Bee’s sick and I’m worried because I can’t be with him to look after him. I called him up earlier this evening and he sounded really bad over the phone. He was complaining of sore throat last night on YM and this afternoon, he developed fever. Now, he’s having chills. I heard how a lot of people are getting sick these days. The change in weather is taking its toll in a lot of people’s weakened immune systems especially those who are working in call centers and are on night duty. The downpour in the past few days also doesn’t help. Stagnant water promotes breeding of mosquitoes. Xienah, in fact, was recently in the hospital for Dengue Fever. If I were her, I’d be extra careful around mosquitoes since it’ll probably be a lot worse the next time she’ll have Dengue. Lucky for me, I seem to be spared from getting sick. But my track record over the past Christmases isn’t really good and I feel like I’d get sick again this year on Christmas Day.

I haven’t done my Christmas shopping ‘coz I barely have time to get my butt to go shopping. Bee and I are supposed to go to Divisoria tomorrow to look for gift ideas like promotional pens to give away to friends. Looks like I’ll have to do the shopping alone – or perhaps, if I am lucky enough, I can drag my aunt to go with me tomorrow. I hope I can ‘coz I’m scared of going there alone. =(

This used to be a rather farfetched idea: me and law school.

The only way you could put me and law school in one coherent sentence is when I say “I don’t like law school” which is like saying 1 + 1 = 2; a hard and fast fact. But recently, thanks to my professor who has multiple degrees tucked under his belt, I’ve been contemplating on giving the said field a chance. The idea of having an “Atty.” before and an “M.D.” after my name sounds too ambitious but it doesn’t mean that it’s not possible, does it? Finances aside, I think I can take on the challenge, especially since I am actually a bit on the suicidal side (it is suicide, agree?). The story of how he ended up taking up law after snagging the M.D. was indeed inspiring and the hurdles he had to overcome made my med school problems look like David beside a Goliath. He was studying law, was serving as a physician at a nearby school and was teaching at another institution next door during his lunch break all at the freakin‘ same time. If he wasn’t actually good-looking and charming enough, I would have thought him to be neurotic. I see myself probably doing pretty much the same if only I had XY genes, but since time is of essence for us females who do not wish to be genetic dead ends, doing so would definitely shove my mommy-instincts at the backseat – probably for good.

I asked Bee if he thinks he (or his ego) could take a lawyer-doctor for a wife. He just let out a smile. I knew it. I’d probably just resort to selling life insurance quotes instead.

The days that I’ve been dreading have finally come.

The first set of exams on my third year in medical school will be thrown my way starting tomorrow. Scared is the best adjective to describe what I’m feeling right now. I don’t think I’m ready to take the exams at all, but then, I figured out lately that there’s simply no way anyone would be ready to take the exams or even close to 100% confident of acing them when there’s just too much extra schoolwork being thrown our way too. In fact, I submitted the last of my papers just this Monday. Imagine the time lost making them! Instead of spending it for reviewing for the exams, we were stuck doing them instead! (Okay, so there’s a little bitterness hidden somewhere there, I got the results for one of my papers and it totally sucked!)

I am so scared really. I don’t know what to expect in the next few days. Please do pray for me. I don’t wish to get high grades, probably just enough to pass and save myself from feeling all stressed out for the next block.

How come guys can be really, really insensitive? How can they stand being such?

I know they’re not psychics, nor can they read other people’s minds but then again, there are just some things that you don’t need or have to tell them so that they’d understand. Us girls aren’t asking much. Just a teensy-weensy bit of sensitivity on their part will do. If guys would go and argue with me that a girl, in order to understand her, MUST tell them what she feels, then I’d probably would have gone out with a robot than a guy with an IQ instead. After all, it doesn’t make much of a difference does it?

I woke up this morning very eager to start the long day despite the lack of sleep from sorting out my vanity pictures for Bee’s consumption (I still don’t get it why he wants to see my entire collection!). I took a bath, did my waxing routine and ate a quick breakfast before my brother and I headed for Makro where we’d pick up a few things for tomorrow’s outing. The trouble began when my tummy started to feel funny. I had to ask my brother to go back home after we spent a good half hour at Makro even if we were still supposed to grab other goodies at another grocery store. By the time we reached the gate, the pain had relocated from the epigastrium to the left side and I was writhing in pain when I reached the door. The next thing I knew, I was in the bathroom for a good half hour, still in pain and was even vomiting. I had to call my mom and tell her about my condition which sent everyone into panic mode. They thought I had already fainted inside the bathroom. My brother was thisclose to opening the door – good thing he didn’t – ‘coz I had to strip off my clothes because I was having difficulty breathing and was really dizzy. Another half an hour later, I was already in bed, still confused on what happened. Read the rest of this entry »

Today is April 7, 2008.

Three months ago, I chose to live my life with someone. He came into my life and filled it with so much happiness all unexpectedly. He caught me off guard just when I lowered down my defenses and today, we celebrate our third month as a couple.

Sadly though, I didn’t expect the day to turn out this way:

Depressing.

Frustrating.

Disappointing.

Being the pathetically romantic and lovestruck girl that I am, I was looking forward to this day with so much eagerness. For days, I had been conjuring in my head the words that can best sum up how strongly I feel for him for a blog entry I was intending to let him read. He is, after all, the guy who can make me laugh when I feel like crying, the guy who’s always there to give me the push when I need it, the guy who’s always there behind me 100%, the guy I terribly miss each and every single time we’re not together and the guy I’d want to spend my life with if the clock decides to stop ticking.

There’s no doubt about how much I love Bee.

So there’s nothing more depressing, frustrating or disappointing if the guy you love conveniently forgets about the special day you got together.

Three months is no big deal for some people. It is just after all, three months. A very young love indeed. But that’s exactly the reason why I’m sulking in my little corner. At this stage, we’re supposed to be still very giddy about the milestones that our relationship marks – first summer outing, first birthday, first Christmas, first meeting with the parents – throw in all those firsts in that basket and you have that point in the relationship when everything around is nothing but rosy and red. Indeed, what else can cap off the honeymoon basket other than the first anniversary? From experience, and that of my friends, every month of the journey to that first anniversary is worth remembering, if not celebrating. I had not been used to so much extravagance in my life so a full-blown celebration of the milestones to that first anniversary is more of an option than a must. In fact, I don’t even require us to spend time together on that special day. A simple “Happy ___ month” greeting, even in txt 4mat (which so happens to be one of my pet peeves), is enough to make me happy and plaster a smile on my face for me to show off the whole day.

I got home badly tired from the overnight out-of-town trip with my family but I managed to log in to my yahoo messenger and have a chat with Bee. It was thirty-minutes before 12 am. Since I cannot be with him on this day, I figured that just chatting with him and being with him online is good enough for me. I jokingly commented how it was already midnight when the clock finally struck twelve to subtly remind him that it was April 7, then I waited. Waited. And waited. Fifteen minutes later and a good number of messages after, there was no sign from him that he was actually aware of the date. At that instant, I felt as if my heart’s being clenched and shattered into little, tiny pieces.

Bee forgot. Again.

In the span of three months of being together, Bee has forgotten our ‘monthsary’ twice. The first being *gasp* on our first month. He was forgiven after he rushed to our apartment that day when he learned about his major boo-boo. On the second month, he made sure he was the first one to greet between the two of us. I thought he has finally learned the ropes and kept in mind the must-dos of a relationship but after what has happened today, I guess it’s between waiting for him to finally get things right or just getting used to the fact that my boyfriend is one of those XYs troubled with selective amnesia. Bee did remember why today was extra special after a change in ‘tone’ and a sudden shift of moods transpired on my part. I told him I was okay and to forget about what happened, but truth be told, I am not okay and not even close to forgetting about it. I shed tears and I feel like my heart is being squeezed when I remember how frustrated and disappointed I am with him today. We’re supposed to be seeing each other on Tuesday, a good ten days since we were together but at this moment, I don’t feel like pushing through with it at all. I feel like acting like a kid spoiled rotten and sulk in my corner while wallowing in my disappointment. I don’t want to see Bee no matter how much I missed him these past few days. At this point, my disappointment of him outweighs that part of me who misses him by probably more than a hundred pounds.

I know nobody’s perfect and I am bound to forget dates someday, but at this point, I wish my boyfriend’s imperfection would have been something else other than this.