Spent the entire day watching all 12 episodes of the first season. Looking forward to the next season.
Everyone’s hoping that the administration will declare the suspension of classes this afternoon, me included. I have only one class today. The rest of my classes are scheduled for fieldwork so we’ll not be meeting in class. Unfortunately, the announcement never came.
To add to the day’s excitement, I spilled most of my lunch on my shirt. Wasted nearly an hour contemplating whether I should go home to change. (Did I happen to mention that I live around 50 meters from where I work?) I decided to go home rather than remain stressing over whether the sweater would dry in time for my large class lecture – which also happened to be the only class I have for the day.
That’s what happened today if I were to tolerate my negativity. I’ve learned my lesson and I’m trying to focus on the things that I’m thankful for. Blame the friend who’s trying starting his Gratitude Journal for this.
The mother came for a visit and brought lunch. A free meal! 😀 That should be enough to brighten the day.
It’s also nice to see the mother especially after I’ve stopped my weekend stays at her house. She has stopped “requiring” me to spend the weekend with her. That means I get to spend the whole weekend on sleep mode.
Plus, need I remind myself that it’s a Friday?! I get to sleep late tomorrow – and with that thought, nothing can ruin this day.
The mother came for a visit and brought lunch. A free meal! 😀 That should be enough to brighten the day. It’s also nice to see the mother especially after I’ve stopped my weekend stays at her house. She has stopped “requiring” me to spend the weekend with her. That means I get to spend the whole weekend on sleep mode.
I’m thankful that I can still jog even after my open-heart surgery.
Two weeks after the surgery, I was advised to do more physical activities to condition the new mitral valve. I remembered the look of longing I gave the joggers as they passed me. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to jog this year. Every time I try to jog, it feels like my heart would spill out of my chest. There’s a distinct red line about half a foot long marking the incision from the operation.
Almost four months after the operation, I’m able to take weekly jogs. I have to. Today, I managed 10.6km in almost two hours. This is the longest jog I’ve had since the operation. My pace is still slow but that’s all I can manage for now. I just want to focus on completing a longer run. That’s the greatest source of fulfilment for the week 😀
I’m going to spend tomorrow drowsy and I’d wince every time I’d need to take the stairs but I’ll remain grateful.
Some people collect books, comics, mugs, dolls or miniature cars. I collect pages and pages of jotted thoughts.
I tend to forget things. I don’t think it’s a bad thing though. Maybe it’s what keeps me sane. I can experience intense emotions at particular moments then forget about them the week after. By forgetting about such moments, I’m freed from feeling hurt, humiliation, and wronged. In this case, forgetfulness is bliss.
I do want to document how I felt during such moments. Raw thoughts are always a delight to read. Reading unfiltered musings, usually of irritation and anger, can remind your of the past’s childishness and how you’ve matured.
My entries are as disorganized as most of my thoughts. I keep electronic logs in multiple protected diary/journal apps and Word documents with passwords that I have mostly forgotten. My written entries are in several notebooks. I haven’t even completely filled one before I start writing in a new one. It’s such an achievement to fill the page of one notebook. I haven’t completed one for a long while.
This blog is probably my most organised collection of “pages” in the past years. It also reminds me to write more regularly. Currently working on that.
Call me the The Destroyer when it comes to wristwatches. In our family, I think I hold the record for the most number of watches broken. From broken straps to malfunctioning machine parts and even the causing a large crack in the timepiece’s glass protective cover – I have encountered them all.
I began wearing wristwatches in high school. That was when I learned that plastic straps weren’t ideal for me. The plastic straps became brittle and broke. They said it’s because I was acidic. In college, I got a leather strapped watch. I had to constantly replace the leather straps to keep it presentable. It was also in college when I was given my first fancy watch. A hand-me-down from the sisters. It had a stainless steel bracelet. This was the watch that stayed with me the longest. The problems was that its key part, the one that control the watch’s hand movements, was malfunctioning. I tried replacing it with a new one (quite costly for a student) but it stopped working every once in a while. Having the wrong time can be very frustrating.
When I started working, I received an automatic watch with a leather strap. It worked fine. I loved that watch until I accidentally banged it on a metal post (clumsy me) resulting to a crack in the watch glass. Even the hands and numbers were shaken out of place with the impact. Such impact might have been a painful but I was more focused on working about breaking another watch –which I did.
I bought my first watch from the Christmas bonus. I settled for a battery operated watch with stainless strap. It fit me well. I did find it strange that a cheaper watch would survive my more incidents caused by my clumsiness. I was proud to wear that watch knowing I had bought with my own money. I loved that watch.
My father loved it too. I gave the watch to him. We share the same concerns when it comes to watches. I got the acidic wrist from him. It was a sturdy timepiece and the batteries were cheaper. The father receives a lot of watches as gifts so it’s nice to see that he still wears the watch I gave him. It still works fine. The strap is sturdy still. And its battery is more affordable so I can always change the battery every time I come home to the province.
I’ve bought other watches in the past years and have received timepieces as gifts from the mother. The current watch is a gift from the mother. I was surprised to see that the strap edge was unglued. It seems like only the actual watch is water resistant. The strap is a bit weak, which is surprising since the mother boasted about this piece being better –meaning more expensive that the ones I bought. Being more expensive does not necessarily translate to having better quality. I should mention though, that I really love this watch because it shows the date and it glows in the dark 😀
I went to work late this morning because I had to sew the unglued edges. I don’t know until when the sewn edges will last but I’m hoping it would last long enough for me to save up for a new pair of watch straps.
I wish one could burn calories with worrying or thinking. That way, I can burn a lot of calories. The world is cruel and that is not the case. So I have to walk and jog to keep this newly-repaired heart in good condition –and hopefully reach my ideal weight of 65kg. I’m 7.6 kg away from that.
I don’t expect to reach the 65 kg ideal weight anytime soon. It’s going to be a slow process. It’s definitely going to test my patience and self-control. I’ll have to maintain the daily 15-minute exercise and manage (at least) a 6 km walk/jog every week. See, losing weight for me isn’t optional. I need to reach that 65 kg goal if I want to keep this heart working properly – and live longer.
It was way easier to lose weight when I was on drip at the hospital. The food wasn’t that great so I had no problem controlling my appetite. Even if I had no exercise during the hospitalization, the drip and the hospital food was enough for me to reach 65 kg.
When I was discharged, I got back all the weight I lost – and more 😐
One of the aunts said that I learned to read from tv commercials. I used to mimic the commercial voiceovers when they present the product brand and/or name. These moments where part of the daily game with the sisters competing to be the first to identify the product during the first few seconds of the commercial.
One of my aunts worked at the public school learning centre. They had old books in there. I remember taking home this old beaten book of old tales, none of the fairy tales kids today have access to. In hindsight, the stories were really not for kids as the plot included murder, theft, envy, and of course, complicated relationships between couples and among family members. I learned to love the smell of old books. It felt like I was getting wiser with every book I read – which does not necessarily mean I understood their contents.
I chanced upon some children’s encyclopedia which were illustrated. It was such a good find – not that there were other students I had to compete with to get the book. These books had great colours and illustrated stories. I read about a kid’s first airplane ride, a hamster pet, The 12 Dancing Princesses, a story about a stone soup, and more stories than I can remember.
It was during my elementary years when classmates would bring to school these big illustrated fairy tales and thick compilation of biblical and other tales. We didn’t have that at home and I wouldn’t dare ask the aunts for one. It’s a good thing that my classmates were willing to share these books. Some were kind enough to allow me to take them home. Others would require me to read it within the school grounds. I think I read most of today’s fairy tales that way.
Going back to encyclopedias, only the wealthy families had a complete set in their homes. It amazes me that one of our relatives can still recall how I always paid them a visit during the weekends so I can read their encyclopedia. The aunt mentioned that I may have been the only one who read the set as her children never really paid much attention to the books. they were very kind in letting me read their books which helped a lot especially when we were discussing the different body systems in school. I had a complete set of encyclopedia I could base my assignments on and the illustrations were really nice.
Come high school and the romance pocketbook craze reached our household. The sisters were crazy about them. They were way cheaper than VHS rental (PhP 20 – PhP 25). Every weekend, we would pool our money to rent these new pocketbook releases. We were such good customers that the new arrivals were sent to our house so we’d get first dibs on the novels we want. They would deliver the pocketbooks say at 1pm and return at 3pm to collect the ones we opted not to rent. That was when we learned how to speed read. At a time, I could finish one pocketbook in an hour. That meant, I can save on three pocketbooks rental by the time the unselected books are collected. I think the rent was PhP 5 per book and you get to keep it for a week.
Once the story in the Filipino pocketbooks became redundant, I started trying the aunts’ Mills and Boons and Harlequin novels. They had quite a large collection of these. They were reading the thicker – like two-inch thick – novels during this time. These pocketbooks had winters and were set in such exotic locations with descriptions of food I’ve never heard before. If it was sweltering hot during a summer afternoon, I’d re-read a pocketbook in a winter setting and a book set in summer or the tropics when the monsoons arrive.
I’d attempt to slip some of the words in our English class when the teachers asks us to write sample sentences on the board. Tete-a-tete, soiree, and facade – these weren’t common words for us at the time. Whenever there’s an interesting word in the pages, I’d look it up in our beaten and coverless dictionary then try to use them in sentences.
Once I’ve read all the Mills and Boons and Harlequin novels inter separate bookshelves, I started working on thick novels. By the end of high school, I have read almost all the thick novels. I had a lot of time for reading since I seldom go out on weekends and I stayed up late at night. There were several nights when one of the aunts would remind me that it’s late and that I need to go to sleep. So I kept a flashlight just in case I needed to pretend to sleep and turn off the table lamp.
During college, I frequented bookstall stalls/shops for cheap used books. PhP 88 was already considered expensive. Cheap included books prices Php 5 – Php 50. It was only when I started working when I could buy PhP 88 – PhP 100 books.
Sadly, the stores and stalls I frequented to get the week’s supply of books are now closed. Even the book prices have increased so there’s really not much fun in looking for cheap books.
Now I content myself with downloading ebooks because they’re (free!) cheaper.
Still, nothing would beat holding a book or folding a corner to mark the last page you’ve read or studying the book spine to look for the page where you fell asleep in.