10:22 PM Tuesday, November 29, 2005


defined by as:

1) A sense of one's own proper dignity or value; self-respect.
2) Pleasure or satisfaction taken in an achievement, possession, or association
3) An excessively high opinion of oneself; conceit.


As a child, I grew up watching my Dad governed by this, and sometimes negatively.

Worse, I acknowledged very early in life that my Dad and I are too much alike where PRIDE is concerned, esply with regards our baser motivations.


There was once this CHARMED episode where the sisters and Leo were consumed by one of the 7 deadly sins each.

Leo became a sloth. Phoebe became uber carnal. Piper got real greedy.

And Prue kept making 'sacrifices' and 'big decisions'.

Only, she was making them with PRIDE, ergo, no sacrifice was sacrifice because it was self-serving in that she was indirectly affirming herself. She was being good, look, see... bravo!


I've wondered many times if having a sense of responsibility generally comes with being the eldest. And being female.

And certain theories of personality seem to support that idea... attributing a greater sense of responsibility to the eldests, who were generally asked to grow up for their younger sibling/s, thereby also growing up to be more neurotic...

And a sense of responsibility may just be the manifestation of a female's baser longing to be secure... who really can tell.


Pride has went before many of my falls. Usually, it's the general folly of believing myself exempt from the laws of nature, and human nature... turning a blind eye even when there are already warning signs and sirens ringing...

But sometimes I also wonder, how much of my life has been motivated by false/negative pride?

How much of the good i've done and chosen was done and chosen because I really wanted it for myself, and I really believed it was good... and how much was fuelled by the nasty desire to just look better than other people? To be able to say I was above whatever?

Someone once said that shame and honor are just two sides of the same coin... what about pride? Is it just the other side of dignity and integrity?

And when someone tells you that you're a fake, only doing good to lord it over others... and you hurt... do you hurt because he got it right? or because he was so wrong?

allergies again

7:31 PM Saturday, November 26, 2005


All I knew was I ate pancakes for breakfast. One pancake actually from a MAYA mixture (with egg), to which I added less than a teaspoon of syrup. (May I just add that we have the same every 3 weeks or so for breakfast, it's all regular fare)

Within 20 minutes, my eyes started getting red and itchy and well... swell-y. I also started getting itchy all over. I also started gasping for breath. I also had to vomit out what I had for breakfast.

And then everything just got worse... even after a 10 mg. Iterax.

As fate would have it, Wednesday found me forcing my cousin to make a decision of bringing Pyro with her to accompany me to the ER. Nobody else was home. I couldn't wait for JRA anymore because I was red-blue in the face already.

It took every ounce of will to live to get dressed and walk the length of our street. I had to squat on the pavement and WILL myself to be able to wait till I get help... while my cousin flagged cab after cab after cab.

It seemed like forever before fate smiled upon me that morning.

Good thing the driver got equally alarmed at how PUFFED and RED I was getting... he drove maniacally!

Good thing too, that MaDocs ER was a little quiet.

The security guard assisted my cousin instead of me (I had the PRESENCE OF MIND and VANITY to don a pair of shades), seeing her carrying a bald tot with a mask on.


After 2 drugs (IV), 2 nebulization cycles (which caused tremors the whole day) and some 5 hours of oxygen... I was stable enough to be sent home.

I just missed an anaphylactic shock that could have really spoiled my LIVING plans.


Doctors and nurses alike coo'd over Pyro, who was slipperless and sockless, and found him too cute for words.

Oh and yeah, they were a fan of Jack-Jack too, which Py happened to be clutching with him to the hospital.

Weirdly enough, he didn't call attention to himself, and didn't show panic.

I had the PRESENCE OF MIND again to ask my cousin to cover his eyes lest he gets traumatized.


JRA spent the whole Tues night at work. Imagine having me call him at 7:30 AM that Wednesday morning, gasping for breath, telling him he has to bring me to the hospital.

Imagine him being unable to immediately get a cab too... and fearing he can't get to me in time during the long ride from Bicutan to MaDocs...

Talk about a bad morning for my beloved.

And to further demonstrate how stressed and rattled he was... he arrived on the scene, watching me twitch here and there (because my body was panicking and not relaxing enough to let to oxygen do its work), and immediately grabbed my wrist...


Exactly where the IV needle was (see, in case I don't respond to the drugs, they'd have to inject me some more, and left this needle with some sort of stopper on my right wrist).

I had the PRESENCE OF MIND to slap his arm!


I was actually CALM inside, while doctors and nurses and interns surrounded my bed. In fact, I was even talkative... always motioning to my cousn to tell the good care givers that I managed to take one lousy antihistamine... that they could call my allergologist if things get really BAD... that am allergic to pain relievers... that it was the first time I got rashes that's not from liquor-intake, etc

I even had the PRESENCE OF MIND to don nice undies (although I kept wondering talaga why nobody at the ER thought to unclasp my brassiere... like duh, that's SOP in giving first aid, esply since I was there not because I looked like Garfield, but because I was like a fish out of sea) in case they have to open my shirt up and revive me using electric gadgets that are no fun...

I even had the PRESENCE OF MIND to tell myself that I'd blog about JRA and the needle thing... OUCH!


We didn't know just how blessed we were that day.

I was lying in my bed, naked (because I was freshly showered...and till about 10 minutes ago planned to go to work, as usual), coughing as I tried to NOT PANIC and SUMMON chocolates (because I knew I wouldn't eat sugar by the spoonful)...

Pyro's sleep was seemingly disturbed by my coughing...

He started crying... he's been a bawler since he got sick... so there I was, fighting to LIVE...

While aching because for the first time in our lives, I couldn't come to comfort my nephew...

And I couldn't then really shout for my cousin (who was downstairs, in the CR).

I heard footsteps and then I heard my cousin saying soothing words... and Pyro quieted down.

It was only after we've gone home and all... during dinner at that, that we realized that PYRO WENT DOWNSTAIRS ON HIS OWN!

I thought Ate Gang went to him.

Ate Gang thought I brought Pyro down.

When we realized this, we knew how narrowly we missed real tragedy that day.

For Py, cryng and in his PJs, could have easily fallen down the stairs... smack dab into this computer (with table).

Worst case scenario... internal hemorrhaging (like what did Dolphy's 4th child in) for him...

And i'd still have been upstairs, clutching my neck for breath.

And my cousin, bless her, could have lost either or both of us.

Thank heavens for the guardian angel watching over him.


I was CALM. But because I was groggy, I mistook the 12 o'clock prayer as someone giving someone else his last rites.

And true enough, seeing all doctors and nurses and interns surrounding another bed... and covering it up... I felt pity that someone didn't make it.

That someone turned out ALIVE (still)... and a celebrity to boot. Seems Wycoco had an aneurism or something... (am too lazy to search for updates about his health, sorry).


Thursday found my a$$ in so much pain.

A visit to my allergologist resulted in:
1) a change in prescription (seems i didn't need the steroids offered by Claricort)
2) a schedule of desensitization treatments (to last for 3-5 months, and cover 8 allergens... which will hopefully protect me for 3 years) next year (which basically means more injections)
3) knowledge that am the 10th case my doctor has met who got allergic reactions from eating pancakes... and that it could be because the mix was contaminated, by either a bug or a tear in the packaging (which can only ba FATAL to people like me, as proven by my entire household who ate the same thing that morning)
4) a strict change in diet to follow for a month
5) Globulin (antibodies) shots on my dorsogluteal (PIGE) that's still sore till now
6) an emergency kit prescription

It's allergy season for me, based from my skin allergy test (based on the aero-allergens and perennials)... and with the wedding stress, my allergologist wasn't surprised my immune system was DOWN... thus, the exaggerated hypersensitivity. Thus, the need to boost my immune system, if only for the next 3 months.

Anyway, fellow sufferers from allergic rhinitis, and drug and food allergies... am not advising you get all the treatments, tests am getting. But it would be wise to discuss them with your doctor, and let yourself have options...

The skin test, for example, can at least show you which food/allergens can combine and connive to bring about a rhinitis episode... and which things to avoid when you're desperately trying NOT TO GET SICK...

The antibodies shot, on the other hand, can offer relief for those who break out in hives/rashes when cold season is upon us (and seemingly for no other reason, and the rashes appear usually a night).

The emergency kit is actually just an Adrenaline/Epinephrine ampule and syringe/needle... but you'd need someone who can CORRECTLY get .2 cc and inject you with it... Overdose of such COULD BE FATAL. And administration is only justified when the patient is having trouble breathing.

Angioedema (rashes and swelling of eyes) isn't enough. But when air passages constrict, then it really is an emergency!


I've just consumed half of my intended budget for a new fone on medical bills/expenses.

And my digicam is still broken.

I have every right to feel bad!

And every reason to feel blessed.

I hated it.

Ooohhh... I was realistic about not everything being included in the movie (otherwise it's going to require some 3 movies!) and things being tweaked a little to make the movie able to stand on its own (as a movie that's part of a series).

But wtf were they thinking, messing up with Dumbledore's character?


Where was his calm, his quiet command of people's respect and attention?

Why was he violent and agitated and twitchy like a ferret?


And because Dumbledore is such a large part of Harry Potter...and seeing him portrayed like that... I hated the movie.

I'd have been able to forgive the fact that Mad Eye was porky, or that Madame Maxime was not... or that there was no reference to the Triwizard winnings (crucial to the Weasley twins' confidence in the next book to leave Hogwarts).. or there was no Molly Weasley anywhere... or that Harry worked the Gryffindor common room with his egg... or that Hermione seemed flighty... or the lack of information as to why Ron, Hermione and Cho were put to sleep under the lake... or that both Cho and Fleur disappointed where looks are concerned... etc

But Dumbledore acting like he was Mad Eye... grrr talaga!!!!

aside: the writers and director seemed to be in love with the Weasley twins however, giving them additional lines and tricks to do in the movie...

But ok... Ralph Fiennes was PERFECT. He oozed madness and charm and his voice was just right.

The woman who played Rita Skeeter was also delightful.


re-read the GoF book before watching the movie. Also finished re-reading HBP.

For more nitpicking, click here.


9:39 AM Wednesday, November 09, 2005

You know how girls, esply if they're expecting nookie, would make sure they coordinate their undies (like both color black, or coordinates talaga)?

I've never been one of them.

Weirdly enough, I coordinate the color of my undies depending on what color my top/skirt/pants is. Sure, i'd sometimes be wearing black panties and brassiere... but mostly my panties and bra don't match. And because I wear thongs to avoid panty lines and not to make myself feel sexy, I usually wear cotton boyleg undies with jeans.

And banking on the truth that guys don't really care if your undies match (though yes, it's nicer to look at if they match), my undies seldom match even when I am expecting to get laid.

Good thing though that most of my undies have shades of pink, or are red, or black.

But yet another reason for the mismatch is my slightly bigger nips than the average Jane's. That, coupled with the fact that I don't care for heavily padded bras and scared of Nipless, means that I spend a lot of time matching bra with the top I want to wear.

So even if I intended to wear matching undies... i'd sometimes end with a red bra even if I had black panties on, just so I can wear the top I want.

So yes, there'd be discarded outfits and bras on my bed before I am thru dressing up.


maybe i fell in love by chance? my mind tells me dat i dont have a chance, my heart tells me dat its never felt dis way b4 and dat it wont get another chance

- text message from someone, 08 Oct 2000

Mind you, nothing happened between us. But I was sooo kilig with this text. And I liked this guy very much. One of those i'd always hold dear in my heart because in a way, everything was perfect with us. Maybe because nothing happened and we didn't reach a point where we'd have to really hurt each other.

He's sweet and intelligent and nice-looking and charming and attentive and thoughtful. Gave me white chocolate the first time we met.

He was also a lot younger than I was... 19 years old when I just turned 23.

Last I heard, he's happy as a lark with his girlfriend.

(and yes Ayma, you know him)


(author unknown)

i climbed the door and opened the stairs
said my pyjamas and put on my prayers
i turned off the bed and crawled into light
all because you kissed me goodnight

next morning i woke, scrambled the shoes and polished the eggs
toasted the news ansd read the bread
i couldn't tell my left from right
all because you kissed me goodnight

that evening at last i'm my normal self again
so i picked my mom and called the phone
spoke to my puppy and threw dad a bone
even at midnight the sun is still shining bright
all because you kissed me goodnight.

can't remember when i was this kilig... buckling knees and all... o high school days and college days, and every windang phase since...


Ngapz, if you got time... read how i am a Manila Girl


1:21 PM Thursday, November 03, 2005

Am sure a lot of people have heard already that there is such a thing as a Make-A-Wish Foundation. And I know there is a Philippine counterpart to this American original.

Mainly, we'd catch features of kids with cancer who have always dreamed to go to Disneyland, or a beach, or the zoo... and the foundation realizes such dreams for them.

Usually, big time companies and celebrities would honor and sponsor such requests too, bringing joy to a sick person's life.

Anyway, not many would know that Hortaleza Beauty Center (HBC) has given the phrase Make-A-Wish a slightly new meaning...

My friend Carol, who works at their HR, goes through dozens of letters monthly... letters from HBC employees who have a wish they want fulfilled. HBC's management has been gracious enough to allot funds for around 3 wishes to be granted monthly. My friend says it's usually a request for computers, be it for a younger sister or a cousin or a nephew. Otehr requests include fine dining for the whole family.

Not necessarily grand, expensive things, yes... but HBC's heart is certainly in the right place, opting to make their employees just a little happier. True, if they could extend help to others, why not to the people who move them?

Hopefully, other companies would follow suit.


Meanwhile, I have three important wishes for today.

First, may God grant my friend Laura some solace today, her late husband's first death anniversary, and that may she continue living and loving just as passionately.

Second, may my friend Allee recover from her operation without complications. She's been in the OR all morning and it's hard not to be worried for her and her new husband, Jay.

Third, may Pyro's check-up yield good tidings of positive reaction to his chemo treatment... and that his heart, kidneys and liver stay strong to fight for his lung.

pampering mode

8:35 AM Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Last week saw me getting a pedicure, and then my hair relaxed.

I also got my first body scrub.

It was kinky and sensual and a trifle painful, kaloka!

First, there was the shower. Then came time in a steam bath where I was given runny honey to lather onto my body.

Who knew honey all over could prove soooo titillating? I didn't want my time there to end! I was so enjoying just touching myself all over (and no, not in a masturbating kind of way), tasting some of the honey in my mouth, feeling cleansed and rejuvenated and sinful.

(commercial: honey on your privates isn't encouraged because the sugar will just invite bacteria)

Then came the sea salt body scrub. OUCH. I was sore in places and wondered if I could ever do it again. I was also feeling self-conscious because I was naked and the attendant scrubbed even my singit.

When she was around my chest area, I was even covering my nipples! Bwahahaha... but I let go when the attendant started scrubbing my neck because I was ticklish!

And dang cold too!

Weirdly enough, I felt like this freshly-scrubbed little girl after.

Is my skin softer? No one could say, because it's always been softer than theirs.



Got dry massage too, day after that!


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