Teeth Part 2

I went to the dentist again last Sunday. That was the 18th of January. I still had three more teeth to be fixed all of which were prime candidates for root canals as the doctor had informed me. I was hoping that at least one of them could be fixed with just filling but the doctor wasn’t very optimistic. She never was. I hate it when she goes “tsk, tsk, tsk” as she shakes her head while operating on me. It sounds as if I was just about to lose all my teeth or die.

I was hoping she could start on the teeth on my right because one of them already felt like it was going to crack if I bit really hard on it. Instead, she started drilling on the tooth on my left. She said she wanted to see if it could be saved, if the nerve hadn’t been exposed yet. What could I do? She was the doctor and I was a mere patient.

The weird thing about that day was she had this apprentice or something hovering above me while she did her thing. She was a nice looking young lady in the clinic’s trademark green scrubs. She was assisting – a new dentist apparently – said my doctor. I was tapping my fingers the entire time. It’s awkward enough having a person look into your mouth while you’re lying on a chair helpless, what more having two? The girl would peer into my mouth once in a while to see what my dentist was doing. Sometimes, my dentist would point out something to her and then she would sort of nod her head in affirmation. She would also pull on that thing that sucks saliva if the dentist was having trouble manipulating her drill in my mouth or if she had trouble reaching the far end of the tooth.

So she proceeded drilling and drilling and drilling into the tooth, avoiding sensitive painful areas. I have to admit that she’s pretty good, always easy on the gas but quick on the brakes. This also meant she was very slow. In fact, I fell asleep for bit while she was busy with the tooth. It lasted two hours for heaven's sake. It's a good thing that they have one of those rubber things that they wedge into your teeth so that you don't get tired keeping it open.

Finally, having drilled away about half my tooth she pronounced that it could not be saved by mere fillings alone and required a root canal. Of course, at that point I had no choice but to agree because she’d already drilled that far down. A root canal costs 8,000 pesos a tooth and I wanted to find another dentist or clinic that charged at least 2000 bucks less. Unfortunately, that time I was pretty much caught in a bind. So there began my three-week love affair with the root canal. It’s going to take another two weeks until the tooth can finally be filled in with permanent pasta.

She began by introducing some topical anaesthesia around the tooth and injected some local anaesthesia. She drilled away some more until the nerve was fully exposed. Midway she had to inject another dose of anaesthesia because it was still all too painful to bear. She injected the dose directly into the nerve. It was an extremely painful procedure, which, to my delight, ended rather quickly since the anaesthesia was quite fast acting. We had discussed during the course of the drilling that once the nerve had been fully exposed, she would be depositing some medicine that would kill the nerve and that this medicine would be rather painful, once applied and so on after the operation.

I did not know the meaning of pain until the night after that appointment. I was practically debilitated on the couch even after having downed 500 mg of Ibuprofen. I sat with my face down on the sofa and its many pillows, still in the clothes I had worn to the clinic, trying to wish away all the pain. I woke up the following morning still in the same clothes with a feeling that everything had been just a nightmare. But moving my tongue around in my mouth, I found a patch of rather rough temporary past on the tooth which had cause me so much pain the night before. It wasn’t just a dream after all.

Joala and me at our double date. She wasn't my date but her friend who I have to say is soooper sexy. Too bad I don't have a picture of her. I hope I do get to go out with her again.

I love black. It is a colour all too often associated with death and dying. With the putrid decay of matter. Or with the void and nothingness. But I believe it is serene, as is pure white. It is vast in that it is the colour of space. But at the same time it is small in that it marks edges and curves. Much like how it emphasizes the sides and sinews of a woman's body hugged by a flowing black dress. Black is the colour of the night. Without it there would be no moon and there would be no stars. As without evil and temptation, there would be no good. Black is the color of the shadows. It is cool in the middle of a hot summer's day. A fading shelter from light. Blackness creates mystery. It shies away the truth only for us to uncover. Black is the ground on which everything stands without which there would be no colours. It is the colour against which whiteness and purity is defined. And as black is nothing, against it everything else is defined.


This is me in black

For Czarra

Dear Angel,

I promised I would not cry when you finally walked away. I promised I would not shed one tear. I promised I would be strong, that I would not tremble nor whimper. And I promised that I would let you go.

I have kept that promise, Angel. I have honored my word. Not one tear has been shed. I have let out no sob, no whimper. I have remained strong. I have not trembled. Neither have I shook nor shivered. And I have let you go.

But now that I have kept my promise, my heart is broken. Holding back my tears has squeezed it of its life. My restraint has robbed it of its beat. And letting you go has shattered it.

ANGEL
LETTERS TO ANGEL

My heart beats heavily in silent frustration.

I am a traitor and a con, my lord. Greed and desire are the fuel of my passion. And lust the fire of my needs. Long have I hungered for the world and my thirst it seems cannot be slaked. I have lived the life that in my mind I have fought so much against and I have turned my back on what I have for so long stood. I have deceived myself and much of that around me.

But now that I have bared my soul, I know not what to do nor where to go. No longer do I know who I am or for what I stand and live. I have this weight on my shoulders and it is slowly breaking me. It is crushing me. I deserve as much because such is the price of having betrayed myself. But it is all too painful to bear, too complicated to understand and too difficult to accept. My mind is just about to explode because of the torment.

My lord, is it a sin to be burdened so by the pleasures that creep up and into my head? These hands, were they not made to take this world and build it, mould it as I deem fit? And these eyes, were they not created to gleam upon the very earth which you have fashioned?

Green eyes I have, my lord. The green eyes of envy and jealousy. Such is my burden and such is my sin.

Take me away. Take me away now. Take me far away to where my sins cannot follow. To where there is no temptation. To where there is no flesh for which to hunger, no blood nor wine for which to thirst . To a place of pristine white. To a place where my darkness will be swallowed.

here you go elainey!!! ang kulit mo kasi eh!! :P



and this is my cute cute niece, Kyla. :)

One Saturday


I went out last Saturday with this girl with whom I had recently been acquainted. I know this is such a cliché, but we'd decided to meet up at Starbucks Greenbelt for lack of any other ideas. In the end this would prove to be quite a good decision since we had no other plans for the day and the ambience was quite conducive to what would be a 4-hour conversation. We agreed to meet at three in the afternoon. I’d just thought up this time for no particular reason except with the weather in mind. I also thought that, in the event that the day didn’t go as smoothly as planned, the time would make a great excuse to escape.

I’d calculated exactly the amount of time it would take for me to walk from work to Greenbelt such that I would be there about 5 to 10 minutes before 3 PM. I thought she’d be there just in time since she gave me this impression of punctuality. But in fact she was 10 minutes late. Not that this really matters but that it’s just something to mention.

This date was something I had anticipated for quite a few days already. A few days before, she’d told me that I’d given her the impression that I was intellectual, sensitive (riiight!) and quite full of myself. That last one bore down heavily on me. While I knew in some twisted way she had a point, I could not accept it. However, this day was a day of reckoning. She said that our date would either confirm or refute these impressions. She did admit that she was primed, or should I say biased, because she had read my friends’ testimonials on Friendster. Ah, the wonders of technology.

(I am pretty sure that at this point, half of those who actually read this article have all been bored to death. And the other half would be dying in suspense or irritated by my dilly-dallying.)

So at 10 minutes past three, she sauntered along with a big smile, obviously apologetic of her tardiness. She had a classy sophisticated look to her - a mature kind of sophistication. Her gait suggested that she was wearing heels, and in fact she was. She did mention that she loved stilettos although she didn’t wear them that day. However, her clothes didn’t do her much justice. I didn’t like her shirt’s tutti-frutti floral design. While she also mentioned how much she liked Levi’s, her jeans didn’t do justice to her figure either. I also have this thing about girls not wearing belts. Nevertheless, she looked good.

She was, without a doubt, probably the most fidgety date I have ever had. She was uncomfortable, she admitted. It seemed such an understatement. We had to move tables because she couldn’t lean back on the sofa chair and that made her all the more uncomfortable. I was afraid she was going to hurt someone with her arms flailing around in large gestures.

One way or another, she seemed determined at keeping her poise. Though several times she looked liked she was just about to crash and burn. But it was all very amusing to me. I might have thought it was cute even. Her paranoia was getting to her. I was well aware beforehand that she had a predisposition to being overly self-consciousness but not to this extent.

I’d offered to buy her a drink but she gracefully declined, saying she’d rather get her own. I left her at the table thinking that that’d be ample time for her to straighten herself out. She seemed oddly out of place that time, lost even.

She spoke rather fluently, something that I find really attractive in a woman. Although she did have her slips, due mostly to her nervousness but these were all just something to laugh at or about. I admired the fact that she took to my laughter rather positively. She was such a good sport.

Most of the time we talked about her - her life’s mysteries, her quirky misadventures with men, etcetera, etcetera. This was perfectly fine with me because I was mostly interested in learning more about her. Besides, if she wanted to know something about me, all she had to do was ask.

Already she was getting more and more at ease.

It was funny how in the middle of our conversation she would interject with some words I couldn’t understand like “keber” and “chuvanescence”. Gay lingo, apparently. At first I thought “keber” was some pidgin or ghetto way of saying carebear.

She had graduated from a low-end school (forgive my prejudice) in Makati, something which came as quite a surprise because I would not have guessed it by looking at and talking to her. She talked with a flair and intelligence that would’ve suggested something more prestigious. And she also seemed all too introspective or internally cognizant as she so succinctly put it to have graduated from some IT related course. To say the least, I was pleased.

So we talked and talked and talked for what seemed to be four hours but was in fact just a little over three until we find that it was already past six and I had other engagements to attend. It was in a way a good date if not a great one. We went our separate ways in a more or less positive light. We knew each other a little better. If there was another date to follow, I would soon find out. And so we walked. And then we parted.

Teeth

I made an appointment with the dentist a couple of weeks ago.
I swore that I would have everything straightened out within a month.
Yesterday was the day to be reckoned with. Apparently I had 4 teeth that had
to be removed, one at the back on the upper left that was biting into my gums
because it had no opposing tooth definitely had to go. A molar that had long
been giving me problems also had to go. This was just one tooth away from
the one previously mentioned. I also had two teeth, one on the left and the
other on the right, on my lower jaw that were sticking out due to lack of space
and thus definitely are candidates for removal.

Thinking that I should have everything over and done with in one fell swoop, or in
two or three, I had one tooth on the lower left filled in and two teeth on the upper
left removed. Needless to say, the filling process was the most harrowing experience of
them all. It wasn't that painful simply because the dentist was very precise and for
that I thank her very much. It was the anticipation of pain that killed me together
with the shrill hissing whirring sound of the drill. And the sheer awkwardness of
a woman looking inside my mouth and the painfully uncomfortable chair.

After the first one, she kindly asked if I could take another round. All I could say
was, "no more." Then it was off to the removal of the two teeth.

A few dabs of topical anaesthesia here and there then came several injections all around
the teeth. It was a weird yet interesting experience. There was no pain, no feeling
at all. At one point I started tapping my fingers in impatience. I vividly recall the dentist
kept shaking her head because it was so difficult and I had asked her twice if she
was already done.

It was a painless procedure but I soon learned that topical anaesthesia has its limits.
Dricing home was torture. And I was writhing in pain at home. It wasn't exactly my gums
that were painful but the areas where the dentist had penetrated my skin for
the injection.

Now, there are two gaping holes in my jaw and the ever present bitter taste of iron
from blood in my mouth. Once in a while I feel queasy because of the taste and bloated.
And just a few hours ago I was close to regurgitating all the blood that I'd swallowed
the day before.

I would've liked to take pictures of my teeth but I thought it'd be overly gross. But I did take
pictures of the money I spent to pay for the operation. It is money well spent anyway
And the company's reimbursing me for it.

ALAN ROBLES

Four months from now, millions of Filipinos will be taking a nationwide IQ test. It looks like they are going to fail. The test is the presidential election, scheduled for May 10. The problem it poses each voter is this: how will you choose your president and vice-president? Already, it is possible to get an idea of what the answer will be simply by looking at the list of candidates. The leading contenders are an action movie star and two television news presenters, none of whom has any provable political skills or perceivable intellectual depth.

If the opinion polls are any judge, all the public seems to care about is a candidate's popularity, no matter how shallow that person might be. Heavily favoured Fernando Poe Jr., the action film star, announced his candidacy without declaring what he stands for or what he proposes to do if elected. He has still said nothing, and his handlers have carefully kept him away from the media.

His running mate, news presenter and senator Loren Legarda, had desperately shopped around for a party - any party - that would take her. Now, as Poe's partner, she has as her confederates a motley group of candidates who include unrepentant cronies of the deceased dictator Ferdinand Marcos and the son of disgraced former president Joseph Estrada. Judging from her wide grin, Senator Legarda is not in the least bothered about being in bed politically with such dubious characters.

Another television presenter, Senator Noli de Castro, has wound up as the vice-presidential candidate paired with President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Senator de Castro, who also shopped around for a party, has not given any clue what he will do if he gets the job.

Yet for all their crass opportunism, entertainment and television personalities consistently top the surveys. Blame it on Filipinos' toxic love affair with popularity. In 1998, in the face of reports that he was an incompetent drunkard, gambler and womaniser, former movie star Estrada was overwhelmingly voted into the presidency. Three years later he is on trial for graft and plunder.

One reason why entertainers are so popular is that they are the faces Filipinos get exposed to most often. In a country where more than 90 per cent of households have televisions, a daily presence on the screen can pay tremendous political dividends. Another reason is that traditional politicians, or "trapos", are usually little better. What the voters have yet to realise is that neither trapos nor entertainers have any goals beyond acquiring the perks and powers of office. No candidate has presented any idea of how to address the country's basic problem: that it is a corrupt nation run largely by and for a small oligarchy. It is a problem that needs social and cultural changes not in the interests of the elite, and beyond the attention span of telegenic candidates. If Filipinos fail their national IQ test this May, it will be because the whole thing has been rigged from the start.

And I say: AYE!

What's Frightening About FPJ?


It's not so much his lack of education that is frightening about Fernando Poe, Jr. becoming President, although this in itself should raise enough alarm bells. It's his lack of political savvy.

In the beginning, he flatly refused to run. Then he wavered and became elusive. Later the hints were thrown here and there. Finally he made the announcement of his intention to run. The decision to run was a result of constant pressure placed upon him by the likes of Sens. Tito Sotto and Ed Angara, both whose power-lust is no secret.

What does this say about the "Da King"? He has no personal will. In becoming President, he most certainly won't have any political will. To say that he will be used is an understatement. The governement will be up for grabs among Sotto, Angara and ...

Loren Legarda. Bolting from the administration party to declare herself an independent, she announced unabashedly she was available to be the runningmate of FPJ. She tried to cloak her ambition behind nationalistic gobbledygook, but utterly failed. Being a popular figure, she was indeed drafted in by Sotto and company to be FPJ's veep.

Before this she openly visited Joseph Estrada in his detention cell, perhaps to get his endorsement, which she naturally denied. Video tapes where then re-run showing how she wept in the Senate after Aquilino Pimentel resigned as Senate President during the emotionally-charged impeachment trial of Estrada. Legarda then was in the side of the prosecution. Apparently politics not only makes strange but sleazy bedfellows.

So, is it safe to believe Sotto, Angara and Legarda would always have a consensus of governance if ever Poe and Legarda are elected? Fat chance! The Philippines would just be one huge pie with 3 large slices and several minor ones.

And what will happen to Da King? Unlike his movies, he'll be left stunned, lost and powerless to do anything. Along with every Filipino.

Above courtesy of the creator of PHILIBLOGS


And my response:

If he does win and, from the looks of things, it is very likely he will, what scares me even more is the imminent realization that the Filipino masses have all but succumbed to stupidity. Stupidity, not in the sense that FPJ is a bad candidate because for all we know he might be the best of us, but in how we as a nation have fallen once again into a trap we ourselves set, how we have been so gullible and predictable that we accept what is clearly debauchery in our faces. So, once more we are the laughing stock of the world. Hope now wanders off beyond my grasp and slowly ebbs away. What ever happened to the so-called Filipino pride?

Have we not had enough of this foolishness? Have we not learned out lesson? How many EDSA revolutions does it take before the mistakes of the past are truly and deeply ingrained in our heads? May 10 will be a dark day for all of us.

There is no pride in this, there is no honor.

this is me, at the Aarhus GOH warehouse



and here just on the way to Aarhus, pretending to study...notice the white fields out the window



and this is me demonstrating the appropriate manner of eating a sandwich on the floor..

Girl with great abs and a great tatoo...great smile too... :)

The Punta Fuego Gang



Joala, Resti, Frances and quite a cheeky me



Since Carol couldn't make it to lunch....



And the rest of the gang..

Frances, me, Resti, EG, Arn, Sonny and Princess

Aarhus...courtesy of Daniel Bastian Tanjung.

that's me...on a straddle carrier in Aarhus...can you see the Michelin Man?



some bowling shoes...i won 6 shots of "gray"..i think it was some turkish stuff...for hitting a strike while the Danish announcer guy was at our lane..



Gangstazzz....

moi et ma soeur, Joann

You've probably already read this somewhere, but it is funny.

"A burglar broke into a house one night. He shone his flashlight
around, looking for valuables, and when he picked up a CD player to
place in his sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark
saying, "Jesus is watching you."

He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight out, and
froze. When he heard nothing more after a bit, he shook his head,
promised himself a vacation after the next big score, then clicked the light
on and began searching for more valuables. Just as he pulled the
stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he
heard, "Jesus is watching you."

Freaked out, he shone his light around frantically looking for the
source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his
flashlight beam came to rest on a parrot. "Did you say that?"
He hissed at the parrot. "Yep," the parrot confessed, then squawked,
"I'm just trying to warn you."

The burglar relaxed. "Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?"
"Moses," replied the bird. "Moses?", the burglar laughed. "What
kind of people would name a bird Moses?

"The kind of people that would name a Rottweiler, Jesus." "

I just remembered a funny thing that occurred involving my soon to be 3 years old nephew, Drake, and porno santa. We asked him, pointing at porno santa's rather rosy cheeks, what those were and he said "dodo". Say what?! We emphasized that those were santa's cheeks but he stated quite matter-of-factly, "hindi, dodo yan!"

Hilarious.

Hey hey hey...new pics



a couple of pairs of just about the cheapest decent albeit fake shoes you can find. 600 pesos or just about 11 USD each. cool...bought two coz they were so cheap and i couldn't decide if i should get the white or the gray ones...



a great shot of the view from the 51st floor. oddly enough, this was taken from the bathroom. while you may not be able to see it, right next to the window is the toilet. just about a voyeur's biggest dream

Leah, Apple and me in megamall

me and my nephew, drake, on new year's day. wearing a red tie for good luck.



me and porno santa. he's porno santa because of those...uhmm...go figure. I borrowed him from our module center in Karlslunde, Denmark...haha



me and porno santa again.

and that's me playing with a 3650.

Well, a belated Happy New Year to everybody. Here're a couple of funny text messages I got on New Year's.

May you have the Wisdon of Solomon
the Commitment of Jacob
the Courage of Joshua
the Dreamer Spirit of Joseph
the Faitfulness of David and
the Penis of Goliath

I am thinking of running for president. If you support my cause,
join the noise barrage tonight between 11 pm and 1 am. If the
whole nation unites, I will run!