Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Tuesday, August 23, 2005


I just smashed my right thumb a few minutes ago. I was closing the door after parking my car at LexCorp, and didn’t notice that I had left a finger in the way. At first, it didn’t really hurt, I just felt jammed. For a fraction of a second, I even laughed at my clumsiness. Nevertheless, as the door slowly began crushing my thumbnail, I realized this was no joke. Frantically, I managed to open the door and pull my finger out in about two seconds flat.

The pain was unbearable. The desire to scream and curse like a sailor, irresistible. But no matter how justifiable, this impulse had to remain miserably unfulfilled, as I was in a public space and really didn’t want to bring attention upon myself. All I was left with was clutching my maimed limb and trying to somehow contain the primal scream that was hatching in my lungs. My face was red, my jaw was locked, my eyes swollen. To a casual observer, I must’ve looked like I was simply holding my breath (and my hand) forcefully. On the inside, however, I was seeing red all over.

As time passed, the pain reduced to practical extinction. It only hurts when I bump my thumb into something. The thumbnail feels kinda numb. The space above the cuticle is red, which means it will probably turn blue over time. And of course, my nail will grow crooked after this.

Why was this so funny when it happened to Elmer Fudd?

Saturday, August 20, 2005

So many missed chances!

I've been thinking that if I was closer to the computer all day, this blog
would be filled to the brim with at least five times the content it has
now!! Countless ideas and comments have been lost because they happen to
come into my mind at times when I have no way of recording them.

But considering the kind of half-baked crud that does manage to get in here,
maybe less of it is in everybody's best interest.

Ugly on the inside

I distinctly remember a little nursery rhyme I read once, about a very beautiful child, who had awfully improper language. The last line on it was, "Pity this child: so beautiful, yet so ugly!"
I keep that rhyme in mind because it never fails to shock me when an exquisite example of the female gender uses foul language that would put a truck driver to shame.
Just last night, I was having dinner at my parents-in-law’s, and one of the guests –a stunning model/actress/dancer- started talking irately about some women who were after her man. The word bitch was employed ad nauseam till my mother-in-law had to intervene. I can’t tell you how my image of this lady was deteriorated right then and there.

My take on cursing

I think that people forget the purpose of having curse words: they are special words, that when used scantily are able to shock and insult. But when used all the time, their impact is severly dilluted till they just happen to be mere words. Some think that casual cursing makes you cool, but the necessity to employ curse words in everyday conversation only reflects a lack of culture and vocabulary. Ask any job recruiter and they’ll tell you that having a potty-mouth isn’t a sought-after skill.  
I admire those who manage to go the longest time without uttering a single curse word. My mom and my granny have maybe cursed five times in the 28 years that I’ve known them. My dad was a little more profane, mainly when driving. But everybody knows swearing behind the wheel doesn’t count.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Not my best week

Ivy got sick on Wednesday night. Her white cell count had dropped dramatically, and had to be checked into a hospital for observation. After her tests came in, it was clear that she had an infection and needed antibiotics. When I went to see her on Thursday, she had been put under sanitary isolation, and every visitor had to wear masks and robes. Let me tell you, if the sudden news of her hospitalization hadn’t been harsh enough, having to bear cumbersome hygenic measures was really tough to bear. Luckily that was dropped by the next day. And Ivy herself got released on Saturday.

But it wasn’t over yet

While at the hospital, the medicines -and being practically bedridden for three days- caused Ivy pain in her knees and lower back. This pain started to grow and grow as time passed. On Saturday, the pain had turned unbearable. When I went to see her at her home, she was really anguished. She just couldn’t find any position in which she could really relax. Sitting, standing, lying down: nothing worked. The painkillers weren’t working either. That was devastating, to see her so distressed and to not be able to do anything. I managed to convince her to take a little ride in my car, and I drove around and around till she was able to doze off at least a full half hour.

The pain starts to give out

Luckily, the pain killers started to work by Sunday, and she was able to sleep that night. Little by little the pain seems to be going away. But the fight is yet from over. There is still pain, no matter what she does. But it is more tolerable than what she had on Saturday. She is feeling a bit better now and it shows. She has longer episodes of recovery. She can stand to sit or lie down for longer times. Today we watched a movie at her house: Serving Sara, with Matthew Perry and Elizabeth Hurley. Lemme tell you, it was lots of fun.

Fate has a funny sense of humour

Just when it seemed that Ivy was winning her fight... her skin has started to turn yellowish. Her eyes are yellow as well. The symptoms indicate liver malfunction. It could be a temporary thing, caused by all the medicine she has had to take in the last 5 days. Or, it could be Hepatitis.Or it could be catastrophic liver failure. We won’t know for sure till she goes to the doctor, tomorrow morning. Boy, It just never gets boring in here.