My Traffic Life

I am Mae German. 32 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.

My Traffic Rules

Don't take my words personally. At times, not even literally. This is my journal. You're my reader. My spectator. Applaud. Yawp. Yawn. Smile. Frown. Rave. Rant. Or not. Neither can I see you from where I am standing nor can I hear you.

This is not my life. Maybe just a part of it. But this is me meandering through life. My emotions fluctuate. My opinion varies. If it's too hot in here and you can't take it, leave. If it's dull and too cold, go somewhere else for warmth. I won't wipe the frown on your brow.

My stories, unless stated otherwise, are mostly fictional. Fiction could be based on reality. Still, they are fiction. Don't own it. Don't live in it. It is what it is. Leave it.

Watch out for the traffic light. Follow the rules. Cruise.

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I. Have. To. Lose. Some. Weight.

Sunday, 22 November 2009

I was browsing on some stuff about this Plano cosmetic dentist when I remembered something. I had a lot of visits to the dentist before I left the country. Now, my root-canaled tooth's coat was chipped off two weeks ago (for eating too much nuts!). Dilemma #1.

Dilemma #2. A few weeks before I flew in here, my mother and I went to a seamstress for some pair of pants. I even asked her to put some allowance because I know I will be wearing thermal suits. Thirteen months later, being unable to penetrate into the corporate world, I tried some pants on. I went back to the other state with an empty bag. You guessed it right. None of those pairs that were once loose on me fits me now.

For someone who was (and maybe still "is") a gym rat and a badminton addict, not fitting in to her usual size would be alarming. I was alarmed. I wanted to take my rackets out, re-gut them, and find some courts and clubs in the area where I can play again. I miss the rush of working out. I miss the challenge of my sport. I miss the feeling of being light. I miss my health-conscious buddies. And I miss my old clothes.

Argh! I can almost hear my PT's voice asking me in dismay as I step on to the scale after our work out, "What have you done?!"

Weight is fluctuating from 116 to 117 pounds.

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