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Adamsonians in UAE to build stronger link
May 14th, 2008 posted by Ramon Millonte under Living Overseas, Org Announcements. [ Comments: none ]

UAE-based graduates of the University will gather on May 29, 2008 from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. at the Star Boutique Hotel in Dubai for a timely get-together dubbed “Proud to be Adamsonian,” the first ever reunion of Adamsonians working and residing in United Arab Emirates. The assemblage will be an initial move to put up an alumni association based in UAE. University president Fr. Gregorio Bañaga, Jr.,C.M. will be the event’s guest of honor and speaker.

Should you have further queries on the details of this gathering, you may contact Herma Dulay at +971502242725 or e-mail herma.dulay@kbr.com, or thru Ferdie Macanas at +971507683352 or e-mail flmacanas@yahoo.com.



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Ramon Millonte has blogged 17 posts



Sa mga sandaling gaya ngayon
December 31st, 2007 posted by stiban_graffiti under Alumni Stories, Career Tales, Living Overseas. [ Comments: 1 ]

Hindi ko alam kung ano ang mas masarap gawin. Ang isulat ang mga walang kabuluhang naiisip ko o hayaan lang na titigan ang mga ito sa pagitan ng aking mga mata. Parang tatlong pulgada lang mula sa aking noo ang distansya ng blankong kawalang ito na wala naman talagang saysay at anyo para sa akin. Pero ang existence nito ang umuubos sa mabagal na mabilis na takbo ng oras ko.

Hanggang ngayon, mas malubha pa nga siguro sa isang schizophrenic at sa isang taong bangag at tulala ang kalagayan ko sa mga sandaling na ito. Mas mainam pa nga sila minsan kasi nabibigyan nila ng katauhan at pangalan ang mga nililikha ng isipan nila pero para sa akin, kahit isang butil na anyo ay wala akong maturan.

Kahit na mag-ubos pa siguro ako ng isang tangkeng yogurt sa kakaisip sa blankong kawalan na ito ay mauuwi lang ako sa estadong pinagmulan ko. Alam ko madalas blangko ang isip ko, yung walang maisip pero nag-iisip ng wala - ginugulo ako ng kawalan. Kaya nga marahil mas masarap pa lasingin ko na lamang ang aking sarili sa kakatitig dito kasi hindi ko naman talaga maisusulat ito kasi kahit na tuldok ay wala akong mailalagay. Ewan ko ba. Parang nag-ii-skydiving ang isipan ko parati. Pag tinatanung ako kung ano ang iniisip ko, ang prangkang sagot ko ay ‘wala lang’. Ayaw nilang maniwala sa sagot ko at sasabihin nila na baka me problema ako. Ano magagawa ko? Iyon naman kasi talaga ang madalas na iniisip ko. Wala. O kaya, marahil ay naghihintay lang ako sa pagsulpot ng isang bastos na screensaver ni Sora Aoi sa harapan ko.

O kaya, marahil ay tinititigan ko lang ang marahang paghagod ng saglit habang pinapatigil ko ang pagkatunaw nito. O kaya naman ay nais ko lang magpahinga sa kakaisip sa mga bagay na walang kwenta at me kwenta. At siguro nais ko lang na kahit minsan ay maging malaya ako sa mga ito. O kaya rin ay gusto ko lang sigurong makatakas pansamantala sa obligasyon kong mag-isip nang hindi umiinom ng muriatic acid o nagpapakalunod sa panis na katotohanan na lahat ng tao ay mga _________ lamang at ang mundong ito ay isang malaking _________ kagaya ko.

Minsan, pag dinadalaw ako nito upang titigan sya ay nagpapakabingi na lang ako sa mga pinirata kong piniratang MP3. Kahit hindi ko pakinggan ang lyrics ng paborito kong kanta ng Imago ay sapat na sa akin na maramdaman na kahit 245 seconds ay mas pinili ko na magpakaanod kasama ng diwa ni Aia gaya ng isang candy wrapper sa marahas na pag-agos ng tubig habang hindi alintana kung saang bangin ba nito ako itatapon matapos. Pikit-mata ko na lamang uling hahagkan ang malansang mundo tutal wala namang kabuluhang problemahin pa ito.

Inakala ko dati mas masarap makipag-unahan sa mundo kaysa titigan lamang ito mula sa isang sulok. Pero tila ba sa saglit na magawa mo nang maunahan ito, at malampasan ang lahat ng ginawa at nagsulputang problema, at mapagtawanan ang de-pisong masa, at madurhan ang masaklap na kahapon, at mabigyan ng katanungan ang mga sagot mo, at masipa ng ilang kwadrilyong ulit ang mga sandaling pagtakas ay mapapansin mo na wala pala talagang kabuluhan ang lahat ng mga ito. Pagkatapos ng lahat, wala ka nang kabuluhan. Marahil wala ngang kabuluhan ang tunay na kabuluhan ng lahat. Sa takot at lungkot lang naman natin talaga nag-uugat ang saysay ng lahat ng ating ilusyon.

Andito lang naman siguro tayo para pagmasdan ang pagsikat ng araw at ang paglubog nito. Upang pagmasdan ang pagkabigo at pagkasawi ng lahat, ang pagiging ampaw ng tao, ang pagdating ng bago at ang pag-alis ng luma. Bawat paglipas ng saglit ay senyales ng unti-unti nating pagkatalo sa oras.

Alam ko me kahulugan ang mga bagay subalit hindi ko alam ang kahulugan ng kahulugan nito. Ginugulo ko lang ata siguro ang 1 GB (gagobyte) na isipan ko.

Pero hindi ko pa rin alam, madalas hindi ako pinapatulog ng naiisip kong ewan. Bigla na lang na magigising ako mula sa aking pagkakatulog upang lingunin ang hangin, pero kahit ang hangin ay walang kinalaman kasi pakiwari ko nasa vacuum ako o nasa puyo ng isang black hole na bigla na lamang sumusulpot sa sintido ko at nakikihigop rin sa hindi ko naubos na Pepsi. Subukan ko mang bigyan ng anyo ang nilalang na nasa harapan ko sa pagbuga ng usok dito mula sa nahinging yosing hinihithit ko ngayon ay wala ring maitutulong. At gaya ng dati, gaya nung mga nakaraang araw, gaya nung mga nakaraang mental eclipses, eleksyon at dinastiya, kahit usok, kahit imahinasyon, kahit isang patinig ay pawang naduduwag na hubaran ang gumugulo sa akin.

Marahil, siguro, ang blankong kawalan na nakalutang sa harapan ng mga mata ko ngayon ay reflection lamang ng tunay na pagkatao ko. Isang blank space na nabigyan ng obligasyong mabuhay at nakatakda ring mawalan nito upang ibalik din sa tunay nitong anyo. At marahil, sa sandaling iyon, maiintindihan ko na ang lahat-lahat.

At marahil hindi na nga rin talaga.



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stiban_graffiti has blogged 9 posts



Chronicles of An Appendectomy (posted at ownlegacy.com)
September 30th, 2007 posted by erwinilao under Family Life, Living Overseas, Uncategorized. [ Comments: 2 ]

I had my very first surgery last Sunday, courtesy of an inflammed appendix. It started like a bloated feeling on my stomach, much more like you want to pass gas but can’t. I thought that was all there was to it, so mustering all that my manlihood can stand I held on for 12 hours, hoping that the pain will subside once I fart it out. Never in my life have I wished that hard so I can pass gas but none came.

By the early hours of Sunday morning I was in terrible pain. With my wife and the kids still asleep, I managed to get to the car and drive 1 mile to the emergency room at Kaiser. Walked in through the empty waiting room. It was a perfect time. 5am of Sunday morning and no one to compete with for medical attention. In five minutes I was checked by the admissions, interviewed by the triage nurse and was on my way to the bed. An IV line was inserted and an attending resident came about an hour after.

I felt the sensation of the pain medication they gave intravenously. Almost instantly the pain was gone and I was feeling comfortable. They still have to determine the cause of it though and was told to wait two hours for the CAT scan to be performed. They let me drink two cupsful of something that tasted like lemonade. I wanted to sleep since I was tired and groggy. I texted my wife to tell her that I am scheduled for a CAT scan within two hours. Oh yeah, and that I was in the emergency room having driven by myself without their knowledge, so that I do not die in pain. It was something like that.

Minutes after she was calling me back. Since the signal was terrible I just asked her to text whatever message she has. I wanted to sleep and it would rob me sometime if I go on explaining what was happening to me. Not that I know what was happening already. It’s futile as far as I can see. If I have bothered them with the pain, would they be of any help? Or would the serious and overly concern that I am bound to receive just be a cause of further agitation I would not want. Face your battles, minimize casualties and stand like a man. That’s why I did not want to inform them.

The two hours waiting for the CAT scan was Godsent. I was able to sleep well and get my thoughts straightened out. I texted my boss of what was happening to me. He has to find me a replacement for work. He wished me well. Somehow I was uncertain of what might become of me but I was not terrified since I knew that I am in the hospital and receiving proper attention. A staff nurse came by explaining to me what is supposed to happen. She asked a whole history of my medical condition. No. I am not allergic. No. I have never been like that. First time. Yes. Wait let me think. No. I guess.. Just how many people pay attention to their medical history when they are healthy is beyond me. I mean, I do not know who in my family got this and that. Only now that I am being asked do I ask myself back. Did mom have diabetes? Do we have a history of allergy to medications? Well, I got through the quiz and was being asked now if I have an Advanced Medical Directive. (Well if you do not know what that is, go to www.ownlegacy.com/mydirective.php ). I said yes, well, of course. I am the founder of a fabulous website that is the only one to feature such thing. The nurse just looked at me and asked me to sign the papers in her hand. And oh, she added that they usually ask for the patient to shell out the co-payment before surgery and that was two hundred dollars, but she could wait till after, just for me. Oh geeze, lesson learned, do not forget your wallet stuffed with cash, when you go to the emergency room. I just said “bill me later”. I guess that would guarantee a better service huh? They have to make sure I come out of this alive.

Okay so we went through the scan. The iodine solution used to detect any blockage in my anatomy shot through my veins up to the tip of my tongue like warm milk. I was laying flat on my side as the machine moved forward and backward, arching over my whole body. A male voice which sounded like an elevator operator said “breathe” and “hold your breath”, as I moved forward and backward through the machine. It was over in five minutes and was wheeled back to my station. 

The CAT scan results showed that my gall bladder was ok but my appendix was inflammed. I need surgery right away. I asked if I could get something non-invasive. The doctor said no and that it is a simple surgery and would be over in less than an hour. I could go home within the day. Well, I wanted to go home..but what are the other options? Just ignore it and wait till it ruptures and kills you. Ok well said, let’s do the operation now then, doc. They let me wait four hours for it. A surgeon checked on me. A young Chinese looking 30-ish something. Female. Took a look at my spread eagled legs and checked ME out. Normal procedure mind you. They have seen thousands they do not know the difference. She pointed where they are going to insert a camera to do the laparoscopy. A semi invasive surgery that would take out my appendix without cutting me. Less time spent on the hospital, less pain and faster recovery. She was saying straight out that I would be ok and that this is simple and that I would be able to go home. What am I supposed to decide on anyway? They had me on “Let it rupture and kill you.” So the nice doctor left to get her team ready for my first operation. 

A team of five. Introduced themselves one by one. Made me feel at ease. Nice knowing their names since the would operate on me anyway. They took turns looking at ME. No judgements there, I suppose. Normal procedure. The have seen thousands like this they don’t know the difference. Somebody said “shave”…a little poking..did i hear someone say “this looks huge”?..oh I was just dreaming. I passed out completely. 

A tug on my shoulder woke me up. I am alive. It has been two hours since the operation and all they want me to do now is pee and go home. Wow that simple. I tried to focus on where I was. The recovery room. I was alone with two staff nurses I have not seen previously. The male nurse gave me a plastic bottle. Relax and try to pee. Ok that would be easy. I stood up. Held the bottle and waited. Nothing came out. One more time. Nothing happened. Did they screw this up? Might have nipped the wrong thing and cut off my penis.  Is there a hole there still where my pee can come out? I was now writhing in pain, much more painful than I previously felt. My bladder was bursting and putting pressure on my newly operated insides. Stop this please! I swear I won’t hold off peeing anymore, just let this pass. They must have given something to sedate me for the terrible pain eased a little and I passed out again. 

The tingle was still there when I woke up. It felt like there were salt crystals blocking the base of my manlihood and it is rendering him useless. To say that it is useless is an understatement. But it more than actually is. The nurse said that it is normal. Yeah I heard that before. The effects of the narcotics is slowing or impeding my urinary functions. I have to drink a lot of water and let it pass out. But through where? They waited an hour more to see if I could pee by myself. No success. No choice either, but to insert a catheter and let it go through a urine bag. That’s the only way to get the pressure out. So they had me on my back again, spread eagled, again, and poking again. A shot of pain ripped through my “other” head as the tube went in and pee passed out. 400 ccs of waste went out my system and instantly relieved my bladder.

And then they made a mistake. They took out the catheter expecting everything to be normal after sending me home. Or were they just cutting cost? I wonder. 

After six hours post-operative care at home, I was shaking once more because I could not void. (void is a medical term for peeing). I asked my wife to bring me back to the emergency room after consulting with a stand by nurse on the phone. The trip to the emergency room was an excruciating experience. Every little bump on the road leads to an indescribable pressure up my groin and would make me shake all over. By the time I got through admissions and triage, the nurses know exactly what was wrong. My blood pressure was 165 over 100 and I was convulsing. A little interview about what I have gone through the past 24 hours gave them the idea that they have to stick in the catheter again to decompress the bladder. After probing and checking for other wounds that might have been the source of the pain, they had me on foley. I am able to breathe once more. God. People do not have the slightest idea how lucky they are to be able to pee normally. With a newfound sense of appreciation for my thingy, I comfortably got out of the emergency room without a wheelchair and headed straight home, a urine bag strapped to my legs from where a tube leads all the way to my penis. Poetic. The feeling of being able to breathe normally, much more appreciated. Every gasp of air counts. No pressure on the bladder. Don’t care about the bag strapped to my right leg. I am normal as far I know. 

My kids asked me a lot of questions when I got home. It was Monday morning and my wife had to juggle between what the kids and I need. When they got through showers and dressing up and breakfast and packed lunches, finally she was able to focus on me. I could tell how this was affecting her. She managed to do what needs to be done. A little after we talked about why I did not tell her I was going to the E.R. and why I did not wake her up when I was in pain. Same rationale. Fight your battles. Minimize the conflict and stand like a man. She won’t get it. Just dropped the subject off after promising not to do it again. When the kids came back from school they were sympathetic. My eldest was asking if I had a good day resting. My youngest stepped on my bag and sent shivers up my tubehead. I could use some more rest.

I wish the story ends here. I have been going back and forth emptying the bag since I first started to write. But there is one final chapter in this chronicle of an appendectomy.

I was scheduled for a urology visit come Tuesday at 1130am. Time to say goodbye to my beloved catheter. The nurse had me void 400 ccs of the 300 she put in me just to see if I could go on without any tube. It was a success. Finally, I am free. No bags, tubes or pressure. Went home and celebrated with a meal and a steady stream of iced tea lemonade. Went to bed. Turned on the DVR. Relaxed at last. Then it started again. A little sting at the base of my penis. Rushed to the bathroom. Come on. I did this once. Pee.. For heaven’s sake…

A little after 4pm Tueday, an ambulance parked two houses away. Two paramedics came out. I was stuck in the toilet seat. Could not move. Shaking, perspiring. I do not know how close I may have come to meeting death but I swear I nearly met mine. My wife would say, “Ow, don’t be overly dramatic, you just can’t pee!”, but I swear I would have prefered something else. 

They hauled me out in a wheelchair. A flight of chairs, and a hundred steps from the front door of my house to where they parked, each movement just killing me. Never mind my neighbors staring out of their windows. But quite a lot turned out. I was wearing only my boxers, a shirt and socks. A healthy thirty year old cussing and swearing as the paramedics slipped me into the ambulance. A sight they would not forget. 

Normal procedure. The have done this many times. For me, what turned out to be the first was to become the third trip to the emergency room. What an experience. Something every man should never have to. But might. Somehow.

I have tuned out about 2000 ml of fluid since starting this blog. Before they take this catheter out again it would be two weeks. I wonder how many more blogs I could write between now and then.

If you want to comfort me just write me a note. I have nothing to do for a week.        



Tags: erwinilao, life, health

erwinilao has blogged 16 posts



Malu Fernandez’s shit has hit the fan
September 8th, 2007 posted by JB under Career Tales, Living Overseas. [ Comments: 7 ]

This has been raging all over the OFW interwebs, and I had sort of ignored it because many other people much angrier (and have every right to be so) than I am have already poured out their rage using the most colorful language you can think of. It’s about this “lifestyle writer” Malu Fernandez and some article she wrote for People Asia. It’s about how Malu “suffered” from the OFWs’ “AXE and Charlie cologne” while her ‘Jo Malone melted into thin air’.

Funny because the first thing I’ve read was Malu’s defense of her write-up some days ago, not the actual controversial thing itself, insisting that she had meant it to be funny. When I finally saw these two pages of nouveau riche drivel, I have to admit Malu indeed fucked up. Yes, indeed it was funny — but only when told to a close circle of like-minded parvenu friends, and not as something that everybody smarter than Malu’s (presumably perfumed) pet chihuahua can read.

Here’s one of the more eloquent “rebuttals” from someone named Ingrid Holm:

***

Dear Malu Fernandez

FIRST OF ALL, How nouveau riche can one get? Did you marry rich? Did you suddenly come in to money? Your blatant displays of your ‘luxuries’ and ‘wealth’ and your comfort with using the word ‘elitist’ to describe yourself alongside the fact that you had to reference to ‘politicians in your family’ show that even if you did come from money, you certainly have no class.

You also seem to need to name-drop in every article that you write.

It really gets to me that you should complain about the coach seats on your Emirates flight. Honey, they aint small… YOU’RE FAT. Spare yourself some doughnuts and maybe your travels will be more comfortable… coach, or not.

MOST IMPORTANTLY. That you would put down OFW’s (Overseas Filipino Workers) is really DISGUSTING. It makes you sound more vile than what you described as the scent of their ‘AXE and Charlie cologne’ while your ‘Jo Malone melted into thin air’. Honey, without that perfume, you want to know what you smell like? Like a fat Filipino woman. The smell is probably more putrid than the smell of those OFW’s. Cause they sweat honest, hard-working sweat. The kind of sweat that keeps the Filipino economy going. They’re fucking brave. They’ve seen more than you, felt more than you, and fought more than you. You’re just a coddled fat Filipino woman, under all of that cologne, and that branded clothing that makes you feel more important than them.

It sounds to me like you get to fly Business Class when you travel for work, but when you had to pay for your own travels, coach was more affordable. You tried to hide this by grandiose references to your perfume and your designer wear, didn’t you? Tsk tsk…

You made some mention of having 17kg’s of make-up in your hand-carry. All the make-up and adornments in the world can’t hide how ugly you are inside. You aint that good-looking either, hon. Go to the gym, eat some fruits. You wrote that you wanted to slit your wrists because you were stuck in coach with all the OFW’s. I am MOVED every time I am on a flight with OFW’s. I am reminded of their resilience. Of how hard they work, and how they keep the Philippines going. The economy relies on their bravery. You should have slit your wrists, hon. And you are going to hell if you don’t change the way you think. Think of sitting in coach, imagining your personal hell as a personal foreshadowing.

I have lived in the Philippines, and I have also traveled the world. I’ve probably been to as many if not more places than you, seen more things than you, so maybe despite all of this money you seem to need to brandish and the places you have been to, you’re just an ignorant. This coming from a 20 year old girl.

You’re act isn’t classy. You’re not pretentious. You’re just some stupid woman, living in a third world country, thinking that because you jetted off to Greece and you wear Jo Malone perfume, you are suddenly something.

Take this from someone with the same ’socio-economic background’ as you, bitch. What a pitiful excuse.

I also happen to read things ‘thicker than magazines’, I go to University in London where I will finish with an Honors Bachelors Degree in May. I have a 1 year Marketing Economics degree from a business school in Oslo, and I graduated with an International Baccalaureate Diploma at age 17, if you were wondering. So no fucking excuses.

You could do so much more than you think, yet you choose to act like a proper twat. The kind of twat that people with some brains laugh at, the world over. Think of this as some more exposure.

I am ashamed of people like you.

OFW’S all over the world, working their tits off, deserve a public apology.

**

Scans of Malu Fernandez’s write-up on People Asia.

Page 1: (Click to see the large version)

Page 2:



Tags: Malu+Fernandez, People+Asia

JB has blogged 120 posts



And speaking of Dubai…
September 7th, 2007 posted by JB under Living Overseas. [ Comments: 1 ]

Two photos that show Dubai’s “transformation” in 14 years. Just click for the larger versions.



Tags: Dubai

JB has blogged 120 posts



“20 reasons why you should not go to Dubai”
September 1st, 2007 posted by JB under Living Overseas. [ Comments: 5 ]

I have a fair amount of good-lookin’ friends who currently work in Dubai, so I wonder if this “20 reasons to ditch Dubai” list has any truth in it?

Any violent reaction?

And yes, Maureen, you should be first post.



JB has blogged 120 posts



Calling all Adamsonian Alumni in UAE
June 22nd, 2007 posted by ferdinandlm under Current Events, Living Overseas. [ Comments: 5 ]

Invitation to all Adamson Alumni here in United Arab Emirates.

All those interested to join to unite all our Adamsonian Alumni here in the UAE. On July 12, 2007 at Jollibee Karama 8 PM. We encourage you to join and bring also or inform all those Adamsonians you know here in the UAE. We consider this as our 1st Meeting for this year.

For details, please contact me or Herma Dulay.

Here’s our contact number:

FERDINAND L. MACANAS- 050-7683352, E-MAIL-eidref.l.macanas@gmail.com

HERMA DULAY-050-2242725, email-herma.dulay@kbr.com



ferdinandlm has blogged 1 posts



The Perfect Time to be Brave: A love story
May 7th, 2007 posted by rheytard under Bits & Pieces, Literary, Living Overseas, Love Stories, Random Thoughts, Uncategorized. [ Comments: 4 ]

I am crazy about this guy who has a girlfriend of 5 years (I think) in the Philippines. Although we have both already agreed to let whatever-this-thing-is-between-us go, I still am hung up on the dude.

It started out like all normal friendship. I was recovering from a relationship that ended because of distance (and a third party that involved another man from his side) and he was just there for me. Apart from the lingering handshake and the occasional touching of the arms, the connection between us was nothing physical. We were partners, emotionally and spiritually. And I couldn’t go through a day without knowing what went on with his. My world was his world. And I guess I was entirely to blame because I allowed myself to fall. Although I knew I was special to him, I knew that he wouldn’t allow himself to fall for me because he already had someone else. 

He is on leave at the moment, vacationing in the Philippines to be with his family and the love of his life. Before he left, we had our usual bonding time talking about life and being happy in general. I was happy for him, because after 21 months of being away he is finally going home. I was sad for me, because I was going to miss him and I knew he would be with ‘her’. He said he would miss me and that he would always think of me.

A month before his scheduled leave, I made a mistake of telling him I loved him. No, I did not say I had feelings for him or that I liked him. I told him I LOVED HIM. And that it is so hard to be content with just being friends. He said that I was his most beloved friend and if only things were different, he wouldn’t have hesitated to be ‘the guy’ for me. But he already had someone. And he had principles and that he couldn’t do anything else but stick to those principles…

That night I told him I loved him for the first and last time. I cried myself to sleep and I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him anymore.

But guys are rational beings. And I was the only person emotionally affected. Even if I tried to ignore him, he would say hey. He would try to act the same normal irritating midget that he was. He sent me an SMS asking if we could be just like before because he is having a hard time not having anything to do with me. I was so much a part of his life that he didn’t want to let go of that. I said, if ever he needs me, I will always be here.

I continued to ignore him after that message. He gave up trying to get the way we were back eventually. I did my best to fight off the feeling of wanting to be in his life.

Until two nights before he was going to go…

It was Thursday. (Thursday night is Choir practice for us and usually we sleep over afterwards and played Ping-Pong till we die) He shook my hand really tight that night when he saw me and said that he was looking for me. I told him I was just there, busy. We had choir practice and when everyone left, we played table tennis. Now everyone else was tired but I had too much chocolate and soda in my system which got me all hyper and I guess he was excited about leaving that he couldn’t sleep anymore. We played 5 games (I beat him in 4) and I told him to go to sleep. He asked me if I was going to sleep, I told him i’m too energized to sleep.

So I got a chair and sat down at the Ping-Pong table with a box full of stuff we had to organize and started to work. He sat with me and started talking. I asked him if he was excited about leaving. He said he wished he didn’t have to go back and that he was happy here. I told him that I know he would be happier there. He said ‘di siguro’ (I don’t think so). And I told him that it’s a great feeling that someone you love and loves you is waiting for you but nothing beats being reunited with that someone. (Secretly I was wishing his girlfriend would break up with him and he would come back to me. and I would be fixin’ his broken heart).

He kept denying that he would have a great time, (which comforted me at some levels) but I knew he would have the time of his life and that he would hate coming back… He would hate coming back to me)

At four in the morning, the effect of the sugar started to wear off and I told him that we should really go to sleep. He said he missed spending time with me like this. I told him I guess we were both just busy. He said I was just out of reach all the time. I knew he was right.

The next morning, he wore the shirt I gave him for Christmas. It was the last day I was going to see him. We didn’t talk. And I was sad about that.

The day he was leaving he called me and I gave him some tips about traveling. We laughed most of the conversation and I told him not to forget me. And he promised he wouldn’t.

5 minutes before his plane took off he sent me an sms telling me that he would miss me. my heart broke but I knew that what he said would change as soon his plane lands in Manila.

Right now, he is probably with her, renewing whatever commitments they made to one another, vowing to wait until the time is right… making plans to make babies in the future… roasting marshmallows in the summer heat… having the time of their lives… the thought of me erased from his mind…

I have learned that saying how you feel does not necessarily make things better, most of the time it makes things awkward and weird. It does not magically make someone realize that they actually think you are right. It just lets them know that you have these crazy ideas in your head.

Taking chances does not really mean you would win. It only means you were brave enough to do something about your life. I wanted him to love me back and I took the chance by telling him.

I didn’t win. But I was brave.

It was a stupid time to pick being brave though but at least I was brave.



Tags: , lost, life

rheytard has blogged 2 posts



A snowy day in London
February 18th, 2007 posted by arlene.p under Alumni Stories, Living Overseas. [ Comments: 1 ]

It snowed in London a week ago. It was a Thursday and my mum and I had already planned to go to Billings Gate (London’s fish market where you could buy any seafood imaginable at reasonable prices!). Not even a snow storm could cancel our plans(some friends wold come to visit during the weekend and we had to go no matter what!). It took us more than 30 minutes to get on the bus and the usual 30 minute ride took an hour! It was snowing like mad when we got off and Billings Gate was still a 10 minute walk away (without snow, an endless 20 minutes on a snow-covered ground!). My face was numb from the cold, and I kept on telling my mum that I am probably suffering from frost bite! I was exaggerating of course, but I was very, very cold. Anyway, we got what we wanted but not without a cold. I was sneezing on our way back, never again will I go out when it is snowing!

Most Filipinos who travel pray for the snow. There is probably no Filipino abroad, without a snow pic somewhere. It is just too hot and too humid in the Philippines and the cold weather gives us a breather. it is also something new to us, and almost everybody looks forward to something new. But the snow could be something of a disaster, it affects the traffic and London that day had travel delays everywhere, it was a nightmare! After the experience, I prefer a sunny day.



arlene.p has blogged 3 posts


 


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