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Showing posts from March, 2012

Tonsillitis, my old friend

I'm not feeling well today. This bad feeling started over the weekend, when it felt like I was starting to get tonsillitis, an affliction I hadn't enjoyed since childhood. Before I was ten or so, my tonsils would be inflamed on a regular basis. It got so bad that I would know it was summer when my tonsils were besieged by the familiar fiery sharp, scraping swelling that often had me crying myself to sleep. Later, as an adult, I would find out during a company physical exam that my tonsils were "abnormally large." This solved two lifelong mysteries: why I had gotten tonsillitis a lot and why I had often had fish-bone getting stuck in my throat. The discovery also made me think of how long it had been since my tonsils were last inflamed. For some reason, as I entered my teens, tonsillitis became a stranger. Getting this painful visit now throws me back to the days I had to battle the affliction on a regular basis. My mother was my tonsillitis-fighting champion. I would

The art of eating ice candy

Last week, after maybe twenty years or so, I tried eating ice candy. It wasn't even the homemade sort; I'd bought it after lunch from a Fruitas kiosk at the Eastwood Mall. The stifling summer heat had suddenly come, and I wanted something cold and refreshing. It took a few bites before I could tear open the plastic with my teeth, much to the amusement of my friend Eric. Bite it at the sides, he told me at one point, the plastic is weaker there. I found myself thinking, now would be a great time to have a pair of scissors. This is one of the signs I've turned into an adult: something as simple as tearing open a childhood delight has turned into an elaborate process. I normally pride myself in considering, as much as a right-brained person can, the next few steps forward, but how much joy am I losing now that I can't even eat ice candy without worrying about getting my hands sticky? Eric said that when he was young his mother pointed out that the plastic containing the ic

Making the rainbow connection

So, yesterday, I felt like my heart was completely open. It was open house for all feelings, and to cut the long story short: Cheetos for dinner. It could be hormones, but I was emotional all day, tearing up at the slightest resonation. There was a time when I was young that I felt like I held all the world's pain. It took quite a while to tap into all the world's beauty and joy, but I eventually got there. Then I sealed my heart from sadness. Not really a good idea for a writer, in my opinion. But, was I emotional yesterday! I cried when I watched the Choose Philippines video I shared because I felt for my beautiful country's struggles to come into its own magnificence. I cried while reading an article about Eleanor Rigby's supposed true identity and how the first sad Beatles song got it right. I cried when I heard about a first time climber accidentally falling to her death on Mt. Batulao. I cried for the 60s, the decade I never had, when I saw on Facebook that The Mo