It's either is or neither nor.

The quiet and inner peace do not suffice the rage provoked by selfish, careless stupidity. The trial and tribulations that befall one's dignity testing strength of character, the inner struggle between right and wrong ... good and bad ... is the way things are. The end never justify the means. It's just a matter of getting there. Even where does not matter in the end. It's either is or neither nor.

In Threes ...

When it rains, it pours as the saying goes ... they come in threes ...
1. The teaspoon.
2. The contract.
3. The chlorine.

I know I asked myself if I wanted to go back to my old life (August 16, 2003).

And as I have always reminded myself - that things fall into place when you wait long enough (or rather procastinate) ... especially when you need to make a decision and you just keep on sitting on it, sleeping on it or WHATEVER!!! Eventually, fate creeps in ... it just forces you to act howevermuch you try avoiding making major decisions. Or at least, that's how it has always been for me. Somehow, things come up and kinda push me ... then it becomes a shove along the way ... and it just keeps going on and on until I take that big step, making the decision and following up on it ... And you know what, when I sometimes kinda make a decision but not quite and it's not the right one, things happen ...

Like now for instance ... first, it was the teaspoon ... then, the forgotten contract ... now, the chlorinated dogs ...

ANALYZE THAT

It's time to move on, for one. I know that BUT WHERE to, that seems to be the problem. I like it here, where I am now but as to what to do here - THAT IS the problem. If I am to stay here, at 43 - WILL I STILL BE ABLE TO ESTABLISH A CAREER AND BE SUCCESSFUL OR ... I DON'T KNOW, MAN! And so, maybe going back and forth. THE UNSPOKEN DREAM. It was afterall, sitting at the back of my mind. Iron out the rough spots, fix loopholes, give it one last try, go with the flow, start fresh and move on. On Monday, a check is appropriate in the checkbox of list of things to do - one major loophole. Another two to follow that which will take time, my significant other's. Meanwhile, as I watched the grass grow, I made up my mind that once and for all, give my dirty biz one good scrub when I get back. If all else fails, at least, I did something and maybe it would be enough for my mother to finally let go and that she gives me her blessings to move on. I know I need to go back to do this ... It doesn't mean I want to go back to my old life. I don't, I really don't. And that is why I asked myself, remember? But to stress me out with the forgotten contract!!! I am going back. I will tie loose ends, okay? I know my responsibilities and obligations. Not that I really want to face up to it ... but I WILL, OKAY? If only YOU, UP THERE CAN MAKE IT EASIER ... PLEASE ... SHOW ME A SIGN ... like how about red roses to let me know I am on the right track?

Daydreaming once again ... Nice thoughts of travelling wherever and whenever, I very much look forward to ... PALAU, MICRONESIA, MALAYSIA, THAILAND, MEXICO, CARRIBEAN, SOUTH AMERICA, AUSTRALIA, EUROPE, AFRICA AND EVEN THE PHILIPPINES ... I'm really set to semi-retire. I also decided together with my significant other to spend more time with the dogs, diminish the number of dogs we keep and find good homes for them ... show less ... spend less ...

Downsize ... a process of letting go roots in the homeland ...

UPROOT AND JUST GO ... wherever and whenever ...

Travel light, no excess baggage please ... the meaning of life.

DREAMS

THE teaSPOON TAUGHT ME A NUMBER OF THINGS: I will not do very well as a caretaker. No matter how hard I've tried nor try, my mother will not ... will never change. She is far too old. I just have to accept that. And it's even going to get worse. I also now know that what causes me unhappiness is the role that she obliges me to play. I can not really be happy if I continue to depend on another human being's own happiness. I can not forever try to please my loved ones so as to be happy myself ... I can only be happy from within.

Among other things, I can not be with my mother 24/7. I once remember her saying to me - "You can not be with someobody 24 hours day. It is not good and it is not wise. You will just hurt each other. Relationships don't work that way." And it seems, THAT too she has forgotten.

THE CONTRACT, well ... the contract. It just SIMPLY SLIPPED my head. UNIMPORTANT. But we know, contracts are important. But of course, since last year, I've been wanting to give the biz up. Of course, I agreed not to let it go precisely because of the uncertainty and ... yeah, "What will I do?", my mother asked me in retrospect ... and I succumbed.

My dogs ... I have been procastinating when I should be doing interviews and finding good homes for them. And so, one by one ... and today, eleven almost went away. It hurts, I am ... hurting soooo baaaad. Maybe, it's really time to move on.

But where?

Repentance

Everything's kinda back to normal... Mom and I are in speaking terms and so the silence is... I am also officially back to smoking. I quit for a month and a half. I also stopped walking the dogs in the morning, also stopped biking for the simple reason that I am staying up late ... ergo, waking up late so half the day is gone and I don't have to deal with my mother repeating over and over again like a broken record ... stuff. Sometimes, it's even stuff I told her that she repeats back to me forgetting that it was me who told her in the first place. Bad, bad combination... one is menopausal and the other one is losing her memory ...

It's funny how fate sometimes plays tricks on you. I hugged her before I went off to go diving last Sunday. Well, I really didn't want to go without at least hugging her cause diving has risks ... it's like I don't want to end up dead and my mother cursing me still. But she on the other hand pushed me away as I was hugging her. So, fine! I immersed myself under 54 degrees fahrenheit of cold water to cool off. Of course, we were gone for like a whole day and so as we went home very, very tired... mind you, after carrying 30lbs of weights plus tank and the very uncomfortable hood, etc, etc, etc ... We came home to a house smelling like shit. Mom was grumbling as she was mopping the floor! The three dogs pooed. Now if that doesn't break the ice, I don't know what else will. So after that, everything was back to normal and Mom had a good chuckle. She's got a wicked sense of humour, I tell you.

Now for repentance, we were very tired. I showered and as I was crawling into bed, Mom comes knocking on the door asking me to wait up for a relative who was coming over ... At 10:30 close to midnight! Hello!!! And you think it ends there? NAH! We patiently waited for them to finish eating, packed them all the leftovers in the fridge and brought them to the train station. Of course, on our way back, I was falling asleep on the wheel. As I was going up the stairs towards my bedroom, Mom comes out ... "The train stopped and asked all the passengers to go down. Poor people in a strange land. Please ... " And so, Rem and I looked at each other ... Poor people? I sure hope she was referring to us. Tsk.

Repentance.

With all the sacrifices, I passed up on my Hail Mary's and Our Father's ... God has His ways and He's got some sense of humour. Yeah, right!

THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY:

1. It's amazing, really. How I can tell the approximate time by the way the shadows are in our backyard. I've been sitting out there for quite a while now, watching the grass grow. Heehee.

FACT: ZOOM GOT BITTEN BY A BEE.

2. There's a reason why I stay out of the kitchen. Actually, not just a reason but a couple of reasons. Unless it's time to eat or like when one feels the need to invade the fridge. For one, I never really liked heat. The kitchen is the hottest place in a house ... the stove, the oven and yeah, there's radiation too. I also don't like burns especially the blisters that come along in that package. So, why would I like subject myself in situations where I can burn myself, if not the whole house down? I also stay out of the kitchen because, for one, I am on the clumsy side. I know that. And in the kitchen, there are fragile stuff like glasses, plates ... God knows how many coffee makers I have broken. I also don't like grease, hardened sauces and oil ... I am oily as it is. Now, considering all these, there's a reason why I stay away from the kitchen and I certainly did not throw the teaspoon ... I also hate doing dishes.

FACT: I DID NOT THROW THE TEASPOON IN THE TRASH CAN.

So there ...

I DID NOT THROW THE TEASPOON IN THE TRASH CAN!

i did not throw the teaspoon in the trash can.
I did not throw the teaspoon in the trash can.
I DID NOT THROW THE TEASPOON IN THE TRASH CAN.

Yours Could Be Worse!

For like 10 days, the house was pristine and not just clean.
Everything was in order, in its place and it was really quiet and quite nice.
Even the car, fresh from the wash and waxed to the max.
No clutter nor splatters, there was no mother.
One week after mother has arrived,
the clutter and splatters are back and bacteria thrives.
The walls tremble from a resounding reverberation
of screeching, nagging sometimes chuckling sound
from a roll call of calls to relatives and friends.
The neighbors are fighting in the background,
they probably think there's one over our house,
the way mother sounds.
Little do they know she's just indulging in her favorite past time,
for a lack of something better to do with her precious time,
talking about other people's lives either how bad or worse,
good or better they have become at par compared to hers, but of course!
She is my mother, yours could be worse.
I try hard to ignore her, my only recourse.

Clean, Clean, Clean ...

Clean. It's nice to be clean. It feels good to be clean. And it is best to always clean as one goes. But hey, it is never ... never nice to clean up after somebodyelse's mess and more so, when one's occupation does not include such task. More so when one does not get paid for it. Does food and lodging constitute obligation?

As I watch the grass grow ... day in and day out, I turn on my poo radar device ... where the bugs, the bees and flies are is where the poo dumps are. Dogs are funny. They probably think of us humans funny as well. They follow me around while I pick up the dump. They know where I am heading for and they try to beat me to it. They stare at me and yes, they wonder, why I am picking up their poo as I make face because of the stink. To Cohjie, it seems to be a game. The minute he sees me with my poo-pot and pooper-scooper he goes off and tries very hard to dump again. He does it while looking at me with a smile. Pig.

Last year, when he was the only dog, we would wait for days on end before we would pick up his poo in the backyard. Cohjie would have his dumps in rows, an arm's length apart from one to another. Rows and columns, so you just have to walk the line systematically when picking them up. He's the kind of dog who gets his way and pretty much takes care of himself. He's probably the only dog who chews on his toenails. Nobody really cuts them on a regular basis nor does he get walked on asphalt consistently to wear off his nails ... I doubt it very much if he even sees daylight outside the confines of the backyard of the townhouse where he really resides. He is my borrowed dog in my borrowed country where I reside.

Now that there's three of them, there's enough poos in the yard everyday to complete a bag. I need to find a product where the resources would be dog waste. All three dogs get walked. They get to play out in the yard ... they even get groomed every now and then as in washed, brushed and pampered with fruit-scented doggie colognes. They get to go to parks ... trained every now and then as I am not really a stickler for discipline. I am with dogs for the fun and enjoyment of their company.

Toffee, this morning, was playing with the kong ball. Ball in his mouth he would throw it up and then watch it bounce. He would use both of his paws as if trying to dribble it. He would pick it up with his mouth and throw it up in the air again. Then, after a couple of times, he picked it up and headed for the stairs, looked at the steps and decided to let go of the ball ... He watched the ball bounce on every step ... On the thrid step, he followed it bouncing much in the same rhythm that the ball bounced. Cute.

Cohjie by that time, decided to give me his tennis ball. So I threw it from the patio and all three dogs zoomed after it. Of course, it was only Cohjie who knew what the game was. The two other puppies merely followed him and the ball. They did not know any better-that they were supposed to retrieve it and give it back to me so I can throw it again. After about four throws, the two puppies finally caught on but decided to play guard, getting the ball from Cohjie's mouth and refraining him from getting back to me to give the ball. It's like watching dogs play football. But of course, old man Cohjie got tired of it all and decided that he was too damn tired, dropped the ball in between his chest, lied down on it in front of a bone and started to chew instead. The two puppies then started playing with each other running around and play chase. They enticed, stared and off they went preying on each other by turn. Zoom hides around the bush and Toffee try to sneak from the other side. Hide and seek. Old man Cohjie still chewing the bone out of hunger, he is only getting a cup of weight control dog food.

Toffee's a gentle-mannered and good-natured dog. Like any other Sheltie for that matter, you have to win them over. There's a certain peculiarity about the breed that can be addicting. A couple of weeks ago , while I was up in the bedroom ... Cohjie was in the yard while the two puppies were confined in the porch. I heard Toffee barking ... barking ... barking incessantly. Sheltie's are known to be barkers. I ran out to the next room and peeked from the window where you can actually look down and see the porch. Hush, little one. But no, he was just barking and looking towards the corner ... So I followed his gaze and saw that the back door was open. Cohjie was gone!!! OMG! How should I explain to my nephew that I lost his dog? Not only that, I just called SPCA the previous day and reported about a stray dog I've seen thrice lose walking the hood. Now, it's a our dog that's lose, running around the hood!

I, immediately, of course, ran downstairs and sort of followed Cohjie's track. If only I had a dog's sense of smell and hearing. If only I understood what Toffee was howling. So I went up and down our street and around where I take Cohjie for walks. I can hear Toffee continuously barking from blocks away. A lady with 2 kids, one in a stroller was walking towards me and so I asked if she saw any Golden Retriever walking around lose. She suggested that I call SPCA and report the lost Cohjie. OH NO! I just gave my name to SPCA and address about a stray dog yesterday ... and now I will give the same name and address reporting this time that it's our dog that has gone astray. AND OH NO!!! DANG SPCA PUT ME ON HOLD FOR A GOOD HOUR AND A HALF!!! I don't want to go through that again. OH COHJIE!!!

Scowly, I headed back home and as I turned to our street corner, I saw a Golden's tail towards our front door with Toffee still howling his lungs out. I shut the back door close so Cohjie of course couldn't get back the way he got out. I caught up with him at the front door. I did not scold him for one, because he came home. When I opened the door and Cohjie ran inside, Toffee stopped barking in an instant. It does make one wonder what he was saying all that time. My significant other mentioned that in Japan, they have this device that translates the dog's language. Hmmm ... maybe I should order one.

To be continued ...

Dog stories are always nice. Dogs ... they never fail to make my heart smile.

Bicycle, Bicycle ... I Wanna Ride My Bicycle ...

I have always liked riding bikes. Whether it be the good ol' bicycles or motorbikes. The best thing about them is when the wind hits your face. The possibilities of losing your balance, flying off and breaking skin and bones if not your skull or getting hit by faster-moving-vehicles are just added features to the thrill. The wind that hits your armpit as well feels oooh-sooo-gooood.

It took me half a day, the whole morning to learn how to ride a bicycle. A borrowed bicycle at that-from a neighbor, one reason why I had to learn fast since I had to return it right away. And for about two years, I just borrowed bicycles from whomever would lend me. My parents did not approve of the idea as it was unlady-like. "Bicycles were just for boys", they said. Well, little did they know that I would knock on each and every neighbor's door and would borrow their bicycles even if they were a little too big for my size, like the racer ones (little did they know too that I wasn't going to turn out the lady they've always wished for and would end up wearing leather jackets instead-a dyke on a bike). And I would get on it and just ride for hours on end. I remember, my cousin-Eny and my neice-Beth were spending the week-end over. I managed to borrow two bikes from the neighbors but we still lacked one. A boy in his bicycle passed by and so I borrowed his bike. He lent it to us and so we drove off. Three hours later, the boy was crying on the sidewalk. Of course, as expected, I got scolded ... not as bad as when my mother actually found out where exactly we went a couple of months later. Apparently, somebody spotted us biking at EDSA towards Congressional Avenue. That was summer of '71 and in '72, my mother finally gave in and bought me a bike of my own-a splitbike.

Summer of '72 (BTW, there was a hit movie with the same title), somewhere in Queens, New York ... there I was biking around the neighborhood sidewalks with a borrowed bike of course. Speeding downhill ... suddenly Nandy appearing out from the bushes with his red wagon stopped or should I say, blocked my path ... my first big crash. Bone on my shins was visible. But of course, that did not stop me. I suppose, that is why my mother finally bought me a bike-a splitbike.

What's with the splitbike? Well, of all the bicycles that a mother could buy, right? Well, it did split up on me not just once ... Very typical of my mother. Because the splitbike, you assemble and it kinda folds-it's packed tight i.e. less cost for shipping ... imported or stateside as they so put it those days ... and Menchie's Mom was getting him one and mine can not be outdone ... living up with the Joneses (*wink*) ... so much so for bicycles are just for boys ... very typical of my mother ... Hehe ...

I enjoyed borrowing more than having split on my splitbike. I enjoyed flying in and landing in a trash can BUT that was not on the splitbike ... Beth who mostly spent her week-ends over who I had to bribe with Tagalog Komiks (so I would have somebody to play with) ... We borrowed the neighbor's racer bike. I had her in front of me since she needed to be with me to go to the newstand (since it should be HER choice of comic books). So we bought a bunch. As we were riding back, she was holding on to some while the others I sat on. Not a very wise thing to do cause as I pedalled of course, the comic books started to fall off the seat ... So I tried to fix it and as the story goes, my attention wasn't on the steering wheel. Straight towards the canal we went flying into the trash can.

Now, thirty-something years later ... I am still riding the bike and enjoying it. Not as much as I did before although how I wish I still had the energy and the body ... The mindset is there but somehow, I have to work thrice as hard. Downhill is fun but just like rollercoaster rides, there's still the climb. Bicycles have come a long way. Mine's got 24 gears although it's permanently set on 1 at low for uphill and 5 at high gear for flat. My bike is called a hybrid. It's probably the first decent bicycle I've actually owned. I'm happy and quite content.

Now the motorbikes ... that's a different story all together.

Awww... Awesome Aurora ...

Aurora Borealis.

I never thought I would see one. I've always thought it'll always just be a pigment of my imagination or just a picture, a shot taken and preserved by someone else. The first Aurora Borealis I saw, was unfortunately not that spectacular. I wasn't what one would describe awed as in "Awesome" ...
For one, I was uncertain whether it was an Aurora Borealis or my eyes were just fooling me. I used to have 20-20 vision. At past 40, everything starts to go downhill including eyesight. Most of the time, I see flashes of light within my peripheral vision. When I try to read, it does appear blurry when it's too near that I have to put whatever I am reading farther away. Intimate too is nothing but a blur now like being close with someone is comparable to looking at a foggy window. So much so for looking through windows to one's soul. And so as I stared at the sky while waiting for the dogs to do their business before we all retire, I saw the not-so-full-moon up above. It was somewhat yellowish... at its left were the tints and shades of green and so my eyes followed the direction of the hue. There there was ... it seemed like the trees were glowing. My eyes I figured were playing tricks. I switched off the lights in the patio and looked at the sky again. Nope, it wasn't the reflection. The sky is still green, different shades and there were like upward rays from certain points from the trees. Could it be an Aurora Borealis?, I asked myself. I remember my significant other mentioning that the sky is green and not pink like what I previously saw at dusk. I watched it fade and when the dogs were done doing their biz, I tucked little Toffee and brought Zoom back upstairs. I told Rem and of course, she asked why I did not call her. Well, it's the same reason why I didn't blog about it right away. I wasn't sure.

Rem checked www.spaceweather.com and confirmed that indeed, it was an Aurora Borealis I saw that night. When exactly, I forgot. Tsk.

Oh... here's something I don't want to forget. I drove my mother to the T&T Supermarket. On our way home as I was turning at 162a or is 162b Street? to 111th Avenue, I saw 2 grey birds flying kinda low and a white cat crossing the street. I slowed down making way for the cat to finish crossing the street. One of the small grey birds dove and pecked the cat's head. Of course, my mother was babbling away and I just broke out in hysteria. That was really funny. I wished I had a video cam. What my mother was nattering about, I really have no idea ... past forty too, one's hearing kinda goes and for the most part, one also gets more selective ... it takes practice and with much practice, skill is perfected.

Pick One

I actually have a lot to blog about:

1. The Aurora Borealis I saw the other night.
2. The new hybrid bikes and how much fun I have been having riding it.
3. The dogs and their antics. How they make my heart smile.
4. The fun day at PNE.
5. The fun I have been having cleaning and the trip to Vancouver Landfill.
6. The dreams I have been having lately including Dreams, Part III.
7. The plans I have in mind-Dreams, Part IV.
8. The pounds I have lost.
9. The usual, my mother and how she drives me ... LOL!
10.The changes and more changes about to come and still the ever-changing changes ...

Pick one.

A Year Ago ...

A year ago, around this time ... I was doing practically the same thing - watering the lawn 'cept I was obsessed in doing the edges. Everything is more of a routine now. I wake up - bring the dogs out - have my coffee - go to the can - go for my second mug of coffee - bring up Rem's coffee - take the dogs for a walk when it's cloudy and no sunshine or now that we've got bikes, go for a quick spin when it's sunny - go out in the garden and pick up the dogs' poops - empty the poo basket - take out the trash from the kitchen to the garage - sweep the floor - check the mailbox ...

A year ago, I was stuck in front of my Powerbook G4 in my room. Now, it's set up downstairs where I can glance on it, chat a bit with whoever's online while I keep an eye on the dogs in the patio or in the garden. Throughout the day with mom's errands every now and then and in between, I would either just sit out there and feel the cool breeze, brush the dogs' hairs or read a book. Crows, planes, helicopters passing by. The sky is different in this side of the world. Occassionally, I would be staring at the neighbor's tree upward. One of these days, I shall take a picture of it. I should also take a picture of the nursery in front of our house, it'll soon be gone. Most of the time, I'm dogwatching and doing basically nothing ... just enjoying the quiet ... enjoying the moment.

A year ago I was overly stressed, forced somehow ... to oblivion and have gone into hiding. Today I received what I have been waiting for ... I don't know exactly how I feel. The long wait is almost over. I can now go back to my previous life.

Do I really want to?

I suppose ...

Dreams. Part II.

Where are we? We are ... in Canada, still. And still waiting ...

Everyday, I walk ... it used to be the dog but lately, it's been walking the dogs. Whether it's in the morning or in the evening, I find the walks to be refreshing. I am really at peace with myself. And content. I'm finally happy.

Somehow, dreams don't mean as much anymore.

I used to dream a lot ... whether it's dreaming with the corresponding rapid eye movement or simply daydreaming which used to be one of my favorite past times. I remember I would even dream on ... as continue my dreams. It's a skill that I have mastered, being able to continue and pick up where I left off. I would lay down and start daydreaming then doze off eventually where my daydreaming would turn into dreaming for real. And as I wake up, of course, you get to that dreaming stage again and so the story would continue until the next time. I did this a lot especially with the girls I somehow wished to be with. Well, we know I don't do this anymore since I've found someone more than I ever wanted ... eh ...
:)

Ten years ago, on the radio I was interviewed. My exact reply to a question I was asked was, "Follow your heart, everthing else will follow and dreams do come true." Ten years have passed, where my heart is ... at peace. I am happy. I am content.

Except, I am a little worried.
:(

I can still dream, can I?

Care for Part III, anyone? Heehee.

Comment, Please!

Yahoo! I now have "comments" in my blogsite tho' nobody has commented yet. I better watch my blogs now ...

For one, I suppose I should finish my unfinished "Dream Blog" ...

Well, before anything else ... thanks BenJ for fixing my halo :)

Now for the unfinished blog ... let it stay unfinished for now!!!

Comments ... Oh, PLEASE!

hmmm... putting comments but it's not working. maybe i should ask my nephew to do it for me.

Dreams.

I vividly recall sitting on Menchie's bed when we were kids. We were drawing, one of our favorite pastimes and as we doodled, we were telling stories ... somewhat like storyboarding. And in one of our drawings, flying was involved. I demonstrated how to take off ... as how to fly. I was seated and started pushing the air with the palm of my hands. And the feeling ... the feeling I can still remember. I'm just not sure if I dreamt this like while I was asleep or was daydreaming or if it really happened. How nice it is to be a child!

A child at heart, forever child ... it's good to be childlike, mind you - not childish.

Chuckoy.

Somehow, that part of me is slowly being engulfed by ... I don't know.

Dreams.

Another one of those dreams one can never forget, one that is vividly remembered. But this one is more of a nightmare. The fear. The sweat. I woke up with great fear and all sweaty. I was hanging on a cliff with both hands. I was breathless and my hands were giving out. I was of course on the verge of tears ... despair. And the cliff, it was like really high as in scenes from the Grand Canyon ... shades of red to yellow ... Oh yah, I dream in color. I don't recall ever dreaming in black and white.

Chuckoy said to follow your dreams.

WE ALL DREAM AND WE ALL HAVE OUR DREAMS ...

I can still dream, can I?

So Slow

3 pounds? Just 3 pounds? I've been walking diligently and farther and farther ... the poor ol' dog's arthritis is acting up and I just lost 3 pounds? What is the matter? What is wrong with this picture? This whole process of aging sucks. I feel all my leg and thigh muscles getting hard and I just lost 3 pounds!!! Or maybe, that's what it is that's why I have not really lost weight. All the fat are turning into muscles. Yeah ... right! AAARRRGGGHHHHH!

And OH CANADA ...
CKC is so slow when it comes to their documentation process. Hmmm, CIC is also slow. So with everythingelse here. Life in Canada is SLOW. Even their music... the radio stations play country music.

Ang yes, I am still waiting ...

Too Tired, Too Sleepy, Too Exhausted

I want to blog ...
BUT ...
the things I want to blog about most of the time ... I've forgotten or I'm too tired or too sleepy or too exhausted or ... :)

Shitty Mornings

Well ... have been having shitty mornings lately. Literally, shitty ... since we got a couple of puppies. And shit, mind you has been keeping me preoccupied.

No Smoking

75 hours, 25 minutes ... and the clock ticks. That is how long since I last smoked a stick of cigarette. I was at the store this morning and at the counter, I stared at the pack of smokes ... contemplating. The guys at the counter would not sell me some. I told them two days ago that I just quit smoking. Aimlessly wandered in the store, I didn't have money with me so that even if I wanted to get some cigarettes, there's no way I can get some. Well, I brought money with me today ... I bought gum.

Cigars. I thought about cigars. I've seen people smoking them and pipes too. I always hated the smell. Maybe if I lit a cigar, it would make me really stop craving for smokes. So everytime I get the urge, I'd lit up the cigar which should just kill the desire to have a smoke instantly. And to make a point, I suppose ... I can always light up the cigar everytime my mother starts up.

She is giving me the silent treatment right now. Don't you just hate that?

Mothers and wives, they're good. They're also the greatest in making you feel guilty or feel like shit.

I don't suppose it finally dawned on her, it's either somebody talked to her and tried to make some sense or she is just plain hurt. Hurt because I said out loud, jokingly of course, that she stresses me out and that I have to stay away so I don't reach out for a cigarette stick.

She is trying her best to be quiet ... cooking ... watching tv ... cooking ... ironing ... cooking ... I asked if she wanted to go to the mall or store ... she said no and did not even want to look at me, all curled up on the couch ... I wonder how long she can last. I asked her why she had eyebrows on and foundation on her face ... she didn't even bother to answer. Hmmm ... she was hurt by my remark.

This hurts me even more.

It's just about NOW ... I need that pack of cigarette for a rainy day.