Street kids and street cats

It's been a tough 2 weeks, with my cat being in the hospital, but today we were finally sent home. This is my first time to experience an animal being sick and being hospitalized. And oh mylanta! If you're put in a cage you'd be more sick too. The dogs and cats I've seen in those cages were all very weak and looked like they're close to death. And everytime I visit mine, I just fall to pieces. Then Chat decided to call my vet and asked her of how my cat can be moved from the other animals....."do you have a private suite and with amenities for my mom?" Who would think of asking such a question.... but Chat. Well, of course they do. A 4x6 private suite....big enough for Winn, but too small for the 2 of us. But the room really did wonders for Winn. I stayed with him 1 day and 1 night there, and immediately he came back to his old self, reason why we're now home. "When you get home make sure he doesn't mingle with peasant cats, so he won't get infected again." This was Chat's instruction. And this peasant cat I got is starting to act like Chat--- only the best will do for him. The nerve!
As soon as we got home he refused to stay inside the house, he pressed his nose against the door and when I opened it his tail started wiggling and he went and hugged the ground. I guess, life is good again.

While Winn was in the hospital, I distracted myself with this new street kid. You know why animals love you unconditionally? Because they won't hear you say that you want to kill them and that's because unlike kids, they don't talk back.

Think fool, think!

My cat is very ill so he had to be admitted to the animal hospital. After the first day, I went back to check on what had been done and what they found out. Nothing. They were just going to observe him. My eye bags stretched with my eyebrows together with my raised voice. "He's in distress from his bloated stomach, and you're doing nothing?" "Well, ma'am we don't have an ex-ray machine." "What do you mean no x-ray machine, I saw you have one" "We don't have any chemicals for the machine ma'am." By now, I morphed into a mad woman.

What good is a smiling, gentle doctor (for animals or for humans) but stupid, who can not think proactively, who can not think critically, or think outside of the box. An idiot would know to call me to let me know that the critical test that was necessary wasn't done and should inform me so I can make my own plan of action. After 36 hours and only because I asked. Needless to say, I packed my cat and we left and moved to another hospital.

If you live in Cebu and you own an animal, you would not want to use Cebu Veterinary Doctors Hospital. I would not let any life form go near them, unless I decide to make cockroaches as my pets.

Stray cats and strange behavior

I am not into dogs, but what is it about animals that calms a shivering nerve and at the same time shakes your world when that animal's presence in your life is threatened to be cut short? My cat has been ill for several weeks now, and after a few shots of antibiotics and several pesos later he's still not showing any remarkable improvement, so I finally admitted him to the hospital yesterday. I was beside myself watching him being poked and prodded and blood extracted from his bony paws, but I feel better telling myself that I am doing the best I can for him. Before I left him, I told the doctor to do the best he can, that money is not a problem. Did I just say that? Yes, I did. I really did. I would have to pawn my lungs since I have already pawned my kidney, but yes, money is not an obstacle when it comes to my cat. But really, what gave me the confidence and the peace was because Chat used that word: "Mom, do whatever it takes for Winnie to live, money is not a problem." And I thought Leona Hemsley was an idiot for leaving 8 million to her pets.

This week....

My friend arrived from Manila and always when she's in town, she completes my day...or in this case, week. Our first plan of going to another island didn't pan out so we just toured the city and hotel hopped, and this was made possible because she drove. As you would not find me behind the wheel (in this island) wriggle my way in and out of the latest SUV's and the carcasses of 2nd world war jeepneys.

Just for nostalgia, all these for 7 us dollars. I think it's too much for the same fruits that we didn't really pay much attention to when we were growing up.


I have changed the schedule with my rugby team; instead of me going to them, I now have them come to my place every Saturday afternoon. We tell stories, sing or dance and talk about God and man. Then we eat.

Then I bandage their external wounds, as I am not equipped to take care of the internal ones---emotional or mental.



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Bake,bake, bake

I am trying to get acquainted with local baking ingredients and where to buy them. In the US I can go to one grocery store and get everything I need in that store, but not here. Today, I wanted to buy vanilla, lemon extract and confectioners sugar for a recipe I wanted to make, so I went to the biggest grocery store in the island....and they didn't have it. I got frustrated so I decided to make bundt cake instead.It costs money (as always )when I am bored and agitated.

Food...etc

Yesterday, before the crack of my eyelids I went to the wet market. A dawn procession for the fluvial parade in honor of the "black Nazarene" (baby Jesus)was passing by. I don't know why Cebuanos think that my Lord Jesus is black.


Fermented fingerlings,dried sardines, whatever you fancy.


Rump roast or pork belly?
Hello!!! White or dark? We had a good life until you decided that being a vegetarian sucks.

Did you pay extra for that label "free range"? How did we end up here and into your frying pan?

Don't worry...be happy?

I am waiting for the welder to come install a steel gate to the outside kitchen-- who was supposed to have been here 2 days ago. No phone calls, no nothing and he has my money already. I am also waiting for the granite lady to call, to come and measure my countertop and it's now almost 5 pm. I'm not going to be bothered, because I have worked hard to learn to accept this laid-back (lazy) attitude of Filipinos because it's a mindset that is deeply rooted in most everyone here. I hate to say this, but my friend is right, the reason most Filipinos are poor is because they choose to be. They chose the lifestyle they want to live in and that is, if they have noodles to eat for today, why work anymore? Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow's noodles.

So I sit here wondering if I'd get lucky and someone would really show up today, or at least call. While waiting, I browse through Facebook and get nosy. I have deactivated my account twice, only to catch myself back at it again. I love Facebook. Why? Because it's free therapy. It's an open arena showcasing peoples state of mind. Like, one posts all the time about how "broke" she is and how she hope she can gather enough change to buy a hot dog. And this post alternates with "I soooo love my man" (who is obviously 1st degree broker than she is or why hasn't he bought her a friggin hotdog so she'll stop craving for a hotfriggindog, week after week.) If I'm that broke, you'd see my post like this: At Four Seasons Spa enjoying a Vichy shower. Then off to a steak and lobster dinner.
In other words, I'd lie through my teeth about the state of my pocket and I definitely won't be caught dead giving you an idea that I'm going with a broke bloke. Because to begin with, I would have to be insane to get involved with a broke bloke. (I can be broke by myself, why add his sorry arse to mine.)
So the next time you see my post saying: @Eiffel tower, happy and not griping, (about anything) having a wonderful dinner with my wonderful man, looking out into the sunset. It would be a safe guess that I have been dumped and am alone, staring into the horizon and about to jump off the bridge. Minus the pictures.

Gripe, gripe

I wish someone would give me a dime every time I gripe about my country of birth and my people, because this is all I can and want to do. When I am here. In the Philippines.

Toilet paper and tissue napkins.

In the U.S., restaurants are stocked with napkins, left out on the table; thick and wide and strong. Every time you eat out, you can empty the whole napkin dispenser, put it in your bag and ask the waiter for refills. He will gladly oblige, no questions asked. Then you can go to the restroom and bag all the toilet paper too. Even if you only eat out once a week, you can delete these two items from your shopping list. Forever. But Americans won't do this....steal napkins. They may steal the whole pantry, but napkins? Also note that American airlines flight attendants don't announce at the end of the flight reminding passengers that the blankets and the tv belong to the airplane. Because Americans just know that them itchy-never-been-washed blankets should remain where they are...on the floor and not in your bag. And they're not going to be caught dead yanking out a 4" poor excuse of a tv from behind a snoring 379 lb. passenger. But my countrymen just can't and won't leave things alone. Is it because we were raised helping ourselves to the neighbors chickens and eggs? And adults sending us on errands to borrow sugar or salt from the neighbor and we can't remember ever returning them? So we pay the price; we have to bring our own toilet paper wherever we go or make do with restaurant napkins, that is if it hasn't dissipated after you used it to wipe your fork or spoon.

Sales clerks. Duties: Stand there. Smile. Memorize 2 short English sentence: "Good morning/Afternoon Sir" "Good morning/Afternoon Maam" Product knowledge: zero
It's very seldom that I would need help at the grocery store, but I dread having to buy something like hardware materials or appliances. Today, I went to the hardware store looking for a saw. (That's right, a saw.) I swear, the guy assigned to that aisle had a pulse and some brain activity, until I had the audacity to ask him about his product. Product knowledge about a saw? 30 degrees below zero. He was so useless, he is the first one you'd want to eat when your plane crash in an island no one knows about. (except the backpackers who successfully kept it out of Lonely Planet writers). But I don't think you can eat something that's smiling at you, telling you it's a good morning or afternoon.