This Is Why You Need To Sleep

Dear blog, I missed you.

Vacation's been kind of fun (from a bum's perspective, that is), but with school looming back into the picture, I think I'm cracking from the stress. There's so much to be done and seemingly so little I can do about it. Seriously, I've been staring--intently--at those journals for 30-minute periods over the course of three days. I don't know if I'm just plain lazy, but well, I have been itching to get started on that damn literature review. I just find I have insufficient information, that's it.

Hence, I've taken to blogging again. Fat lot of help for my group mates. Haha. I didn't blog at all for Christmas since it wasn't much of an affair this year, but expect a year-ender by tomorrow or by early next year if my mood--and my ever-looming deadlines--allow it.

  Me on Christmas Eve.

What other news is there? Well, I've also been pretty depressed lately, I guess. Surprisingly, I'm a bit more off than last year, with all the single-ness drama I was pulling. This year seems sadder, I don't really know.

No scratch that. Actually, I do know why. It's an abstract concept, nonetheless it's been keeping me awake for the past couple of days. I've been having trouble sleeping again. So for those of you who may have noticed how...different I am lately--well you know why. Not so worried about that though, I roll fine with depression. It'll pass quickly enough. In the mean time I just try to stay away from people so I don't drown them in my misery. Haha.

Probably the main reason why my season's been so lousy is the absence of something to look forward to. And I mean something positive. Sure, deadlines are things to look forward to--along with graded recitations on articles I have yet to read, and the paperwork waiting for me when I get back to school. I just need something to spark some excitement, some drive.

WARNING: The following paragraph is too depressive for the season. You may want to skip it.

The thing is, starting a new year with the same old setup isn't an exciting prospect. I'm sorry, but towards the end of this year things have just been so static and lame. And in these sleep-deprived, work-anxious yet boring hours, it's hard to hope that things will change for my definition of better just because it's the new year. The bad vibes couldn't spare Christmas. Will the new year be any different?

So anyway, I meant for this to be a short entry, not a two-page wallow-in-misery thing. I'll stop now, find something to eat, and cheer myself up however. Got to keep going. *Toodles*

In the words of Natasha Bedingfield: I [am] pocketful of sunshine.

The comic strips are from Garfield Minus Garfield. Never knew it would be that depressing without the cat.

Something's Mi si g

You can ignore this post, doesn't make any real sense, well maybe except for me.

So I've been perpetually hungry and restless and all that. I have about 5 movies waiting to be watched, 7 and a half of the Demonata books to read, and some Chuck Palahniuk ebooks to try out too. I have several games on this laptop, from Plants Vs. Zombies to The Sims 3. I have cable TV. I have a guitar, and several gigabytes of downloaded songs in my hard drive. We have a refrigerator, which my mom has wisely stocked with an assortment of snacks. I have my Facebook account, my Plurk page, and I have enough cell phone credits to last me for the week. I have one or two friends nearby whom I can call to invite out, or crash with. To say that I've laid out some boredom-prevention methods is quite an understatement.

And yet, I'm fidgety. I can't sit still long enough to get anything done. Whether I'm reading or playing or watching TV, I can't seem to stop myself from getting up every ten minutes, heading downstairs to the refrigerator. I open it, stare at its contents, craving for something I just can't define. I grab one snack or another, and then halfway through finishing my food I decide it's not really what I wanted.

I can't believe it took days and a Facebook post to figure it out.

Maybe it's because this has been going on for a while, that I'd somehow assumed I was used to it. But now it's getting to me once again. Maybe it's because of the break, a time when I don't have school to worry about, or  idyllic tambay hours to fill my day. Maybe it's that Christmas is just around the proverbial corner, and everyone talks about being with the people they love, the people they care about—the people that matter.

Maybe it's because I've had to say goodbye in different ways to a couple of people just recently. And probably because there's someone I've been wanting to be with for so long now.

I might have a lot here, it's a good life. But something's missing—aside from cash of course. Haha. Seriously though, sappy as it is—I'm missing you, and you, and you, and most of all, YOU.

Raiding the fridge is my way of showing you how much I really care.

Photo shamelessly stolen from Definitely Filipino.

 To all the people I miss (whether you're halfway around the world, or just 30 minutes away from my house), and to all who share this feeling of missing, let's still keep Christmas merry okay?

All right, I'm going back to reading now. No wait, lemme check the fridge first.

Post Drinking Session Dissonance

As I've learned in my interpersonal communication class, there is this thing called post-decision dissonance. If I've learned anything right in class, this simply pertains to the doubts one encounters after making a particular decision. This is usually where rationalization kicks in, and you find that you're defending yourself against, well, your own arguments. Happens to all of us, doesn't it?

In class, we were given the compulsive shopper example. But since I am among the rare subspecies of females/human beings in general who do not derive utter joy from draining my wallet in one shopping session--I'm more of the type who takes light years to decide on whether or not to buy even just a shirt--I really couldn't relate to it. Last Thursday night/Friday morning though, I realized that I might have found another common illustration.

You've probably heard of the Latin phrase in vino veritas, translated in English as in wine there is [the] truth. The most common explanation for why people do the stupid things they do when they're drunk is that it's their natural self coming out, with all their repressions thrown out the window.

Cuervo not included in this shot.

After all, it's so easy to say "oh, I was drunk, I didn't even know half of what I said". I don't know, but I'm still pretty unsure about that one. I'm certainly no expert when it comes to drinking. Sure, I might forget more than half of what I say when I'm drunk, but the things I do remember, well, they are all true.

Case in point: so I got emo-drunk at our batch party and I ended up doing a monologue of sorts. It's all hazy, but thinking back I realized that a lot of the things I said were honest as hell and that it was the first time I had ever shared those kinds of thoughts to a group of people I barely knew.

 

I know the alcohol had probably killed way too much of my repressive brain cells at the time, but I don't lay the blame on it entirely. I know I made a conscious decision to start talking, and I know for a fact I was still able to filter what needed to be filtered (well, with some people anyway).

So I don't know. Maybe alcohol is what leads us to betray ourselves. But we shouldn't absolve ourselves from all responsibility for the things we do or say. (Unless, perhaps, you've drunk enough to be in a coma, but  then at that point you can't really do or say anything, so nevermind).

The thing is, we wouldn't even have to worry about this if we weren't hiding so many things in the first place. As for myself, I was embarrassing, but ask me right now and I can tell you the exact things I shared that morning. I wasn't really hiding them, just not so keen on sharing them to everyone.

But seeing that the world is so full of people who are so good at hiding and not expressing what they really feel, maybe we should all hold a worldwide drinking session so we can let it out. I'm kidding, of course. I'm pretty sure that would do more harm than good--imagine learning that your best friend is harboring some secret desire for your mom or something like that.

All I'm saying is that, if it's not really criminal, abhorrently immoral, or devastatingly hurtful, try letting it out. Don't wait for the empty bottles to betray you into spilling what you've kept  bottled in for so long.

Cheers to a Merry Christmas folks.

And regards from me and my drinking buddies. They'll hate me for this. Hahaha.

CREDITS: All photos in this post (and in the one before this, too) are courtesy of Ria Landingin.

December-Ender

Yay it's Christmas! Well, not really, but it's the Christmas break for me anyway, and I've managed to start it in the craziest way possible. Since I'm too lazy for any kind of story telling, I'll just give you a quick rundown of my school December-ender.

There was the UP Manila Lantern Parade, most of which involved running along the streets and chanting my lungs out. I'd hoped to attend the parade with my ComSci friends this year, but due to some last-minute night out planning and a general feeling of laziness, I ended up going alone. Fortunately I met up with an OrCom friend and we had a couple of hours of lantern parade fun. Our college never wins, but well, I love CAS all the same.

I didn't even get to finish the parade since we had to leave for Pateros, where we held our OrCom batch Christmas party. Turned out to be one epic night. I can't really go into any details for the sake of our reputations. Suffice it to say that we spent the night (and the wee hours of the morning) having mini-concerts and embarrassing ourselves in ways we never even thought we knew how. Watch out for my next post for my personal experience about this. Hahaha.

This batch is love.

The last few moments of the morning were a blur for me, all I know is I woke up at noon with nearly all my batch mates gone. I ate a very late lunch at my friend's house, then set off to find my way home and got lost on the jeepney ride from Pateros to Guadalupe. I missed my stop and went on a round trip with the super-friendly driver, Manong Vicente. We sort of bonded and I think I gained myself a new friend, as well as a tour of Kalayaan Avenue and the Guadalupe Makati area.

What else can I say, except it was a pretty good way to end the year with my school friends. Sometimes, my life is just awesome.

The Flip Side of My Pillow

Oh boy did I miss my blog. This time the hiatus wasn't due to any introspective revelations or personal issues and all that shit. Simply put, I am now officially an OrCom major. With just about a month since sem break, I  already have reams of photocopied reading materials, deeper-than-ever eye bags, and loads of papers and reports coming up. But hey, it's the life I chose. Apparently there's just no avoiding stress in my life, so I'd just go for the stress I love. No quitting now. This is really it.

Aside from trying to study seriously I've also been busy tying to build relationships with the new people around me, and maintaining the ones I already have. I guess it's been good, although I really need to bond more with my batch mates. Will make sure to get to that this sem.

Other than that there's nothing very new on my end. Well, other than my regular haircut (which my mom still hates), and a renewed state of poverty--the likes of which I haven't experienced in months. I'm broke as ever. But well, life goes on.

So let's go to today. Today is a lazy day. I wanted to go out but I decided against it, and as a result I'm stuck home in a restless, perpetually hungry sort of state. I can't even sit still to finish this movie I'm watching, and  I don't know if that's due to the fact that I've downed two cans of Coke Zero and too much chocolate in the last three hours.

I don't know. I think I'm supposed to be worrying about something right now, but incredibly, I'm not. I don't know if it's just the Christmas chill in the air (this, by the way, is my favorite kind of weather), but I feel hopeful. I feel as if life is just chock-full of possibilities at this point.

Sure, I've got problems. I'm the kind of person who never seems to run out of them, mostly because I like to make them. But at this moment, I think things will either settle, or fall apart so something better can come together. And that's all right with me.

On second thought, maybe this is just the Coke Zero talking. Oh well. ;)

FAIL Better

I've been gone for another while. My apologies, life kind of got in the way. Academic life, I mean. The last week of my sem was a seemingly endless downpour of papers, papers, and some more papers. Luckily, I got through it, and now I have more or less a week and a half before I have to go back to the toxic, mind bending UPM life.

I miss it already, actually. I'm not exactly a workaholic, but I could manage a week of staring at a computer screen, reading, shit-talking my way through papers, and gulping down bottle after bottle of Lipovitan. But I can't quite deal with hours and hours of nothing to do, no one to go out with, and everything to think about. Movies, every TV series I could think of, endless games—I'm just so tired of it. I've been meaning to write, but I've been putting it off, since my brain felt literally exhausted. I felt like I ran out of words for a while.

And then there's this other thing. I've been thinking about me, my relationships. Well, one in particular. Lately, I've been putting such a strain on the person I value most, and it's because of this irrationally insecure side of me that I can't ditch. I've been so busy comparing myself to others—and thinking about how I don't even come close—that I've quit trying.

That's part of the reason why I haven't blogged for so long too. I felt like I didn't have anything good enough to say, so I didn't even start. I don't know why I'm like this with the people—and things—that I love most. I want so much to be the best that it feels like an all or nothing deal. I keep on waiting for the right time, for when it's all perfect and proceeding according to plan.

Who am I kidding? That's never going to happen.

Let's face it. Life is unfair. I'm never going to get that edge. I'm going to have to earn it. I'll just have to keep trying—and die trying if I need to. So, I'm still a failure. I'm not great; hell I'm not even good.

But I think, that nobody is perfect, really. And the few people who seem have it all good are bastards who managed to grab all the luck. Haha. But really,  I don't take it against them. For us normal people, failure is a fact of life. So if you're not failing, you're probably not even trying enough. Live a little. Try and fail some more.

  Just keep swimming. Or something like it.

And besides, there are just some things (and, say, a certain person who happens to be YOU), that I love too much to quit on. So I'm back. Yeah, you know what I mean.

Where Are You Going?

Don't hide away like an ocean
that you can't see but you can smell
And the sound of the waves crash down

I've gone missing for a few days, for two main reasons. One is that our internet connection sucks bigtime. Haha. It was down for two days, hence my social networks have all been abandoned.

Reason number two is that I've taken to volunteering in the past three days. Since Tuesday, I've been in UP Manila, repacking goods for distribution to Cainta tomorrow. It's sad that my parents didn't allow me to volunteer for deployment. But well, I'm glad I was able to make the most out of my week-long break. Unfortunately, making the most out of my week does not include finishing (or even starting on) any of my academic requirements. Am gonna have to cram during the weekend after all. *Sigh*

* * * * *

After a particularly dragging (and ever so slightly awkward), but fulfilling day in school, I went straight to watch and help set up for a gig somewhere in Makati. It was more of tambay time than helping out. I went there to clear my head, but as usual, I couldn't squeeze an ounce of insight from Borgs and his band mates. At least the music was great.

Among the songs, one in particular stuck. Actually, I've been loving Dave Matthews Band's Where Are You Going for a couple of days now. Hearing that song tonight (or last night) made me think about the thousands of homeless people affected by the typhoon, with nowhere to go. I watch the news every evening when I can, and it's tough to see the devastation that Ondoy has brought about. Rebuilding a nation, both physically and psychologically is a tough task. But as they've said, we are a resilient people. We'll make it through this challenge, just like we've made it through everything else.

If along the way, you are growing weary,
you can rest with me until a brighter day

On a personal note (yes, this is my blog and my ego dictates that everything has to have something to do with me), I guess the song title is a question I've been asking myself lately. No, I'm not confused. Yeah, I'm sure I'm not confused. I'm just wandering around.

Where are you going? Where do you go?
Are you looking for answers, for reasons under the stars?

This is a little dilemma brought about again by the fact that I like to think ahead. I hate how when I find myself one place, I feel the need to know why I'm there, and where I'm headed next. The computer scientist in me loves algorithms and a logical sequence of events. But life is just so effing crazy, and not everything has logic in it. I want to stop thinking, planning, and figuring out and just live everyday instead.

I am no Superman, I have no reasons for you
I am no hero, oh, that's for sure

So maybe I'm giving spontaneity a try, and it's turning out to be good. I just need to get used to not having such a tight grip on everything and everyone for once. Thus my current motto is simple: LOOSEN UP.

But I do know one thing, where you are is where I belong
I do know where you go, is where I want to be

*Incoherent post, I apologize. My brain cells aren't quite working right.

Define Disaster

Saturday morning was dark and rainy. I woke up after 3 solid hours of sleep and started preparing for the UP Manila Organizational Communication 25th anniversary conference.

And the next 24 hours turned out to be one of the weirdest days of my life.

I got to school early, as my dad took pity on me and gave me a ride. The conference was good, and it was nice to listen to the speakers. But even as the conference was ongoing, we were already receiving news from outside about the flood. By 11 a.m. the water level in Pedro Gil was waist-high. I had also received news from home that floodwater had entered the car and our house--a first since we moved here 11 years ago.

After the conference, all of us were stranded. There were 8 of us in the group--Dien, Jaypee, Chris, Eunice, Monica, Brian, Jhama, and I--all OrCom shiftees. We didn't have anything to eat in school, so we decided to brave the knee-deep waters of Padre Faura to get to Rob. When we arrived, half of the stores were either closed or closing. We hit the department store because my companions needed to buy slippers. Luckily, I had a pair in my bag. How I wished I'd packed extra clothes as well.

CAS Parking Lot and Oblation Garden

After a long debate on where to eat, we settled for Shakey's. We had lunch at 3:00 p.m. and killed time until 6 at the restaurant because we didn't know where else to go. By around 7 p.m. we all wanted to go home. Jhama hitched a ride with a friend (but they were stranded for hours on the road), and the rest of us wanted to get to UN to take the train or to Monica's dorm. The water was so deep by then and the handful of vehicles passing through generated monster waves so we stopped over at CAS where we learned that people were sleeping over, so the 6 of us decided to stay, while Monica braved the flood to get to her dorm.

The sleepover was generally fun. Jaypee and Brian went out to buy supplies (i.e., toothbrushes, soap, clothes, etc.). I opted to sleep in my slacks, turtleneck top, and blazer. Aside from RH looking more like a refugee camp than anything else, we were okay. We ate countless packs of pizza-flavored Baked Sticks (they were a sponsor for the OrCom conference). Baked Sticks while waiting for dinner, Baked Sticks as a midnight snack, Baked Sticks for breakfast. I swear, we had a lifetime supply. I don't think I even want to see a pack of those corn snacks within the next few months.

We stayed in a room with the 3rd year OrCom, which were a fun bunch. They watched a movie and played games. We talked and took pictures and tried to sleep as best as we could on wooden armchairs. Power went off at around 2 a.m. but was quickly restored. At around 3, my neck was burning from my awkward position, and the floor was too cold to lie on. I got some decent shuteye at the RH lobby, when Brian and I decided to sleep on the benches.

This morning, I woke up at 6 only to find out that RH was a dead spot for Sun, and I got news from home that the waist-high floodwater had receded at around 8. I decided that I couldn't wait any longer and made it to the LRT. Even in the morning, the knee-deep water along Taft is scary. One particular bus spectacularly splashed me with a flood-water wave and I was so disgusted that the corporate attire I had been wearing for more than 24 hours was now splattered with sickly-green floodwater. But I made it home, helped with the cleanup, collapsed into a 4-hour sleep, I think, and finally had my bath.

So thank you to the people who made this otherwise horrible experience fun for me. To my shiftee friends mentioned above, for the Ultimate Bonding Experience, as well as the OrCom people for the instant sleepover; to the CAS guards and the DAC faculty--Madame Mikee Inton, Ms. Anna Aclan, Mr. Jan Bernadas, Prof. Chadwick Sy Su, Ma'am Adeva, Ma'am Pulumbarit, Dr. Bautista, and the rest whom I might have forgotten--for checking in on us, and for the people who kept me company through text (aside from my parents who were concerned and nagging at the same time).

What a day. It was some adventure, but that was nothing compared to what other Filipinos are experiencing right now. A lot of areas are still submerged in flood, there have been landslides, and people are missing. Let's all reach out to help and pray for the victims of Ondoy.

And for my kapwa Pinoys, we really can't blame nature for this. A lot of this is our fault, so let's stop illegal logging, littering on the streets, and even spitting just about anywhere. This country is all we have, why can't we seem to take care of it?

UPDATE:
For those who want to help,
here's a list of some organizations you may contact.
For my schoolmates, the CAS SC and other orgs are collecting donations.

Partly Cloudy

Two minutes before I'm set to leave and I decide that I want to blog.

I've been so unpredictable lately, a lot like the freaking weather. It's scorching sunlight one minute and torrential downpours the next. It's been ruining my outfits, haha. I don't even know what to wear anymore, and my bag contains more of my wardrobe than my school stuff--shades, a pair of slippers in case it floods, and a jacket. Yes, unpredictable like the weather. So unpredictable that even I don't know what to expect from me anymore.

I'd rather not go into the details of my life right now, as I'm tired of my stories--and so are the people whom I've been dumping on for the last two weeks (thanks friends). If anything must be said about my life, it's pretty fine. Steady progress. I'm actually starting to feel the demands of schoolwork, the unique pressure that only the last weeks of a semester can impose on a student. Yeah, I'm looking forward to sem break and I want to get things over with.

Oh, and yeah, I've been tumbling too. Visit it if you want. I'm just reblogging stuff all the time anyway.

So there. Hello life. I'm generally at peace with it and with myself right now, save for the questions that I can't help but ask sometimes. Mostly they start with why. But hey, no use in beating myself over it. I still hate not understanding, but over the last couple of years I've learned to accept the fact that there are some questions you'll never get the answers to. And some questions you don't want to know the answers to, as well.

So I'm fine with lazy afternoons like this one--watching a blinding setting sun that reminds me of the Little Prince though my bedroom window, or some place where I'm hanging out. John Mayer, The Weepies, Dave Matthews Band, and the Goo Goo Dolls are singing to me, while my head feels heavy and drunken with thoughts I don't feel the need to think about. I just let them float around.

Me too. I'm still afloat, and I'm perfectly fine. And the world spins madly on.

Under The Spotlight

Everything has to start from somewhere. So where do I start?

Well, I'm starting to go on TV series binges. Gossip Girl Season 3 is airing, both in the US and on cable TV here, but since my dad is monopolizing the boob-tube most of the time, I'm once again taking advantage of this little thing they call the "torrent". Haha. Oh, and yeah, I watch Gossip Girl. So gay, I know, especially for me. It was a former friend's fault. And apparently I found Gossip Girl so good I'm still watching it long after that person and I stopped talking. Talk about bitter endings. [Hey, if you happen to drop by, I kind of miss being friends with you. I'm serious.] But what the hell. Let sleeping dogs lie and eventually die.

I have also fallen in love with this amazing fabulous series called GLEE, courtesy of my girlfriend. Can't get enough of it. It's a musical. And apparently everyone in the series sings. It really is great--it's the kind that makes you want to sing and dance along. They make Kanye West (yeah, that jackass, as Obama said) sound good. Trust me. YOU HAVE TO WATCH IT.

Watch. Now.

I just finished watching the third episode a while ago. And it was all about confidence. It got to me, I guess. You see, I kind of have to do an intermission number for an org event in school. I'm still hoping they find someone else, because I have no idea why I said yes. I haven't seriously sung in public in years and I think I've developed a bad case of stage fright.

Or maybe it's just a lack of confidence. The thing is, singing is just one thing. I just have an issue of sorts--let's just say I'm not secure as I should be. There's always this feeling that I can't get past mediocrity. With everything. With music, with writing, with my relationships with people. Whatever I have, whatever I give--just not enough. Okay lang, puwede na. But never really that good.

I don't know why I got to feeling this way. Or maybe I do, but I'm not sure. Funny thing is, writing about it feels weird. It's not like those issues that people have that they repress, or that happens subconsciously and they never admit it. I know and I'm telling the whole world wide web. But why can't I seem to do anything about it?

All the world's a stage, as good old Shakespeare says. And apparently I've lost my stage presence. When I'm up there, or just here, I see people looking at me, waiting. They're waiting for me to do my thing, and they're expecting it to be good. I feel like I don't have the right to screw up. Which, in retrospect, is one of the things that make me screw up.

I have to find it. Just don't know where or how, but I know I don't want to stay scared. The world is a stage, and hell, I wanna be a rock star.

On Routines And More Routines

Yesterday was the UAAP Cheerdance Competition. I was supposed to be reviewing for this morning's exam, but well, it's always easier to choose watching a cheerdance competition over staring at piles of photocopied papers. Haha. It was a good competition, sayang lang nag-third ang UP Pep. FEU came in first with 86.1%, Ateneo was first runner up with 83.4%, and UP Pep ranked third with 83.1%. I later learned that 6 points were deducted from UP's score--5 points for an error in the pyramid and 1 point for the Ikot jeepney which was ever so slightly inside the border at one point. But well, they had a great routine, and a magical transforming jeepney. Haha. And the execution was almost perfect. I will forever be in awe of UP Pep.

In case you missed it, well, boo you. Just kidding. Watch it now.



Another sayang, in my opinion was the UST Salinggawi Dance Troupe. The slip-ups were a little more noticeable, but they had a daring routine this year. I loved the Shiva-ish thing they did, the effect was really cool. I'd really rather that UP lost to them, because in my opinion the two teams were on a level of their own.

I was unimpressed with the Ateneo Blue Babble Battalion's performance--okay fine, the moonwalk was fun--but I'd have to admit they were incredibly clean this year. But still, maybe next year they could step things up a bit.

Same goes for the champions, the FEU Tamaraws, now also known as the Chickens. Haha, don't hate me FEU students. It was a very colorful Sarimanok. But perhaps you could explain the relevance to me? Simple and clean did the job. Congratulations.

I guess that's what you get when gymnastics people invade the panel of judges. They'll go for the more predictable but clean moves, rather than innovation with a few errors.

Which brings me to another topic, i.e., my life and its utter dullness. You might want to skip this part. This is not a feel-good post.

All I really have to say is, I'm tired of my simple and clean routine of a life. And because words are failing me right now, let me illustrate with this flowchart.

Fig.1. How To Be Rz For A Day (click to view full)

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Because Lemony Snicket Is A Wise, Wise Man

Oftentimes, when people are miserable, they will want to make other people miserable, too. But it never helps. -Lemony Snicket

I haven't actually read A Series of Unfortunate Events, except for half of The Reptile Room which I read in Powerbooks Rob during one particularly boring long break. But I have a friend who has a book with quotes in it, and he loves to send me some. And so I fell in love with the wisdom of Lemony Snicket.

Anyway, that quote above talks about what I've been thinking about lately--how some people just love to make others miserable. I can't say I'm not guilty of indulging in misery--as the person who knows me best says, I do have a habit of making myself out to be more miserable than anyone so I don't get blamed for something which is really partly--or maybe wholly--my fault. See, I'm a bad person sometimes.

Sure, I love to complain. It's always easier to write, or tell stories when you have something to complain about. But I know how misery feels, so on an average, give me a day or two--two weeks, tops--and I'll throw it away and we can live our lives normally again.

I did that once, just stacked 'em all little chunks of misery up. It ruined my relationship and made me a very, very insecure person. I had to reevaluate who I was trying to be, and who I really was. All because I couldn't let it go. So I've long since learned that it's an awful thing to pack your misery in a bag and drag it along for the rest of your life.

So let it go. Just toss it away. Give yourself and the people around you the break you all need.

Misery is like a dead rat--until you throw it away it will ruin the day for you and for everyone else within a 10 feet radius. They might end up moving away to avoid the awful odor, and who in the world wants to be left alone with a dead rat?

Nope, not me. That's for sure.

The Great Preemptor

I feel so sick. Not emo sick, it's just that my throat hurts and I think I'm coming down with the flu. Thus I am using it as an excuse to be lazy. Last night, after reading Rizal's On The Indolence Of The Filipinos, I decided not to do the paper. Indolence is necessary naman daw eh. [Original argument: it's a tropical country and it we can't work in the sun the whole day.] Now I realize that the sun was not yet out at the time that I was attempting to do the paper, but hey. Anything for an excuse to waste my time on Facebook instead of being productive.

Aside from being lazy, I think I also do these kinds of things because I am the master of the preemptive strike. This is mostly because I am extremely apprehensive. I always try to think ahead, to have a Plan A and B at the very least. Throw me into any situation and my brain will, by default, think fast. Or at least, as fast as it can, in order to come up with a plan, no matter how trivial.

With this comes certain insecurities or whatever they are--the point is that, sometimes, in the process of thinking ahead, I just get the feeling that I can't do something. Then I think it over, then--most of the time--I drop the effort.

Exhibit A : PI100 paper. I knew my brain was not in the proper state for analyzing those five chapters and coming up with something coherent. No, I wasn't going grade conscious over it, I'm just fussy. Especially with writing. It's kind of all I have, you know. It's basically the only thing I can humbly say I know how to do. So when I write, I try not to shit-talk my way out of it (except in desperate cases, such as mind-bending STS essay exams). I may not be brilliant, but I like to try harder every time. Hence, I opted to pass the paper late. Maybe next week, if I don't forget. Haha.

Exhibit B: Dropping galore. Last last sem, when I made the decision to shift courses, I dropped seven motherfreaking units. That was seven thousand pesos' (and more, for the lab fees) worth of Chemistry and Computer Science subjects. Obviously, my parents were not the happiest people on earth at that time. But my begging and OrCom sales talk worked, and so I went from 21 units to an all-time low of 14 units. I was afraid I'd either fail, or have a stress-induced breakdown in the process of trying to pass. Later on, they all told me that I would've passed anyway, and that it was sayang. A waste of money, and a waste of an otherwise unblemished transcript. But I don't really regret it. I still am convinced that it saved me from a nervous breakdown (my whole life was just a pile of you-know-what at the time), and that it also saved my GWA from another bunch of 3's.

I also quit on people. I give up on establishing relationships when I know that it will just ultimately be screwed up. I quit on people who refuse to even try. And I quit when I sense that I'm forcing myself on them.

I'm going to hit you now, just in case you plan to hit me later.

So there, I'm a quitter. I know they say winners never quit, and quitters never win, but I don't know if the person who said that ever tried Chem14 or CS123. And even if they did, to hell with that. I'm a quitter. I'd love to try and make it, but I'd rather quit than not be able to deliver. It's not that I'm afraid of failure--I'm getting better at it, actually--just that I believe that not everything is worth the struggle. Some things; some people, maybe. But not all.

I realize that living life with a disclaimer on one hand and an eject button on the other isn't exactly the best way to go about it, but until I figure out a better way, I'm sticking to this plan.

Out Of The Hermitage

An update for the sake of updating. Let's begin the month with stories about how the last month ended. Mind you, I'm doing this because I can't sleep, and Facebook won't let me upload a new picture, and I'm too lazy too start my PI100 paper. And all that shit. Anyway, here goes.

Remember when I was ranting about not having friends? I bet you do, since it's only a couple of posts below this one, actually. Well, last week I decided to step out of the hermitage (otherwise known as my room) and start talking to real people. More or less turned out well.

• Wednesday was spent with new company, and it was fun, as well as slightly embarrassing.
• Thursday was the JMA acquaintance party, which was just great--I got to meet new people and hurt my backside being pushed into the pool all in one evening (I don't know why people just love to pitch me into pools. Maybe it's because they know I don't know how to swim and it's their way of getting rid of me.).
• Friday was spent in the company of my shiftee "blockmates". I'm glad we're bonding now, and we're all for spending more time to get to know each other. To be honest, I was apprehensive about being a shiftee at the start. It's not exactly easy for me to start another whole getting-to-know-you process after two years in college. And no one can really ever replace one's blockmates, you know what I mean? But I'm glad to have my new friends. I think we're going to have a great two and a half years together.
• Saturday was spent with Iehl, whom I never see enough of. We went window shopping around Rob--an art (I guess?) which I only got the hang of in college. Yeah, you get that when you have three almost-shopaholic friends. Or girl friends, for that matter. Oh boy, do I miss the way things were. There, I said it. Anyway.
• Sunday was bonding time with my sister. My parents decided to tag us along on their night out at San Miguel by the Bay, where I learned never to order full meals at Razon's again (except possibly, for their dinuguan and sisig). Not wanting to be stuck with my parents' friends, we hit MOA and walked in and out of shops, until they started closing. I really have to take my sister out sometime. She's more of a hermit than I am.

Now if you're wondering why spending time out with people is such a big deal for me, let me explain that I'm not an alien, nor a total socially-inadequate nerd. It's just that I used to be so introverted, that I never thought I needed to go out that much. In fact, I tended to shy away from people I wasn't really familiar with. Ever since I started college--and even more now that I'm in OrCom--I've decided to start relating more to people. And I'm actually enjoying it.

Now all I want is a date. I hope Wednesday finally falls through. It's been weeks, so you can't blame me for missing you too much, can you?

There will always be the part of me that's perfectly fine being left alone, but I'm down for company now, too. So, sinong gustong tumambay?

...And Back

[now continued. See, I work fast. Haha.]

Exhibit B (Where I really just want to make kuwento.)

Today (or yesterday), was a freaking busy day. I spent a grand total of 11 hours in school. Two classes, a lunch date, and a seminar.

By 8:30a.m., I wasn't really in school. I was rattling away to U.N. Avenue on the LRT. I came in late, but got lucky because our professor was late too. After the class I chattered Monica's eardrums out (she's a co-OrCom shiftee of mine) for an hour and a half. Then we met up with the other shiftees--Jaypee, Dien, Jorge, and Kye--for a lunch date. We went to KFC and shared stories over the various chicken dishes.

By around 1, we were back in CAS, with Eunice too (another transferee), for the OrComSoc seminar on Events Organizing. More chismisan for us, but definitely a lot more knowledge. I managed to pick up handfuls of useful information and tips about the exciting, exhilarating, enticing world of Events Organizing. TeamAsia founder and president Ms. Monette Iturralde-Hamlin talked about Strategic Planning. There was also Ms. Marcie Linao, marketing group head of Summit Media on Events Marketing. Last was Brainbox Company Inc. creative director, Ms. Lynnette Buenafe on Events Execution. It was really informative, and while I'm still dead set on a career in advertising, events isn't out of the running anymore.

By 4, we were at the library, chattering some more, until Jorge had to go home, then Eunice and I had to go to class, for the debate which Jaypee decided to watch. Yeah, DS128. The usual. A good debate, and all that.

I made the mistake of taking the LRT home. It was so jam-packed that I had to let two trains just pass by before I decided I could squeeze in on the third (or was it the fourth?) Anyway, my legs died in there and then the traffic delayed my trip home some more, and then--finally, oh finally--I was home. Guess what? Manok din yung ulam.

* * * * *

So anyway. Long day, long story. My point is, so maybe I'm not exactly bipolar--maybe I'm just a person with mood swings. But I'm just glad to know that I can deal with things better now. I have old and trusted friends to run to, and new friends to build relationships with. Life is good when you look at it that way.

To That World...

I'm pretty sure I have a personality disorder. Haha. I don't know if I'm bipolar or what--and I've actually retained only about 10 centavo's worth of knowledge about psychology, so forgive me for not knowing what I'm talking about. What I do know is, one day I'm depressed as hell, and the next, I find myself thinking that life's just as dandy as ever. Wanna see what I'm talking about?

Exhibit A (a.k.a Super Mega Over Sa Nega II)

Written on August 18, 2009. 11:45-ish p.m.

Just another night. Today should be a happy day, if you get my drift (and you probably don't), but with almost 15 minutes left, I'm going to drop the forced cheer and sigh. Because despite the labels that people have allowed me to attach to them--friend, best friend, girlfriend--tonight, I have no one. I have nothing, not even my computer. I'm actually blogging on my phone, to be typed when I get the chance. So what I do have are 3000 characters. More than enough to lash out with all the angst in the world--the one I've been harboring for the last week.

At the end of the day, all I have are words. But this time--just for tonight--I would rather have the smallest of actions.

It's an embarrassment to admit that I get that depressive. WTF. Haha. I only used up about 670 characters--if I got my arithmetic right, anyway--but see? 670 characters of 100% concentrated angst. Pakamatay ka na. Haha.

The heavy mood went on until Wednesday night when I caved in and found myself walking around the neighborhood at 11 p.m., almost teary-eyed, and trying to buy regular load because my friends are all Globe subscribers. I texted two very good friends. I got to talk to them, and they helped ease the mood. I also got to talk it out a little with her and we ended up joking. I talked to myself a lot, like I always do, and my rational side won the debate. The mood was lifted.

[to be continued]

Super Mega Over Sa Nega

Finally, an update--but not a pleasant one at that. And because I'm in a weird mood, this post is a code-switching post. Chikahan lang, wala masyadong pseudo-philosophical musings tungkol sa buhay ko na hindi ko naman alam kung nairerelate niyo ba naman sa buhay niyo. Sa wakas 'no? Hallelujah.

So, how's my life? Ayun. Nobody cares. That's the whole point. The rest are details. And the details go like this:

OO, IKAW NA. IKAW NA ANG MAYAMAN!
Ang mas nakakabadtrip lang sa pagkalibing six feet under my usual poverty line, ay ang knowledge na yung mga taong pinakakinaaasaran ko ay parang hindi naghihirap. Eepal pa rin sa pasalubong galore, at parang hindi nauubusan ng pang-gas kahit nagdagdag nanaman sila ng singil per liter. Hindi naman siya malnourished. At lalong hindi din siya naliligaw na bata para mag-offer kayo ng hatid-sundo. Nako, wala nang maibababa ang self-esteem ko. Tinatamad nakong mag-self pity kasi forever na lang kayong ganyan. Hintayin niyo lang pag yumaman ako, at naging corporate superpower. Kahit sa panaginip ko lang mangyayari yun, lagot talaga kayo sa'kin. Bwahahaha.

IKAW NA ANG MAHAL NG LAHAT!
Ako kasi, hindi. Ewan ko ba. Yung feeling lang na ang dami dami mong kakilala, pero madalas parang wala ka pa ring friend. Oh dear, ang emow. Bakit ba naman kasi ang pangit ng schedule ko. Wala tuloy akong friends. At bakit ba naman kasi, napaka-introverted ko minsan. Ako din naman kasi 'tong hindi nagsheshare. At kung minsan naman ay trip kong magshare, hindi naman ata nila halatang seryoso na yung problema ko kaya hindi namin napapagusapan nang seryoso. Promise, sa lahat siguro ng parte ng blog na 'to, dito lang ako seryoso. Hindi lang ako makapag-uber emo kasi binusog ko na ang sarili ko sa KFC burger meal at menthol lights. At mas maigi na siguro ang ganun.

IKAW NA ANG MATALINO!
Mayabang na, fine. Pero hindi ako sanay sa buhay petiks. Mas sanay ako sa buhay na hinaharass ako ng mga tao, na may significant part ng group work na pababayaan at idedepende nila sakin. Pero simula nung pumasok ako sa UP, ako na si petiks. Paano ba naman, ang galing nilang lahat, at mas magagaling sila sa'kin. Feeling ko pa ayaw nung isang prof ko sa'kin. Hahaha.

IKAW NA ANG KARESPE-RESPETO!
Minsan, feeling ko, napakalaki kong push-over. Siguro alam kasi nila na hindi ako ganun ka-tapang. Ako yung tipong hindi marunong pumalag kahit dapat na. Kaya minsan, pakiramdam ko ay walang-wala akong authority over certain people. Lagi na lang ako yung inaasar, at nagiging clown. Masaya naman, nakakatawa. It's just that sometimes, I find myself looking for more than just that.

So ayun lang naman. I'll probably be telling stories next time.

Nga pala, kung mababasa 'to ng mga taong close sa'kin, wala akong galit sa inyo. :D Parte lang 'to ng annual depression syndrome ko. Haha.

At the end (or middle pa lang pala) of the day, even if--in my depressive, warped opinion--nobody cares as much as I would like them to, ayus lang 'yun. I know you love me naman. XOXO. LOL.

What's Up Philippines?: On The 2009 State of the Nation Address

[This is my reaction paper for a Developmental Studies cognate. Anyone who copies, dies. >:D]

I don’t usually watch SONAs. Or if I do, my short attention span gets the better of me and I either fall asleep, or wander off and do something else halfway through the address. It’s not that I don’t care about how the country is doing. I just don’t care that much for percentages, pie charts, and bar graphs (even if I was a former almost-Math major). Maybe I get bored because I don’t feel any personal connection with the statistics they present. If one really wants to know how the country is doing, riding a jeepney everyday—with kids wiping your shoes, asking for spare change—sure beats hearing about an “x percent increase in GDP since the last year”.

However, this year, I decided to watch the whole SONA, mainly since it would be President Arroyo’s last (or at least, it better be). The first thing that strikes me about GMA’s SONAs is the never-ending applause. They seem to clap after every sentence. Politics does involve some kissing up (Haha). But seriously, I cannot give blow-by-blow rebuttals about the things she said. I’m rather ignorant about figures, especially in Economics. However, it did make me think about some things.

First off, a SONA—basing on the few that I’ve witnessed—is basically a walk on the bright side of our country’s condition. A State of the Nation Address will talk about everything that went right, and none of what didn’t go so well. Statistics doesn’t mean objectivity, because the president can choose not to tell us about the negative growth rates, the number of understaffed hospitals in far-flung provinces, or such. I think the SONA only describes half of our nation’s status quo.

Second, I think that instead of merely giving figures of isolated projects-gone-right, a SONA could be a good venue to be transparent about the national budget. How come it’s never discussed? We hear about earnings from one industry or another, but what I want to hear about is where those earnings go. Of course, thieving government officials would steer clear of financial auditing in public, but at least give us some general idea.

The last remarkable thing about the 2009 SONA was how it kind of turned into a formalized bashing session of President Arroyo’s critics. The air was so heavy with bitterness (Haha). I guess she needed that, and I don’t really blame her for wanting an outlet. It was absolutely amusing to see. Philippine politics and show business have so much in common, with the crazy publicity stunts and with all the trash-talking. In my opinion, everyone deserves what they get hit with. It’s a dirty game they chose to play. Philippine politics is a lot like a Mexican telenovela: it never runs out of plot twists, but they’re all more or less predictable.

Of course, everyone was also talking about GMA’s vagueness regarding her rumored plans of extending her position as the head of state. It’s a separate issue, but I was expecting her to say something definite as well. However, from what little she said, it looks like she has some fishy plans up her sleeve. Either that, or the president just wants Philippine politics the telenovela to have a mystery/suspense feel.

Actually, I don’t hate Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. I don’t feel the need to burn her in effigy (or in reality); not even the need take to the streets and rally for her to step down. I think it is helpful that she knows about Economics, and I think she’s better at this job than an impeached, former action star who slurs all his words. No offense meant to others who might not have the same opinion. And besides, before anyone feels the need to burn me as well, I’d like to add that I’m not a Gloria fan either. She’s a lying, stealing trapo, I know. But I think she did some good things too.

I’m just waiting for 2010, when she steps down, fair and square, and I get to vote for someone whom I hope will be a better president. If she tries to extend her stay in power, though, I’ll be among the first to grab a torch. Because all I really know about the state of our nation is that we have the right to choose what happens to it. We won’t let anyone take that away, so I still believe that things are looking up.

A Beautiful Mess v2.0

Yeah, I have a previous post with the same title. But my life isn't that big of a mess, at least at the moment. This post is as much about me as it is about everyone else.

Today, I realized--cue drumroll--that we are all messed up. Or maybe I've known it for some time, and it just slipped out of my consciousness. I guess there's nothing like periodic insomnia and unfounded, self-destructive hatred to fuel these kinds of thoughts.

Periodic insomnia is self-explanatory. That's me being unable to sleep until the sun is almost up for a week or two--and after that time frame I go back to falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. For now, I have two more hours before I start yawning. Thank goodness my Spanish class isn't until 11:30.

The self-destructing hatred part is what got me thinking about the messes that we all are. See, I'm mad. At my girlfriend's guy friend. It's not like I'm romantically jealous or what--I can safely say I'm past that part--but I've never hated anyone's guts more than I hate his now. And it makes me look and feel foolish every time I let it get to me. Him being around nags at me like a freaking mosquito in my ear. A freaking mosquito I just can't swat.

The there's another messed-up thing about me, how I care about things I really shouldn't care that much about. I mean, it's not that it harms or affects me, but I just wonder why I follow all these blogs. Maybe I'm nosy. Or maybe I just like to read about what people think. It makes me feel a little more human, I guess. I like to read about different thoughts about life. There is more to this "caring too much" business about certain people, but at least I have concrete reasons for that one.

Then there's the rest of the world. Everybody has a weirdness of his or her own. If I have my vocabulary right, I think that's why they invented the term idiosyncrasies. We react differently, given similar situations. So I don't know. I'm no psychology major, but I guess that's just how it goes.

We're all a mess of some sort. Maybe you're moody, or a control freak. Or depressive, perhaps? Maybe you're a workaholic. Maybe you're lonely because you feel you haven't found love yet. You could be an insomniac. The possibilities of personalities are endless.

But as the title goes, there's a lot of beauty in that for me. I guess I'm basically tolerant of most people--I can live with most of the annoying attitudes of people I like and love, or even people I'm just starting to get to know. I can forgive them their weirdness, maybe because I know how much of a mess I am (and I may just be worse). And besides, variety is good. Different is good, because it's refreshing.

I'd rather have a slightly messed-up world than a predictable, perfect one any day.

How do you like 'em Facebook photo tags?

Freaky Friday (or Saturday. Whatever.)

Today (or, technically, yesterday) was a fun, fun day. I cut class to watch the induction activity of my unofficial org, SoComSci. I was supposed to be at the acquaintance party too, but my parents were out the whole day and someone had to be home to make sure my little sister was okay (and by "little", I mean my third year high school sister).

Since I'm only half as responsible as my parents expect me to be, I did stay out later than I should have. I was in Starbucks Torre Lorenzo with Julie Ann and Mengz. It felt kind of weird, since I am now not able to relate as much to their programming woes, but I guess I'd rather have this added peace of mind. Anyway, what started as a coffee break turned out into a videoke night, and I had a blast with them--that is, until I received a message from my mom about, err, our dinner arrangements. Haha. In short, she was telling me what to cook/buy.

I rushed home, praying desperately for them not to beat me to it, as I'd be dead if they did. I had already invented a whole spiel about the LRT breaking down and such, but my fears turned out to be unnecessary. I arrived home at 8:30, and they turned up at 11:30, with me all worried about what was taking them so long.

They say it's hard to raise parents, and well I guess I'm finding out how true that is. My parents are out a lot (they're members of a religious, socio-civic organization), and they often come in at 12 or 1 a.m. It's actually better, since we get less nagging that way (darn the day my mom discovered text messaging, though), and I'm glad because my mom is loosening up and getting better at hanging out with people, since I inherited the introverted gene from her. Sometimes though, I can't help but worry about them when they're not home past the expected time. I guess I know exactly how my mom feels. Now I give out my fair share of "where are you?" and "what time will you be home?" messages. It goes both ways nowadays.

I guess I am growing up. My commuting curfew has been pushed back from 6p.m. (high school days), to 8p.m. (4th year high school days), to 10p.m. now. Our city of residence applies the 10p.m. curfew only for minors, but in my household, you're only considered old enough when you have a house and kids of your own (or maybe when I'm the one paying the rent). 10p.m. might be kind of early, but that's fine for me. I don't have much of a nightlife anyway--quite the poor little geek. Haha.

It is better this way, not being wrapped around my mom's protective blanket all the time. This is coming from a kid who grew up being warned about playing on staircases and breaking my neck, or crossing the street and getting run over, or even playing habulan and tripping on my own feet (which I did manage to do when I was the lampa kid, a decade ago). I'm glad my mom's loosening up. Now all I have to worry about is her noticing that cigarette smell on my shirt.

Have a good day, folks.

Picture grabbed from graphicshunt.com

Long Shot

I'm not one to brag about my talents (whatever those might be), or about my achievements (mainly because I don't have much, I guess). Sure, I dream of being able to do something great. I aspire and work for that, but I never expect to pull it off. I know, people have been telling me that it's such a pessimistic view, but well. I hope for the best and expect the worst.

Thus I have decided to enter my blog into the 2009 Philippine Blog Awards. It's a long, long shot. But I've always seen myself as someone who'll die trying. Come to think of it, I won't even die. Worst that can happen is that my deepest, weirdest thoughts will be read by a panel of judges I'll be an embarrassing sort of amusement. Not bad--after all, isn't that the point of me creating this blog anyway?

Speaking of shots, by the way, I was in Rob Ermita (as always) a while ago, with two of my block mates. We were in Tom's World, killing time and draining wallets, and I decided to play Sharp Shooter--you know, those basketball shooting things. I got an all-time high score of 160, which may seem really lame until you consider the fact that I'm a skinny, 90+ pound, 18 year-old girl who hasn't played a real game of basketball in five years. Oh, and yeah, I hadn't eaten my breakfast at the time too.

I guess what I'm saying is that you never know how far you can go until you try. This year, I think I finally want to find out.

The Breadcrumb Trail

Yeah, I've taken to blogging in the predawn silence once again. There's just no better cure to a pounding head full of problems I'm never going to solve anyway.

Way to go. Where to go?

I like signs. When I go places, I always take pictures of signs. It's just good when you know where you're heading. But hey, sometimes signs can betray you too. If you're stupid enough to over-analyze them, at least. Like me, for example.

It gets to the point of so much confusion for me, that I get lost and kind of scared, and pissed off, and I give up on it. I walk away. Because hell I figured, there are so many places and ways to go anyway. But everywhere is too far out, so what's the difference?

Where I am right now is a good place. No regrets whatsoever. Because maybe this is how it's really supposed to be. That was how it was.

I guess I sort of miss the dawn hours, and whatever came with them. And I'm glad I tried to look in that direction, even if for most of the time it felt like being led by breadcrumbs--I never knew whether the pieces were just plain scattered, or whether I was going anywhere at all. I'm glad I looked, because I guess I found something good, too. And for someone who is so used to hiding, I allowed myself to be found, in some way.

I just wish--even if it might not have made any difference--well, I just wish I'd bothered to ask for directions. It would have saved me from having to wonder, as I do now.

This whole confusing confused blog brought into mind one of my favorite poems.

DEAD STARS

(for Paz Marquez Benitez)

by H.O. Santos

If I still think of her today

Why didn't I tell her long ago?

I could have saved all wondering

For I'd have peace if I did know.

If I had learned of metaphors

Before I wondered 'bout the stars

Would I have written verses then

And worshipped Venus instead of Mars?

If I had found my tongue could rhyme

Would I have shown a face sans mask,

A heart unsure? But woe is me--

I'll never know, I didn't ask.

Indeed, I didn't ever ask, did I?

I Seriously Forgot To Place A Title For This One

Finding yourself blogging in an Internet cafe when you have a decent connection at home is a sign of extreme boredom. In my case, it's an outlet to keep myself from totally unraveling and going batsh*t insane--while I wait for my friends to get off class, of course.

Insignificant newsflash #1: Failing PE.
Yeah, you read right. Fact is, today I managed to miss the third meeting of my PE class. The prof hasn't seen me yet, and when he does, I'm betting I get to drop the subject or he gets to drop me a fat, failing grade of 5. So how the hell do I explain failing PE to my parents? I don't pay for it, and it doesn't affect my GWA anyway, but hell. What a loser. Hahaha.

Insignificant newsflash #2: Library claim tags have invisibility powers.
Okay, so I have this huge headache that's making me wander around campus pretty dazed. I know. I'm seriously lacking sleep, but I expect to get some after we're done with the OC101 report tomorrow. For now, coffee is once again my best friend. But today is a very wasted day. My cup of cold morning coffee didn't seem to do the trick.

I was in the library a short while ago, trying to get some nap and reading time simultaneously. As I was leaving, I realized I lost my claim tag, a first in almost three years. So I went and told Ate Guard, quite nervously, because our library's guard is infamous for her sudden bouts of bad mood. She told me to look for it first, so I went back, disturbing the girl who had occupied my previous seat as I rummaged around the area. I found a number 34 claim tag, but mine was 77. I tried looking in all the known corners of the reserve section, but to avail. When I went outside to tell the guard, she was surprised that I found the 34 tag, which had been missing since the summer. Turns out that my claim tag was in the counter all along, since I had forgotten to take it in the first place, when I surrendered my bag. So I didn't have to pay the fine and Ate Guard considers me lucky now. Gawd, how I wish all my bloopers would turn out to be fortunate incidents.

So, lately it seems I've been losing things I need (including my three year-old Hair Doctor, damn) and finding unexpected ones. Welcome to my cluttered life. For now my head still hurts (so excuse the typographical and grammatical errors in this post, if any) and I'm waiting for tomorrow evening when I will hopefully run out of things to worry about for the week. I just have to get through this blasted day a minute at a time.

Wish me luck, and I hope you're having a better day. Ciao.

Picture caption: Life can be a pretty blur sometimes. Credits credits.

Hide And Speak

An open letter to someone I doubt will be reading this:

Dear Ex-Crush,

I finally found you. All (or most) of you, on the Internet. And I did it without even trying to. Almost a year of looking, and I only find it now--when I've finally lost the desire to find anything.

I found you, and I saw how you've changed. To say it was for better or for worse is not really my business. But you changed, and grew into the person I now half-know. I can't explain why, although I am devoid of the irrationalities and feelings that went with my admiration, I can't really say that I do not care at all. Maybe it's because you're the one I never really understood. Or perhaps I was just looking for something to understand when in fact, there was nothing.

All I can say is, I wish you well.

Just Me

Anyway, this got me thinking about how big the Internet universe is. It's so big that you can always find your own little corners where you can pour your heart out. There's a whole load of personal history you can gather from the web. Take for example, my outdated, unused Friendster and Xanga accounts--which I shall leave untouched to serve as embarassing memorials of a past life. In this case, I found the past lives of a past crush. Talk about history.

I'm betting some 20 years from now, I will look back on all these blogs and social networking accounts of mine, and marvel at how I was such a kid back then. But then, that's the way it always is. We always think of our past selves as naive kids.

I've realized that this entry has made me seem like the creepy little stalker that I sometimes am. But hey, as I've said, it's not my fault if people choose to publicize personal information and I find them. Goodness knows I'm not trying too hard--it's only all Google, you know.

So there. I will now seriously prepare for my report--a task I've managed to procrastinate on for the last two hours. This'll just be another outpouring to add to this particular corner of mine. I have so many of them already. And I confess that sometimes I just can't help but wonder if anyone's looking to find me in these secret places too.

I ar hiding. You cant cee me.

Forced Blogging

I'd like to think that my blogs have been missing me.

But so far, so stuck. While the infamous A(H1N1) hasn't gotten me yet, writer's block has. Maybe Plurk really is eating the part of my brain that's reserved for this kind of blabbering--after all, Plurk (or Twitter) is the ultimate blabber's heaven. Who can resist the allure of talking nonsense in cute little doses? See, you don't even have to organize your thoughts into paragraphs!

Urggh. Or maybe I'm caught up in my personal life, and in my so-called academic life. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm back together with my one and only...and I shifted into my dream course already. Life is good.

I have a six-day school week, with a maximum of 2 subjects per day (with 71/2 hours break between them). No wonder I feel like a bum. And inspiration is still on leave, I think.

So I'm off to watch an episode of True Blood. If you happen to bump into inspiration, tell her I'm still waiting.

Missing Persons

missing

adj.

1. a. Not present; absent.

b. Lost: a missing person; soldiers missing in action.

2. Lacking; wanting: This book has 12 missing pages.

Definition number one.

I am missing once again. Uurgh, I hate being lost. But somewhere in the confusion, I left the good side of me behind and I have to get it back.

Definition number two.

I am also missing people, or at least, the kind of relationships I had with these people. All my relationships are either undergoing major repairs, lost in outer space, or frustratingly undefined.

I feel that I have to fix me and fix those relationships gone haywire before everyone important to me goes missing too.

Really now, gimme my old life back. Because this new one is f*cking depressing.

(And as if on cue, my media player starts playing John Mayer's In Repair.)

Minsan talaga parang pinagtritripan ka ng mundo.

Always a work in progress.