hospital angst??

I'm not usually comfortable in hospitals. My family has people in the medical field, as doctors, nurses and medical technicians. But I don't usually hang out there. It's the smell of antiseptics and the constant traffic of patients that make me dizzy.

Sunday night, after a day of hanging out with my best friends, I made my way home, rather tired and sated. I chose not to spend time with my SO that day because I can be such a drama queen and he was too tired to deal with it. However, when he texted that he's actually at the ER of a nearby hospital, I dropped everything, scampered into my shorts, grabbed the essentials and made my way there.

He got some allergic attack going on and, yes, I was bugged out of my mind. He was so weak that he rested his head on my shoulder from time to time. I stayed there until he was safely in a room and I went home, losing my appetite for my dinner that got postponed.

Fast forward to Thursday. I spent the night there Monday night until Tuesday morning (didn't have classes). I watched over him, got his medicines, tried not to look when the nursed came with their needles, and let him use my comforter. Then he got moved into a private room where the most unbelievable thing happened. I don't believe I've seen a student nurse who kept on fussing with her hair while interviewing her patient, asking the most mundane questions and giggling through most of them.

And, he admitted, he enjoyed being fawned over.......................grrrrrrrrrr......somebody hand me an axe, I'd like to add to his injuries....

Peculiarities with the Ps and the Cs....

A week ago or so, there was a power outage again that more or less placed the city at a standstill. It rolled in about noontime and humidity was hellish. It was unannounced and unexpected. I work for a company which is wholly dependent on electricity for its daily operations, I took it upon myself to call PECO. Having memorized the electric company's phone number by heart, I called them and, after a series of rings, a man took my call and kindly answered my questions pertaining the loss of power. He was very helpful and apologetic with the whole situation, claiming that PECO had nothing to do with the outage since it only relays the electricity produced by the PPC. He claimed that there was probably a power trip-off with PPC. He claimed that they are still awaiting a phone call from PPC. I asked if I can call the company directly and he said I'm not the only one who asked for the number. He even gave me the number that will connect me with PPC.

So there I was, feeling a bit settled that finally I can get the answer for myself. After a few rings, a lady to my call and she did identify the number as that of PPC's. I asked my question and the answer that I got surprised me. The lady started complaining why they are the ones getting phone calls and complaints when she is sure that nothing is wrong with their system. She also said that it is PECO's system that is at fault.

Tsk..tsk...tsk....power comes with great responsibilities....

I'd rather leave them at their tongue-wagging and finger pointing antics, hoping not to have jacked up electricity bills to compensate for restoring the system. With a mindblowing price of kilowatt per hour in our city, can't we have at least an announcement from any one of them? Maybe next time, I should insist in getting their names....then we can announce here who to call when the lights go out.....

.....apartment bliss...

Room 404...my dad and nearly everyone in my family groaned at the prospect of having to climb up three flights of stairs with all my stuff and more. But the privacy of my own place won me over. The view is not so bad. The tiled floor is in a good condition and the water service is hardly interrupted. I'm still without a bedframe so I'm sleeping on the floor. My mom bought the ref and my dad helped me haul everything up the stairs. I still need a radio, a shoe rack (according to someone I know), a single-burner stove, a respectable dining table for two and an extra storage closet for my stuff. I plan to move my lavender here with me once it becomes more sturdier and healthier.

So here's to the start of a long flight....

Helping and healing....

Two words that would make a difference all the time.

There is that a part of me that for the most part of my life I cannot begin to understand. Those who knew me call it my pure heart...a heart that I cannot seem to control. How can it remain so pure? Why am I driven to make my life more earthly (is there such a word) as if I am running away from being taken back to heaven (making it sound so mundane)?

I still can't stop myself from putting the essentials on the line so that I can take away the pain of another. I know...we should avoid doing everything at our own expense. It is just so stupid (this word is so apt) but still I can't help doing it.

Nowadays, I still dream of running away, of walking away after I have done my part in this world. I am so tired. But there is just so much to be done....

Rainy days, K-Pop, and everything else....

While I'm writing this, I am listening to K-pop through my student who begins each class with a current favorite pop song. The weather is more than crazy today.... I have been living in this city for more than a quarter of the century and I still haven't gotten used to its weather....and its people....

I guess I'm one of those people who is lulled to sleep by rain and fighting every second of it. As of now, the skies outside are blue with a touch of grey...the dreariness of this day makes it hard to breathe....

Jumping out of the nest.....for the nth time....

How often do people take a second chance in learning how to fly their own? How about the third and the fourth.....

Moving to a new pad is not, well, new to me. But I found this wonderful place I can call my own. I have a landlady who believes in superstitions and I will live in a neighborhood that is seemingly quiet but really interesting.

A room to finally call my own....

Friends In A Box

Finally, after months of waiting, I now have my Tae Yang Maguna and My Pullip Blanche. I haven't taken them out of their boxes yet, even from the box they have travelled in from the store. Nope, I don't have to pinch myself. But I'm now planning to have a doll case made for my growing collection. The dolls don't have names yet. So far, of all my dolls, only my bisque doll has a name. Names that have been suggested are as follows: Elise (Blanche), Richard (Maguna), Chiriko (Maguna), Miranda Bright (Blanche) and Blair Templeton IV (Maguna). I wonder if the names have to be Japanese. I'm still taking suggestions.