wasting time is relative

Okay, I changed my mind. The geeks of The Big Bang Theory are not only making fun of each other anymore. They are now making fun of non-geeks like us who don't have double PhDs (a Master's Degree doesn't count but I wonder if an MD does). To them they are normal. We, unfortunately, fall way below their standards. That's just putting it lightly. Bluntly, we are stupid.

Doesn't really stop the show from being funny, though. LOL!


On another note, I was on the phone with my bestfriend last night. I told her I was actually considering getting a PhD instead of entering a residency program.

She was indignant. She yammered about what I could possibly do with a PhD and that I was just going to waste my time getting one. All these from someone who just finished her Master's Degree and is planning to get an MD-PhD.

Somebody please tell me, when did getting a PhD start becoming a waste of time?

This time I admit, I don't get it.

the big bang theory

I first heard about this sitcom from a Multiply contact. Initially, I was apprehensive about watching it. I was afraid it was going to be replete of geeky stereotypes and will be downright demeaning.

Well, the show is indeed full of geeky stereotypes. What's fun about it is these geeks have FUN being geeks. They poke fun at each others mistakes and shower insults on incorrect equations. They play their video games, discuss gastronomic redundancies, play around with sending electronic signals around the planet and generally enjoy themselves. After listening to the witty and brainy banter you actually feel that you've raised your IQ a few points. In the end you find that you're not laughing at them because they are geeks. You're laughing at them because they're laughing at themselves. They are in reality laughing with us as we laugh at them. Even geeks have a sense of humor.

Oh, for crying out loud. Just watch it. If you're not laughing after one episode, you probably just didn't get it.



Catch more of The Big Bang Theory here.

sunday

Only sadists wake up at 5 am on a Sunday morning to hear mass at 6. Today, I was one of them, along with a churchful of people it seems.

Today, I celebrate with my cousin Sabrina as the Catholic church welcomes her on her christening.

Happy birthday to my late grandfather, too!

all in the family

I talked to my Dad after almost a year of not finding the time to call.

When he asked I told him that I used to smoke but quit 6 years ago just before I entered med school. He still smokes, as much as a pack a day I suppose.

We're both big on coffee. He drinks two pots a day. I told him I'm trying to cut down so I can sleep better. He chuckled as he said coffee doesn't really keep him awake anymore.

His late night ritual: smoke a cigarette, drink a nice cup of coffee and then go to bed.

Minus the cigarette, this apple does not fall far from the tree.

Share a cup with me.

surgery

Behind the drapes as an anesthesiology intern

Surgery and Anesthesiology may not be my cup of tea (or coffee!) but right now I'm really missing the hospital.

tricycle

Sabi ng driver: Forty pesos na po ang tricyle papuntang Don Ramos.

Sabi ko: Sige, maglalakad na lang ako.

snapshot

Picture this:

I am in a bus one Sunday afternoon.

The dashboard is decked in bright green Hello Kitty curtains and the windows are shaded by grimy red ones.

I keep wondering if I look scary or at least intimidating because the man sitting beside me sits half a feet away. He must be a painter of sorts judging by the look of his paint-splotched jeans. I can hear him singing. REM is playing on the bus’ radio and he looks the other way as he sings Everybody Hurts.

I keep reading Paul Neilan’s Apathy and Other Small Victories. Shane, the novel’s protagonist, thinks people are like punchlines. I look up from reading and think this bus is a joke.


It starts raining when we get to Turbina. I take a picture through the bus window as we pass the station. Rain on a sunny mid-afternoon - it's there one minute, the next minute it's gone. I am reminded of people as punchlines as the bus squeaks tiredly along.

pay day weekend

I deferred going home to the province today. I woke up late and had to do a few errands. Lately, it's been alternating days of waking up early and waking up late. It's been alternating days of being productive and unproductive as well.

I went to Cubao in the afternoon to have some repair work done on my mobile phone. The jeepney from Kalayaan stopped in front of AliMall. I had a late lunch and proceeded to the second level to have my phone fixed. Renovations where still ongoing at AliMall and there really wasn't a lot to see. I walked through, crossed the street and headed to Gateway.

Just like during Halloween Gateway was cashing in on the Holiday spirit. Halloween saw witches and broomsticks and men walking on stilts. This coming season we are to expect a white Christmas. Santa Claus was already there. Interesting enough instead of little kids sitting on his knee, grown-up women were lining up to take pictures with him.

I forgot that it was a pay day weekend. There were so many people milling around Gateway and too many employees in business suits handing out brochures for rent-to-own apartments and newly built houses in subdivisions far, far away.

I checked the cinema at the top floor just in case there was something I wanted to see but there wasn't anything I was remotely interested in. Why is it that there is never something nice on when I have all the time in the world to watch? Stupid question, I know.

No tickets to buy at the cinema: all the time in the world but nothing to see.

I went to FullyBooked instead where I was glad to see so many people for a change. Even though the majority of the book shoppers where reaching for Twilight I was still happy at the thought of so many people reading.

I don't think I have ever bought a book at that FullyBooked branch though. I love going through the new titles there. I enjoy comparing prices and book covers of different editions. I carefully weigh in my hand the hardcovers of my favorite books. But I've never bought a book there before. They do have a good selection but at the moment I really can't afford to buy new books there.

From there I walked to Farmer's Plaza and went straight down to the lower ground to Booksale where I was sure I could afford a couple of used books. After almost an hour of going through the new stocks I did come out happy.

I finally have a copy of The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by Oliver Sacks. I have been looking for it a long time and at P40 it was definitely a steal. I also finally decided to try reading Kathy Acker. Her novel My Mother: Demonology may not be the best place to start but the chances of coming across a Kathy Acker book at other bookstores is almost close to nil so I got it.

This is becoming more of a book blog than a travel blog, not that it's a bad thing. But it really does seem that I have to put going on the road aside for a while to hit the books instead. In truth, I shouldn't be out buying new books. I should be getting out my medical textbooks and burning the midnight oil again.

I've been on vacation long enough. I need to start working again. I know I've got a long road ahead of me so I better start preparing.


Next time it's a pay day weekend I'm going to have money in my pocket.

walking the backpack

My backpack has been sitting forlornly on the floor. Relatively new at three months old it has been to and from Batangas, gone around Metro Manila, spent a few days at Cebu, got covered in white sand in Bohol and jostled around by Chinese in Hong Kong. But in the last couple of weeks it has only seen the inside of my apartment. Today I decided to take it out for a short walk.

I was on my way to UP Village again. I was broke and was planning to consign a few books to sell at a bookshop there. Walking the backpack came in handy as the books fit snugly inside. Late in the afternoon children were already out in the street playing.


There were toys strewn all over the road in front of a pre-school at Matahimik.


A few steps away a paper cup lay on the gravel. I pondered over whether it was some adult's litter or some little kid's toy.



Walking along I myself felt like a kid curious to learn why someone smashed a hole in the wall


A block away I silently praised the paint job that gave the gates' texture . . .


. . . and wondered why I had never heard mass at Immaculate Heart of Mary Parish Church


I marveled at the fresh bright greens at Mahusay . . .


. . . and ended up at the bookshop where a group of artists where having a forum.


After perusing the new titles I went home happy carrying a 1948 edition of The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri, translated by Lawrence Grant White, with engravings by Gustave Dore.

Still a productive afternoon, I'd say.

terminal

I love riding on buses and trains. I love the feel of being in perpetual motion. I love passing on bridges and going through tunnels. I love the play of light and dark coming through the windows. I love the colorful characters I share a seat with.

But I am not a fan of waiting. Buses and trains never seem to leave the terminal on time. I always lament over wasting the better part of an hour waiting when I could already be some place else.

On the other hand, waiting in airports is another matter entirely. With longer lines and longer waiting time one would expect me to absolutely hate it. I don’t. I love it.

There is something in the air in airports. There is a buzz that makes me feel that I’m already moving even though I’m sitting still. There is that excitement within that connotes that the journey doesn’t start when I hop on the plane. It has started the moment I left home. Waiting in the airport is already part of the journey.

Though for most parts I am at airports for domestic flights the buzz, the excitement is not diminished. And in every new flight the buzz is amplified.



Arriving at Hong Kong International Airport, we were debating whether to take the airport express or the train to the city.



Rows and rows of empty blue seats to choose from – I could change my seat every five minutes and I still wouldn’t run out of a place to sit down



I fell in love with the shadows made by the afternoon sun filtering in through the windows



Having a book to read is a good idea, but who needs reading material when there’s a whole airport to see

katipunan

I had nothing to do the whole day. I didn’t want to stay indoors. It wasn’t exactly the best time to be cooped up especially after getting the unfortunate news of non-acceptance in my hospital of choice. So after the midday rain I ventured to my old college grounds in Katipunan.

I started walking at the corner of Rosa Alvero. During my last two years in college I had stayed in an apartment building on the same street. I used to satisfy my sweet tooth with Twix and Coke from the convenience store, had mudpies at DQ and coffee at Mister Donut – all of which have now been replaced by different shops. The McDonald’s at the corner was undergoing renovations and was a very sorry sight to behold. The take out van was deserted and only a young couple was inside the small area for dine-in customers.

I walked past Starbucks, still empty at that time, and went straight to National Bookstore. I had spent many afternoons at that NBS branch but I don’t remember it ever looking as festive as it did today. The Christmas trees were up and the lights gave out an orange glow that warmed my insides. It almost made me feel happy.

Next door the Subway where I used to have a bag of Doritos and Tuna on wheat bread was now replaced by Greenwich. Walking further along I noted that Seattle’s Best Coffee now stood where Burger King used to be. I used to have endless refills of grape juice with my breakfast at BK.

Seven years is a long time. I remember late nights sitting by the fire escape in my old apartment. I could see Katipunan from there. I was a terrible insomniac and would stay up the whole night watching as cars drove by. On weekends I could watch kids play soccer over at Ateneo.

I expected a lot of changes in the area but I had not expected an almost entirely different landscape. The shops are different. The restaurants are different. I didn’t even notice what was standing over the spot where the 24 hour Goodah used to be. At two in the morning I used to swap stories with my sister over a hot bowl there.

A whole strip of shops had been torn down. The Filbar’s where I used to buy comic books and Ken Afford with its orange walls were also gone.

I would’ve continued walking straight on to UP (following my usual route back in college) if the sky didn’t show signs of rain again. With my nostalgic trip cut short I took a cab instead and went straight to a bookshop in UP Village. I'll just have to take a rain check.

trip to cubao

Three years after - different apartment, different occupation, different music, different books - Cubao is still the same for me.



October 19, 2005/ Sa Overpass

It has been alternating days of waking up late at ten in the morning or waking up early at six. Aside from the waking hour there really isn’t much difference between the two. I still make myself a cup of coffee as soon as I wake up, check my email and afterwards decide what book to read. I’m usually too lazy to go out so I don’t move from my seat until after twelve when I fix something for lunch and wolf it all down in five minutes. I have another cup of coffee after that and resume reading. I swear, if I were man I would be a terrible, terrible slob. As it is, I’m already on the way to getting there.

The other day I managed to get myself out of bed early, take a shower and get out of my apartment before noon. I found myself at Cubao after an uneventful ride on a bus that smelled faintly of mangga and bagoong. I’ve never crossed the overpass near Farmer’s market in the day before. Usually it would be at around 8 or 9 in the evening when I find myself crossing EDSA, waiting to have dinner with a friend. Why Cubao for a dinner date? Simply because it was the most convenient, just a single bus ride both ways.

Late in the afternoon, holed up in one corner of Mister Donut having a cup of coffee and pretending to read a book, I watched as the pedestrian traffic traversing the mall increased. Here were all the men and women going home from their day job, getting off the MRT, crossing the mall to get a ride somewhere else. I watched for hours as all these beautiful people go through the rituals of daily living. I think to myself, aside from the people minding their stores around the area, no one really stays at Cubao for long during the day. But between 5 and 8 pm Cubao seems to be teeming with life. It appears to be at the heart of everything until one realizes that it serves as nothing but an unremarkable stop on the way to one’s destination. Just like an airport. An airport is never really a destination in itself, it is just a means to get to one. I think to myself: if I was here earlier there would be an entirely different set of people passing through.

And I watch as the people shuffle tiredly along.

Listening to: Wine, Women and Song (Harvey Danger)
Reading: The Tesseract (Alex Garland)

RIP: Michael Crichton, 66

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Michael Crichton, the million-selling author of such historic and prehistoric science thrillers as Jurassic Park,Timeline and The Andromeda Strain, has died of cancer, his family said.

He died Tuesday in Los Angeles at age 66 after a long battle with the illness."

http://www.usatoday.com/life/books/news/2008-11-05-michael-crichton_N.htm

I started reading Michael Crichton as a freshman in high school. It was around the time when the movie "Jurassic Park" came out and my science high school friends' idea of having fun was trying to separate fact from fiction in mass media productions.

Through the years I've always picked up his books. I haven't been so thrilled about his writing lately but out of habit every time a new Crichton book is published I still check it out.

I admire that his books are replete of steadfast and intelligent women. Women who are at the forefront of science, research, technology and the industry. Young readers just might find role models in them.

But I have to admit, with my interest in Molecular Microbiology and Molecular Medicine, Andromeda Strain is a favorite.

ER post

From duty at the ER I come home and find I can't fall asleep. I am definitely sleepy after getting only 15-minute naps between bedside procedures and assessing new patients who arrive. There are a lot of patients awaiting labs, IJ catheter insertions and dialysis. At two in the morning very few patients arrive. If it were not for due blood extractions and IV insertions I could have probably slept a good two hours before morning endorsements.

I come home from duty at the ER. I am tired but can't fall asleep.

I turn on the TV and watch ER instead.


Such is life.