Caustic Thoughts

Random funny thoughts with a taste of Pinoy and a hint of acid.

Diabetes Epidemic in the Philippines

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Fellow CDO Blogger Gabby was telling me during the dinner break from Toral’s presentation (see previous post) that I should get a second serving for the baby in my belly that had been gleefully squirming after having ingested a prohibitive dose of carbohydrates and sugar. I told him I couldn’t because a second serving of sugary goodness would push my already high sugar levels into orbit, earning for my endocrinologist an extra Php250.

Gabby’s seatmate, Mike, quipped that he met a guy from the Center for Disease Control (CDC) once. Mike opined that it seems that the Philippines is in the middle of a diabetes epidemic and proceeded to ask Mr. CDC what will be done about it. Mr. CDC answered (perhaps jokingly?) that they were going to let Filipino diabetics just die. Anyway, the country does have a population problem.

Gasp!?

The truth is that Mr. CDC’s revelation wasn’t really that shocking. It was amusing to say the least. My mother-in-law died of the complications of diabetes and it wasn’t because the CDC diabolically plotted to push her to her grave. She honestly went the way she wanted to, with a liter of coke in one hand and a platter of steaming pork and rice on the other.

Five years of living with a real Filipino family has taught me that Filipinos love booze and grub more than our impoverished existence. If you have to be in the muck and mire of a difficult reality, why not enjoy it the best way you can? Try to deprive us of simple sugars and all hell will break loose.

Digital Filipino Cagayan de Oro Networking Event

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I am not one given to human idol worship. It’s not because of my fear of being stricken dead by a bolt of lightning even if Sr._____ told me it will happen. I can’t bring myself to idolize anyone because I can’t get rid of the notion that all of us humans are equal when we sit on the toilet.

I came close to bowing in semi worship when I finally met Janette Toral last Friday. She was in CDO for a bloggers’ networking event and I skipped an hour of work just to see her.

Toral is who I want to be when I grow up (I expect to grow a few inches with all the nutrients my doctor has been shoving down my hatch). I admire her not just because she is earning legitimately online, is the veritable first lady of Philippine e-commerce and is devouring the sights and gustatory delights of the country in the course of her work. She’s one of those on top of my list because of her sense of ethics and social responsibility.

I wonder how she began her journey. After more than two years of virtual citizenship, I’m nowhere close to idol status.

*Photo by Chiq Montes

Earning Online? LOL…

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I’ve met them, the bloggers and NETrepreneurs who earn more than the manicured managers who dominate but turn with the wheels of corporate slavery. These virtual citizens who fan themselves with wads of green paper are around us and no one can tell, not even agent Smith of internal revenue.

But these folks didn’t get where they are overnight. It took most of them months and years of constipation, broken nails and bad breath (for not using their mouths often enough) to succeed online. That’s why it’s laughable when my spam box spills over with offers to teach me how to become an online millionaire in ten seconds for $49.

Fortunately, there are guys like Havi Gold who constantly remind us of reality. Every internet newbie should visit his page, itsjustaparody.com before even thinking in $ signs.

Of Bananas and Government Employees

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Some of you think of them as banana-toting shells in government uniforms who take insanely long hours eating their bananas at the expense of taxpayers while verbally demolishing the reputation of some unknowing unfortunate soul on the second floor. When they trudge back to their stations to face the people who have multiplied exponentially, the only greeting they breathe is the sour smell of digested bananas.

Admit it. You’ve nurtured the stereotype too. Chances are there was a point in time when you also thought government employees are lucky bastards who get paid to stare vapidly into outer space on the rare times that they are on duty. I know I did once.

I couldn’t help it. I got accepted for a government position once where all I was required to do was to receive mail. After stamping the day’s mail, I was to pass it over to the lady at the back whose job was to deliver it to the recipient. In between the interminable hours when there was no mail, I was to do nothing. That could have made an ill bred monkey out of me too.

Last year and more recently, I was pleasantly surprised. When I paid my community tax a year ago, the clerk in charge of the counter I was in front of took a whole 30 minutes to, I imagine, eat her bananas. When she got back, she was bringing along another stick of bananas and a story for the clerk on the other cubicle. To my utter surprise, another lady approached the clerk with bananas, told her to keep her bananas and start working. Gasp! Government people now apparently care about the time and taxes that we pay.

This year, I had an even better experience paying my community tax. The woman who stole… erm… received my payment had a beautiful smile and said please and thank you. Double gasp!

My best experience of all was at a government agency. I had a problem with my health benefits and was prepared to argue myself hoarse with an uncomprehending clerk when, to the sound of my internal triple gasps, the lady in charge calmly took note of my problem and solved it for me in ten minutes. Best of all, there were no bananas in sight.

I have therefore come to the logical conclusion that not all government employees are useless banana-toting shells. Wow!

*PBA verification code PBA0957934op

Bricks and Rocks Will Break Your Bones…

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If my husband is any indication, we Filipinos are slowly learning that we can just sit on our lazy asses, cultivate cellulite between the cheeks and let our fingers do all the shopping. Getting an item delivered to you from E-bay can take all of ten minutes without the agony of infinity pools of sweat (yours and other shopper’s) and failing deodorant.

Yes, online shopping is uber convenient but I’d hate to be on the receiving end of bricks and rocks. I’ve heard about this before but never actually thought it happens often in the U.S. Customers buy electronic products only to later find out that their product boxes contain nothing more than the prehistoric equivalent of new technology— bricks and rocks. It’s either there have been a lot of naughty buyers or evil elves behind the counters. One investigative story here hazards an explanation.

That’s easy, you say. After all, in the U.S. a customer can complain all the time and still get a full body massage, a lollipop and a trip to Disneyland. Apparently though, the famed American customer service is no longer a gold standard. Now you can be passed from one rep to another from the Atlantic to the Pacific and there’s nothing you can “sue” about it.

If I got a box of bricks instead of a Mac, I might just skip customer service and start throwing bricks in the dead of the night instead.

*Photo from Big Foto

My Mother is Not a Pig

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The realization of the year just hit me. Our parents are not as neurotic, psychotic, paranoid or unreasonable as we think. They’d been telling the truth all along but we’ll never really get it until we’re about their age. By that time, we’ll look back and realize we acted like medieval thinkers hell-bent on burning our parents at the stake.

Now I look with horror at my own future burning. She is only four and already she scowls at what she perceives to be my dictatorial reign.

If my mom were half the antagonist I’d imagined her to be, I suppose she’d be cackling right now. In between her sounds of mirth she’d probably say, “I told you so.”

A Measure of Self Determination

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There are some things that grow on me and that I cherish almost fondly like stretch marks and sunny days. Then there are things I just can’t stand like hemorrhoids and carbon monoxide.

For five years, I have had the enduring desire to buy or rent a place of my own for my family. That would mean my husband, kids and I would have to leave my in-laws. I have been called selfish, thoughtless and proud not by my in-laws but by an indirect, faceless voice.

Is it selfish to want to have some measure of self determination? Am I proud for wanting to be able to chart my own course, raise my kids my way and exist as an independent being?

My parents raised me to be extremely independent and they had a feeling I wouldn’t survive living in someone else’s kingdom. I never really understood what they were saying. It seems I had to shower under truckloads of poop to get the point. Now I hear them clearer over the noise of falling shit.

Michael Jackson and Farah Fawcett Dead

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Michael Jackson is deadThe King of Pop Michael Jackson and 70s sex symbol Farrah Fawcett were reported dead, June 25, 2009.

Jackson was found unconscious and was no longer breathing. The official cause of his death was cardiac arrest. He is survived by his three children, Prince Michael I, Paris Michael and Prince Michael II.

Fawcett succumbed to anal cancer after three years of fighting her illness. She is survived by her partner Ryan O’Neal and son Redmond O’Neal.

May they rest in peace.

Satellite TV and My Addiction

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I am an addict, a TV addict that is. Unfortunately, my only real options right now are the two warring local networks that continuously shove melodramatic fare that’s either too bad to be true or just plain bad. That’s why I was drooling yesterday when I saw that new small 18 inch dish perched on a neighbor’s home.

I’ve been thinking of getting DreamTV too which is what is available right now in my area but I wonder if the cost is worth the limited channels I can access. I still wish we had Direct Satellite TV here. With more than 200 channels to choose from, I’d have died and gone to TV heaven.

Like DreamTV, Direct TV works through satellite transmissions. Ground facilities transmit programming to satellites and satellites transmit back to viewers’ dishes so you’re sure you’ll get what you want to watch in full digital clarity. This is a more reliable option than cable and plain local TV.

It’s a bummer being a couch potato when I can’t get my hands on Satellite Directv.

Intoxicated with Root Beer

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I crave for root beer. I have to wait six more months though before I can have my first taste of it in years. No, I did not move to Antarctica nor do I live in an underdeveloped country, although our congressmen seem bent on proving that we are incapable idiots living in one.

We have root beer here but restaurants and fast food chains don’t seem to serve them anymore. Canned root beer is available in some stores but the remaining months of my pregnancy and the months after that must be devoted to keeping my sugar levels low to ensure that my child doesn’t suffer from developmental difficulties.

I can barely keep my discipline. I remember when I was growing up in Baguio. There were self-service stores that allowed us to mix all the soft drink brands in our cups. When it came to root beer though, I always drank it solo. It was like a sacred drink of sorts and I was its priestess.

What made me suddenly remember root beer?

I read somewhere on the net (or did someone tell me the story) that he (the storyteller) was barred from entering an establishment because he was carrying a can of root beer. The establishment pointed out that he could not enter because the can had the word “beer” on it. Well, I thought only congressmen were semantically challenged.

If root beer is an alcoholic drink, I must have become an alcoholic at the tender age of 8. Apparently though, I seem to be undergoing a withdrawal period of sorts. My symptoms include irritability, insanity and impatience over Con-Ass.

I can only drool at that fridge in Watson’s.

*Photo from Free Stock Photos