Strawberry Fields Forever

One year and eight months ago, a shadow of bleakness cast over my family upon receiving an ominous news that my Aunt Mimi was diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer.  The malignant tumor which cunningly hid under the guise of a series of unsuspecting migraine, grew to a size of a golf ball and eventually affected the brain’s proper functioning.  Not only did this sickness reduced my aunt’s motor skills to that of a 2 year old, as she struggled to feed herself, speak with sensibility, and even perform some of the basic tasks for survival; it unquestionably deprived her of her once beaming and mild-tempered personality.  The attending physician didn’t even bother to beat around the bush as he uttered the brutal words, "no surgery or chemotherapy could cure Mimi of cancer."  The doctor who sounded a little like God disclosed, "It will be a miracle is she lasts for more than a year."

A miracle did happen.  It didn’t come in a form of a remission as what we usually hear from stories of fortunate cancer survivors.  The chemotherapy that was religiously administered to Aunt Mimi did little to none as her body whimpered to unbearable pain and her consciousness traveled farther away to a dark and unfathomable void.  Never will she be able to laugh candidly to my dad’s (her loving brother) “out of this world” jokes . . . But miracles do happen and it did happened with my aunt and my whole family in the simplest, most unexpected and in the most unselfish way.  We patiently took every step of the journey with Aunt Mimi through joys and pains, faith and hopelessness, confusion and eventually acceptance.  Aunt Mimi, the epitome of the Antonio women’s unfaltering passion for love and life, outlived the 1 year mark and bravely joined the Almighty one year and eight months after she was diagnosed of her disease.

Around one year and eight months ago, I dedicated a very meaningful post about Aunt Mimi.  If I may, I would like to quote my self and end this post with a message of encouragement and acceptance to my bereaved family members, most especially to my aunt’s children, as well as to those who are reading this post and experiencing the same hardships of losing a loved one.

“Just yesterday, the whole Antonio clan was once again confronted with an overwhelming reality. The doctor convened the whole family and announced that my aunt’s tumor has grown into cancer in its 4^th stage. According to the doctor, if my aunt did not get any treatment, this malignant tumor can take away her precious life within three months time. If we pursue medication for her, which we definitely will do, the longest time her body can sustain all the stress is one year.  Each family member was initially in denial. Of all people, how can such a miserable thing happen to our beloved aunt? How did it get to stage 4 so quickly? Is there still hope for remission?”

“As what I’ve mentioned in my previous post, the Antonio women are the toughest creatures in the planet.  We may hit the deepest pit a couple of times, but never did we ever quit.  So, I am very well assured that my aunt’s battle has just begun.  There is no clear victory yet but what matters the most is that our body, mind and spirit are all up for the biggest challenge.  The whole family has decided we’ll take in every measure seriously to save my aunt’s life.  In the end, when all efforts are exhausted, we place our hands to our merciful Creator.” – PHILIA

05/04/06

Reading the news from CNN about the current sectarian crisis
in Iraq and the on-going war on terrorism spearheaded by the US provides me a
great deal of realization how one precious life could be taken away in just a
blink of an eye.  Every single day, the carnage from suicide bombings in
the streets, as well as from the cross-fires between soldiers and insurgents,
unreasonably steals a person’s enjoyment of the basic necessities in
life.  Although many say that this generation is fortunate to have
technological innovations that supposedly offer convenience and security to a
person, much of one’s personal freedom is strictly restrained because of the
widespread political and social unrest.  A couple of weeks ago while I was
busy at work, I had my share of confinement, confusion, and paranoia over an
imminent act of terrorism.

I was completely preoccupied with a sale I made to my customer when one of the
security people in the building where I work at alarmingly said that they’ve
just received a bomb threat on our building.  My first response was that
of a doubting Thomas and I strongly insisted that I had every reason to react
this way since this security personnel was this funny guy who always comes up
with silly jokes. I gave the security guy
a smirk of disbelief followed by a wry question: “Are you serious”? He didn’t have time to answer me back as our
attention was immediately shifted to the voice over his radio anxiously instructing
him to help evacuate everybody out of the building. After hearing that frightening warning, I
summoned enough adrenaline to race back to my office and try to calmly inform
my co-workers that we need to set off to a safer shelter. Apparently, my co-workers knew about the
terrifying situation even before I got to notify them. My manager told me that a security officer
from our building complex found a suspicious brown cargo box sitting right next
to our office. To no surprise, a couple
of

Los Angeles

police officers in
their full gear were quick to respond and ready to direct people where exactly
is safe to go.

The police officers decided to close-down the street
in-front of us and even barricaded the neighboring streets up to a 2 mile
radius so as to keep people away from the danger zone. I saw the look of bewilderment and fear on
the face of passersby as the LA police officers instructed them to stay away
far as possible to our office. While all
of these scenes were happening, inside the office, my manager tried to calm us
down by making us continue with the normal business routine. She asked us to pick-up the phone when it’s
ringing, update data in the computer and even accommodate a customer who was
trying to enter our office to return a rental car. I was the one tasked by manager to attend to
that customer and so even against the police officers’ behest I crept on my way
outside the office door and attempted to show the clueless customer where to
park the car rental. I guess as soon as
the customer saw the manner on how I got out of the office, she started
realizing there must be something unusual going on in the area. I tried to find the best words and explain to
the customer in a very composed manner what’s the situation is all about so as
not to create any panic. All the same,
the customer threw out her hands in the air screaming at the top of her lungs “BOMB
THREAT BOMB THREAT”, dashed back to her car and never to return again.

Once the customer sped away, I made a decision to head back
to the office and help my co-workers who were still trap inside the office. I was just a few meters away from the office
when a 6ft brawny police officer yelled at me, “MA’M I WANT YOU TO STAY AWAY
FROM THE OFFICE NOW!” His loud
commanding voice scared the s#%t out of me that I managed to run 2 blocks away
from the office in a matter of seconds. This
may sound a little cheesy but at that dreadful moment, making phone calls to my
love ones and saying my last “I love you” would be the only logical thing to
do. I stood in one corner of the street,
looking completely stunned, waiting for further instructions from my manager
through the office Nextel phone, waiting for nothing or maybe waiting for the terrifying
sound of a bomb explosion.

Two hours after the lock down, there were no shattered walls
and windows, no debris falling out from the building, no smell of gasoline or
gun powder burning and most importantly no sound of people crying of pain or
screaming for help. It was just total
silence. Eventually, the police officers
informed us that it’s safe to go back to our office and carry-on with our
business. Later on, I found out from my
co-worker that the suspected bomb threat was a false alarm. Apparently, a worker from a nearby office was
transporting boxes from his truck to his office. As soon as this worker realized that he
couldn’t accommodate all the boxes in one trip up to his office, he decided to
leave one of them in-front of our office. The security people in our office building noticed that the box has been
left unattended for quite some time thus causing them to suspect for a terrorist
act and prompting them to call LAPD.

The first time I heard about the cause of this false alarm,
I got seriously annoyed with it. I found
the security people in the building, as well as the police officers,
overreacting towards the situation. Couldn’t they have done an in-depth investigation before they reacted
that way?  On the second thought, how
long and how much proof do we potential victims need to see to actually
consider a situation like this dangerous and life-threatening? Well, as much as my inquisitive mind would
die finding a proposition to this issue, I think I’d better leave it up to the upper
echelons of the Department of Homeland Security. So much for peace time freedom folks!                 

Oops, I think my whole plan for "My Belly Button
Belongs to Pinas but My Heart Resides in the

US

"
saga didn’t quite work as I’ve expected.  To say that I ran out of
profound realization to share is definitely out of the question.  Until
now I could chronicle, with much gusto, how compelling my re-education on the
Political and Cultural mentality in the

Philippines

after being away from the country for a couple of years.  As much as I
would like to continue with that topic, I realize for the past few weeks, my
present reality is catching up on me; and boy it does catch up like a speeding
bullet.  So I had no choice but to put my amazing and not so amazing
memories of my Philippine trip at the farthest back of my mind. 

Moving on, I’ve just entered a new chapter in my life.  A chapter in which
most of my friends and former classmates in the

Philippines

had gone through years way ahead of me.  I’ve officially completed my
Bachelor’s Degree last December and just recently I started working with a
company which I somehow see myself having a career in.  You see, this new
endeavor is not really my first full-time job.  Unfortunately, I’ve
blindly signed up myself to this corporate rat-race and American consumerism as
early as I’ve set foot in the

US

.
I had been one of those 8-5 office employees working their arse off just to
make ends meet.  Then, even when I decided to go back to school with a
full load and tons of term papers to submit, I heedlessly stabbed myself in the
heart by taking on a job that at one point required me to design a webpage (unfortunately
my boyfriend’s computer brilliance didn’t rub-off on me). 

So, how did this new chapter make any difference from others if I say I’ve
already immersed myself in the working world for a couple of years now? 
I guess getting a degree makes one heck of a difference.  It’s utterly
perplexing to think that that onion-skin like piece of paper we call diploma
could actually boost one’s confidence.  Humility aside, I’ve been
quick to grasp a variety of new tasks in every single job I’ve involved myself
with even during the time I was still completing my BA.  However, the
ability to speak up for my own terms and to stretch a little farther my
discretionary power at work until then remained at the back burner. 

In a greater sense, completing a degree assures a person
that he or she won’t get tangled in a vicious cycle of shifting from one
unsatisfying JOB to another.  Receiving a degree allows a hard working
individual to get himself or herself involved with a CAREER that no matter how
demanding it could get, the enthusiasm to perfect one’s craft is all that
matters in the end. In addition, a
career makes a lot of room to climb up the ladder wherein most of times
depended on the individual’s own pace. I
hope I’m not speaking too soon, but so far this new exhilarating career I am involved
with is providing me a considerable training suitable for developing skills
that would last a lifetime.     

cont….
I prefer not to greet readers with a shadow of negativity but my apology
couldn’t buy any time.  Obviously, there has been a bit of delay with the
third installment of "My Belly Button belongs to Pinas but My Heart
Resides in the US"
saga and I only got nothing else to point finger at but my rather dwindling
powers of sustaining sleeplessness during the witching hours.  To my family’s
unwavering supplication, I’ve gradually rehabilitated from my over-indulgence
towards nocturnal pleasure.  Otherwise, I’ll blame the delayed follow-up
post on another time consuming habit … job hunting! 

To continue from where I left of from the last post, I was trying to put the
pieces together and figure out why when the first few times I put my hands in
the steering wheel and drive along Edsa after being away for only four years,
suddenly cold sweat started running down my spine.  I found the situation
more than puzzling (I’m guessing my UA&P  Bball teammates who
christened me "Mang Phil" for being a reliable designated driver of
the team would feel likewise) since bustling through the overly haphazard
ensemble of motorists, pedestrians, and other road clutter in Edsa  had
been customary as taking a bath to me during my College days.  I heard
myself asking a friend tons of questions such as "how does anyone survive
driving in the road without clear lines separating the lanes and still manage
to get to his/her destination?"  My friend would just shrug at my
questions for he knew, beyond doubt, I know by heart how to answer them. 

 
Sadly, to survive in this road condition, a driver is
compelled to think "basta kasya kotse mo, isaksak mo lang." The supposedly 4 lanes in Edsa fragment
unsuitably into 7 (and the number of lanes change depending on the time of the
day).  Driving in Edsa is like a big race competition; some motorists get
the ultimate satisfaction in outwitting others on the road even if it would
involve a lot of cutting, tailgating, swerving and other dirty tricks you could
think of.   They say, it’s just a matter of knowing how to play the
game but then again assuming it’s a game don’t we all wanna play with
appropriate rules and well-structured system so at least we won’t end up
fighting helplessly for our precious life in the hospital.

 
On a lighter note, any dissatisfaction I might have about my
4 week trip to the
Philippines rests on political and administrative issues. Again, I wish to clarify that there were also political and
administrative issues which are equally worthy of recommendation. I still feel very much indebted to write
positive feedback especially about the ingenuity of the on-going construction
of MRTs in the Metropolitan area. I
personally deemed the construction an appropriate response to ease-out the expected
road traffic caused by shopping centers that are sprouting like mushrooms
within the area. I’ll try my best to share
my opinion about these matters on my subsequent blogs. [to be continued]

Staring up the ceiling at 1:24 am while all the noises outside the busy LA street have been muffled by the deafening silence of people inside my house, here I am waiting in vain for my eyelids to finally call it a day and boom. . .I just remembered I left my last post disappointingly hanging in the air.  My sincere apology goes out especially to people whom I’ve promised I would share a piece of my thoughts about the Philippines during my recent visit to the country.  Just a quick update on what’s been goin’ on with my physical state: I’m still helplessly trying to abandon my Philippine body clock and after too many exhausting efforts I continue eating my breakfast during the afternoon and hitting the sack at 4 in the morning.  I just laugh to myself everytime I overhear my parents commenting I might be under some narcotic that keeps me up all night.  Anyway, this time I’ll put this nocturnal moment into good use.  Before I delve deep into a discussion, I wanna post a disclaimer that I am not under any organized group paid to bludgeon any government official’s or organization’s image.  I would also forewarn readers that I’m in all honesty clean of denouncing every part of my being Filipino and thus no matter what I’m proud to be one and will forever be proud of my roots.   Conclusions that may arise from this posts are plainly a product of actual observation and a bit of acquired political knowledge of a person who carries a torch of hope for the betterment of the Philippines.

I am not in any way apt to compare side by side in grueling detail the services being offered by US gov’t offices with its Philippine counterpart. Entering such endeavor may even sound like comparing apples to oranges (plus I plan this post not to sound in anyway like my term papers).  However, given the available resources the Philippine gov’t offices have, I believe it’s safe for me to comment that most of them were not distributed to the most efficient and effective means possible.  As soon as I landed in the NAIA airport I saw a swarming number of people going about their own business (some picking up their luggage, others taking care of immigration requirements, and others getting lost or even by-passing processes) oblivious of the rules that have been put up there to ease admission of services.  Ofcourse, it easy to blame such chaos to those people who should have known better but the case doesn’t apply especially to airline passengers who don’t fly too often.  In addition, airports differ greatly from one country to another and a foreigner visiting the country for the first time would not easily first guess how the procedures go.  People need directions shown in placards or signboards that use clear cut language, offer visibility and function consistently with
each step of the actual procedure.  Frustratingly, these important considerations are still yet to be seen in NAIA.   Fortunately and I say this in great sarcasm, I was one of the victims of administrative mediocracy immediately after I landed my foot back in the Philippines.

Now, Filipinos are very well aware of the less than impressive road systems in the Philippines.  Many would openly agree that discussing about the stress that road traffic  wears on motorists and passengers is already old news.  Nevertheless, blowing off one’s fuse, hyperventilating inside one’s car or even stepping back and saying "ganyan talaga…walang tayong magagawa" over the effects of bumper to bumper traffic should never become a tolerable habit.  Again, to whom do we usually point our fingers at as a main cause to this road gridlock?  The bus drivers, the jeepney drivers, FX drivers and other public utility vehicle drivers who vehemently cut four lanes, ignoring whatever kind of profanity that comes out from affected disgruntled motorists, to pick-up or drop-off their passengers.  These drivers terribly need a great amount of disciplining but then again government personnel and the botched road system are undeniably responsible for the problem.  I could not stop from asking myself while I was trying out my driving skills in Edsa why there were no lines that separate one lane from another…{TO BE CONTINUED}

If there is one legitimate time I should be writing wide
awake, during the break of dawn, it should be at
this very moment.   I tell you, I won’t be running out of more than
valid reasons why I should tolerate such nocturnal pleasure.  After 3 days since my arrival from the Philippines, my body clock is going haywire over the sudden adjustment from Philippine time to US time.  At 4:03 am, while my parents obliviously break the silence of the night with their less than synchronized snore, I crave for an adrenalin pumping activity like climbing up and down the stairs or shooting some hoops outside the house.  Although I might be swayed to do these things (considering someone puts a $100 bill on the table), I still prefer not being yelled at by my friendly neighbors.  So, I guess I’m left with writing a blog to tire my self down.  Plus, in this very busy world of ours, who could have the time of day to listen to the grumble of a silly mind  (i think my boyfriend could).

Before I left LA for my much awaited Philippine trip, I promised to myself not to harbor any bit of selfishness with all the wonderful  things I’d be experiencing or witnessing in the Philippines.  I got my dad, my boyfriend and a bunch of relatives who haven’t gone back to the Philippines for eons of years and are all dying to appease the nostalgia of being away from the motherland. I thought I could be generous enough to at least take photos and share with my homesick love ones what the Philippines has become of at present.  If you’ve got the chance of checking my multiply account, looking at the sheer number of quality pictures produced not just by my digital cam but my friends’ as well, you’d say I have been consistent with my promise.   Pictures do say a lot of things.  Then again, I feel I’ll be more generous to them and I guess it will be more convenient for them (especially those who are incessantly bothered with slow internet connection) if I try to encapsulate all my Philippine memories in an honest to goodness prose.

This post serves only as a preface.  I’ll try to organize all my thoughts into easy to digest portions.  For my friends and relatives who will be kind enough to follow my blogs, we will be expecting discussions on Philippine Politics (i tell you such a topic would be impossible to by-pass), relationships gone well or on the other case gone sour (hopefully i don’t go too tactless on this one), chosen careers and missed opportunities and lots more!  I pray on bended knees, as day goes by, I will not forget any poignant realization from my Philippine trip.  I pray on bended knees with eyes tightly shut, I’ll continue to have this weird body clock so I’ll enjoy writing and put my nocturnal hours to the fullest.   

I wasn’t aware that I haven’t updated this blog for almost two months already.  To be honest, school work doesn’t really grab me by the neck this semester as much as the previous semesters.  If I may recall, I mentioned in my earlier posts that I’ve been very fortunate to have my last semester in College devoted on the easiest courses.  I realized for the past few months, I’ve been out of the house all the time, accommodating my dearly missed friends who are visiting from the Philippines.  There was actually a surge of different sets of friends (some are from UA&P days and some are from my St. Scho days) who coincidentally all decided to check-out California during the months of October, November, and December.  Please don’t think I’ve been troubled with touring them around.  It has been my greatest pleasure meeting with them again; spending time to reminisce days of old with them literally and figuratively completes my day.  Anyway, that left me less time to cozy-up in my room, sip a warm cup of tea and pour-out my thoughts into my computer.  That’s perfectly okay.

My long awaited trip to the Philippines is just around the corner and in each morning I wake-up to, I wish it was the day I’m about to board the plane.  In the night, before I finally call it a day, I take some precious minutes wondering how different the Philippines has been since the time I left almost 5 years ago.  I find it a little troublesome identifying oneself as Filipino (no matter where in the world he or she is) without even being aware of what’s shaking the country up lately.

Aside from reading Filipino newspapers and magazines published here in California, lucky me, I also get to have my dose of Filipino consciousness from my family’s subscription of TFC (The Filipino Channel).  Shows like Wowowee and Game Ka Na Ba? (which I never got the chance of watching while I was in the Philippines) though often entertaining and hilarious, reveal some shadow of bleakness perhaps reflected by one’s dissatisfaction on his or her overwhelming financial responsibilities.  I apologize if i may appear to harbor a skeptic stance but the sheer number of people pushing and tossing each other around (even resulting in a frenzied stampede) perceive winning in the game show as their only option of escape from extreme poverty.  I hope this less than amusing occurence will serve as a wake-up call especially to the Department of Labor and Employment to innovate policies which actually deliver employment opportunities to the ones who are most in need.

I’m still in the process of investigating on which news outfit delivers the most credible, honest, and partisan-politics free information but so far the way I see it, the media does little on projecting a good image of the Philippines.  News on Philippine television screams "Corruption"!  Sure, it has long been a sordid reality that our very own leaders who are supposed to direct us to the way to good citizenship, are the very ones stomping on our dreams.  However, shouldn’t the media also acknowledge those hard-working and selfless public servants who never give up on figuring-out which endeavors will make the country a better place to live in?  Filipino news are too dramatic, too sensationalize, and they instill too much fear on Filipino viewers.  I know it sounds too idealistic to even think that there will be an apocalypse for television networks’ competition over viewer statistics, but can we just have a day with news teams dedicated on revealing the truth immune to ulterior motives and egotistical interests?

I’d like to end this post on a happy note.  I got a chance of being enlightened by my boyfriend’s father about what has been really going on in the Philippines right now.  I think his enthusiasm over some improvements on the public transportation system as well as the emergence of malls and other infrastructure in the Philippines rubbed-off on me.  He vigorously emphasized and shared with us how much more convenient it is now to commute from one mall to another in the greater Manila area because of connecting MRTs.  I take the construction of MRts as a positive note since in purpose it would ease out the flow of traffic especially with the number of cafes, bars, restaurants, mall and other buildings being put-up around the area.  It is my deepest expectation that these growing businesses would offer more employment opportunities to my honest and hard-working fellow Filipinos.  Given that good news, I can’t wait to go see the Philippines again!

Being physically
distant from the bumper to bumper traffic and the rather warm and
smoggy air in Edsa for three and half years doesn’t sound really that
long.  In fact, every time I find time to escape the insistence of my
present reality here in the US, I vividly picture my home country the Philippines, particularly the distressing route to my school in
Ortigas.  I just find myself totally amused remembering how
equally inconvenient and yet excited I was every time I leave
the car parked at home and instead take the M. Dela Rosa bus on my way
to school.

My typical
route back then commenced from trying to get the attention of a
speeding bus to stop and hoping there was enough vacant seats so I wouldn’t
face the nuisance of having to stand in the aisle and balance myself throughout
an hour and 30 minutes of bumpy ride.  If it wasn’t my luckiest day,
then I’m left with that balancing act for the whole trip complete
with the scrutinizing stares from nosy strangers while my eyes are trying
to fight-off sleepiness.  If the gods were not too crazy, then I get to
squeeze- in myself and my colossal jersey bag into a vacant
seat either along the two-seater or the three-seater side in the
bus.  I wouldn’t complain whether the person sitting beside me is an ax
murderer who hasn’t bathed for a week or even a stunning politician who has
stolen all the people’s money. As long
as there is no fresh saliva slowly drooling down from his or her mouth to my
neatly pressed shirt while his or her head leans on my shoulder as sleep drives
this person to oblivion . . . absolutely fine with me.         

The travel from the Express Way, passing the cities of Alabang, Sucat and Paranaque,
to the South Super Highway
along Magalanes area could either come in a breeze or could end up exhaustively
long. Apparently, about 80% of my commute
to Ortigas during my freshman through senior year was a perfect calvary wherein
vehicles moving more sluggish than a speeding turtle were ironically driven by individuals
with fast mouths throwing-out 250 cussing words per minute. If worse comes to worst, such less than
humorous situation may escalate into a deadly road rage.

Inside the bus carried a much
sympathetic air wherein passengers although disappointed about not being on
time with their “important” engagements, were bashful if not cautious that
their sudden outburst may disrupt the silence and draw too much attention in a
close quartered environment. Accordingly, this was the moment I excitedly anticipate in my travel
because of three essential things. First,
it gave me a chance to make-up for precious sleep hours lost from waking-up too
early in order to catch the bus. Second,
it offered me ample time to skim through my notes in case a quiz comes up or in
case the professor feels like terrorizing students with a graded
recitation. There were even occasions I
did a last minute revision on my research paper. Third and most importantly, it generously
provided a moment solely for me to think about how Filipinos despite of the
rather unstable and haphazard political atmosphere plus a substandard economic
capacity somehow still manage to attend to their daily affairs. The ever increasing gas prices never stop
commuters in occupying every single seat in the bus. Some were more than willing to pay even if
they would be standing in the middle of the aisle through the whole trip just
to get to their destination. Most of
these desperate passengers could even come up with the silliest jokes and
took-off from the bus with that weird smirk on their face that says a million
words.

As I reached my stop right in
front of Megamall along the Edsa road, I held in my thoughts that funny
expression painted on the faces of the passengers. I constantly tried to decode if such
expression is something I should be proud of to the point of emulating it and
boasting it as a truly impressive Filipino characteristic. Or should it be treated as another apologetic
stance resolutely attached to the Filipino culture that oftentimes leads to the
people’s downfall.

I wonder if being away from my motherland for
three and half years is considered a long time. Long enough for the recent political upheavals to alter the
idiosyncratic attitude of resiliency and piety that Filipinos embrace
firmly. Though my upcoming visit to the Philippines this December already has a set itinerary on visiting
the famous beaches of the South, I will definitely not miss out on that
valuable opportunity of taking the same old route along Edsa. 

I know, this "Technically, It’s Summer Vacation"
post is becoming an uncontrollable obsession already.  I promise, this is
going to be the last you’ve ever seen of it.   I am left with two
precious weeks to unwind, rejuvenate and forget about any school related
demands but something tells me all of these will turn into a bubble of wishful
thinking.  For the last time, I ask your patience to please allow me to
unfetter myself from my whining nature.  Written below is the last batch
of reasons why my so-called summer vacation requires a lot of explaining to do.

1. Plato, Aristotle, Confucius, the Old Testament, the Roman Catholic Church,
the Buddhists, and even an ordinary person all have got some logical, deeply
founded explanation over the concept of wisdom.  All would agree that
wisdom is an ability many have been dying to aspire for but only few have been
endowed with.  Two years ago, I got my share of this uncommon ability when
four wisdom teeth grew fortuitously like mushrooms inside my mouth.  Just
as I am about to boast the only kind of wisdom I have in me, my dentist,
without any reservations advised me to have my four wisdom teeth removed all in
one day.  Two days ago, the big day came. Thanks to advance medical
procedures, I laid there inside the dentist’s clinic, doped with anesthesia
while my mouth wide open, oblivious to God knows what kind of
horrific incision the dentist maneuvered to pull out my precious wisdom
teeth.  Now, just forget about any pain that may arise from a tooth
extraction.  Anyway, I got my handy Ibuprofen to take care of the possible
excruciating pain.  Since, we are in the matter of wisdom here, I believe
the only wisest thing that could have come up when dentists decided that wisdom
teeth should be removed is food deprivation.  Let me tell you, I’m being
sarcastic on this one.  Food is more than a matter of sustenance and
survival for me.  Food nourishes every empty layer of my existence. This
may sound cliched (corny to be exact) but food completes me.  If I may
quote the dentist’s very detailed instructions "diet should be limited to
soft meals such as soup and oatmeal for the length of 3 days to a
week".  Any amount of soup and oatmeal won’t ever stop the hunger
inside my grumbling stomach.  There goes teeth extraction, stealing away a
delightful summer vacation together with my crispy KFC chicken and buttery
popcorn.

2. Final paper for my judicial internship is up!  Just exactly 7 days from
now, I should be handing my professor a well thought of, highly organized, very
neat, error-free 15 paged paper which summarizes the lessons from the assigned
book and relates lessons from the book to my valuable experiences in the
superior court.  All forms of procrastination aside, this will surely be
an arduous feat especially for someone who would be living only through soup
and oatmeal for almost a week.  I won’t be surprised finding myself stuck
for 4 hours on page one with only my name, the date, the professor’s name and
the course title written on that clean piece of paper.  On the other hand,
my parents would be the ones who’ll get the surprise of their life, finding
their daughter attending not one mass on Sunday but all scheduled masses on
that day.

Ladies and Gentlemen, your patience is highly appreciated! Thank you and goodnight.  Let me rest my
case now.