The summary of life.

Toilet - CR in the Philippines

When I was in college, I remembered a teacher of mine saying that it's weird how Filipinos call the bathroom or the toilet "CR". CR stands for Comfort Room. We are the only race in the world who calls the toilet, CR. If you go to any other country, no one could help you locate or point you to a toilet unless you use the term toilet. But if you're in the Philippines, just ask anyone! Even if you're in a far flung baranggay in the middle of a mountain, just say "CR", and you're sure that they'll point you to one - just don't expect that all of them have flushes.

Ever wonder why it's called that - CR? Maybe it's called such because a person can do the things here which he wouldn't normally do in public.

You know how some people pick their teeth here if there's no way he/she can do that in a restaurant, in front of his/her companion? Or powder for some girls, powder their faces, put on their lipstick, or just fix their hair because it's unladylike to do so in public? But ever wonder why? Social etiquette? Why aren't we bothered to do those things in the public toilet or CR as we Filipinos call it when the people we are with in the CR are the very same people we are with outside it? We can do all those nasty things inside the CR and feel less guilty when we are with the same people outside it?

Hmm...

For the new generation, there is a term they call CR moments. During this time, the teenagers take their pictures in the CR, either in front of a huge mirror (which is often the case) or not.

I think that for us Filipinos, CR is a more appropriate term for the toilet. Who knows what next will we think of other uses for the toilet aside form mother nature calling us.

weird dream

Have you ever had a dream that felt so real? I mean, if you were flying, you'd really feel the wind in your face, if you were soaking wet, you'd really feel wet.

I had a dream a few nights ago and like any other dreams, out was outrageous and surreal.

I remember me, sitting in the cockpit, looking at the runway. Well I guess it was the pilot's point of view. The pilot was in some kind of dilemma. The runway was in a form of a bridge - the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge was in a ruin and collapsing. The pilot decided to go on with the flight anyway - with every confidence that he can make this flight a success. The stewardess doubts it.

As the stewardess predicted, the plane crashed.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in one of the passenger seats, beside a friend of mine. Like popcorn, the movie Passengers sprang into my mind. I panicked. My friend was doing his best to calm me down and make me crouch down for safety. I started to look for my other friends but I couldn't find them. I wondered where they were. Soon, I crouched into a small ball but before that, all I saw were flames in front of me, all I can hear were the screams of the other passengers. They were screams of pain and fear.

My friend was holding my back and I was closing my eyes as hard as I can, hoping that all of this will go away - it didn't. Next, I felt the heat of the flames touching my legs, I screamed of pain and fear of the inevitable. I was going to die! I thought of running to the back of the plane, thinking that I might find some kind of escape. I didn't, I couldn't. I felt my shins burning and all I could do was just scream.

And I woke up.

My heart was beating so fast. I was breathing fast and shallow. I was still alive.

It's weird how real dreams can be.