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Weanne Myrrh. 20. Filipina Seventh-day Adventist.

Past Posts

Bituwin - template
Dementee - image

Wednesday, October 28
nerd. nerd.

i'm a geek.

i might just go out and admit that. haha. while most people probably spent their sembreak malling, gimmicking, beach-ing, sight seeing, drinking, working, and all other -ings, i spent the past three weeks doing my case conference requirement, working on our thesis, researching for nursing reviewers, conceptualizing the upcoming dedication ceremony, and making reviewers for the board exam.

i need to get a life. raar.

Goosebumps

I feel weird. My palms are tingling and I’m tachycardic.

No, it’s not because of love.

Just a few minutes ago, my sister shouted from the living room that an accident had occurred in front of the Philippine International Church and that two were dead. She got the news from a post in Facebook.

Cue the feeling mentioned above.

Just a week ago, a little kid had gotten hit by a truck while inside the AUP Campus. And now this. Frankly, I was quite shook up. Accidents occurring in AUP? This was too close to home. AUP is my haven, my comfort zone, my safe place. In my eyes, AUP had a force field, protecting it from dangers. Accidents don’t happen here. People don’t die in accidents here. News like that turn my knees to jelly, making them automatically kneel in front of God, scared.

It turned out that it was just a joke. True, an accident had occurred after midweek. But the only things dead were the car engines.

It was a mean joke. Really, I’ll never believe in Facebook gossip again. But in those moments when I thought the news were honest to goodness real, I had an epiphany.

Life is short. Accidents happen. People die. AUP Kids are no exemption. Earlier today, while I was crossing the streets of Silang to board the clunky AUP bus, I forgot to stop, look and listen. Dazed, I had crossed the street, not noticing that a scooter was almost about to hit me.

It could’ve been a truck, or a car. Thank you, guardian angel.

It made me think about death yet again. I’ve contemplated about death so many times in my twenty years, and I know the exact thoughts that are probably going to flash through my head in the split second that it takes for me to give my final breath. No snapshots of my life flashing before my very eyes. Just this thought.

“Jesus. Save me.”

No, I don’t mean that He save me from the clutches of death. It’s not a desperate cry for help. Rather, those three last words are a plea for eternal life. Jesus, forgive me from my sins. Jesus, I’m about to die. Please give me eternal life. Jesus. Please. Despite the sins of my life. Save me.

I know He already has. Saved me, I mean. More than two thousand years ago, on the cross, a condemned robber painstakingly whispered my future script. “Jesus, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.”

The last words of a dying man. Jesus, save me.

And just a few hours later, Jesus did the one thing that could answer that sinner’s prayer. He died on the cross. In that glorious, heartbreaking moment, the plan of salvation was fulfilled. The robber was saved. The world was saved.

I was saved.

So why am I still scared? Why does the thought of my death still terrify me so much? Why don’t I have the serenity to face death trusting that the next time my eyes open, my Savior would be descending from the clouds?

I have a few theories. Maybe it’s because I know I’m not yet ready. Maybe it’s because I haven’t loved Jesus enough to trust Him fully. I haven’t surrendered my life to Him that way. Maybe.

Right here, right now, in my bed, I’m making a decision. I don’t want a deathbed conversion. I don’t want the last seconds of my life to be a scared plea to God. I want to find the quiet peace that comes from knowing that though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil because the Lord is with me.

I pray that you will too.

--------------------

My palms are still tingling.

Rocking the Vote

So i know i haven't done anything on this blog for the longest time. I've had a dozen or so blog entries all written out on my cerebrum, but transcribing them would take so much time away from my facebook sleazing time. Haha. But anyways, this is what i was up to today.

i did something i had never done before.

I registered for the upcoming elections.

Totally cool right? Finally, after 20 years of existence, I could finally exercise that which women had fought tooth and nail for in the past - the right to suffrage. Oh yeah. Only I found out today that it's called suffrage for a reason.

It's because in order to be eligible to vote, you have to SUFFER.

Oh, the day started out pretty well. We left AUP at 8:30 AM riding the bus I thought had been stowed away in the junkyard twenty years ago. Haha. Dear AUPians, you know which one I'm talking about. It's the faithful light blue bus with a distinct noselike hood which I think was purchased from AIIAS two eons ago in order to bring the nursing students Batch 1942 to their affiliating hospitals. But despite the fact that merely touching the bus might actually make you contract tetanus, I kinda like that bus. It has a homey, old-fashioned feel to it.

But anyway. So we rode that bus. One hour and several bumps to the head after, we arrived at Silang at around 9:30 am. My heart started sinking as I caught a glimpse of what was the first sign of danger - a long, 10 meter line. Under the glorious 9:30AM sun. Without even a tent to cover our poor heads.

I should've turned back. Yes, Weanne, you should have known better than to siksik yourself in a line of people trained to singit. But naivete that I am, I fell into the trap.

Eight hours later, I was still in line.

Maybe it was because of the hordes of people cramming to meet the registration deadline. Maybe it was my fault - I really should have registered a couple of months ago. Maybe it was because lots of people were more gifted than me in the art of "singit." Maybe it was because after getting one official to write a couple of numbers on your form, you had to fall in line yet again to write your name on a logbook, then fall in line all over again to get your picture taken. Maybe it was because they only had ONE friggin computer and ONE friggin camera. Or maybe it's because our government conveniently forgot to allocate a few thousand pesos to the election budget while it was on its way to getting an extravagant, thousand-dollar dinner in the United States (Yes, I watch the news sometimes too).

It was a memorable day, though. I got scolded and shooed by a Chinese-Muslim (?) store owner for resting my tired legs in front of his pirated dvd store. "Wahla na makabhili, wala na makadaahn dahil upo kah diyahn!" To forget the crampiness in my legs, I immersed myself in playing Cooking Dash on my iTouch until I finished the entire game. Undeterred, I cracked open my trusty nursing review book and proceeded to memorize the names of the great Filipino nurses who contributed to our profession. Yes, thanks to that incredibly long line, I now can tell you off the top of my head that Cesaria Tan was the first Filipino nurse who got a master's degree in nursing in the United States. And just for your information, Rosario Montemayor Delgado was the first president of the Philippine Nurses' Association. HA!

Yet even after memorizing their glorified names, I still found myself stuck in the center of a large, shouting crowd. I could almost see Mycobacterium tuberculae gleefully skidding across the air shouting, "SUSCEPTIBLE HOSTS! SUSCEPTIBLE HOOOOOSSTTS!!!" All my nursing education forbade me from inhaling properly. I didn't even realize that I was breathing so shallowly until I reached AUP and my lungs felt like they were two breaths short of atelectasis. Upon stepping down from the trusty bus, I deep breathed like never before. Thank you, AUP. Thank you, green-carbon-dioxide-receiving-oxygen-giving trees. Thank you.

As of blogging time, I am now an official registered voter of the Republic of the Philippines, duly licensed to pick a worthy candidate in the upcoming elections. But forgive me for sounding like the proverbial Israelite grumbler, but really, Philippine government? That was the best you could do for your voters? For the youth, the hope of the motherland? Haha. In return for the taxpayers' money, you give us eight hours in the sun, three long lines, one camera and one computer?

But then again. Maybe that was their plan. Because, I tell you, after going through all that trouble, I am going to guard my vote with every fiber of my sunburnt body. Haha. Watch your backs Noynoy, Teodoro, Erap, and the rest of you presidential hopefuls. I am going to research your backgrounds meticulously, I am going to analyze each of your cliche promises one by one. I didn't increase my risk of skin cancer and tuberculosis just to throw away my vote on a half-hearted candidate. No way Jose. And to those who may want to buy my vote for a couple thousand? HA! Fat chance.

So to you who will get my vote this coming elections, please make sure you are worth the nation's effort. And maybe, just maybe, you could throw in a couple more pesos to provide air-conditioned precincts for those who might want to register for the election too. :D

cynical

Johnny and Marissa sitting on a tree
K-I-S-S-I-N-G

First comes love
Then comes marriage
Then comes an abrupt miscarriage

Then comes blame
Then comes despair
Two hearts damaged beyond repair

Johnny leaves Marissa
And then takes the tree

D-I-V-O-R-C-E.


haha. funny but true. TSK.