The deconstruction of a quip

"Oh no she didn't!!" is apparently on the mouths of every Filipino ever since this past episode of Desperate Housewives. This is how it went down:

Doctor: Susan, I know for a lot of women that the word menopause has negative connotations. It says here "aging, brittle bones, loss of sexual desire..."
Susan: Okay, wait. Before we go any further, can I check those diplomas, because I would just like to make sure that they're not from some med school in the Philippines.

Racist? Ignorant? Offensive? Hells naw. Being a FilAm and former med school student wannabe, it's common knowledge that med school in the States is hard to get into, and if you are not smart/lucky enough, then you go overseas. The Caribbean and the PI are the two top options for FilAms such as myself.

Edit: It's so funny that just after I published this blog, my mom barges in and is asking me to change the channel to FOX News to watch Bill O'Reilly. His headlining debate: "Desperate Housewives vs. Filipino Med Schools."

And then this morning, every other friend of mine is joining some Facebook group that demands an apology from ABC for being so insensitive.

Seriously??!

You know, maybe if Filipinos wanted their med schools to be more high calibre, then maybe they should make it harder to get into. Graduate more high calibre people that can pass board exams in developed countries, and then maybe the quip may be more offensive.

People need to get over themselves and laugh a little more. How come that "Family Guy" can make a joke about Filipino men and everyone laughs, while Desperate Housewives makes a joke about medical degrees from the PI, and it's horror?

Poetic Compilation

so&so Haiku:
He called me again.
I ignored it, but I don't
think he understands.

bf limerick (lame, i know)
My boyfriend's 2 hours away
His workweek's all work and no play
I'm going to see him
At the start of the weekend
And we'll play all Saturday.

PS. Stop Calling Me

Dear So and So,
Perhaps it's my passive agressive nature, but I thought you'd get it by now. 5 calls. At least, 5 that came from your phone. Then there have been the calls from withheld numbers and numbers I didn't recognize. Thanks to you, I screen all unknown numbers. Since when did obsessive persistence become a virtue? I danced with you for five minutes in a club, and now you think we're bffs. You, in all your sobriety, took advantage of a clearly buzzed female and got her phone number, but by no means does that mean you're automatically in. I imagine that where you live must be extremely deprived of female life, that you must cling to the hopes that I will answer my phone.
Believe me, I felt guilt the next day when you called, and I felt guilt when I ignored your call the first two times. Now, I am pissed off. Obviously, I do not want to talk to you. No, not even for your bribes of free hip-hop dance lessons and whatnot. Not even for 1 million dollars would I endure your bipolar communicative skills. Well... maybe I would, but for 1 million dollars, I would also roll around naked in pig squalor.
I've already deleted pictures of you from my camera, and the only reason I have your number still in my phone is so that I can identify your call and avoid you like Britney Spears actively avoids sanity. I've learned my lesson: no more giving out any contact information, and no more dancing with ugly strangers. No more. No more.