Of course I’m exaggerating but this video gives me lots of ideas.

Americans keep on asking us Asians (especially Filipinos), what’s with Spam? They told me they really don’t eat it and it’s usually the lower income people who just buy these in the US. I told them that our penchant for eating Spam has something to do with history and sociology more than its culinary characteristics.

I was told by elders that during World War II, Filipinos had no source of meat for years. When liberation time came, the relief goods that were parachuted from the sky contained Spam and corned beef. For people who had barely enough to eat, Spam was like luxury. My ex-father-in-law said that he was 13 years old when the relief boxes were dropped in their province and it was his first time to eat corned beef out of a can. And the experience was glorious. Since then he only ate corned beef straight out of a can, just like when he first tasted it.

But I digress.

So in the years following the war, Spam was still inaccessible to Filipinos since it was only manufactured in the US and imports were rarely sold in local supermarkets. Only those who had relatives in the US get to have Spam or those who are rich enough to fly to the US for holidays can buy it. Another way of getting the stuff is if you can get to Olongapo and buy it from the PX goods shops there. American servicemen who wanted to earn extra cash sell their personal supplies like soaps, shampoos, and canned goods to entrepreneurs outside the US bases in Pampanga (Clark Airbase) and Zambales (Subic Naval base). So in a way, having Spam in your pantry is like a status symbol then. I was not enamored of Spam like my brother because I didn’t grow up eating that. I remember having the Filipino luncheon meat (Gusto/Philips brand) or the Chinese one (Ma Ling) for breakfast. I think my brother had access to Spam because he stayed with my maternal grandpa during school holidays growing up and they always get canned goods from the US because half of the family lived there. And only special grandchildren get to have access to that–my brother was a favorite. He had chinky eyes like my grandpa.

I think this is the same reason why Okinawans had access to Spam–they have the American bases there. The Spam rice rolls and other sub-Japanese cuisine with Spam originated from there.

Later Spam became a regular in Filipino pantries across all economic classes after Purefoods San Miguel had formed a joint venture with Hormel and started manufacturing Spam locally. I have Spam in my pantry for emergencies, like when I run out of things to cook. I dice it to combine with fried rice and eggs. And now various ways of making onigiri.

Speaking of gimbap/rice rolls, I discovered this yummy condiment:

Roasted Ginger Sauce. I can’t remember how or where I got it from (SM Marikina? Or someone gave it to me?) but it doesn’t matter. I use this on gimbap, onigiri, or egg rolls. Heck, I can use it on everything. It’s lovely, I tell you.

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Today was basura day again. I did nothing but sleep–I literally slept all day, hence, I was a useless journo/editor again. I freaking don’t know why I was so tired. I tried sleeping early last night but I woke up at 3 am for some unknown reason and only managed to sleep at 5 am. I have to tell my doctor tomorrow that my body clock is messed up for weeks now. I HAVE A WEBINAR TOMORROW and a press conference and three stories to write. Damn it.

I’m still operating in a different time zone.

Will my doctor take me off alprazolam immediately? I don’t know. I don’t think this is withdrawal symptoms because I was fine before this. I think she can take me off alprazolam now since I have less anxiety caused by J or anything to do with him nowadays. That’s why I keep on writing memories of him here so I can let it all out and I won’t get triggered as much. It’s like building my immunity; similar to injecting myself with dead coronavirus. The best description I have of me now, save for the sleeping issues, is I’m placid.

And as long as I don’t see that girl on social media as well, I think I’m fine. I don’t know why a girl almost half my age can get to me like this. She’s not even pretty but heck she caused me so much pain and insecurity.

I’m still fixing myself.

It’s funny. It’s almost 14 months and it feels like it just happened yesterday. This is the longest and most difficult heartbreak I’ve had and it’s not something to be proud of. It’s unfair to me, too. Here he was, gallivanting and chasing after very young girls four months after our breakup (or maybe earlier, I dunno), while I wilted and died. It’s not about him moving on quickly that hurts–I already expected that because it’s in his personality. It’s chasing people in my circle is the the hateful part. It’s like an affront to me. Like he’s deliberately letting me know that, “Hey, I have moved on, Bitch, and she’s just like you, a journo but almost half your age.” I don’t know if he’s that dense that he has forgotten that I have introduced the girl to him after my company’s event and our trade organization’s event was just in the next ballroom (where we crashed the dinner and we were pretty drunk then). And maybe he underestimated how wide my network is.

Anyway, that’s all in the past. I’m trying to heal. Getting bogged down and killed TWICE was something for the books. I have to admit he did break me. I have to stop pretending that I didn’t break because the truth is I succumbed to alcohol and I realized I needed professional help to get me out of that dark hole. I was already drinking myself into oblivion, for goodness’ sake! Imbibing alcohol every night to help me sleep was a perfect road to self-destruction. Because of my children I had to get help–I’m all they got. My family has no idea what I was going through. They thought I was being introverted again and I was being my usual self that I wanted to stay away from them. It’s equivalent to my teenage self locking herself up in her bedroom to be away from them. Being very near family is sometimes toxic, too. That’s why I’m still unsure if moving back into my hometown is a wise decision.

But this is for my kids. I’m doing this for my kids.

So as K asked me one time, are you ready to face him if by accident you bump into each other? I said I don’t know but I’m bracing myself. Eventually, that may happen, either here in Manila or Singapore. Our world is small. But hopefully I’m already well by that time. I don’t have a mean bone in my body so the desire to get even is not there. I don’t want to melt as well and have all my defenses pulled down. I hope I’m over him by that time so I won’t fall or get affected negatively. I hope I’m healthier physically and mentally, too, by that time.

I’m getting better. I should get better.