I Give Up

(This entry is a repost from my Friendster Blog. Just edited and updated it a bit.)

... how do you say you're giving up the fight?
... how do you accept that the fight is over?
... how do you face defeat?

Yes, I gave up the fight. I just gave it up. But no, i am not going to admit defeat. I gave up the fight because it was not a good fight. I gave up the fight because it was not meant to be.

Yes, I gave up the fight, but I am not a coward. I gave it up not because of fear, or weakness either. I gave up the fight because I chose to give it up. I gave up the fight while I still had some strength left in me to give it up.

I remember a learning experience I share with my seven-year-old niece. She was only six at that time, and new to school. One Sunday afternoon, she started complaining about a classmate who kept pulling and tugging at her ponytails. Typically, my brothers told her to just do the same, to pull at her classmate's ponytails, too. I watched her in amusement as I waited for her childlike reply. I must say that I was expecting her to concede, but alas, I was in for a surprise. She smiled, and proudly said that she can do that, why not, but then it would lead to a nasty fight, and only stupid people do that. Hah. The wisdom of a six-year-old.

So, am I guilty of cowardice when I gave up the fight? I'd say NO. I just took after my niece. I just learned from her six-year-old wisdom.

I just learned the importance of choosing my own battles.

I gave up the fight but I did not give in.

Nunca daré adentro.

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Seven Things that Happened in March

1.

Lost weight. Lost 4 kgs (or roughly 8.81 lbs), especially during the first two full weeks of the month. Doesn't make me happy, anyhow. If I lost weight either because of dieting or working out, then that's fine. But I lost weight because of sadness. Yep. Sadness has a way of 'eating' me. And why am I sad? Well, oh, well... read entry #7.

2.

At 33, my nocturnal asthma has advanced into a strike-anywhere, strike-anytime thing. In other words, it’s a full-blown asthma. Sadness. It used to be occasional attacks, starting with hacking coughs and deep, feline-sounding wheezes that sometimes make me wonder if I’ve really swallowed a cat. And now this full-blown asthma, according to my doctor, can attack anytime and anywhere. Again, according to him, it is caused by various allergens like mites, dust, smoke, and pollen. And on the day I had the most severe asthma attack, I thought I was going to die. The hacking coughs and the wheezing just wouldn’t stop, making it very difficult for me to breathe. I was crying and coughing and wheezing all at the same time. After spending half an hour at an hospital ER for a nebulization, I felt a bit better. And now I am carrying a small turbohaler with me wherever I go. Might as well wear an asthma-alert bracelet. Awww.

3.

On a dark, chilly night, when the sky was adorned by stars, and while standing on a bridge watching cars and people passing by, someone kissed me so sweetly, so deeply, so passionately…

Ah, the memory of that sweet kiss…

4.

On that same cold, chilly night, I got drunk as a skunk on Emperador Brandy. Ha. How brave. How mighty. How… foolish? After gulping six (or is it seven?) bottles of pure, unadulterated, ice-less San Miguel Beer Pale Pilsen, I was on top of the world! Meaning: I could still stand from where I was seated (a good measure of my alcohol tolerance); I could still walk without the drunk-stagger; AND I could still drink s’more. And so I made yabang to my drinking buddies and said, yes, the mighty me could definitely take s’more shots of the golden drink called Emperador. Wahehe. After the nth shot, I could not even wear my eyeglasses. Fuck.

Oh, but did I say I have already consumed half a bottle of Blackberry Merlot before the beer? Ahaha. How lethal can that be? Good God.

5.

Let go of my Nokia N70. For a reason that I do not want to divulge here. So, so, so sad…

6.

In the middle of this month, I became the rightful tenant of Apartment No. 1 somewhere out there in the middle of a quiet neighborhood in Bay, Laguna. It may appear funny to some, irritating to others, that I spent half a day choosing the light bulbs and door knobs for my flat (I’d like to call it a flat). And another half a day buying cleaning aids and basic stuff (clothes hangers, hampers, pail, dippers, basins, soap dishes, dustpan, sweepers, etc.). The meticulous me wanted everything in blue, but then again, I know I can never have everything I want in this lifetime. Ahehe. And so I settled for white whenever an item is unavailable in blue. *Sigh.*

Spent a day moving my stuff from my previous house to my new flat. (Spent entire nights for a week packing all those stuff!!!) Bought new stuff too – bed, dining table, chairs, closets, wall clock, etc. Don’t know where all my money came from for all these things. Wahaha. What is more amazing is the realization that I am capable of doing a lot of things.

Well, now, at least I can:

1. run errands for myself, e.g., pay utility bills, apply for cable connection, etc. (easy pa naman ya-an)
2. clean a house (yes, that’s a fact).
3. make my own bed (used to do it before and so it’s not an earth-shaking fact anymore).
4. sort, wash, hang, dry, and iron my own clothes (waaahhh!!! my hands are now so rough… *sigh*).
5. buy and cook my own food (hmmm…).
6. wake up early in the morning and make my own breakfast (makes me miss Lily so terribly).
7. take care of my own garbage (does this convince anyone now how domesticated I have become?).
8. wash my own toilet and bath (?!@#%$&*!!!!! wtf!!! now this is an earth-shaking fact).
   

Ah, the ills of living alone.

7.

Also, in the middle of this God-forsaken month, Lily, my Lily, left for the US of A. AGAIN.

Now, need I say anything more?

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Double Whammy

Double Whammy - A double blow or setback.
(from The Phrase Finder at http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/119750.html)

Here's my Double Whammy.

Among the dozen pairs of footwear stored in my closet, I have chosen, through time, two favorites. One is very dependable, very durable, very flexible. The other is very fancy, very eye-catching, very ultra-modern.

Truly, the contrast between the two is quite enormous and to compare them would be an injustice.

The first pair is indeed very expensive. Made of expensive patent leather, it has stood the tests of time and the rigors of life. Rain or shine, the pair has been my constant favorite. Its durability and flexibility is extraordinary. The shoes could be worn with any pair of jeans: denims, curdoroys, soft slacks, name it. And this pair have been with me for almost half my life! Beat that. It has accompanied me through most of my life. Gone through travels with me, walked with me to faraway places, saw me cry when I was down and beaten, heard me laugh when I am in high spirits. I have always felt confident whenever I wore them.

Last month, however, I noticed scratches on the old, brown leather. Battered through time, the leather began to crack up. I tried to mend them using expensive cleaning materials and adhesives, but to no avail. Last week, I wore them to work again when an asthma attack occurred. And while I was having a nebulization at the emergency room of LBDH, i saw the scratches became gaping tears that can never be mended again. Sadness.

Whammy No. 1: Leather Shoes laid to rest.

The second pair, or, to call it, the "other" pair, came to my fancy only very recently. It is a pair of high-cut red canvass-type sneakers that I have always dreamed of owning since I was a child. And since its sole is rubber, I expected it to be more durable and comfortable than the pair of leather shoes, but alas, I was in for more surprise. They were not.

Two Saturdays ago, as I was trying to wash off the grime and dirt off them, I discovered a hole on the heel part of the left pair. I was very disappointed. So much for brand names and expectations, I guess. So much for show. The red pair is like a hen cackling noisily after laying an egg, so noisy that you'd think she'd laid an asteroid.

Well, I could get a pair of red canvass sneakers again, but after investing on the first, I guess I will have to refrain from buying "sneaks" in the meantime and save up for another pair of patent leather shoes.

Whammy No. 2: Red Canvass Sneakers laid to rest.

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