Remember me Poems!

The fear of death is universal.

But what lies beneath that fear

Is the terror of insignificance.

Of not being remembered.

Not counting

Rev. Lyle Cutty '58

The Class by Erich Segal

I want to be remembered by the following poems i wrote ages ago…for whom these poems are dedicated…and for the feelings attached to every line composed during idle moments…

As I Look Up to See

The night sky is my sanctuary

For night sky will always be there

I am writing again

enter into the world of clowns…funny people

this is just me talking to myself again (stupid)

no matter how hard i try to ignore the fact that there are people who seem to ignore me intentionally, it still hurts. not that i want attention from them. it's just that i cannot comprehend the reason behind the (sudden) coldness. is it because i did them wrong? what was wrong, in the first place, in giving out a contact detail? it's not as if i was giving it away like a flyer to everyone i pass by. no no! it was asked from me. the person who owned it was not a close friend so i asked a friend to ask for me what was being asked from me by another (used to be) good friend. if i was not shy about asking, i would've asked myself. but then again i was. so is that a mistake too? i was just being honest here. being denied is one thing, being ignored by the one who felt cheated by the action was another, but to be ignored by THOSE who have nothing to do with all of this is INSANE!!! totally!

do they have to be hasty with their judgment? they haven't asked me about the whole thing. and there they go about their business of just ignoring me. it affected me, by the way. and i am not the kind of person who gets affected easily. so this must've meant a lot to me. i lost a friend. i was put into a situation that is still up to now affecting something in me (not that much as it used to during the early days. but still…)

i wanted to tell them i hate them for being so immature!!! you are older than i am but then again you act more silly than i do! you should be ashamed of yourselves! you who think highly of yourselves should look yourselves up in the mirror before you put judgment unto others. because when you get to do that, then maybe you'd appreciate the idea of self-assessment first before going into the assessment of others.

i just hate the thought of sharing the same work place with you, breathing the same air with you while we do the same stuff everyday, and especially being in a group with you that does not seem to be a group at all. and we pride ourselves with higher analytical thinking than our fellow publisher people,but do we really have that thinking? i don't think so.

amp!

To the one that got away

 i was going through my old personal emails when i stumbled upon a reply i gave my good friend about an article that talked about the one that got away. i wasn't able to save that article (unfortunately) so i won't be able to share it here. anyways, i will just post my reply to that forwarded message. and here it is:

actually, in what i believe in, there is no such person as "someone who got away"…

 

maybe someone who was never meant for you but not necessarily someone who got away…thinking that way is like putting yourself into a situation of regret…like what the article said, that person's the GREATEST WHAT IF of your life…and what ifs are merely regrets…i don't believe in regrets…i know it (regret) exists but there's no point in dwelling in one. it's just gonna make the present situation unstable…always thinking there's someone out there who's supposed to be with you right now but somehow fate twisted things and you're stuck with another person instead of that person will make your present situation not right. the fact that you've let that person go is proof enough that things won't really work for the two of you…deep inside you know that fact…there's just one "makulit" part of your heart that tells you otherwise…and that "makulit" part could be shrugged of…you would have fought for that person if you believe he was right for you…if you think the two of you could withstand everything…but heck you did not…that's why you let that person drift…

 

what i'm trying to say is, once you've let a person go…let him go…do not restrain him from your thoughts…let him be where he is now…and let yourself be where you are now…thinking of the other person will also "bother" him in a way that only the cosmic entities know…let the person be at peace and you too will be at peace with yourself…

 

i could be wrong in all of this but hey, this is my opinion…hehehehe@!

i guess i still believe that once a person is out, he is out, and he should remain out unless you want to complicate the whole situation you are in right now. of course, allowing yourself to engage in relationships (any kind of relationship for that matter) without the totality of being over a person from the past is a big mistake. how could you commit to the present when your mind is lingering in the past? let go. that's the only way to escape being imprisoned by that someone who got away. and to that someone who got away, may he (or she) be in the best condition this world can offer him (or her). and let's just leave it to that point and move on to where we could find the "best" that this world has to offer us. i think it's fair enough.

and i think i've said enough.

tagged again!

I was tagged again (by Zarine again…he he he)!!! and this time, i am giving in more easily!!! he he he…because this time, i can answer readily with MY FIVE FAVORITE POSTS!!!

but before anything else, here are the rules:

1. Choose five blogs randomly from your blogroll.
2. For each blog, choose at least one entry (you could add more) which is your favorite post by this blogger.
3. Include a link to this post and explain why you like it.
4. The chosen five bloggers are considered tagged and they will also have to do the same in their blogs.

here's mine in random order:

1. An Exercise on Self-Humiliation by Zarine

 This is a funny post that made me realize the stupidities i have also put myself into before (and even up to now). like i have told Zarine, i have subjected my self to shame in front of the Catholic Women's League for singing the Ama Namin in gibberish because I, who was raised a Catholic by my parents and who graduated from a Catholic school, don't know the lyrics. plain and simple. and as stupid as it may seem, i kinda admire myself for standing in front of their crowd. he he he…engot talaga!

2. My Obsession with Weight by Apples-Pie

This one entry is very related to my weight-gain experiences…all the irritating "comments" i get just because of these excess fats that have made their living room in my tummy. sigh!

3. Turon and Buttons..and Why I Like Grays by Cortez

I like this one because I LOVE turon! i mean that is the only best thing that our office canteen ever came up with! just 10 pesos and sarap to the nth level! he he he…of course that was an exageration. but i could survive the office hours with just one turon and tons of coffee. and match it with Buttons is really a hit Cortez!

4. Good morning by Mordo

i feel it. i mean, i have that sense of sadness without reason sometimes…and it's confusing. and it gets more complicated when you see more of the world that makes you more sad…awshucks! i'm glad he wrote it out for me…the feeling that is!

5. Between Magic and Respect by Odayski

i've known her for like years! and she's a good writer with a very great imagination to match her talent. i like this one in particular. enuf said. i just like it!

so there are my 5 favorite post from five favorite bloggers. it serves as an invitation for them to spread the meme…i just hope they do! i have put much effort on this ha! he he he…

tagged!

it's like being pinged! i was tagged twice to date! and lousy me, i haven't responded to the earlier tag (pacensya na po).

so before i dwell into the current one in my list, let me first give in to the very first one!

and so i was tagged and asked what were the 5 things that happened/changed in my life since i started blogging?

hmmm…here they are:

1. my productivity took a dive down because i recently found out that blogging in the office while working took most of the stress out of my system. it's like cleansing for me really. i mean being able to let out bad air in the virtual space provided me is aWesome! yes with a capital W!

2. i learned that i was not only taking a peek into strangers' lives but i was also (and i know now) sharing the ideas of one officemate! yes! i guess she knows me because i have pictures here…but for the sake of blogging, i will just keep her identity to myself.

3. i drink more coffee than i used to…because when i am in a reading session, i tend to consume more of that caffeine-rich upper.

4. i am letting other people into my own little nook. i mean, some of the stuffs i tell you guys are for my friends and hubby only. and most are for myself alone.

5. i think i may have involved myself with the cares and what gives of others. i mean, i sometimes dwell in their worlds and try to get the picture in my head and then feel whatever these bloggers are feeling. weird eh?

So there's my first!

i am on to my next one…

but first i gotta go home first!

first things first!!!

ang labo talaga…

this is just me talking to myself…

9 years of friendship that started out with the block known as G4. not really that chummy to start with. Just a block. Their "kinds" were aloof with my "kind": the loud and proud Pisay grads…yes that's what we are…at least that's what they thought of us…and some of them still do, i think.

it never crossed my mind (before) that we'd be friends. close friends. one thing was binding though: we had our imagination and there's our fondness for mushiness. i WAS very mushy (up until now) and In Love with the thought of being In Love. we were in that same level of thinking. i thought, then, that it was just part of college drama…one that i will soon outgrow after graduation (just as i have outgrown my elementary best friend). but heck, what we had as FRIENDS was something i would be keeping for life. and i meant that. at least i want to live up to the promises of our FRIENDSHIP.

so much that it hurts to (sometimes when i get to thinking) feel that same aloofness building a great wall between us (again). what happened between 2005 and 2007? my work schedule changed (a whole lot) that i no longer made those passing hours in one friend's office in ortigas. no more last full shows. no more of those once-a-week-go-to-the-mall-just-to-hang-out sessions. i started my own family. people changed jobs. i still get to meet one friend once a month (at least). but things are awfully different now. it just feels weird that we think one is avoiding the others. why? is it because our stuffs are no longer what she wants to fill her world with? that we are just too JOLOGS for her compared with her friends whose lives are far from what we, her college friends, have? she has a thing for "perfection" in people's lives…i guess that's one thing we can't give her. our lives are just so messed up it reflects her own set of imperfections in her life. but would that be enough to avoid seeing us? c'mon! all of us have monsters hiding somewhere in our shadows…and certainly even those who seem perfect aren't just so. i sound bitter. i feel more bitter. it sucks if that whole assumption is true. but it isn't far from just what we were imagining. she's always too busy…too sleepy…too involved with work she can't find (or even spare) time to see us for lunch. how difficult could that be?

i thought we'd be growing old and still be friends with each other. i thought we'd still get to bug each other with a song or two. or have tea in our "mansions" once in a while (dream on). i thought. or better yet, i should just keep hoping for those times to come. they seem so vivid before. now, they seem like a dream. just a wishful thinking.

i miss the friendship. the laughter over silly things normal people can't comprehend most of the time. being just ourselves, not afraid of being criticized because with each other, we can be our normal looney selves. how can something so simple be so elusive? are times too advanced for such things that getting one is a luxury?

i am just so talking to myself…

hoping one friend will hear…

hoping against hope to revive what seems to be dead.

i miss them. missing something makes me regret a lot along the way…but i am against regrets…i know…that's why i am having this dialogue with myself…maybe i'd understand that everything happens for a reason. but somehow, that reason is beyond my understanding.

vague…

(sigh)

Ano daw uli?!

Naka-receive ako ng email kanina at hindi ko maiwasang i-share sa inyo na makakabasa nito…grabe nakakatawa sya super!!!

Actual sentences found in patient's medical charts at PGH:

1. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

2. On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.

3. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
 
4. The patient is tearful and crying constantly.  She also appears to be depressed. 

18. Skin: somewhat pale but present.
 
19. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.

Mga versions ng CT scan mula sa pagtatanong ng direksyon ng mga pasyente o bantay sa PGH: 
 
1. "nurse saan po ba ang Siete Scan?"
 
2. "nurse saan po ba magpapa-CT Skull" 
 
3. "nurse saan po ba CT Scalp" 
 
4. "nurse saan po ang CT Scam?"

Iba pang mga katanungan:

1. "nurse saan po ba ang Cobal" (yan ay patungkol sa paghahanap sa Cobalt room)

2. "nurse, saan po ba ang papuntang X-Tray?" (ayun! ang nawawalang T sa Cobal ay napunta sa X-Tray)

Eto naman ang Question and Answer portion:

1.  nurse: "Mrs., tapos na po ang operasyong ng anak ninyo, punta na Pokayo sa PACU (aka Post-Anesthesia Care Unit).
 
      Mrs: "Eh , saan po sa Paco? Sa may simbahan po ba o sa may palengke?

2. nurse: "Mrs. ano po ba ang sinabi ng dating doktor kung ano daw ang sakit ng inyong anak?" 
 
     Mrs: "Eh sabi po niya Tragedy of Fallot.
 
     nurse: "Ah baka po Tetralogy of Fallot (isang congenital heart disease ang Tetralogy of Fallot)

3. nurse: "Mrs. ano po ba ang antibiotic na iniinom ng anak ninyo?"
 
     Mrs: "metromanilazole po."
 
     nurse: "Ah baka po metronidazole. " (gamot sa amoeba ang metronidazole)

4. nurse: "Mrs. ano po ang mga gamot na iniinom ng anak niyo?"
 
     Mrs: "phenobarbiedoll po."
 
     nurse: "Ah baka po phenobarbital. " (gamot sa convulsion ang phenobarbital)

5. Mrs: "Scissors! Scissors! Nag-sciscissors ang anak ko, nurse!" 
 
    nurse: "Doc, nag-seizure ang pasyente!"

6. nurse: (Sa buntis na mrs. na nagle-labor) "Mrs., pumutok na po ba ang panubigan mo?"

Hanep!

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Fairy Tales for Adults

I have been taught in Humanities II that, originally, Fairy tales were meant for adult reading pleasures. Hmmm…that got me to thinking that those tales may have had words not suitable for very young audiences!! And for the longest time since that class, I have had searched for copies of those fairy tales. However, I came up with the "politically correct" versions of some of the best-loved fairy tales of our childhood. I have a fascination for the Politically Correct Cinderella. Here goes…

 

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived a noble gentleman and his (without denoting any real possession) dear daughter. She was very beautiful – her breasts were centrally located and she was cosmetically gifted.

He loved her very much, and he was worried that she was lonely, as her mother was metabolically challenged, and dwelled 6 feet underground. So the gentleman conjoined in a purely egalitarian partnership with a lady who had (without denoting any real possession) two daughters of her own, figuring that they’d be kind and sweet to his own lovely offspring.

Instead, they made her do all the domestic labour, and made her wear the clothes a financially disadvantaged person (or perdaughter) would. Both girls were aesthetically different and had a more challenging odour than would be normal, as well as having their own unique, rather liberal, moral codes, allowing them to bully and taunt the poor girl and make her do all the chores. The poor child would spend her days in the cellar, peeling potatoes, sat in a hunch in the corner by the chimney, and for this reason the sisters nicknamed her ‘Cinderella’.

One day, it was announced that one of the most financially advantaged people in the town, the King’s son, was going to throw a big ball. The sisters were asked to go, and they were so excited they ran around for days, laughing hersterically. They bought themselves fancy dresses that were so stuffed with jewels they stood up by themselves, and spent days and days talking about all the people of important social status that they planned to meet.

The great day arrived, and Cinderella found herself in the cellar by herself. “I wish I could go to the ball,” she said to herself. “I bet I could pull that prince – I’m far prettier than those two unconventional-looking, loved-by-spots, 300-pound dinosaurs. I’m far more preferable to men.” The two sisters departed, and Cinderella stayed at home and moaned to the silence.

It was not long until there was a big puff of blue smoke and a rather festively-formed, full-figured, gravitationally-powerful woman appeared. It was her fairy godmother. Cinderella recognised her at once.

“I really want…”Cinderella started.

“To go to the ball,” finished the godmother. Cinderella nodded. “Despite how much I support your freedom to be emotional, since I’m considering your own success here I would ask you politely to cease crying, lest it hinder you. Now go to the garden and get me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to get to the ball – unfortunately she was rather intellectually impaired and did not yet appreciate that the fat woman who had appeared out of thin air was magic. Nonetheless, she took herself to the garden and took the biggest pumpkin she could carry back to the fairy godmother, who tapped it with her wand, turning it into a golden coach lined with white satin.

The godmother tapped Cinderella on the head and turned her shabby clothes into a stunning white silk dress. Cinderella was concerned for the fate of the silkworms, but considered how the dress was made – using magic – and decided to forget about it. She looked at herself in the full length mirror, and remarked on her slippers, which were made of glass.

“Now go and get me 6 mice from the luxury mouse-trap with fitted mouse-furniture and a mouse television with specific mouse programming in the kitchen, and a big juicy rat.”

With a touch of the wand, each mouse turned into a horse, and the rat turned into a coach driver. Cinderella grew more concerned.

“Fairy godmother,” Cinderella said, “I am concerned for the wellbeing of these horses and this coach driver. One day they were vermin – not that vermin are lesser life forms, of course, and the next thing you know they’re horses and people, and I don’t plan to pay or feed any of them. Considering they’re working for nothing, exactly where should my morals lie in using them?”

“Shut up and get in the carriage, you selfish brat,” the godmother replied. “Oh, and, if you stay in the palace for one second after midnight, all my magic will vanish and you’ll be cosmetically challenged and in your monetarily inexpensive clothes.”

A few moments later, the coach was rolling down towards the ball with the excited Cinderella inside. She arrived and strode up to the prince, slamming her lips into his and they embraced. For the rest of the night, Cinderella and the prince were constantly in each other’s arms, and the two sisters, who did not recognise their own stepsister, were rather flattered when she spoke some words to them.

The hours flew by so happily that Cinderella did not even notice the time until it the clock began to strike midnight. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room. One of the glass slippers flew from her foot and landed on a crate of beer as she struggled to leave the ball before one second past midnight. The prince hurried after her, but, when he reached the entrance hall, she couldn’t find the beautiful girl – just a cinder-maid in a ragged grey dress.

Cinderella hurried home through the dark streets, overwhelmed with shame.

The next day, there was a great procession of trumpets and drums as a regal possession went through the town, going from place to place, at the head of which sat the king’s son. He held a glass slipper on a red pillow, as a herald announced that any lady in the land who could fit the slipper on her foot and could produce the pair would be to marry the prince, if both parties agreed and if the housework was shared equally. Both sisters tried, but their feet were too spacious to squeeze in. Cinderella begged to try, and, to the scorn of her sisters, the prince agreed.

The slipper slipped easily on, and Cinderella pulled the second glass slipper from her pocket. The prince was overjoyed, and wrapped his arms warmly around the pretty cinder maid.

Cinderella spoke up. “Despite the romantic ending of this story, emotionally I feel a little flat. You have fallen in love with me because the fairy godmother made me look pretty, and I’m not convinced that that is a satisfactory basis for a marriage – you don’t even know me. We have only met on one occasion, and, like in this story, I haven’t even established my true character or personality to you – you have no real idea of how well we’d get along. I know you think you have noble and chivalrous intentions but in the context of this story they just reinforce negative notions about male dominance – you’re a prince, I’m a cinder maid, and I have no real interest in you to be honest – at least, no interest further than a purely financial one. It might be a happy ending because I’ll be royalty, but I want so much more!”

“I know,” the prince replied. “I’m completely loaded. I’ve got big palaces and we wouldn’t even have to see each other really, except when we’re having sex or ‘Deal or No Deal’ is on. I don’t need a woman with personality – just human contact.”

“So there’d be no love in our marriage? You’re really only interested in me because I’m an attractive female? Just a sex object? You Neanderthal!”

“Alas, yes, but trust me, you’ll enjoy it. It’s a massive social step up and you’ll have loads of money. You bloody feminists – Jesus – you’re just as human as I am when it comes down to it. Your life will be fantastic if we get married, and I don’t even care if you go off hunting for other men – so long as we still have sex and watch ‘Deal or No Deal’. I’m really easy to live with. If you marry me right now, you will definitely live happily ever after. It’s your choice though, of course.”

Cinderella told the prince she didn’t want to be objectified by a man, and refused point-blank. She carried on being treated like a source of free labour by her morally challenged step-sisters and died in a home for the mentally impaired.

 

 

There are still other politically correct versions of fairy tales out there. Here are two of the politically correct stories that I have gathered: Politically Correct Little Red Riding Hood and Politically Correct Three Little Pigs.  There's even a book by James Finn Garner about the "Politically Correct Bedtime Stories."

Now, I guess I'll leave you the option to read them out. As I would just like to point out, whether they're politically correct or not, these stories have "somehow" made an event in our lives. And, for some, they may have molded our thoughts on different things, especially our thoughts on morality.

I hope you have enjoyed the other versions of our best-loved stories.

of black & white, gray, and everything dull

this is just one of those (bad) days…

i don't feel like writing this one out, but for the sake of venting bad air out, i am going to put something here anyway. besides, i haven't written for a while (or am i just making excuses?)

oh well, i have to keep this to keep my insanity intact. at least while my friends are hard to find these days, and talk is the last thing on my hubby's mind. i am not blaming them or anything…i am just trying to widen my options of sharing my thoughts (Sugarfree's BURNOUT is playing). it has been a while since i had a good heart to heart talk with anyone who concerns himself with my issues. not that i have many issues to start with. just angst and hurts and a whole lot more of those morbid stuffs that psychos usually think about. not really. i just need someone to talk to. have a word with. conversation is a MUST for me (these days). i crave happy talkings! why is it (lately) hard for my system to withstand loneliness? i don't really mind being alone. but times like this come to me once in a while, and i feel the need to be with a person other than myself. the company that i keep with myself is OK, but sometimes…oh i just get back to ground zero again.

(Nyoy's NASAAN KA is playing)

i am burning out slowly. the routines. the MONO virus is invading me. do i need a cure? or just a bed rest? where is my old self? i guess i have it tucked under my bed (not that my bed has an under…i prefer under-less bed. if you know what i mean). and while my old self is somewhere else, the persistence of being normal under abnormal circumstances is annoying me. it does. and it is reflected here.

maybe reading this post will make you wonder what the heck is joga talking about?

well, like my mind is (right now), this post is a reflection of everything dull and confusing in my life.

it is out. my emotions written in black & white. i have to get back to reality.

(Teeth's SORRY will play in background)

Comment on The Paltry Mentality of the Copy Editor by William F. Vallicella

 

The Paltry Mentality of the Copy Editor

The copy editor, like a testosterone-crazed male cat, likes to mark his territory. His territory is your manuscript. But like a cat, he is lazy and easily bored, which leads to inconsistency. He starts out changing every occurrence of ‘identical with’ to ‘identical to,’ but then tires of this game so that the end result is a mishmash. He would have spared himself the bother had he appreciated the simple fact that in the English language ‘identical with’ and ‘identical to’ are stylistic variants of each other.

My advice to editors: stick to questions of formatting, and the correction of obvious spelling and grammatical errors. Keep your political correctness to yourself. Don’t try to be what the Germans call a Besserwisser: don’t presume to know better what I want to say and how I want to say it. My writing is an exacting labor of love; your editing is a lousy chore you can’t wait to be done with.

Now, having vented my spleen, I look at the other side of the question. Where would the journals, and we who publish in them, be without editors and their grunt work? May they be adequately compensated! May their teaching loads be reduced! May 72 black-eyed virgins greet them at the portals of paradise!

 

Posted by William F. Vallicella on http://maverickphilosopher.powerblogs.com/posts/1172074939.shtml

I came across this entry while I was surfing the Internet for copy editor-related stuffs. I was surprised by the anger this writer must have felt toward copy editors in general (pertaining to the last paragraph).

I thought maybe he does not know the work of a copy editor. Maybe. I can only say that, based on my experience as a copy editor, we don't presume to know better than the author of the article that we copy edit.

Let me first tell you what a copy editor is. We check an article, usually before typesetting,  and correct for grammar, syntax, spelling, and style errors. By style, i refer to the publication guidelines given to us to ensure consistency on how scientific terminologies and even English words are to be used and not used. Otherwise, we do not edit for style so as not to change the author's own thoughts. However, since we are the last to carry out the battle for English corrections, we are sometimes tasked to do some minor "rewritings". Even if an entry is "clean" in every sense, the wordiness of a line and the awkwardness of some transitions are left for us to fix (especially if we are dealing with technical writing here). It is also to be kept in mind that these changes are queried to the author to check if they are appropriate.

I don't know how he may have come to say such things about a copy editor. And I admit to being guilty of inconsistencies too. However, I suppose publishers won't be hiring people like us if they thought that we all have a paltry mentality. I guess it is a bit harsh to talk this way about copy editors especially if, like i am about him, he does not know anything about the full nature of their work. I am not a defender of my profession, and i wouldn't claim that we do not have errors. I guess, it's just a matter of respect for others. Maybe something could have provoked him to write that way, but then again, does he have to generalize?

I am just, like him, venting out my concerns about this article. He has a right to his own opinion. And I am too.

I guess, having written my comments, I could now move on and forget (maybe) about this.

NOTE: It took me a long time to publish this. I am carefully choosing my words so as not to cause another set of you know what.

The Sun is Red when the Stars are Blue?!?

Honorific customer:

          Thank you to the red the sun dress of in reliance on with support. our company latest the recreational dress series that release, examine already and strictly. qualified a factory.

Thank your come the patronage.

i hope it's worth your time…

oh life!!!

 

O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless–of cities fill'd with the foolish;

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

.

.

.

Answer: 

That you are here - that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Walt Whitman

i wrote this on Abel's birthday banner:

…you're a Johnny good fellow! 

i really meant Jolly there. ever since, it has become a bit of a joke among us who shared that celebration.

i have this thing that my mind is quicker than my fingers…hmmm…hence, the errors commited in writing. it is so quick it leaves me even before i could write what i just thought of writing. and to make things worse, i substitute words that eventually make my writing funny (sigh). why is that?

even my tongue does that! how crazy can some situations get?

i say and do funny things subconciously. really, most of those things i've done and said are not meant to start a laughing frenzy among people. but they eventually result to laughter (sigh again).

anyways, i am very lousy when it comes to differentiating right from left. it almost caused us an accident (and a pretty serious one) before when Jane was giving me directions (while i was driving Patrik) to their house in Betterliving. She said, "kumaliwa ka dyan sa Total." I replied, "dun sa green na pader?" and she said, thinking I know the meaning of KALIWA, "oo dun." what happened next was I was turning the car right. i was halfway when she said "KALIWA!!!", and i immediately turned the car in the other direction, which when i did, we were almost going to hit the corner of a store plus a motorbike was heading our way!!! We almost "believed" that to the shock of that corner of the store, it moved away from us!!! ha ha ha!!! funny but really scary when you're riding with us. from then on, people give me directions of RIGHT and LEFT by gesturing the direction with their hands instead of just telling me.

i once told them (my CED friends) the reason why chi-chir-ya is the tagalog of junk food. i said it came from the Chinese words chi and ya (as if meron nun), which mean walang kwenta. so i told them, junk food in tagalog really means wala-walang kwenta. That's why, i told them, nutritionists tell us kids they're not good for our body. but of course, all of those are just luisa-invented thoughts. but, they liked it anyway. so from there, chi-chir-ya was known to us as wala-walang kwenta.

the guards in our office just love to check my bags for "illegal" stuffs. it is so true. i guess it all started when i was caught with a diskette inside my bag. it was my sister's thesis proposal that i am supposed to give to her after office. i forgot to leave it there at the guard house before i entered the building. so, it resulted in a memo and my sister's dismay over that proposal she wasn't able to make. A few weeks after the memo was issued, I was again caught, this time, with a CD hidden somewhere in my bag. The guard asked, "Ano to?" and for fear that i might get a bigger punishment, i blurted out, "CD po." it was stupid, but then again, who could have thought right at that time? so i got my second memo for that. from then on, the guards were routinely checking my bag. the funny thing is, these guards do not check the bags of the people who exit before me..it was just always me (sigh sigh sigh). 

Finding MEMO!!!

Tuesday proved to be a good day after all!!! I was already full of &%*!!# with the Table of the file that I was copyediting that day. I was supposed to go home around 5 pm, but for reasons only the authors of that darn article could tell, I wasn't able to do that. But surprises of all surprises!!! I got a MEMO!!! whoohhh!!

now now now…i am not that crazy to be all cheering for a MEMO (unless that memo calls for a 3-day suspension, ha ha ha, which I would gladly obey)…it's because that MEMO wasn't the usual MEMO that we get in the office for commiting crimes beyond reasonable doubt (like me carrying a CD or a diskette in my bag, which is illegal, or committing erroneous errors in the files that we do).

what I received was a MEMO-memohan from my friends at the office: an absolute Birthday tribute!!! he he he…post-Birthday pauso that T2rad and the rest of AACR thought of giving me. Very touching really.

well, the MEMO goes something like this:

Global change for Helicopter pylori variants

This serves as a reminder that henceforth, all occurrences of Helicobacter pylori, H. pylori, and all variants shall be changed to Helicopter pylori in honor of the birthday celebrant, Ma. Luisa J. Conti.

Attached is a gift from the AACR group of companies.

For your information and strict compliance.

he he he…and the attached gift was a book!!! it wasn't just a book, but a book on Peter Pan!!! (FYI: I collect books about Peter Pan)

I was like so happy and surprised and everything! it was a mixed emotion really. that made the frustration i was feeling for the file take a backseat that day.

at least i found myself a MEMO that brought a big Johnny Good Fellow smile to my face!!!

the following are the dedications attached to that MEMO:

 

oist!

 

Luisa,

Konti na lang suspension na to…pwede na mag Music 21 for 3 days! he he. or your chance to finally visit Baguio City! Happy Birthday!!

Anjo

 

Ha Eloisa!

Happy, Happy Birthday! Hope you'll remember this memo forever and ever amen!

:)

 

MARE!

You are a JOHNNY GOOD FELLOW! Get Get Awww!

Mo'om Jane

 

Mommy Luisa,

Hapi hapi birthday! Ayan, may MEMO ka na rin…wag kna mainggit ke T2rad!

:)

Ning (Spiritual Adviser to AACR, he he he)

 

Hapi Bejey!

 

Mommy ni Scout,

Happy memo

:) Ge (AACR Team Leader)

 

Luisa,

Maligayang Bati!

Roger

 

Mam,

Txt na lang kita!

-mhike

 

Mam,

mahal kita…

DX09

and so there goes my MEMO!