lax...

From the day I was born, I was unapologetically my Lola’s favorite grandchild. So much so that when it was time for my family and me to leave the Philippines to come to California, she insisted I stay. I ended up staying an additional two years with her before I was finally allowed to live my mom and dad. I was five. Despite the physical distance, we stayed close. I’d get packages in the mail on special occasions, phone calls on a regular basis, and every few years she’d hop on a plane and take the 16-hour flight out to stay with us for a few months. Early 2007, she received her green card and made her final trip to California to live with us permanently.   

Gastric Cancer. That, the doctor said, was the cause of the stomach pains, the trouble swallowing, and the massive weight loss. I was so angry! How could she be so selfish? For as long as I can remember, appearance was one of the most important things to my Lola. She would spend hours getting herself ready everyday; polished fingernails, makeup done just right, snazzy outfit, and not a hair out of place. Always on some new-fangled miracle diet to ensure she kept her girlish figure. Due to the lack of any food in her system, the hydrochloric acid started to break down her stomach lining instead.

And after having gone through months of Radiation and Chemotherapy, there was nothing more that could be done. The cancer was spreading and it seemed relentless; determined to finish what it started. 

            Thanksgiving 2008, rather than recovering from food comas, my family and I spent the day packing and picking up a few last minute items. Immediately after loading up people and luggage we hit the road. he visually breath-taking, yet all too familiar drive down Pacific Coast Highway 1 to Los Angeles International would be at least an hour so we had to get going. Mom, Lola, and my younger sister Laura’s flight to Manila was at 10pm and they had to be at Tom Bradley International by no later than 7pm. The car ride was long, silent and the tension was undeniably present. All my passengers stared intently out their windows to avoid conversation with one another, or even make eye contact.

            Resentment and anger oozed from my pores, and everyone did whatever they could to not set off the ticking time sitting behind the wheel. Did their flight have to be today? Are they really flying home without me? Does she really have cancer? Did she really let her vanity get this far? She was, and had always been a beautiful woman. She was the only person who didn’t see it!

            6:50, I merged onto the departure flights lane joining the throngs of cars in the maze better known as LAX. It was as if someone picked up the remote control of life and hit fast forward. Lanes were jam packed; confused first timers switching in and out being hollered at by airport employees in the right direction. On the sidewalk, bold pedestrians waiting with bags in tow, for an opportunity to make their way to the other side.

I pulled up to an unloading area just to the right of the terminal entrance because any closer would’ve been way too chaotic. All I wanted was to get these people and bags out of my car and go home. Redmond, my little brother, was the first hop out. We had to move quickly to avoid being scolded by airport police. Redmond and Laura ran to the back of the car to unload while I gathered some quarters to grab a luggage cart. After a few minutes of strategic cramming, we were able to get everything loaded up.

By now, Lola looked and moved like a partially deflated balloon. Her skin hung from her bones and she could only muster up enough energy slowly shuffle toward her destination. Bundled in what looked to be at least four layers of clothing and her head covered by a red beanie, I picked Lola up her seat in the car and helped her into a wheelchair. She was a lot heavier than she looked; her hand gripped one of my arms for stability. I was still fuming; I refused to look anyone in the eyes and nearly left without saying goodbye.

Just before getting into the car she called out to me, and as much as I didn’t want to, I turned back. She stood up from her wheelchair to hug me goodbye.

“Be good ha, I love you,” she said “you become a nurse, you’re smart enough.”

That was the first thing she had said to me in weeks! Ever since I found out about my grandma’s illness our relationship suffered. We very rarely spoke, and she would deliberately do things to push my buttons. I was angry at her for getting sick. I was fully convinced that it was something that she did to herself, and she was angry at me for feeling that way.

At that moment, a calm seemed to wash over me. I realized that I wasn’t angry at her, I was at the fact that she was dying and I didn’t know how to deal with it. She was, and will always be one of the most influential women in my life and the goal isn’t to become a nurse. It’s to carry out my grandmother’s last request.    

txting...

I very rarely use my phone for it's actual purpose. Monthly, I use less than 100 minutes of talk time. This is all thanks to texting. In fact, more often than not, I will ignore a person's phone then immediately text them afterward instead. There are specific reasons why I opt to text. One being the abilitly to multitask. If I've got my ear attached to my phone, it's really hard to do other things. For instance, say I'm sitting in my room listening to music while reading a magazine and I get a phone call. I have to pause my music, stop reading, and answer. That's no fun! Carrying on a conversation via text message allows me to do all three things simultaneously. Also, I think it's better for the other person because they don't get upset at you for not giving them your undivided attention. The other reason is because texting is a little impersonal. That may not sound awesome, but hey, it's the truth. It's much easier to text someone something that may be difficult to say in person. When I say that I don't mean break up with your significant other via text, but if you don't wanna hang out with someone on a particular day, text away. It's harder for someone to peer pressure you through a text message compared to over the phone or in person. One last thing, your mom sending a text message in all caps is waay better than being yelled at. haha  So in closing, I fully support text messaging. Just don't text apologies, (cause that's lame) and don't text while driving.

reality tv...

Voyeurism, in my opinion, is the reason why reality TV has been able to grab a hold of Americans by the nostrils and take them along for the ride. It’s like slowing down when you see a car accident, or walking out to your front yard at the sound of sirens. People like to know what other people are doing.

When people stop being polite… and start getting real. MTV’s hit show “The Real World” is my earliest memory of reality TV. The idea behind it was to see what it was like to have six strangers live, work, and play together for six months. Back then, it was such a new concept that the term reality show didn’t even exist. Although there are new seasons of “The Real World” premiering every few months, the vibe of the show now is a far cry from season one back in 1992. There is less focus on human interaction and the growth of friendships and relationships and so much more on sex, alcohol, and girl fights. For that reason alone, I’ve completely lost interest in watching the show and think it’s stupid that random 20-somethings get famous for being on TV partying and acting a fool. MTV also airs a show called “16 and Pregnant”. This show I have mixed feelings about. Yes, it can be an eye-opener for sexually active teenagers who don’t think that they can get pregnant or think that pregnancy is a fairytale, but other teenagers may see that show and think that it’s okay to be pregnant at such a young age. Hey, they may even become famous from it. Some reality shows aren’t even all that real. I mean, how many guys out there openly date 15 women simultaneously and have all the girls be kosher with it? No way man, so not real!

With that said, I can’t deny that I am still a fan of reality shows. There is such a cornucopia of options, how can they be avoided.?! Unlike shows that focus on stupid people doing stupid things, there are definitely reality shows out there with a greater purpose. Shows like Intervention or Addicted give us, the general public, a glimpse into the lives of people who deeply struggle with drug and alcohol addiction. The audience gets the opportunity to see what life is like perspective of the addicted person, but the people who are being documented are given the opportunity to fight their addictions and improve their lives. There are reality shows that build homes for families who’ve been through some hardship and even shows that teach you how to survive being stuck in the desert for a few days.

As for its affect on our society, there are both positives and negatives that come with this new genre of television. It seems as though negative behavior is rewarded with fame and money. This can influence younger generations who buy into that and cause them to act a fool too. Reality shows give us the opportunity to walk in someone else’s shoes for twenty-four minutes and they can amplify or break stereotypes. So, as long as the bad can be filtered out, reality TV can be both entertaining and educational. Just stay away from “Jersey Shores”