Photo Blog: Medical Mission
Yes! We rode that one... whatever it's called. It was so fun! That was our before shot - and we didn't dare took photos after. We were wreck. Just imagine riding the roller coaster on land plus the wind.
Doctor and patient ; Generic medicines for all!
Erin Palmos with the kids of North Signal Village dancing to the beat of Nobody
Group shot with the generals. Hello wind!
Outside the school with Diana and Mia. Aww. I like those shots.
Diana, yeah, yeah, Ate Cacay, Mia
(Yeah and Yeah, I forgot your names. Shoot.)
Three words: not my camera ; My skin's thick, so yeah. I grabbed the chance. I'm fat, don't rub it in.
Medical Mission for NSTP
North Signal Village, Taguig City
27 November 2010
Photos from Diana Agulto
Teenage Dreams: Wallflower
It was loud inside that place. My best friend’s date had ingeniously decided to have their first date in a club – and I was being sarcastic. Bringing a date to a club: that would be like one step to getting turned down – or worse, be labeled as a terrible date. How could they talk here? If I were a guy, I wouldn’t take a girl in a place like this. I would take her on a nice and romantic restaurant, and there we would get to know each other better, there we would talk and laugh and have fun… but I was just a girl. All I could do was to accept what my date had planned for us. And I was just that jock’s date’s best friend, so all I could do was to sit and wait and be happy for my best friend.
Good thing we were seated in a private area. The leather couches were comfortable, and the music here wasn’t so loud anymore, and at least we wouldn’t see if anyone from the dance floor passed out or drowned himself with alcohol or did something as stupid. I was wearing my most comfortable attire: my favorite Beatles shirt, a leather jacket, black jeans and boots. I looked like someone from a kick ass movie where the tough girl fought bad guys and still had perfect hair (although my hair wasn’t really always perfect). But nonetheless, I looked tough. Nobody had messed with me so far. My best friend was sitting next to me, and next to her was her date. She looked so pretty in her black dress, and you could see that she was very happy. She didn’t care if the club was not the perfect first date-venue for her, nor did she care if her dress was too proper for a place like this; she looked like she was having the time of her life. While I was sipping on my mock tail (I wouldn’t dare take something with alcohol), I was thinking if she was already in love with him. Maybe she was still getting there. Maybe she already got there.
And sitting to my right was her cousin. He hadn’t said anything since we got here. I didn’t know if I should start the conversation, but I had nothing to say. I swore this double date wasn’t going to work. How could this be considered as a date if both of us weren’t saying anything? I kept on sipping on my drink and nibbling my straw. (
Shake it for me til your back break, I wanna see you make your back break baby, Your back break baby) Maybe I should say something already. This is very awkward, I thought.
“Don’t you think this place is like hell on earth?” He finally said, and I was surprised that he sounded serious.
Whoa. He was smart, really smart. “I definitely think so. You hate clubs and bars, too?” I glanced on his way, but he was already staring at me. I abruptly looked away and continued drinking my mock tail.
He laughed. “You’ve been drinking a lot. More or less you’d get drowned. Are you okay? You looked annoyed.”
“I won’t get drowned. I’m okay. I just hate this place. And I’m not really annoyed.”
“I hate this place, too. If I have a date, I would take her somewhere quiet, not like this. That way, we can get to know each other better. How will you talk to your date this way? It’s chaotic in here.” He said, his voice getting louder. “And oh, the smoke!” He coughed. I quickly looked at him. Maybe he had asthma? He should get out of here. Maybe he noticed that I was worried because he said, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
That’s good, I thought. I suddenly found it ridiculous that we had the same perfect date scenario in our minds. “I agree, without doubt. This is a bad first date. But I need to be here because of my best friend. Whatever makes her happy, I’d accept it. I really hope that she’s having fun right now, and it looks like that’s the case.” I took a good look on my best friend and her date. I found myself smiling.
“She’s lucky to have you. You remind me of someone from a novel that I’ve read… You’re like a, umm, what was that again? Oh, you’re like a wallflower.”
What did he say?
Wallpaper? Did I look like wallpaper here? How dare… “I’m sorry?”
“You’re like a wallflower.” He said louder. “Take Your Shirt Off” was playing (and I really hoped nobody was dancing half-naked) and it was earsplitting; I thought I was becoming deaf. Oh, wallflower. Not wallpaper. But what did he mean by that? “
‘You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.’” He explained, and he was still so serious.
I had never heard anyone say that about me, and I never expected that I would hear it first from him. He always took me by surprise. I still found it ridiculous. “From what novel was that?” I asked, hoping that it would make me feel at ease. I started for my drink again, but it was already empty.
“You want more of that?” He was referring to my drink. I said no. “That was from the “Perks of Being a Wallflower.” I had just finished it two days ago.”
“I bet this Beatles shirt that you liked that one. You knew the lines by heart. So you read a lot of novels, eh? Bookworm.” Good job, I was feeling lighter. (
What it is what is gon be, I see you in the crowd and your lookin at me)
He sniggered – the sound was cute. “I want to say that you’re wrong because I find that shirt cool. But yes. I love books. I’m the ‘typical nerd’ remember?”
Of course I remembered that.
That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. He had said when we first met. “Yes. You’re the ‘typical nerd’ but the ‘not-that-super-nerd.’” We laughed. “So what genres of novels do you read?”
“Oh, I have a wide range.” And we continued talking about books, music and theater. I learned that he liked several of the musicians that I liked, and I had read some of the books that he had read. I learned that his room was basically full of books and records and Broadway DVDs. He told me all about the things that happened behind the theater curtains. “There is definitely lots of drama,” he said.
We had so much in common, and we got along just fine. We didn’t notice the time passing, or the deafening club music (
Girl you look better with the lights off, better with the lights off, ooh). We both had our own conversation bubbles, and it popped when we realized that it was time to go home.
We shook hands, just like before, when I was dropped in front of my house. And just like before, he held mine tightly for a long time. Thank goodness it was already dark; he didn’t notice my burning face. Okay, this double date wasn’t that bad.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Take Your Shirt Off” is the first promo single by American recording artist T-Pain for his fourth studio album
RevolveR. It was released on iTunes for purchase on October 9, 2009.
©
“Better with the Lights Off” is a song recorded by American hip hop duo New Boyz, taken from their second studio album,
Too Cool To Care. The song was released as a promotional single on May 3, 2011 via digital download in the United States and will be released as the third single from the album on August 2, 2011. The song features guest contributions from Chris Brown.
©
“The Perks of Being a Wallflower” is an epistolary novel written in the 1990s by American novelist Stephen Chbosky. The novel was published on February 1, 1999 by MTV. The story takes the form of a series of letters to an anonymous friend written by the narrator, a teenager who calls himself Charlie (his real name is never mentioned). The story explores topics such as introversion, teenage sexuality, and the awkward times of adolescence. The book also touches strongly on drug use and Charlie's experiences with this.
©
“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” –
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (February 1999)
One Week Down
Hello dear bloggers! How was your week? I hope yours was good. Mine was tiring. First week of the new semester, what do you expect? I blogged last Thursday, though that one was a mess (what’s even new?). I will try to be less messy with this one. At least I even thought of trying!
Everyone had been writing and sharing about their first week... so I’ll try to do the same. Ha! My mind’s quite blank actually. But no matter, don’t care. So yeah, I will talk about my first week this semester.
I started my week with a stifle yawn and a hesitant-to-get-up-body. Anyway, school was good. I thought we’d be dismissed earlier, because that was what happened last semester. But I was wrong, okay? We were dismissed early by the professors, but we still stayed the whole day. To productively use our time, we used the library’s HP (not
Harry Potter) computers. Take note: we were the very first ones who used them (for the second semester).
Such good girls we are. The internet use was pretty much senseless. It wasn’t very satisfying because Facebook and Twitter were blocked, so all I did was edit my entries and post random hilarious stuff and anything-Harry Potter on Tumblr. To top it all, the audio of the unit that I used was not working. How lucky can I be?
Tuesday was amazing! No classes (we always think days without classes are amazing). I was very happy that day, because I watched this portion in
Eat Bulaga! Juan for All, All for Juan (yes, I’m still such a jolog). Jose and Wally were hilarious, and I was actually shedding tears because of their undeniably funny antics. After that, I washed our clothes. Then I cleaned. Then I slept. Life that day was better – and more fruitful – than the last day.
Wednesday, we had Human Behavior in Organizations – and that was all. We spent three hours in school. Fortunately, we didn’t have NSTP; unfortunately, our professor was absent because I learned his father died. I’m not really sure. That was what I heard them say. If that’s the case then, condolences Sir Bronia. God bless you.
Thursday was an exhausting day. We had Team Sports and Filipino 2. Guess what? We’re playing table tennis in PE
again! But Prof Filcon said it would be more interesting this time – we’d be doing doubles. The type where you’d be playing with a partner and you’d take turns in hitting (I don’t know the right term) the ball. It was hard and confusing at first, but Diane (my constant partner in everything) and I got the tactic easily. It was funny, and we were all laughing because of our mistakes. We won by five points, I think. First win ever in my college record. I suck at sports, as you can see.
The last school day of the week was annoying. Why? I could give so many reasons, but I’d stick with the relevant ones. First, you remember how I liked my schedule so much because we won’t be getting up very early anymore? Scratch that. We are back to the usual schedule:
Well, welcome back to hell. Second, we went to school early, and then we just spent thirty minutes with a professor in the morning. Yes, half hour only! Apparently, all the professors were to have a seminar with another professor from UP Diliman, so half of our day was spent uselessly. We were like dead people walking; we tried to kill time by walking and dragging ourselves slowly and heavily like zombies. The only thing that made my nerves stir from their dullness was the sale in National Book Store. They were selling small-damaged, old and excess supply books in a very, very low price. The
Chronicles of Narnia was being sold for just twenty bucks per book! Yeah, real. I was supposed to buy it, but I was confused with the true “numbering” of the series. I thought
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was the first? Then why was
The Magician’s Nephew the first book? That was what I saw. Then
Prince Caspian was like the 4th (not sure), but was the second movie, wasn’t it? Did I get them wrong?
Moving on, we had Communication Arts 2 in the afternoon. Our new professor was a sweetie... and she was requiring us to speak in English because she couldn’t understand our language. Perks of hers! She used the word “makulit” though she didn’t know what it meant. She said that we’d be focusing more in speaking this semester, instead of writing, which was okay with me. Of course, I still prefer writing, but we all need to learn new things in order to grow, right? So yeah, I’d try to “polish” my tongue and try not to get it all tied.
We still have seventeen more weeks to go, seventeen more weeks to burn eyebrows, seventeen more weeks to carry on.
Why so cute and perfect?
Hello everyone! Teehee. I haven't been online for a couple of days. I'm pretty busy and tight this week. So yeah, I guess this entry will be a mess. I just know.
I'm actually here inside the school's library. I'm researching about The
3 C's of Marketing and the definition of
Marketing itself. And still, I can't decide what to use. There are a lot of 3C's in here! My God. Ugh.
Anyway,
Harry Potter 7 part 1 is out! Have you seen it? I haven't. Boo. I will visit the cinemas not until the 27th. I know it's kinda late... but whatever. My best friend and I are planning to watch it thrice. So that will be like whole day inside the theater. Geez. Good luck with that! LMAO.
Shout out will start on the 29th, by the way. It's a teen show that will be hosted by teen stars. And Sam Concepcion will be there. Eep! So yeah, go watch it. 5:30pm. He has another new show also. It's called
Good Vibes. I think it will be aired in the next two Saturdays. I'm not sure.
I saw these on Tumblr. Cute, eh?
The kid version of the Gleeks! Adorable. See the Baby Puck? Amazing.
My three boys in one photo. Why you guys so perfect?
Teenage Dreams: Invited
“OH MY GOD!!!”
Those were the first words that started my day. My best friend called me very early in the morning. I was still wishing to go back to sleep. My eyes were still heavy, and my body wouldn’t move and get up. I slept late last night because I was learning a new song. That was the problem with me: once I got all interested in something, I wouldn’t stop until I get them perfectly. My mom was constantly checking on me last night because she thought I fell asleep and left the lights on. She wasn’t actually mad that it was the dead of night and I was still wide awake making noises using my guitar; she was glad that I was setting time for music and continuing what her husband had implemented on their daughter. Yes, we lost the talented man in our family, but my mom was still with me – unchanging, still supporting and believing. I got the song in the end. Maybe I had hit the sack by four in the morning. I checked the clock on my bedside table and cursed that it was just eight. I only had four hours of sleep. My best friend was really the morning person, and apparently I was part of her ‘I wake up very early everyday hooray’ routine. But I thought it was something very important, hence I answered the irritating rings of my phone.
It was important…
on my best friend’s part. She told me that someone asked her out.
“Who is he? Have I met him?” I asked groggily. Of course, I needed to know who she dated.
“You’ve met him already. He was the guy from my party. The one I told you I like.” She answered.
“Really? No way. Whoa.” I was suddenly awake. I didn’t like all those relationship pep talks, but really, that guy was fast. “He’s the guy from the varsity team, isn’t he? Nice catch you got there huh.” I enthusiastically said. “So, what happened? How did he ask you?”
“He talked to me on the hallway the following week after my party, then we exchanged numbers, and you know what happens after that. Then, last night he asked me out! I was supposed to call you right away, but I know that you were already asleep. So that’s all. Cute, isn’t it?” I wager she was blushing right at that moment.
“I was still awake. I slept by four. But really, wow. Just
wow. So, what are your plans?”
“Oh, right. I was thinking that maybe… you should come with me.”
Now was I
wide awake. “What?! Why? That’s your date, not ours. I’d spoil all the fun, really.” I protested.
“No. I want you to come. I don’t know him that well, and I might get uncomfortable with him. And don’t worry, we’ll come in pairs.”
“Pairs? What do you mean?” I was just so sure she was planning something, something that I never liked.
“Pairs. Double date. I will ask my cousin to come, too. I know you met him already. Just so none of us would be, you know, out of place. Genius, right?” She giggled; I was stunned – and annoyed.
“Why him? Why don’t you just ask our other friends? I reckon that would be better.” I proposed.
“Nah. I don’t want them to come. You know how wild they get, and they’d just tease me all day, and I want my cousin to gain more friends. I’m sure you could help him.” She sighed.
I was going to propose another plan again, but I remembered what her cousin had said before – about him not having friends, about how maybe his schoolmates were afraid that he’d be the “know it all type.” I remembered how he asked me if I could be his friend. I felt a bit sorry for him, and I couldn’t believe that I still felt that way. That was like a month ago. “Oh, yeah… Okay then, for the greater good. When is this date of yours? I mean
ours?” I was still annoyed.
“This coming Saturday. I still don’t know where, but we’ll just fetch you there. Thank you! I’m sure he will be very glad. He really likes you.” She sounded smug.
“What did you say? He likes who?” I asked, surprised. I was hoping it wasn’t what I thought I heard.
“He likes who what? Did I say something like that? I didn’t, silly! I guess you’re still sleepy; you’re imagining things. I’m even sure you’re still under your blankets. Go back to your slumber, sleepy head!” She said, and she was muttering something to herself about slipping and being careless.
“Okay. Just let me know if there are some changes. Coming to a date that I didn’t plan…” I sighed. “Good bye.”
“Good bye. See you in school.” She hung up.
I didn’t fuss over the date –
date, even the word crept me out – on Saturday. I didn’t think of what to wear or where we’d go. I just didn’t care. I was just doing it for my best friend and her cousin. I was sure it would be just one of those dates that I sat into and waited to end. I didn’t like going out with guys, not romantic dates. I didn’t think anything about it, unlike my best friend who was already stressing over her dress and what makeup to wear. I couldn’t blame her; she really liked that jock.
“Do you think I should wear this?” She was holding out a red mini dress in front of me. We were inside her pink room on one of our free days.
“Not red. Wear something that somehow says ‘I’m sweet but don’t mess with me.’ It would make a good impression. And oh, that dress is too short.”
“You’re right.” She rummaged her closet for more. “How about this?” She showed me her black tough-looking dress that wasn’t too long or too short. “If you won’t approve of this you’d have to go shopping with me.”
“No. That’s good. That’s cool. Don’t wear too much makeup.”
“You sound like my mom. You’re even
stricter than my mom.” She said. “But you’re right.”
“I know that.” I grinned.
“How about you? Have you already picked out your dress? I would be glad to help you if you haven’t.”
“Dress? I won’t wear a dress. For goodness’ sake, why would I do that? Besides, it’s not
my date. I’m just your chaperon, remember?”
“For goodness’ sake, why wouldn’t you do that? Besides, it’s
your date too. My cousin is coming, remember?”
“Don’t use my words. Be original, darling.”
“Whatever. The point is, you need to prepare because you’re. Going. On. A. Date.”
“I don’t ever prepare, you know that. Whatever I see on my closet, I’ll wear. Don’t worry, I won’t put on something revealing and hot or too covered and conservative. I’m a rock star; I have good taste.” I made a face that I knew was close to what rock stars looked like.
She laughed. I wanted to ask her about her cousin, but I didn’t dare because I didn’t want her to think that I was invading her cousin’s life. I just kept them to myself.
What kind of help does he need? I thought. I wasn’t a psychologist or a counselor. I was not even talkative. Maybe the answers to my questions would just come in time – in a rock star’s time.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
We did it, hooray!
Finally, I have my final scholastic report for the first semester! I made that one in
MS Excel. Apparently, our grades are not available online. So yeah, I just thought of sharing.
I was quite in shock when I saw them, especially my grades in
Software Applications. That's the IT classes that I told you
before... where I missed two quizzes. Well, hello! Thank you Lord! I've been praying and hoping that I won't fail. God is so great. Anyway, that's it. I really have nothing to say. I am writing this in rush. Ha!
Hello Second Semester (November 15)!
Have an awesome week everyone. I love you all. ♥
Teenage Dreams: Acquaintances
My best friend’s party was very simple. I was actually expecting it to be fabulous, what with all the
girly stuff that she had been showing me. And with a personality like hers, everything that she did should be fun and out of the ordinary. There weren’t any bright colors or butterflies or silly, little, floating hearts like those decorations in a kindergarten classrooms on Valentine’s Day. Nor there were falling confetti and garlands in shocking pink. There really weren’t any of what I was expecting. Maybe that was the reason why she didn’t want my help; she was keen on
really surprising
me, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t my birthday –
she should be the one surprised. Also, maybe she realized that she was already growing up, becoming a lady; that she was starting to let go of all the fairy tales that she grew up believing in – and wearing. I was so proud of her.
She went nuts when I told her that I will be singing on her party.
“Hey. I know you’re busy, but have you already called for my replacement?” I asked her. This time, I was the one who called.
“Oh, about that, I crossed it out. I decided not to have performers on my party anymore. We’re running out of time. I’m so anxious about this event! Whoever started debuts, ugh!”
“Really? My bad. I guess I should be looking for gifts right now. I thought my news for you would make me save some dime.” I sighed.
“What? Save you money? What do you mean? Have you decided to sing on my party?!”
“Well… I was thinking about that, but you don’t want singers anymore. So…”
“Ah! Thank you! Forget about what I said. I want a singer on my debut, and I want it to be you. Are you really, really sure about this? No backing out? Like, really?” She excitedly asked.
“Yes. I will do it for you… and for my dad. Thank you for making me realize what I really wanted to do. So yeah, I’ll be coming with my guitar.”
“Oh. You knew what you wanted all along. You were just so stubborn and obstinate to admit it.”
“I guess so. But anyway, I’ll see you on Saturday. You sure you don’t need a hand? I’m free today.” I offered.
“No, thanks. The idea of you singing for me and my guests is already enough. And I don’t want you to know what I had prepared. No spoilers, dear! Haha!”
I was already on the elevated podium when my best friend walked down the elegantly carved stairs. I started playing a soft melody to accompany her “revelation.” She was very stunning in a beautiful empire-cut gown in an appealing shade of green. Her hair was neatly collected in a bun with a little tiara holding it – that was good, at least she still had that “happily ever after” inspiration going on. I gave her an encouraging smile when our eyes met. She looked quite nervous, but she managed not to show it to the guests. I knew her enough to say if she was anxious or not. I sang “Hey, Soul Sister” for her because she was in love with Train, and some old ballad songs for the cotillion. I played “Without You” on purpose when she was dancing with the guy that she told me she liked; that made her red all over. There were so much dancing, hugs and tears going on. I was very happy for her, and I was happy for myself as well. I knew that my dad was proud of me. I realized that I missed him, I missed my Superman. But the thought of him with his hopeful smile made me glad, not lonely.
I was singing “Landslide” when I first saw him. He was my best friend’s cousin. I happened to recognize him through the photos that she showed me one time. She told me he grew up in California, but they were still very close because they were of the same age. I noticed him because he was singing along, and he was the only one who was doing that. Fleetwood Mac was a very old band, so I was quite surprised that he knew them, let alone knew the words to their song.
We were introduced after half of the guests had gone. He was tall, with long arms and legs, not skinny, not too muscular. My best friend also told me before that he studied in a local school in California when he was a child and was taking Theater Arts as a degree in a known university in this country. I wondered why he came back here; I thought universities in the USA were better than what we had here.
“Theater? So that means you’re into music as well?” I asked, quite curious.
“Well, not really music. Maybe theater acting, you can say. I can carry a tune, and I know a little – only a little – on playing a guitar, unlike you. You’re really great, and your choices of songs are incredible! I was surprised you knew Fleetwood Mac. They’re my favorite.” He mused.
I wasn’t sure if that was true or he was just making it all up. But anyhow, I didn’t know him well, and he didn’t know me pretty much, too. So I just considered that as a compliment. “Thanks. I was surprised that you knew them too. I saw you singing along when I played.”
He gave a shy smile. “Well, I couldn’t help it. Oh God, this is embarrassing.”
I laughed a little. He was funny – hmm, a good first impression. “It’s okay. Anyway, where are your other friends? Shouldn’t you be with them?” I said that because I started feeling uncomfortable, because I started thinking that he was cute, and I didn’t want to think guys that way, and I haven’t said my good wishes to the debutante.
“I came alone. Actually, I don’t have any friends yet, and I’m still getting to know the other students in school. I just came here, and my cousin is always my companion ever since.” He sighed.
I was taken aback of what he said. He looked friendly enough, but he didn’t have friends, maybe not yet, not even in his neighborhood. The only exception was his cousin, and she was my best friend. And she was his cousin. Cousins were considered as family, not as friends. It was impossible. It was a sad thought. “That’s really hard to imagine, you know. I thought the ‘Oh, that’s the new guy from California’ would get all the attention and gain friends effortlessly.”
Especially girl friends, given your striking look, I suddenly thought. It was weird that I even thought of that. Thank goodness I didn’t say it out loud.
“That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. Maybe they’re scared that I’d suddenly blurt scientific names and precise historical dates in their faces if they try to talk to me.”
“But they’re wrong, aren’t they? You haven’t said any trivia or plain dead facts since I talked to you. You’re not that…
super nerd.” I said.
“I guess so. You’re a brave girl – you’re not afraid of impromptu lectures from the ‘not-that-super-nerd’ that is I.” He grinned. “If you would accept my friendship, I would have…” he made a gesture of counting with his fingers, “two friends already.”
I didn’t need to think twice. He was my best friend’s cousin –
of course he could be my friend. “Well, you’re lucky enough. I’m a brave girl, and yes, I’m not afraid of impromptu lectures from the ‘not-that-super-nerd’ that is you.” I smiled, and he smiled. I said that I needed to go. We shook hands, and it took a long time for us to let them go. The room suddenly felt very warm. It was hilarious.
Singing for the guests and meeting a new friend, are you sure this wasn’t my birthday? I thought.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Hey, Soul Sister” is a 2009 song by the American alternative rock band Train, written by Patrick Monahan, Amund Bjørklund, and Espen Lind. It was released as the lead single from the band’s fifth studio album,
Save Me San Francisco. The song reached #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and is their highest charting song to date. It is also the band’s most commercially successful single to date, reaching number one in sixteen countries.
©
“Without You” – Charlie Wilson has released multiple solo albums. 2000's
Bridging the Gap produced the Top 40 R&B hit “Without You”, and
Charlie, Last Name Wilson in fall 2005, with production from such hit makers as R. Kelly, Kaygee and Tramp and The Platinum Brothers.
©
“Landslide” is a song written by Stevie Nicks and performed by Fleetwood Mac. It was first featured on the band's 1975 album
Fleetwood Mac. “Landslide” debuted at #32 on the U.S. Billboard Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart for the week of September 7, 2002..
©
Teenage Dreams: Superman
It was the birthday of my best friend, and she wanted me to sing for her. I was pretty scared of what she was asking me to do. Well yes, I could sing, but I never really sing for other people. Maybe a little music jams with my friends, but not for the crowd…
no way. She was determined to, according to her, “unleash my talent.”
“Please! Please! You need to sing. Just think of this as your gift for me. I won’t demand for anything else. Just this one,” she repeatedly pleaded. This was the fifth time of the day that she called me.
“First of all, why are you so eager on making me sing in front of your guests? IN FRONT OF YOUR GUESTS! I can’t do that. And second, I can always sing for you, anytime you want, but not this way. Please.” I said.
“Yeah, I know that. But you can’t hide your undeniably awesome talent forever. It has to come out! I want you to be successful.”
“And you think that this talent will make me famous? Or successful, eh?”
“Yes. Why not? You can really sing, I swear! You could have beaten every singer in the school choir. You’re just so shy to even open your mouth. You’ve been hiding inside your shell ever since… ever since…”
“My father died.” I continued. “You know what happened. I told you everything. Still, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. But if you really can’t do it, it’s okay with me. I guess I need to call for other performers, and spend a lot of money, and stress about it…”
“Hey!”
“Kidding! I understand. I’m your best friend, right? But think about it. I wager your dad would be so proud of you, wherever he is, if you pursue your dreams... Good bye then. See you soon!”
“Okay. I’m really sorry. See you.” That was the end of our conversation.
I kept on thinking about what she said, about making my dad proud, about pursuing my dreams.
My dreams. I had no idea of what my dream really was. I was taking Management as my degree, just for the sake of having one and because my best friend was taking it, too. But ever since I was a little girl, with my ponytails and red plaid dress, I wanted to be a singer. My father was a great music man. He sang any songs from jazz to country, from Abba to Guns and Roses. He was a versatile singer, and I was lucky enough to inherit some of his talents. When I was five, he taught me how to play several instruments. When I learned how to legibly write, my father helped me write little songs. We were best friends – best friends who could sing and make music. Our favorite song was
“All You Need is Love” by The Beatles. My mother would always take a video of us. At the end of the day, we would all watch it using our old, battered but well taken care of video player, with a bowl of buttered popcorns for them and a jar of cookies for me, and soda for them and milk for me. We would laugh at how silly we looked, and I would usually cover my face because of shame every time my skirt would fly up and they would see my underwear. My dad and I,
we were inseparable. My dad plus my mom plus I,
we were a happy family.
I wanted to record songs with Dad. I wanted to just make music with him. Mom supported us both. She was such a diehard fan of the Father-and-Daughter tandem that I even secretly thought that maybe she was already keeping a stack of flyers and posters with our faces on it under their bed. It was all I’ve dreamt of, and it was pretty possible. Heck, it was within my little hands reach. But,
poof, I guess I left those dreams behind, just like how my Superman had left me.
I was twelve. He died of lung cancer, and I had no idea about it until he was in the hospital with all those tubes in him. He told me that he was sick, and it couldn’t be cured by any drug from our medicine box anymore, and that he couldn’t live long enough for him to come to my graduation day. He also told me to continue singing, because he believed in what I can do. He was saying something else, but I didn’t understand because I was crying really hard. All I remembered was the sight of him closing his eyes and me burying my head on his chest.
After that incident, my mother got all…
lost. She was like a
living zombie – she was working full time for us to get going, but she didn’t have a life. She barely smiled. We barely talked. She barely noticed me. She barely noticed herself. It was awful. It felt like I not only lost my talented father but also my supportive and loving and beautiful mother. It took several months when she finally woke up from her dreadful trance. I didn’t hate her for not being there for me when I was going through that stage when I still couldn’t accept that my father was gone. I realized that maybe she was like me too – not accepting, denying,
hurting. I understood her. So I was glad and relieved when she got back, when she had a life again, when it wasn’t just me anymore, but the two of us.
Also, I stopped singing. It reminded me of my father and our dreams. Maybe I was just so busy with school, or maybe I couldn’t face the truth that I would play my guitar all by myself, that I didn’t have a partner anymore. Sometimes Mom and I would see our videos again. Sometimes we would laugh. Sometimes we would cry and miss him. Once, my mom asked me why I haven’t touched my guitar ever since he died.
“I can’t. It still hurts, Mom. I’m afraid that if I touch it, it will be just soaked wet with tears.” Then I started crying, and Mom held me tight and tried not to cry. It was very untimely because I was doing my Math homework, and it got all smudgy with my tears so I had to start scribbling those crazy numbers and operations all over again.
Just like my mom, I partially lost my life when he left us. I managed to carry on because I know Mom needed me, and we couldn’t afford to have two living zombies in our family. I found my voice again with the help of my best friend and my friends. I could sing for them – but only them. Anything beyond that was utterly impossible. But after deep thinking, I realized that I should do what my best friend was asking me. There was nothing to lose. She was my best friend, and I owed her so much. I could still be wasted up until now if not for her. I should sing on her party, and I would make my father proud.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“All You Need Is Love” is a song written by John Lennon and credited to Lennon/McCartney. It was first performed by The Beatles on
Our World, the first live global television link. Watched by 400 million in 26 countries, the program was broadcast via satellite on 25 June 1967. The BBC had commissioned The Beatles to write a song for the United Kingdom's contribution. Rolling Stone magazine ranked it at #362 in their 500 greatest songs of all time.
©
My Head on the Clouds
I still have 2 weeks of no life and constant procrastination to spend… and I have no idea how I’d do that appropriately or productively. My Mom is forcing me to study basic
Spanish this semestral break. Since I have nothing to do, really, I decided to obey, and because I think it will help me someday. I managed to remember some rules when it comes to the language like:
H is always silent;
J is pronounced like h in “house”;
C is pronounced as c in “cereal” when it is before an e or i, and as c in “car” when it is not, and blah, blah. I still don’t know if I will continue doing that stuff, but
what the heck. Who knows?
Just like what most teenagers do on their spare time, I
daydream… a lot! Like, all the time – every morning when I wake up, every afternoon while doing siesta, and before going to sleep. I guess that’s the reason why I always have headache and need to take drugs to sleep. Because of these contemplations and fantasies, I actually had dreams pretty much related to them. Not exactly the same as what I wanted to, but same concept, same scene, but different people (There’s this guy who is present in almost all of my dreams; I have no idea who he is). These dreams motivated me to do something quite artistic, and yeah, productive…
I’m writing a story right now. Yes, it is based on what I’ve been dreaming. I’m just making some alterations and adding some details and dialogues and stuff to make it more interesting and consequential. This is the first time that I’m actually writing something that the others can read. I always write and won’t let others see or know about it. Anyway, it is a love story (one of the easiest theme to write about), and yes, I daydream about love and relationships. Hey, I’m just a teenager!
The story, by the way, is narrated by a girl, using the first person perspective. She talks about how she met this guy through music and how she had figured out that she could witness her every sunrise with him forever… and I’m actually giving spoilers! I still have a problem though. I don’t know what the title will be. I’m thinking of using
“Teenage Dreams,” because that’s what it is all about, and because I love the song (the one without an S) and the artist. Another thing, I am not sure if I will make it long or just a three-part story. But, again,
what the heck. And oh, yeah, I won’t be naming the girl and her guy, because I don’t want to use my name or the others’ or formulate an original one. So you can call the protagonists as
“She” and
“He.”The characters and events portrayed in the story [that will be posted in the future] are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
(hell, who would have the same dream as mine, eh?) and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited [no worries].
All rights reserved. No part of the story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the author. – Ha! As if. Day dreams, day dreams.
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Photo Blog: Medical Mission
Yes! We rode that one... whatever it's called. It was so fun! That was our before shot - and we didn't dare took photos after. We were wreck. Just imagine riding the roller coaster on land plus the wind.
Doctor and patient ; Generic medicines for all!
Erin Palmos with the kids of North Signal Village dancing to the beat of Nobody
Group shot with the generals. Hello wind!
Outside the school with Diana and Mia. Aww. I like those shots.
Diana, yeah, yeah, Ate Cacay, Mia
(Yeah and Yeah, I forgot your names. Shoot.)
Three words: not my camera ; My skin's thick, so yeah. I grabbed the chance. I'm fat, don't rub it in.
Medical Mission for NSTP
North Signal Village, Taguig City
27 November 2010
Photos from Diana Agulto
Teenage Dreams: Wallflower
It was loud inside that place. My best friend’s date had ingeniously decided to have their first date in a club – and I was being sarcastic. Bringing a date to a club: that would be like one step to getting turned down – or worse, be labeled as a terrible date. How could they talk here? If I were a guy, I wouldn’t take a girl in a place like this. I would take her on a nice and romantic restaurant, and there we would get to know each other better, there we would talk and laugh and have fun… but I was just a girl. All I could do was to accept what my date had planned for us. And I was just that jock’s date’s best friend, so all I could do was to sit and wait and be happy for my best friend.
Good thing we were seated in a private area. The leather couches were comfortable, and the music here wasn’t so loud anymore, and at least we wouldn’t see if anyone from the dance floor passed out or drowned himself with alcohol or did something as stupid. I was wearing my most comfortable attire: my favorite Beatles shirt, a leather jacket, black jeans and boots. I looked like someone from a kick ass movie where the tough girl fought bad guys and still had perfect hair (although my hair wasn’t really always perfect). But nonetheless, I looked tough. Nobody had messed with me so far. My best friend was sitting next to me, and next to her was her date. She looked so pretty in her black dress, and you could see that she was very happy. She didn’t care if the club was not the perfect first date-venue for her, nor did she care if her dress was too proper for a place like this; she looked like she was having the time of her life. While I was sipping on my mock tail (I wouldn’t dare take something with alcohol), I was thinking if she was already in love with him. Maybe she was still getting there. Maybe she already got there.
And sitting to my right was her cousin. He hadn’t said anything since we got here. I didn’t know if I should start the conversation, but I had nothing to say. I swore this double date wasn’t going to work. How could this be considered as a date if both of us weren’t saying anything? I kept on sipping on my drink and nibbling my straw. (
Shake it for me til your back break, I wanna see you make your back break baby, Your back break baby) Maybe I should say something already. This is very awkward, I thought.
“Don’t you think this place is like hell on earth?” He finally said, and I was surprised that he sounded serious.
Whoa. He was smart, really smart. “I definitely think so. You hate clubs and bars, too?” I glanced on his way, but he was already staring at me. I abruptly looked away and continued drinking my mock tail.
He laughed. “You’ve been drinking a lot. More or less you’d get drowned. Are you okay? You looked annoyed.”
“I won’t get drowned. I’m okay. I just hate this place. And I’m not really annoyed.”
“I hate this place, too. If I have a date, I would take her somewhere quiet, not like this. That way, we can get to know each other better. How will you talk to your date this way? It’s chaotic in here.” He said, his voice getting louder. “And oh, the smoke!” He coughed. I quickly looked at him. Maybe he had asthma? He should get out of here. Maybe he noticed that I was worried because he said, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
That’s good, I thought. I suddenly found it ridiculous that we had the same perfect date scenario in our minds. “I agree, without doubt. This is a bad first date. But I need to be here because of my best friend. Whatever makes her happy, I’d accept it. I really hope that she’s having fun right now, and it looks like that’s the case.” I took a good look on my best friend and her date. I found myself smiling.
“She’s lucky to have you. You remind me of someone from a novel that I’ve read… You’re like a, umm, what was that again? Oh, you’re like a wallflower.”
What did he say?
Wallpaper? Did I look like wallpaper here? How dare… “I’m sorry?”
“You’re like a wallflower.” He said louder. “Take Your Shirt Off” was playing (and I really hoped nobody was dancing half-naked) and it was earsplitting; I thought I was becoming deaf. Oh, wallflower. Not wallpaper. But what did he mean by that? “
‘You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.’” He explained, and he was still so serious.
I had never heard anyone say that about me, and I never expected that I would hear it first from him. He always took me by surprise. I still found it ridiculous. “From what novel was that?” I asked, hoping that it would make me feel at ease. I started for my drink again, but it was already empty.
“You want more of that?” He was referring to my drink. I said no. “That was from the “Perks of Being a Wallflower.” I had just finished it two days ago.”
“I bet this Beatles shirt that you liked that one. You knew the lines by heart. So you read a lot of novels, eh? Bookworm.” Good job, I was feeling lighter. (
What it is what is gon be, I see you in the crowd and your lookin at me)
He sniggered – the sound was cute. “I want to say that you’re wrong because I find that shirt cool. But yes. I love books. I’m the ‘typical nerd’ remember?”
Of course I remembered that.
That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. He had said when we first met. “Yes. You’re the ‘typical nerd’ but the ‘not-that-super-nerd.’” We laughed. “So what genres of novels do you read?”
“Oh, I have a wide range.” And we continued talking about books, music and theater. I learned that he liked several of the musicians that I liked, and I had read some of the books that he had read. I learned that his room was basically full of books and records and Broadway DVDs. He told me all about the things that happened behind the theater curtains. “There is definitely lots of drama,” he said.
We had so much in common, and we got along just fine. We didn’t notice the time passing, or the deafening club music (
Girl you look better with the lights off, better with the lights off, ooh). We both had our own conversation bubbles, and it popped when we realized that it was time to go home.
We shook hands, just like before, when I was dropped in front of my house. And just like before, he held mine tightly for a long time. Thank goodness it was already dark; he didn’t notice my burning face. Okay, this double date wasn’t that bad.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Take Your Shirt Off” is the first promo single by American recording artist T-Pain for his fourth studio album
RevolveR. It was released on iTunes for purchase on October 9, 2009.
©
“Better with the Lights Off” is a song recorded by American hip hop duo New Boyz, taken from their second studio album,
Too Cool To Care. The song was released as a promotional single on May 3, 2011 via digital download in the United States and will be released as the third single from the album on August 2, 2011. The song features guest contributions from Chris Brown.
©
“The Perks of Being a Wallflower” is an epistolary novel written in the 1990s by American novelist Stephen Chbosky. The novel was published on February 1, 1999 by MTV. The story takes the form of a series of letters to an anonymous friend written by the narrator, a teenager who calls himself Charlie (his real name is never mentioned). The story explores topics such as introversion, teenage sexuality, and the awkward times of adolescence. The book also touches strongly on drug use and Charlie's experiences with this.
©
“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” –
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (February 1999)
One Week Down
Hello dear bloggers! How was your week? I hope yours was good. Mine was tiring. First week of the new semester, what do you expect? I blogged last Thursday, though that one was a mess (what’s even new?). I will try to be less messy with this one. At least I even thought of trying!
Everyone had been writing and sharing about their first week... so I’ll try to do the same. Ha! My mind’s quite blank actually. But no matter, don’t care. So yeah, I will talk about my first week this semester.
I started my week with a stifle yawn and a hesitant-to-get-up-body. Anyway, school was good. I thought we’d be dismissed earlier, because that was what happened last semester. But I was wrong, okay? We were dismissed early by the professors, but we still stayed the whole day. To productively use our time, we used the library’s HP (not
Harry Potter) computers. Take note: we were the very first ones who used them (for the second semester).
Such good girls we are. The internet use was pretty much senseless. It wasn’t very satisfying because Facebook and Twitter were blocked, so all I did was edit my entries and post random hilarious stuff and anything-Harry Potter on Tumblr. To top it all, the audio of the unit that I used was not working. How lucky can I be?
Tuesday was amazing! No classes (we always think days without classes are amazing). I was very happy that day, because I watched this portion in
Eat Bulaga! Juan for All, All for Juan (yes, I’m still such a jolog). Jose and Wally were hilarious, and I was actually shedding tears because of their undeniably funny antics. After that, I washed our clothes. Then I cleaned. Then I slept. Life that day was better – and more fruitful – than the last day.
Wednesday, we had Human Behavior in Organizations – and that was all. We spent three hours in school. Fortunately, we didn’t have NSTP; unfortunately, our professor was absent because I learned his father died. I’m not really sure. That was what I heard them say. If that’s the case then, condolences Sir Bronia. God bless you.
Thursday was an exhausting day. We had Team Sports and Filipino 2. Guess what? We’re playing table tennis in PE
again! But Prof Filcon said it would be more interesting this time – we’d be doing doubles. The type where you’d be playing with a partner and you’d take turns in hitting (I don’t know the right term) the ball. It was hard and confusing at first, but Diane (my constant partner in everything) and I got the tactic easily. It was funny, and we were all laughing because of our mistakes. We won by five points, I think. First win ever in my college record. I suck at sports, as you can see.
The last school day of the week was annoying. Why? I could give so many reasons, but I’d stick with the relevant ones. First, you remember how I liked my schedule so much because we won’t be getting up very early anymore? Scratch that. We are back to the usual schedule:
Well, welcome back to hell. Second, we went to school early, and then we just spent thirty minutes with a professor in the morning. Yes, half hour only! Apparently, all the professors were to have a seminar with another professor from UP Diliman, so half of our day was spent uselessly. We were like dead people walking; we tried to kill time by walking and dragging ourselves slowly and heavily like zombies. The only thing that made my nerves stir from their dullness was the sale in National Book Store. They were selling small-damaged, old and excess supply books in a very, very low price. The
Chronicles of Narnia was being sold for just twenty bucks per book! Yeah, real. I was supposed to buy it, but I was confused with the true “numbering” of the series. I thought
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was the first? Then why was
The Magician’s Nephew the first book? That was what I saw. Then
Prince Caspian was like the 4th (not sure), but was the second movie, wasn’t it? Did I get them wrong?
Moving on, we had Communication Arts 2 in the afternoon. Our new professor was a sweetie... and she was requiring us to speak in English because she couldn’t understand our language. Perks of hers! She used the word “makulit” though she didn’t know what it meant. She said that we’d be focusing more in speaking this semester, instead of writing, which was okay with me. Of course, I still prefer writing, but we all need to learn new things in order to grow, right? So yeah, I’d try to “polish” my tongue and try not to get it all tied.
We still have seventeen more weeks to go, seventeen more weeks to burn eyebrows, seventeen more weeks to carry on.
Why so cute and perfect?
Hello everyone! Teehee. I haven't been online for a couple of days. I'm pretty busy and tight this week. So yeah, I guess this entry will be a mess. I just know.
I'm actually here inside the school's library. I'm researching about The
3 C's of Marketing and the definition of
Marketing itself. And still, I can't decide what to use. There are a lot of 3C's in here! My God. Ugh.
Anyway,
Harry Potter 7 part 1 is out! Have you seen it? I haven't. Boo. I will visit the cinemas not until the 27th. I know it's kinda late... but whatever. My best friend and I are planning to watch it thrice. So that will be like whole day inside the theater. Geez. Good luck with that! LMAO.
Shout out will start on the 29th, by the way. It's a teen show that will be hosted by teen stars. And Sam Concepcion will be there. Eep! So yeah, go watch it. 5:30pm. He has another new show also. It's called
Good Vibes. I think it will be aired in the next two Saturdays. I'm not sure.
I saw these on Tumblr. Cute, eh?
The kid version of the Gleeks! Adorable. See the Baby Puck? Amazing.
My three boys in one photo. Why you guys so perfect?
Teenage Dreams: Invited
“OH MY GOD!!!”
Those were the first words that started my day. My best friend called me very early in the morning. I was still wishing to go back to sleep. My eyes were still heavy, and my body wouldn’t move and get up. I slept late last night because I was learning a new song. That was the problem with me: once I got all interested in something, I wouldn’t stop until I get them perfectly. My mom was constantly checking on me last night because she thought I fell asleep and left the lights on. She wasn’t actually mad that it was the dead of night and I was still wide awake making noises using my guitar; she was glad that I was setting time for music and continuing what her husband had implemented on their daughter. Yes, we lost the talented man in our family, but my mom was still with me – unchanging, still supporting and believing. I got the song in the end. Maybe I had hit the sack by four in the morning. I checked the clock on my bedside table and cursed that it was just eight. I only had four hours of sleep. My best friend was really the morning person, and apparently I was part of her ‘I wake up very early everyday hooray’ routine. But I thought it was something very important, hence I answered the irritating rings of my phone.
It was important…
on my best friend’s part. She told me that someone asked her out.
“Who is he? Have I met him?” I asked groggily. Of course, I needed to know who she dated.
“You’ve met him already. He was the guy from my party. The one I told you I like.” She answered.
“Really? No way. Whoa.” I was suddenly awake. I didn’t like all those relationship pep talks, but really, that guy was fast. “He’s the guy from the varsity team, isn’t he? Nice catch you got there huh.” I enthusiastically said. “So, what happened? How did he ask you?”
“He talked to me on the hallway the following week after my party, then we exchanged numbers, and you know what happens after that. Then, last night he asked me out! I was supposed to call you right away, but I know that you were already asleep. So that’s all. Cute, isn’t it?” I wager she was blushing right at that moment.
“I was still awake. I slept by four. But really, wow. Just
wow. So, what are your plans?”
“Oh, right. I was thinking that maybe… you should come with me.”
Now was I
wide awake. “What?! Why? That’s your date, not ours. I’d spoil all the fun, really.” I protested.
“No. I want you to come. I don’t know him that well, and I might get uncomfortable with him. And don’t worry, we’ll come in pairs.”
“Pairs? What do you mean?” I was just so sure she was planning something, something that I never liked.
“Pairs. Double date. I will ask my cousin to come, too. I know you met him already. Just so none of us would be, you know, out of place. Genius, right?” She giggled; I was stunned – and annoyed.
“Why him? Why don’t you just ask our other friends? I reckon that would be better.” I proposed.
“Nah. I don’t want them to come. You know how wild they get, and they’d just tease me all day, and I want my cousin to gain more friends. I’m sure you could help him.” She sighed.
I was going to propose another plan again, but I remembered what her cousin had said before – about him not having friends, about how maybe his schoolmates were afraid that he’d be the “know it all type.” I remembered how he asked me if I could be his friend. I felt a bit sorry for him, and I couldn’t believe that I still felt that way. That was like a month ago. “Oh, yeah… Okay then, for the greater good. When is this date of yours? I mean
ours?” I was still annoyed.
“This coming Saturday. I still don’t know where, but we’ll just fetch you there. Thank you! I’m sure he will be very glad. He really likes you.” She sounded smug.
“What did you say? He likes who?” I asked, surprised. I was hoping it wasn’t what I thought I heard.
“He likes who what? Did I say something like that? I didn’t, silly! I guess you’re still sleepy; you’re imagining things. I’m even sure you’re still under your blankets. Go back to your slumber, sleepy head!” She said, and she was muttering something to herself about slipping and being careless.
“Okay. Just let me know if there are some changes. Coming to a date that I didn’t plan…” I sighed. “Good bye.”
“Good bye. See you in school.” She hung up.
I didn’t fuss over the date –
date, even the word crept me out – on Saturday. I didn’t think of what to wear or where we’d go. I just didn’t care. I was just doing it for my best friend and her cousin. I was sure it would be just one of those dates that I sat into and waited to end. I didn’t like going out with guys, not romantic dates. I didn’t think anything about it, unlike my best friend who was already stressing over her dress and what makeup to wear. I couldn’t blame her; she really liked that jock.
“Do you think I should wear this?” She was holding out a red mini dress in front of me. We were inside her pink room on one of our free days.
“Not red. Wear something that somehow says ‘I’m sweet but don’t mess with me.’ It would make a good impression. And oh, that dress is too short.”
“You’re right.” She rummaged her closet for more. “How about this?” She showed me her black tough-looking dress that wasn’t too long or too short. “If you won’t approve of this you’d have to go shopping with me.”
“No. That’s good. That’s cool. Don’t wear too much makeup.”
“You sound like my mom. You’re even
stricter than my mom.” She said. “But you’re right.”
“I know that.” I grinned.
“How about you? Have you already picked out your dress? I would be glad to help you if you haven’t.”
“Dress? I won’t wear a dress. For goodness’ sake, why would I do that? Besides, it’s not
my date. I’m just your chaperon, remember?”
“For goodness’ sake, why wouldn’t you do that? Besides, it’s
your date too. My cousin is coming, remember?”
“Don’t use my words. Be original, darling.”
“Whatever. The point is, you need to prepare because you’re. Going. On. A. Date.”
“I don’t ever prepare, you know that. Whatever I see on my closet, I’ll wear. Don’t worry, I won’t put on something revealing and hot or too covered and conservative. I’m a rock star; I have good taste.” I made a face that I knew was close to what rock stars looked like.
She laughed. I wanted to ask her about her cousin, but I didn’t dare because I didn’t want her to think that I was invading her cousin’s life. I just kept them to myself.
What kind of help does he need? I thought. I wasn’t a psychologist or a counselor. I was not even talkative. Maybe the answers to my questions would just come in time – in a rock star’s time.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
We did it, hooray!
Finally, I have my final scholastic report for the first semester! I made that one in
MS Excel. Apparently, our grades are not available online. So yeah, I just thought of sharing.
I was quite in shock when I saw them, especially my grades in
Software Applications. That's the IT classes that I told you
before... where I missed two quizzes. Well, hello! Thank you Lord! I've been praying and hoping that I won't fail. God is so great. Anyway, that's it. I really have nothing to say. I am writing this in rush. Ha!
Hello Second Semester (November 15)!
Have an awesome week everyone. I love you all. ♥
Teenage Dreams: Acquaintances
My best friend’s party was very simple. I was actually expecting it to be fabulous, what with all the
girly stuff that she had been showing me. And with a personality like hers, everything that she did should be fun and out of the ordinary. There weren’t any bright colors or butterflies or silly, little, floating hearts like those decorations in a kindergarten classrooms on Valentine’s Day. Nor there were falling confetti and garlands in shocking pink. There really weren’t any of what I was expecting. Maybe that was the reason why she didn’t want my help; she was keen on
really surprising
me, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t my birthday –
she should be the one surprised. Also, maybe she realized that she was already growing up, becoming a lady; that she was starting to let go of all the fairy tales that she grew up believing in – and wearing. I was so proud of her.
She went nuts when I told her that I will be singing on her party.
“Hey. I know you’re busy, but have you already called for my replacement?” I asked her. This time, I was the one who called.
“Oh, about that, I crossed it out. I decided not to have performers on my party anymore. We’re running out of time. I’m so anxious about this event! Whoever started debuts, ugh!”
“Really? My bad. I guess I should be looking for gifts right now. I thought my news for you would make me save some dime.” I sighed.
“What? Save you money? What do you mean? Have you decided to sing on my party?!”
“Well… I was thinking about that, but you don’t want singers anymore. So…”
“Ah! Thank you! Forget about what I said. I want a singer on my debut, and I want it to be you. Are you really, really sure about this? No backing out? Like, really?” She excitedly asked.
“Yes. I will do it for you… and for my dad. Thank you for making me realize what I really wanted to do. So yeah, I’ll be coming with my guitar.”
“Oh. You knew what you wanted all along. You were just so stubborn and obstinate to admit it.”
“I guess so. But anyway, I’ll see you on Saturday. You sure you don’t need a hand? I’m free today.” I offered.
“No, thanks. The idea of you singing for me and my guests is already enough. And I don’t want you to know what I had prepared. No spoilers, dear! Haha!”
I was already on the elevated podium when my best friend walked down the elegantly carved stairs. I started playing a soft melody to accompany her “revelation.” She was very stunning in a beautiful empire-cut gown in an appealing shade of green. Her hair was neatly collected in a bun with a little tiara holding it – that was good, at least she still had that “happily ever after” inspiration going on. I gave her an encouraging smile when our eyes met. She looked quite nervous, but she managed not to show it to the guests. I knew her enough to say if she was anxious or not. I sang “Hey, Soul Sister” for her because she was in love with Train, and some old ballad songs for the cotillion. I played “Without You” on purpose when she was dancing with the guy that she told me she liked; that made her red all over. There were so much dancing, hugs and tears going on. I was very happy for her, and I was happy for myself as well. I knew that my dad was proud of me. I realized that I missed him, I missed my Superman. But the thought of him with his hopeful smile made me glad, not lonely.
I was singing “Landslide” when I first saw him. He was my best friend’s cousin. I happened to recognize him through the photos that she showed me one time. She told me he grew up in California, but they were still very close because they were of the same age. I noticed him because he was singing along, and he was the only one who was doing that. Fleetwood Mac was a very old band, so I was quite surprised that he knew them, let alone knew the words to their song.
We were introduced after half of the guests had gone. He was tall, with long arms and legs, not skinny, not too muscular. My best friend also told me before that he studied in a local school in California when he was a child and was taking Theater Arts as a degree in a known university in this country. I wondered why he came back here; I thought universities in the USA were better than what we had here.
“Theater? So that means you’re into music as well?” I asked, quite curious.
“Well, not really music. Maybe theater acting, you can say. I can carry a tune, and I know a little – only a little – on playing a guitar, unlike you. You’re really great, and your choices of songs are incredible! I was surprised you knew Fleetwood Mac. They’re my favorite.” He mused.
I wasn’t sure if that was true or he was just making it all up. But anyhow, I didn’t know him well, and he didn’t know me pretty much, too. So I just considered that as a compliment. “Thanks. I was surprised that you knew them too. I saw you singing along when I played.”
He gave a shy smile. “Well, I couldn’t help it. Oh God, this is embarrassing.”
I laughed a little. He was funny – hmm, a good first impression. “It’s okay. Anyway, where are your other friends? Shouldn’t you be with them?” I said that because I started feeling uncomfortable, because I started thinking that he was cute, and I didn’t want to think guys that way, and I haven’t said my good wishes to the debutante.
“I came alone. Actually, I don’t have any friends yet, and I’m still getting to know the other students in school. I just came here, and my cousin is always my companion ever since.” He sighed.
I was taken aback of what he said. He looked friendly enough, but he didn’t have friends, maybe not yet, not even in his neighborhood. The only exception was his cousin, and she was my best friend. And she was his cousin. Cousins were considered as family, not as friends. It was impossible. It was a sad thought. “That’s really hard to imagine, you know. I thought the ‘Oh, that’s the new guy from California’ would get all the attention and gain friends effortlessly.”
Especially girl friends, given your striking look, I suddenly thought. It was weird that I even thought of that. Thank goodness I didn’t say it out loud.
“That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. Maybe they’re scared that I’d suddenly blurt scientific names and precise historical dates in their faces if they try to talk to me.”
“But they’re wrong, aren’t they? You haven’t said any trivia or plain dead facts since I talked to you. You’re not that…
super nerd.” I said.
“I guess so. You’re a brave girl – you’re not afraid of impromptu lectures from the ‘not-that-super-nerd’ that is I.” He grinned. “If you would accept my friendship, I would have…” he made a gesture of counting with his fingers, “two friends already.”
I didn’t need to think twice. He was my best friend’s cousin –
of course he could be my friend. “Well, you’re lucky enough. I’m a brave girl, and yes, I’m not afraid of impromptu lectures from the ‘not-that-super-nerd’ that is you.” I smiled, and he smiled. I said that I needed to go. We shook hands, and it took a long time for us to let them go. The room suddenly felt very warm. It was hilarious.
Singing for the guests and meeting a new friend, are you sure this wasn’t my birthday? I thought.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Hey, Soul Sister” is a 2009 song by the American alternative rock band Train, written by Patrick Monahan, Amund Bjørklund, and Espen Lind. It was released as the lead single from the band’s fifth studio album,
Save Me San Francisco. The song reached #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and is their highest charting song to date. It is also the band’s most commercially successful single to date, reaching number one in sixteen countries.
©
“Without You” – Charlie Wilson has released multiple solo albums. 2000's
Bridging the Gap produced the Top 40 R&B hit “Without You”, and
Charlie, Last Name Wilson in fall 2005, with production from such hit makers as R. Kelly, Kaygee and Tramp and The Platinum Brothers.
©
“Landslide” is a song written by Stevie Nicks and performed by Fleetwood Mac. It was first featured on the band's 1975 album
Fleetwood Mac. “Landslide” debuted at #32 on the U.S. Billboard Hot Country Singles & Tracks chart for the week of September 7, 2002..
©
Teenage Dreams: Superman
It was the birthday of my best friend, and she wanted me to sing for her. I was pretty scared of what she was asking me to do. Well yes, I could sing, but I never really sing for other people. Maybe a little music jams with my friends, but not for the crowd…
no way. She was determined to, according to her, “unleash my talent.”
“Please! Please! You need to sing. Just think of this as your gift for me. I won’t demand for anything else. Just this one,” she repeatedly pleaded. This was the fifth time of the day that she called me.
“First of all, why are you so eager on making me sing in front of your guests? IN FRONT OF YOUR GUESTS! I can’t do that. And second, I can always sing for you, anytime you want, but not this way. Please.” I said.
“Yeah, I know that. But you can’t hide your undeniably awesome talent forever. It has to come out! I want you to be successful.”
“And you think that this talent will make me famous? Or successful, eh?”
“Yes. Why not? You can really sing, I swear! You could have beaten every singer in the school choir. You’re just so shy to even open your mouth. You’ve been hiding inside your shell ever since… ever since…”
“My father died.” I continued. “You know what happened. I told you everything. Still, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. But if you really can’t do it, it’s okay with me. I guess I need to call for other performers, and spend a lot of money, and stress about it…”
“Hey!”
“Kidding! I understand. I’m your best friend, right? But think about it. I wager your dad would be so proud of you, wherever he is, if you pursue your dreams... Good bye then. See you soon!”
“Okay. I’m really sorry. See you.” That was the end of our conversation.
I kept on thinking about what she said, about making my dad proud, about pursuing my dreams.
My dreams. I had no idea of what my dream really was. I was taking Management as my degree, just for the sake of having one and because my best friend was taking it, too. But ever since I was a little girl, with my ponytails and red plaid dress, I wanted to be a singer. My father was a great music man. He sang any songs from jazz to country, from Abba to Guns and Roses. He was a versatile singer, and I was lucky enough to inherit some of his talents. When I was five, he taught me how to play several instruments. When I learned how to legibly write, my father helped me write little songs. We were best friends – best friends who could sing and make music. Our favorite song was
“All You Need is Love” by The Beatles. My mother would always take a video of us. At the end of the day, we would all watch it using our old, battered but well taken care of video player, with a bowl of buttered popcorns for them and a jar of cookies for me, and soda for them and milk for me. We would laugh at how silly we looked, and I would usually cover my face because of shame every time my skirt would fly up and they would see my underwear. My dad and I,
we were inseparable. My dad plus my mom plus I,
we were a happy family.
I wanted to record songs with Dad. I wanted to just make music with him. Mom supported us both. She was such a diehard fan of the Father-and-Daughter tandem that I even secretly thought that maybe she was already keeping a stack of flyers and posters with our faces on it under their bed. It was all I’ve dreamt of, and it was pretty possible. Heck, it was within my little hands reach. But,
poof, I guess I left those dreams behind, just like how my Superman had left me.
I was twelve. He died of lung cancer, and I had no idea about it until he was in the hospital with all those tubes in him. He told me that he was sick, and it couldn’t be cured by any drug from our medicine box anymore, and that he couldn’t live long enough for him to come to my graduation day. He also told me to continue singing, because he believed in what I can do. He was saying something else, but I didn’t understand because I was crying really hard. All I remembered was the sight of him closing his eyes and me burying my head on his chest.
After that incident, my mother got all…
lost. She was like a
living zombie – she was working full time for us to get going, but she didn’t have a life. She barely smiled. We barely talked. She barely noticed me. She barely noticed herself. It was awful. It felt like I not only lost my talented father but also my supportive and loving and beautiful mother. It took several months when she finally woke up from her dreadful trance. I didn’t hate her for not being there for me when I was going through that stage when I still couldn’t accept that my father was gone. I realized that maybe she was like me too – not accepting, denying,
hurting. I understood her. So I was glad and relieved when she got back, when she had a life again, when it wasn’t just me anymore, but the two of us.
Also, I stopped singing. It reminded me of my father and our dreams. Maybe I was just so busy with school, or maybe I couldn’t face the truth that I would play my guitar all by myself, that I didn’t have a partner anymore. Sometimes Mom and I would see our videos again. Sometimes we would laugh. Sometimes we would cry and miss him. Once, my mom asked me why I haven’t touched my guitar ever since he died.
“I can’t. It still hurts, Mom. I’m afraid that if I touch it, it will be just soaked wet with tears.” Then I started crying, and Mom held me tight and tried not to cry. It was very untimely because I was doing my Math homework, and it got all smudgy with my tears so I had to start scribbling those crazy numbers and operations all over again.
Just like my mom, I partially lost my life when he left us. I managed to carry on because I know Mom needed me, and we couldn’t afford to have two living zombies in our family. I found my voice again with the help of my best friend and my friends. I could sing for them – but only them. Anything beyond that was utterly impossible. But after deep thinking, I realized that I should do what my best friend was asking me. There was nothing to lose. She was my best friend, and I owed her so much. I could still be wasted up until now if not for her. I should sing on her party, and I would make my father proud.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“All You Need Is Love” is a song written by John Lennon and credited to Lennon/McCartney. It was first performed by The Beatles on
Our World, the first live global television link. Watched by 400 million in 26 countries, the program was broadcast via satellite on 25 June 1967. The BBC had commissioned The Beatles to write a song for the United Kingdom's contribution. Rolling Stone magazine ranked it at #362 in their 500 greatest songs of all time.
©
My Head on the Clouds
I still have 2 weeks of no life and constant procrastination to spend… and I have no idea how I’d do that appropriately or productively. My Mom is forcing me to study basic
Spanish this semestral break. Since I have nothing to do, really, I decided to obey, and because I think it will help me someday. I managed to remember some rules when it comes to the language like:
H is always silent;
J is pronounced like h in “house”;
C is pronounced as c in “cereal” when it is before an e or i, and as c in “car” when it is not, and blah, blah. I still don’t know if I will continue doing that stuff, but
what the heck. Who knows?
Just like what most teenagers do on their spare time, I
daydream… a lot! Like, all the time – every morning when I wake up, every afternoon while doing siesta, and before going to sleep. I guess that’s the reason why I always have headache and need to take drugs to sleep. Because of these contemplations and fantasies, I actually had dreams pretty much related to them. Not exactly the same as what I wanted to, but same concept, same scene, but different people (There’s this guy who is present in almost all of my dreams; I have no idea who he is). These dreams motivated me to do something quite artistic, and yeah, productive…
I’m writing a story right now. Yes, it is based on what I’ve been dreaming. I’m just making some alterations and adding some details and dialogues and stuff to make it more interesting and consequential. This is the first time that I’m actually writing something that the others can read. I always write and won’t let others see or know about it. Anyway, it is a love story (one of the easiest theme to write about), and yes, I daydream about love and relationships. Hey, I’m just a teenager!
The story, by the way, is narrated by a girl, using the first person perspective. She talks about how she met this guy through music and how she had figured out that she could witness her every sunrise with him forever… and I’m actually giving spoilers! I still have a problem though. I don’t know what the title will be. I’m thinking of using
“Teenage Dreams,” because that’s what it is all about, and because I love the song (the one without an S) and the artist. Another thing, I am not sure if I will make it long or just a three-part story. But, again,
what the heck. And oh, yeah, I won’t be naming the girl and her guy, because I don’t want to use my name or the others’ or formulate an original one. So you can call the protagonists as
“She” and
“He.”The characters and events portrayed in the story [that will be posted in the future] are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
(hell, who would have the same dream as mine, eh?) and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited [no worries].
All rights reserved. No part of the story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the author. – Ha! As if. Day dreams, day dreams.
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
