[Writing Meme] Day 6: Whatever catches your fancy
I am a workaholic because I don’t like being restless. I also like money a lot, like any person really. I don’t like being tied down by poverty, and I abhor being bored.
Of course, juggling labor-heavy jobs such as crew-work and teaching will take its toll on the body. I hate getting sick, and I should be taking my vitamins more diligently. Even when that doesn’t work, I can only hope to stave off the flu with home remedy I picked off a talk show during college. It’s what I like to call the anti-flu marinade.
Anti-Flu Marinade
Ingredients:
(1/2) Cup Rock Salt
(1) Lemon wedge (can be replaced with 2-4 calamansis)
(1) Tablespoon of olive oil
Preparation:
Pour the rock salt into a small bowl, then mix in the olive oil. Squeeze in the lemon or calamansi.
How to use:
Scrub down with this mixture in a hot shower or bath. Rinse off.
You’ll feel refreshed right after. In my experience, if you do this during early symptoms of the flu (low fever, slight sniffles) it’s sometimes enough to keep it away.
So that’s what I’m doing now for a speedy recovery for the flu. I have tech week, bills to pay, and I need to be in tip-top shape!
Part of the 30 Day Writing Meme. Next is Day 7: A photo that makes you happy.
The Aftermath
I’ve only been 26 for four months, but I feel like I’ve turned 40. That’s what seeing your cancer-ridden Mom does, God rest her soul.
It really was my Mom’s time. It only made sense on the day she passed, when she showed us the last page of the book she read, when her best friend told us the significance of her death date (August 8, a date she obsessed over since my sister was born). It was only then I understood that there are no coincidences. As someone who has wandered in and out of faith, it was only this instance that had me fully realize God’s design.
I understand why Mom had to go, even with her unfinished business. I understand why it happened so fast: a mere six months, starting from non-threatening leukemia that suddenly led to a malignant meioma turned uterine cancer. Even in grief, I could count the steps to her illness in the cups of coffee, the long work hours, and the superhuman adrenaline of single-handedly raising two girls. Mom was stubborn, and she learned all she could in this existence.
People ask me how I am. I never know how to answer that in this stage. I’ve had better years. I know we’ll be ok. But damn, I am scared. I can’t even keep up with my phone bill, what more a household? I don’t even know where to begin.
Are you there, God?
It has been sweltering in the Philippines. I thought it was just an unusually hot summer, up until I found myself near faint in the heat in my own apartment. I headed out to seek refuge in an air-con mall, something I rarely do, but when that got out old I decided to brave the heat and bug a friend in Cubao.
I had to take the train, which was thankfully roomy, but once I stepped onto the platform I felt like I was on the verge of melting. And I was so damn thirsty.
I ducked into a 7-11, where I realized that I probably died sometime ago–
it was the one 7-11, green and orange stripes and all, which didn’t have a slurpee machine.
It’s official. I died at some point and was sent straight to hell.
[Writing Meme] Day 4: Your Favorite Book
I was a funny kid. I was more enamored by a list of banned books than I was by any best seller or recommended library list. Harriet the Spy caught my eye on a list of banned books in one of those almanacs. I was intrigued about the story of the spunky young kid who writes notes about other people. My first writing workshop with Teacher Maya Jacinto used an excerpt from Harriet as an example for worldbuilding, and a few months later I managed to find a copy from a boutique bookstore.
I had this vague notion of wanting to be a writer, and I automatically took to anything that talked about writing. I was eleven years old at the time and didn’t really understand the emotional range and complications Harriet went through, even though we were about the same age. I realized later that I probably saw myself through Harriet: the awkward kid who wrote a lot and were open to a lot of things my peers weren’t open to. At the time I started reading Harrier the Spy I really was growing up, and growing out from my colleagues. My elementary school was one of those most students stayed in from kindergarten through grade 7. I got the feeling, though I couldn’t quite put it to words at the time, that change was not something my peers were open to. I didn’t feel free to try new things, and in the few times I did I wasn’t prepared for the ridicule and criticism that followed.
It took a few reads for me to get Harriet, and a few more years before I really understood how much the book taught me. To this day I read the book when I feel that I’m in an awkward place, or when I’m about to come face-to-face with dangerous, beautiful truth.
Part of the 30 Day Writing Meme. Next is Day 5: Your Favorite Quote.
A Scene from a Cot
My mother’s been in the hospital for the last few days to monitor her anemia. It’s nothing too serious, as she still has enough strength to nag me about the little things. On her second day she asked me to look for her flash disc – “it’s somewhere among the sheets!”
When people tell me to tell my Mom to relax, I always retorted that I’m better off beating climate change or achieving world peace.
Mom and I shared the cot so we could watch the Oscars in the room’s teensy-weensy TV. The Doctor checks up on her and is touched at the sight: a woman in her fifties with her young adult daughter.
“Two years ago,” he recalled. “My mother was confined to this very room in a coma. I stayed by her side – and you can see, I’m quite old. What a sight that was! You’re lucky to have such a devoted daughter who’ll one day look after you that way.”
Mother smiles. “We get a better view of the TV from here eh.”