A New Addiction On Action

At high school, I never get the chance to have an active life. The only thing I knew was home, my keyboard and homework. Sports? No... I rather cheer than compete. In fact, I cheered on my college days and fortunately it paid off. I get the chance to be part of the second batch of XU Nursing Pythons 5 years ago. I love cheering so much. I know it's weird for a guy who prefers to cheer and it makes me sound queer. Hehe. I was heart-broken at that time so please give me the chance to share my coping strategy but I won't be talking about that this time. Maybe sometime in the future I might but I want to tell you this... I don't want to cheer again. :D Right now, I am so addicted with badminton! It's a fad here but it's the speed the form I like the most. The sound, the crack of the bird once it hit the strings of the racket are like sounds of synthesized brass of DJ Benny Benassi's music. As you strike the bird it simultaneously join the filling of your heart chambers.
I never had a major preparation for this sport but I've been working out in the gym for a year now. I guess I'm physically fit for it. A few months ago, I accompanied a friend to a specialist at a local rehab center. He complained about a sensation he felt on his shoulder during and after playing badminton. He was quiet scared that it might be an impending major disability that will hamper him to play the sport in the future. I told him its precocious to conclude that. The specialist, Dr. Pagdilao of Capitol University Medical City (CUMC) in particular said, "You don't get to play badminton to stay fit but you have to be fit to play badminton." These words were philosophical to me. I mean, a lot of us venture to sports to have that perfectly-shaped bodies of models and athletes but it's the other way around. Playing a sport entails a lot of preparation which does not only include the strenuous endurance training but also your expensive sporting goods. A little financial preparation is essential. Now, going back to my friend he was diagnosed with muscle microfibrillary tear or simply a muscle strain on the minute muscle fibers of his shoulders. He was given some pills to kill the pain but eventually never took them. He was advised to have some sessions with the PT but rather rest than spend 250 bucks.

This evening, I've been searching YouTube for badminton tutorials. Fortunately, I've found a few basic instructions made by Expert Village. You just have to type keywords like: badminton tutorials and there will be a lot of selections to choose from. Tomorrow, I will be playing with my high school friends, yes the badminton fever is contagious. I've encouraged them to play the sport they were really enthusiastic and enjoyed it so much. We are trying to improve our skills so we can bit some of my college batchmates who have just started playing the sport. I'm excited to buy a new racket and I think RSL Millenium 7 X2 series will be ok as of now. I'm not expert on rackets but you have to choose them based on the weight, the tension, and of course the skill. I'm glad that I've remodified my routines. You see, working out in the gym seems boring and a little variety will supplement your ultimate goal-to be fit and healthy.

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The Kite Runner

I was a month old from my newly reactivated, delinquent account of a local video shop somewhere in Divisoria when I came across a lot of nice movies. I got over dues more than 400 bucks from more than 2 years and I'm thinking if I'm going to pay them or not. Inspirational, heart-warming films was my trip last summer and I have rented a lot of feel good movies but this time I want something that will hit me right at my soft spot. For those of you who are living their lives to the fullest, for me, people who are actually dying or coping with something horrible, I recommend, The Kite Runner written by an Afghan author, Khaled Hosseini and directed by award-winning film director Marc Foster. At first I thought it was just another American docu-film or an Indie film but it was produced by Paramount! The plot was during Pre-Soviet Afghanistan in the bustling city of Kabul. It is about 2 boys from different social caste, one was a Pashtun and the other, a Hazara. A story about patching up all the wrong things done in the past. I won't be telling much here OK. I've never expected that Kabul was once a developing and yet peaceful city. It's amazing to know that they experience snow! I often stereotyped Islamic countries to be a land of boundless, scorching deserts well in fact, they're not. The film gave me another point of view on Pre-Taliban Afghanistan. Like other war-afflicted countries, Afghanistan was a beautiful peaceful country. We see what man can do fighting for their ideologies you know. The transition from a democratic to a radical extremist was drastic. Right now, the country is striving for peace and prosperity among all Afghans. I am thinking maybe in the future when things are stable I might visit Kabul and fly kites! :D

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