Unorthodox Women

Unorthodox adj. Independent in behavior and thought

Breaking with tradition or convention

The gospel was one of my favorites, even in Theology Class. It talks about the genealogy of Jesus and how flawed it was. And roughly around a year ago, we discussed this particular passage in Theology Class. In Theology, we did not only discuss the flaws of His lineage but the women remarkable enough to be mentioned in the line of men.

These four women, Tamar, Ruth, the wife of Uriah and Mary, four women who, even in a patriarchal society, earned their own place in history.

I don’t want to make wild claims and compare this simple woman from a rural provincial town to the likes of those four women. But if there is one resemblance I would like to cite and highlight it would be something that most other women would not even admit.

Like those four women, I, too, am flawed.

Trying to stand out in a sea of faces.

Physically, I have a flat nose, morena skin, bushy eyebrows and hardheaded acne. I’m also chubby. I stand 5’7” so that makes me a really big woman. A friend from UP once commented this on my friendster account: Wag niyo siyang babanggain, dahil isa siyang malaking babae. — Definitely not what our culture would define as pretty.

I also have terrible mood swings and a temper that can almost burn steel.

I am a shopaholic, I have mediocre grades, I’m a little sloppy, especially around exam week.

I am not domesticated. I kick dogs for fun. I am terribly afraid of cats. I can be very rude when I want to and with a little tinge (okay maybe a lot) of naughtiness.

Yes, I am flawed. And it is not something I am ashamed of.

Maybe that is why I love hearing or reading that passage. Because of all characters in the Bible, I can definitely relate to them.

I am also lucky enough to surround myself with women achievers. My bestfriend since I can remember recently earned her PhD degree. My bestfriend from college, won the Bb. Lex title last year and is on her way to being a lawyer. And I, well, am trying to live outside the box and be a doctor in a male-dominated specialty. We refuse to be defined by our sexes and try to achieve more that what biology destined us to do.

Our Parish Priest commented a couple of years ago that it would take a real man to tame the woman named Noah. I would beg to disagree. He doesn’t have to tame me, he just needs to keep up.

CBCP YEAR OF THE YOUTH Launch

It was only a few weeks ago when I found out that this Liturgucal Year has been proclaimed by the CBCP as the National Year of the Youth. So without wasting any more time, we dived in and started making plans on how to raise money to fund our year. Our half-baked idea of building a small bamboo Christmas tree (which personally, I think will be a nuisance wherever we would try to put it) was upgraded to a 30-foot all-steel outdoor Christmas tree, with a kick-ass solicitation letter to match.

There were whispers of intrigues shrouding our fundraiser that almost made my co-leader shut the project down. But who would dare scorn a woman such as myself to make me want to scrap a wonderful idea all together? After much pep talk and a few chosen spicy comments thrown at strategic times, our tree stood up beyond our expectations. True to the theme of the YOTY, that standing firm in what you believe in and keeping that love in all the things you do will truly bring one to astonishing heights.

So last Dec 15, we formally launched the CBCP Year of the Youth and lighted up our Tree of Thanksgiving. The tree, donned with locally made parols and with lights pointing up to the sky, keeps all of us looking up to our ambitions and aspirations beyond the stars. The three spotlights that give the tree a yellow glow signifies that this year, the spotlight is on us -- the Parish Youth.

Remember... we are never too young to come as one to make a stand.

Five Years

Hold on little girl...
Show me what he's done to you
Stand up little girl...
A broken heart can't be that bad
When it's through, it's through
Fate will twist the both of you

I never wished ill tidings for the people who wronged me in the past. I am a firm believer of the cosmic rule on karma as well as the Golden Rule. I also believe in the law of averages. Especially now, more than ever.

As most of my friends know, five years ago, I went on a downhill spiral. Those were the days when I would find myself hanging around the Sunken Garden from late afternoon to early evening. Trying desperately to find direction. During those times, with my DLRC friends, slowly, I learned to get up again and starting with tiny baby steps, I learned to move on.

Now, I'm walking with big strides, and even strutting at times, I was forced to stop for a while, and look at what I've left.

It's true that sometimes, karma does bites us in the ass. Which reminded me of one particular night in Sunken, "my boys" and I were singing acoustic -- we love singing -- and I think we sang this song. It was supposed to mean something then... but it means a lot now.

The stanzas of the song pretty much said it.

About A Teacher

There was once a teacher, she was relatively new, it was her first year of teaching and she found out that a student cheated on one of her exams. She came walking into the classroom with a very disappointed face and a stack of bluebooks in her arms.

"Class, I found out that one of you have been cheating. Please do not do that again."

I felt pity for her. Maybe because she looked so young and naive. But then she continued talking, which basically turned me off.

"Sa tingin niyo hindi ko malalaman? Kaya nga ako ang teacher niyo eh, kasi mas matalino ako sa inyo."

Now THAT is uncalled for. I don't think she should have said that to a roomful of UP students who may not be as good as her in the subject that she was teaching but they're probably better than her in a lot of other things.

I used to really like her, but after that remark, I sort of changed my mind.

NOT THAT I ENCOURAGE CHEATING -- I DON'T. Just so we're clear: Cheating is bad. Cheaters go to hell. Okay?

I found that remark a little insulting. Okay so maybe it struck a chord and hurt my pride. But still she shouldn't have said that.

Recently, I heard she got herself in some sort of shameful mess. At least, shameful for a teacher.

And upon checking, my friends in that class are doing relatively fine. And just so we're clear again, we weren't the ones who cheated.

So, allow me to gloat. From one of the members of THAT class who she easily judged as intellectually less than her, who's smarter now?

Spot the Difference

I blame High School Musical for the rise to fame of these jumpshots. But as we love joining the bandwagon, we did our first jumpshot three years ago, the morning after my 25th birthday. Our not-yet-landscaped lawn and relatively smaller bakeshop can be observed in the background.

Three years later, we decided to re-create than jumpshot. It is noticeable, aside from the additional pounds, that the background has changed a lot, too. And we had to spread out. Hahaha!

Eat. Pray. Love.

Yesterday, I went on a date with one of my BFFs, Abby.

We were supposed to have lunch in LB but I thought maybe we could go bit further. So we ended up watching a movie at ATC. We discovered that going on a movie date is fun -- especially if you arrive before 12 noon.

We discovered that ATC (and probably other malls too) are packed with middle-aged to retirement age people at this time. Making it less rowdy and very ambient for relaxing. But as we both have appointments elsewhere by 4 pm, we just had a quick junk food lunch while watching Eat Pray Love -- which we both liked so much.

I 'grew up' in the other side of Metro Manila -- that being Quezon City. Which translates to me almost never go to ATC before, despite it being an hour's drive away. I would rather go to SM North EDSA (currently the biggest mall in the Philippines -- no, it's not the Mall of Asia) or quite recently, TriNoMa (the name still sounds like a disease). It's only recently that I have explored the 'nearer' options -- Festival Mall, MOA and ATC, since my North EDSA is so out of the way.

But as I have been relocated from UP Naming Mahal to an obscure corner of Manila, I knew I had to keep my mall options open -- being a mall brat and all. And this sembreak is all about exploring.

Abby and I both have our mornings free -- yes the same time those senior citizen would drop by the malls. And no, we are not complaining. And inspired by the movie, we promised to go on adventures alone -- or together alone. Does that make sense?

Our first stop will be Singapore in the summer.

Our next stop for this sem break is a gastronomic adventure at Nuvali. Crisostomo, here we come!!

In Love with Love

Many years ago, a friend and dormmate from college introduced me to the idea of "being in love with being in love". I told him of my unreciprocated feelings for a high school classmate and how I was still hurting at that time. He told me that I'm not really in love with him. I was in love with the idea that I was in love with him. And after much thought, I agreed with him. After I have let go of the idea, I was able to love again, and that time, my feelings were returned. Though that relationship didn't last, at least at that point, I can confidently say I was in love with a person, and not with an idea.

A few weeks ago, my otherwise peaceful relationship with my current was ruffled and rocked to the core.

I had a late-night conversation with an old acquaintance and she disclosed a not-so-secret news that made me think about many, many things.

She asked me about a certain boy and if we were a couple at some point in the past.

I told her, no, we were never a couple. We did go out a few times. I got to meet his parents. He got to meet mine. But that's just about it. And I told her that even then, I never thought he entertained the idea that we would ever be an item.

She told me I was wrong.

He was open to that idea. But he waited to fall in love with me. And he did fall in love, but not with me. So the idea was scrapped and we went into the 'friend zone'. That is where we are until now.

Until now.

After that conversation, I began to think about the things that happened since then. I had sleepless nights and blank moments. I kept thinking about us over and over. I was having second thoughts on my relationship with my boyfriend when it hit me. I remembered that conversation that I had with my dormmate more than a decade ago.

"You're not in love with him, Noah. You are just in love with being in love with him."

Then I thought, yes. That is precisely what is happening. Because I love the fact that if we did become an item, we would have a wonderful love story. We will both be doctors. We even have the same taste in many things. It would indeed be a nice story. But that's just that. A story. Nothing more.

Two weeks later and back to reality. I decided to channel all my attention to the boy who I know loves me, even if he has very conservative ways of showing it. And after my doubts in our relationship, I also realized that it strengthened it even more. That despite our many differences in personality and ways, we are still very much in love, not with an idea, but with each other.

photos credits: deviantart.com and desicomments.com

Dear Universe Wish List

Dear Universe,

I holler onto you now. This is my Christmas wishlist. I don't really care if they come as gifts or you give me the financial capability to buy it, as long as they come. The last time I hollered, you didn't give everything but you gave me more.

Thank you for the Master Cardio instead of the Master Classic.

Thank you for the boyfriend instead of just the Rose Quartz.

Thank you for many bags, instead of just one.

Thank you for the LOTR set. Loved it.

You didn't give me the Ipaq leather case but you gave me new phones.

Thanks for the running shoes. Ayoko na ng Nike. Madaling masira.

So this year, these are the stuff I want to have. Walang deadline. Hindi nagmamadali.

1. Nyx Goddess Make-up Box.

I have golden morena skin. And as most people don't know, I am also a closet kikay. So yes. I love make-up. And I want that box.

2. CL Privatita in Black.

This one's pretty expensive. I shall not say more. (sigh)

3. Nikon D90

I've been wanting to buy this for months now. Or years. Please find your way to me.

4. Toric Contact Lenses

Not that I hate my glasses, but I sometimes want to show-off my nice eyes. My mom said they're beautiful, but she's my mom. I think they're pretty. And I sometimes, I want the world to see them without my glasses in the way.

5. New Eyeglasses

I think I need to adjust the grades of my glasses as well as its astigmatism. And I want new bronze titanium frames. Not necessarily Prada. :)

A Rainy Weekend and a Pile of Transcripts

It's what we would call "the calm after the storm". Meaning, the peaceful transition between classes to exam week. Unlike what i used to do last year, I decided to head south and study here in Mom's house this weekend. I don't know if it's a very wise decision as until now, all I do is sleep whenever I get my hands on one of our insanely big medical books.

It is now that I realize the reason why I would keep the computer open all night while studying. Because only fifteen minutes into reading, my eyelids would drop and I'm off to Neverland once again.

I forced myself out of my mom's super comfortable bed and back into my bodega of a room. Actually, my bed's more comfortable but as my room has turned into some sort of storage place, half of it is full of knick knacks and what-have-yous.

With close to ten chapters to read for Pharmacology as well as another four in Pathology, I can't really afford to lose any more precious awake time. So instead of camping in Mom's bedroom, I'm camping here in mine instead. See you all after the exams!! :)

Somewhere In The Middle

Two weeks ago, Mom called me to tell me that my Lola was rushed to the hospital following what they thought was a heart attack. It was night fall then and I just arrived from an afternoon in Gateway, as it was one of my free days. She told me that she'll be fetching me on her way to the hospital in a while.

Mom swung by a little close to midnight and we made our way to UST Hospital. I was feeling the nasty effects of a virus I caught somewhere and the cold airconditioning of the hospital did not help. We met all but one of my dad's siblings there and we learned that Lola was moved to the ICU for better management. Unfortunately, the ICU was already closed when we arrived.

But maybe out of some stroke of luck, Mom and I was able to go in the ICU even for a few minutes. When Lola saw Mom, she asked for me. But the virus I was hosting kept me from going in her room, so I contented myself by just waving at her from her window.

Though clearly labored, that was the last time I saw my Lola breathing. Around lunchtime the next day, my dad's sister called to tell us that Lola passed away around noon. Mom cried. I buried myself in the comforters were I was sleeping. I felt a mixture of sadness and relief. Sad, because she's gone, and relief because she is finally resting, and all the pain she's been feeling for the last weeks, are already gone.

Mom decided that we would go to her wake after Dad's arrival the next day. So we did. At first I could not bring myself to step inside her house and see her laying there. A cousin had to usher me in. I didn't look at her for long. She looked good, younger by twenty years, but I don't want to remember her that way. I want to remember her as my grey-haired Lola, sitting on her rocking chair with a big fan and twinkling eyes that light up every time I visit.

I wasn't her favorite granddaughter. And we don't really know each other well up until several years ago, when she started to become sickly and there were times that I would spend the night in her hospital room. Stuck with each other and nothing to do, we would talk and talk and tell stories. She would tell me about her youth, about how she helped her parents by selling hot coffee early in the morning. She would show me her wrinkled hands with pride. They're not really beautiful, she would say, but those hands were the hands that rocked my Dad's, and his five other sibling's, cradle. They might as well have cradled mine.

As one of her grandkids, I don't hold much distinction. As mentioned earlier, I wasn't her favorite, nor was I the prettiest. I didn't spend majority of my childhood with her. It was only in the last decade that we got to know each other better.

The whole period of her wake, I didn't cry much for there really wasn't anything to cry about. Because I know that she was ready and she lived a full life. When we were on our way to lay her to rest and we passed by their old house, where she and Lolo raised their six children, that was the time when I started crying. That was when realization started to kick in, and memories of my childhood started flooding in.

Never will I see her again behind the displays of her grocery store, nor will anybody respond everytime I visit and shout her name from the garage. I cried because I will miss her and the thought of never hearing her voice or touching her aged hands again is very sad. In the church, when the priest gave her the final blessing, I cried a little again, and looked at the family she left. Her six children, all making names for themselves despite very humble beginnings. And fourteen grandchildren, also trying to make our way in the world, reaping the fruits of her and her husband's sacrifices.

We said our sad goodbyes. But for me, it wasn't really that sad, for I know that in her 88 years, she lived a fulfilled life. And when her Creator finally called her back, she was ready. With these in mind, though I will miss her deeply, I realized that there's really nothing to be sad about.

My Six-Day Weekend To Do List

Tomorrow marks the start of SBCM's Medicine Week. And being the model student that I am, I chose to head south, here in my parents' house for some (not-so) well-deserved R and R.

For starters, I planned on going jogging with Dad. But as my very forgetful mind would will it, I (not intentionally) left my running shoes in Manila. Which leaves me to two options: Not jog AT ALL or brisk walk with my HP maryjanes -- they're comfortable anyway.

I also intend to get ahead with my reading. But seeing as I probably won't be able to read that much during the day (many, many distractions), I will have to schedule it during the night. 2-3 chapters in Robbins would suffice, and maybe a little bit more in Katzung.

Finally get to eat in Abby's kiosk in LB Square. I have a dinner date with Rochie sometime this week. That's something to look forward to.

Jilly and I made plans of meeting up in Alabang. Another thing to look forward to.

My make-up kit's been neglected for a while, so that needs cleaning up, too.

A cousin is also getting married this weekend and I haven't got a dress for it yet, so I still have to look for a decent dress.

I might also start sorting out my books from since I can remember. They've been gathering dust already.

Presently, I am reading PhD comics archive, which is keeping me awake while I once again try to complete the 200x bassdrop for an award in Night Club City.

There is also a stack of non-medical books in my couch here in my room, I might take a whack at it at some point.

Yeah... between my R and R and the things I have to do, in addition to sneaking a pan de sal or two from the bakery each morning, I probably won't be able to finish it all by Tuesday. Hahaha!

When the World is Not That Wonderful

Today is my free day. My classes were cancelled and I planned it to be just like any other free day. A trip to the salon for a bit of plucking (and waxing), relax and get lost in National Bookstore and buy a few toiletries. My bestfriend, Rochie, told me that the magazine where she is being featured, so I grabbed a copy, too.

But somewhere between my salon trip and waiting for my boyfriend for lunch, I felt a sudden attack of anxiety. I was trembling. I have no idea why. I blamed hypoglycemia so I grabbed a pack of chocochip cookies and munched on them while waiting for my boyfriend.

On the train home, I felt a little under the weather. I washed 500mg of paracetamol down my throat before going back to my chapter summaries for Pathology.

I was procrastinating with Facebook and Harry Potter while typing the first part of my chapter summaries when Mom called me with very bad news. My Lola is in the hospital and its not looking good. My Dad is already arranging to come home over the weekend.

I felt the cold rushing through my veins. My hands turned clammy. My feet was ice. My runny nose suddenly walked. Harry Potter failed to amuse me this time. More so Pathology. I don't know if its the nerves or fear or whatever, I know that I definitely cannot focus on Pathology tonight.

The prospect of losing a loved one is slowly overcoming my being. I didn't grow up under Lola's eyes but she is a doting Lola. There was a huge metropolitan and two long expressways between us. But everytime we're together, she always makes me feel like I'm her only apo. Even if there are actually more than a dozen others.

When I moved to the city to study, I got to see my Lola more often. Since I was an expressway nearer, whenever she was rushed to the hospital because of some malady, I will definitely be on duty for at least one night.

I'm going to be a doctor. I should be ready for things like these. But things are definitely a lot different when it's a loved one on the line. I am spiraling Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' five stages of grief.

I have been writing this post for an hour now. And I still can't find the right words to finish it. So I will leave it hanging... hoping... that acceptance will come soon.

I.Am.Woman.

Two weeks ago, I came upon a book in Fully Booked Gateway about the Women of the Bible, written by Ann Spangler and Jean A. Syswerda. It chronicles the life and times of each remarkable woman in the Bible, as well as her legacy and promise. As it writes about the matriarchs such as Eve, Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah, the book also took into account the other women with smaller yet not lesser roles. The likes of Abigail, the wife of King David, Miriam, Moses' sister and even the Widow with Two Coins, as told in one of Jesus' parables.

The Bible is known to be patriarchal, as the accounts described took place at the time and age when the male species dominated and women were treated like second class citizens. But despite this set-up, these women had the courage and made a name for themselves.

Fast forward to the future. Here in my time. Though the society have changed drastically and women and men are *almost* equals, one can still see the Hagars, Rahabs, Delilahs and Magdalenes walking about. The Marys, Elizabeths, and Esthers still inspiring.

Women, no matter at what time, age and era, always manage to rise above.