Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Crap.
I freaking woke up with a huge ass headache. I have a fucking fever. Nothing could be better than a huge headache and a hole in your mouth that won't stop bleeding. Sorry we didn't get to jam Abby... Hope this makes you feel better xD.
A Puffy Cheek.
Today, or technically yesterday since its 1:18 in the morning, I had my wisdom teeth pulled out. See, I would have had it pulled out 3 weeks ago, but I didn't follow the rule by not eating or drinking 6-8 hours before. For some reason, I dreamed the night before that I was already at the office getting my teeth pulled out. Sadly, the surgery was not how I pictured.
When I arrived at the office, I waited as I watched the surgeon walk by grabbing folders and tossing envelopes around. He stood about six feet tall, and for some reason he reminded me of a hairless Santa Clause. From his personality, I felt a little skeptic because of the way he treated his patients. He seemed too nice and a little too laid back. After, I heard my name. I followed this lady into a room far from what I dreamed. See, in my dream, I pictured a clean white room, with a dentist chair, and an oxygen mask waiting for my usage. It was the complete opposite. The place looked as if it was a scene in an 80's horror movie. A movie where a doctor straps down a patient and carefully slits each part of the person's living body while the nurse watches in laughter. Anyways, I removed my jacket and shoes and laid on this table (kinda like the autopsy tables seen in C.S.I). They strapped me down making sure I would not move during the operation, and placed this stapler looking thing on my index finger which checked my pulse. Now as they were doing this, I was wondering, how are they going to put me to sleep? They were going to put me to sleep, right? Unexpectedly, the surgeon grabs my arm, and sprays this chemical that instantly freezes my arm. He then went on talking about how this is similar to a snow boot in Alaska crushing an icicle which made me confused. Doing so, he grabbed a needle, and injected it through my vein. I became relieved because I did not feel the injection but gazed as bits of blood squirted from my arm. Moments later, I remember looking up at the ceiling as they placed these goggles on my face and completely falling deep asleep. I hear the cracking of bones being crushed together for a split second and wake up immediately after. And let me tell you, once I woke up, my whole body felt like a twizzler. My head felt completely light, and I did not have any feeling in any of my arms. My attempt at walking around resembled an orangutan. Bringing my arms back and forth as my neck was hunched out. It came to the point where I needed assistance from the surgeon to escort me to the car. Once I sat in the car, I fell asleep only to be awaken from the pleasuring smell of cookie dough ice cream my mother bought from Baskin Robbins.
Also, I went Go-Kart racing with Antoine, Aaron, Donald, Anthony and Khoi. Pretty Cool. I need to get my lisence.
When I arrived at the office, I waited as I watched the surgeon walk by grabbing folders and tossing envelopes around. He stood about six feet tall, and for some reason he reminded me of a hairless Santa Clause. From his personality, I felt a little skeptic because of the way he treated his patients. He seemed too nice and a little too laid back. After, I heard my name. I followed this lady into a room far from what I dreamed. See, in my dream, I pictured a clean white room, with a dentist chair, and an oxygen mask waiting for my usage. It was the complete opposite. The place looked as if it was a scene in an 80's horror movie. A movie where a doctor straps down a patient and carefully slits each part of the person's living body while the nurse watches in laughter. Anyways, I removed my jacket and shoes and laid on this table (kinda like the autopsy tables seen in C.S.I). They strapped me down making sure I would not move during the operation, and placed this stapler looking thing on my index finger which checked my pulse. Now as they were doing this, I was wondering, how are they going to put me to sleep? They were going to put me to sleep, right? Unexpectedly, the surgeon grabs my arm, and sprays this chemical that instantly freezes my arm. He then went on talking about how this is similar to a snow boot in Alaska crushing an icicle which made me confused. Doing so, he grabbed a needle, and injected it through my vein. I became relieved because I did not feel the injection but gazed as bits of blood squirted from my arm. Moments later, I remember looking up at the ceiling as they placed these goggles on my face and completely falling deep asleep. I hear the cracking of bones being crushed together for a split second and wake up immediately after. And let me tell you, once I woke up, my whole body felt like a twizzler. My head felt completely light, and I did not have any feeling in any of my arms. My attempt at walking around resembled an orangutan. Bringing my arms back and forth as my neck was hunched out. It came to the point where I needed assistance from the surgeon to escort me to the car. Once I sat in the car, I fell asleep only to be awaken from the pleasuring smell of cookie dough ice cream my mother bought from Baskin Robbins.
Also, I went Go-Kart racing with Antoine, Aaron, Donald, Anthony and Khoi. Pretty Cool. I need to get my lisence.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
My Niece Joy.
Yes she needed her own entry.Well since coming back from Hawaii, my sleeping schedule has been screwed. Its 3 in the morning and I can't go to sleep for some reason. Damn you Independence day, made me fall asleep.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Hawaii
As far as I can remember, it was a place where I can truly always call paradise. Where warm fuzzy clouds await the command of your very own imagination. Where calm soothing skies are only describable by the word beautiful. Where the ocean breeze caresses against your cheek after the chilly sensation of sea water drips away from your nose. A little place or "island" I like to call Hawaii. Having days where I would be awaken from the sweet easing voice of singing birds and falling asleep to the comforting sound of ukulele strings was merely a daily routine. The delicacy of Hawaii's nature is unlike any other place I've seen. From pickle-like feet covered in sticky sand to the sweet sound of the ocean waves nothing beats a day in Hawaii. Raindrops were the last thing I thought about in the Aloha state. Not till the day I thought would never come.
The no where near fluffy clouds sailed across the skies of gray while the morning breeze was nothing close to relaxing. Once I stepped off the plane I knew things were far from normal. I wondered where the rainbows have gone, why I felt like Dorothy? There's no place like home, right Grandma? Its just not the same. The first couple of days my aunts and uncles picked up heartbroken relatives as I waited at home gazing at the raindrops flowing past the window. I would try killing the drowsy afternoon watching hours of countless movies but that only led to me falling asleep halfway through the film. Still, the idea that each day brought me closer to her funeral only made my day slower.
Monday, December 15 was the day of the family viewing. It is when close family members walk into a dull room where rows of chairs face towards the end of the room where her very open casket lies. Once I walked in, I found the closest seat and carefully watched as my relatives stormed to her body. I wasn't too close to my grandmother but the suffering I watched from my aunts and uncles brought me to tears. I couldn't watch them cry, it really broke me down. All the memories I had were pictures of her holding me when I was a child, or her playing the piano while she sang. In every picture, she had the same expression on her face. A expression that would bring joy to all. When they called us up for pictures, I knew it would be steps I would have to take again the next couple of days. Every step that drew me closer rose the beating of my heart until I reached the last step. A step that froze my heart. There she laid. Peacefully in her casket with her colorless hands wrapped in a rosary. Her make-up done poorly able to tell who she was, her long dark hair tied back and her dress, lovely yet the last she will ever wear.
Well if I am right, a video camera is used to record moments from the past to say "I remember that, that was fun!" or "I wish we can do that again!" What I don't understand is why my mother wanted me to record the funeral. I don't think I'll ever be able to watch that video. The last thing I recorded was the toughest three minutes I will ever experience. The drops of rain slowly faded away and all that was foreseeable was the gloomy open sky. Everyone watched the grave diggers unstrap the coffin cautiously hearing every single buckle unwind. Unexpectedly, when her coffin barely moved an inch, a burst of tears screamed out from the crowd. I stood in the corner recording every single cry, every shriek, as I struggled keeping my fingers on the camera. Recording every unhappy look as they watched her sink. After her coffin was safely ten feet under, I shut off the camera and grasped my fingers on a rose. Sending my last farewells, I released the flower below hoping she received every tear. Hawaii will never be the same without you. Goodbye Grandma, may you bring happiness wherever you are, just like you've done to us.
Victorina Ulep Abuluyan October 30, 1929 - November 21,2008
The no where near fluffy clouds sailed across the skies of gray while the morning breeze was nothing close to relaxing. Once I stepped off the plane I knew things were far from normal. I wondered where the rainbows have gone, why I felt like Dorothy? There's no place like home, right Grandma? Its just not the same. The first couple of days my aunts and uncles picked up heartbroken relatives as I waited at home gazing at the raindrops flowing past the window. I would try killing the drowsy afternoon watching hours of countless movies but that only led to me falling asleep halfway through the film. Still, the idea that each day brought me closer to her funeral only made my day slower.
Monday, December 15 was the day of the family viewing. It is when close family members walk into a dull room where rows of chairs face towards the end of the room where her very open casket lies. Once I walked in, I found the closest seat and carefully watched as my relatives stormed to her body. I wasn't too close to my grandmother but the suffering I watched from my aunts and uncles brought me to tears. I couldn't watch them cry, it really broke me down. All the memories I had were pictures of her holding me when I was a child, or her playing the piano while she sang. In every picture, she had the same expression on her face. A expression that would bring joy to all. When they called us up for pictures, I knew it would be steps I would have to take again the next couple of days. Every step that drew me closer rose the beating of my heart until I reached the last step. A step that froze my heart. There she laid. Peacefully in her casket with her colorless hands wrapped in a rosary. Her make-up done poorly able to tell who she was, her long dark hair tied back and her dress, lovely yet the last she will ever wear.
Well if I am right, a video camera is used to record moments from the past to say "I remember that, that was fun!" or "I wish we can do that again!" What I don't understand is why my mother wanted me to record the funeral. I don't think I'll ever be able to watch that video. The last thing I recorded was the toughest three minutes I will ever experience. The drops of rain slowly faded away and all that was foreseeable was the gloomy open sky. Everyone watched the grave diggers unstrap the coffin cautiously hearing every single buckle unwind. Unexpectedly, when her coffin barely moved an inch, a burst of tears screamed out from the crowd. I stood in the corner recording every single cry, every shriek, as I struggled keeping my fingers on the camera. Recording every unhappy look as they watched her sink. After her coffin was safely ten feet under, I shut off the camera and grasped my fingers on a rose. Sending my last farewells, I released the flower below hoping she received every tear. Hawaii will never be the same without you. Goodbye Grandma, may you bring happiness wherever you are, just like you've done to us.
Victorina Ulep Abuluyan October 30, 1929 - November 21,2008
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