September: In A Nutshell
September was
awful. It was weird, annoying and tiring. I can summarize this month as (if we take the last couple of days as its basis)
I Feel Like Crap. I feel like crap for reasons of 1) this month had been extremely exhausting and now I feel sick; 2) I just made enemies with a prominent being in our Society so 3) now I feel like everyone hates me; 4) I missed Candy Fair 2012 because of cheer dance rehearsals; 5) I missed
Colton Dixon because of my stupidity; 6) I’m starting to doubt myself again; 7) I feel alone and utterly dim-witted; 8) my mom and I had a major nagging episode; 9) my feelings for FCC are maddeningly confusing; and 10) everything’s weird (even my writing is weird).
SEPTEMBER ARCHIVES
Disturbing Dark Shadows
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Wiz Khalifa once said, “Worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” But I love umbrellas – they serve a number of purposes, so I guess worrying is not
always stupid. Worrying braces us for worse things, making us all geared up to face these monsters lingering in dark, shadowy corners, slaying them to end the pain once and for all. I worry about a lot of things – from my friends, my reading (for heaven’s sake), FCC and to my hormones (of all things).
Fanfaronade of Idiosyncrasy
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Other than being a source of beautiful words, this blog post conveyed two character traits that I have, one which nobody knew and another that I just learned a few weeks back. If you might ask why I keep writing about myself instead of about sensible topics that could promote world peace and higher literacy rate, I say that my life is like a simple Mathematical equation – an equation so easy that even cats can evaluate. My Life = school + school clubs + home + some friends + books +
The Vampire Diaries + hopeless fangirling + blog + more books. So can you blame me?
Irony
Thursday, September 13, 2012
I never told much about my high school experience, what I really had gone through and what I thought of it, except for some a hundred word count posts I made some two years ago. My take about high school is
ironic, though. They say that those four years are the most fun a person could have, but as far as I know, it didn’t work that way for me. It had been hard to write about it because the friends I made from high school might read it and think that I’m an insensitive hypocrite, but I did anyway. I don’t miss being back in that classroom where terror teachers come and go, where everything is tensed up and a competition, where several embarrassing moments takes place. I wouldn’t want to go back time and relive those years, but I miss my friends. I miss my best friend. It’s basically bittersweet.
Rant 101
Friday, September 21, 2012
This day = worst ever.
STRIKING QUOTE
“The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate; their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is that he can improve.” © Hasidic saying, [as seen from]
Clockwork Prince, Cassandra Clare
BOOKS UPDATE
I had the most number of read books this month. I guess because I realized my slow reading would lead me to a futile 100 reads goal. So as much as possible, I read in my free time – and in my not-so free time. I sound like a book maniac, geez.
September reads:
Clockwork Angel (feels) and
Clockwork Prince (more feels), both by Cassandra Clare;
The Saddest Summer of Samuel S by J.P. Donleavy (annoying and weird Samuel);
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (Dystopia at its finest! Babies and bottles!);
Young Lonigan by James T. Farrell (funny fifteen year olds are funny).
Current read:
City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare (Jace Wayland and my heart); and
A Nest of Ninnies by John Ashbery and James Schuyler.
FAVORITE PERSON/S
I have no idea who my favorite person is for this month. I don’t have lots of friends, and the few ones had already been featured in this section in the past months. I would’ve written about my best friend but I can’t since we didn’t really meet this month, and writing about him would be better if I have some new memories with him. I would’ve written about Colton but that would be weird. I would’ve written about FCC but that would be
weirder – and I’d just hurt myself in the process. I can write about my brother but he’s family, so it may sound biased. I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave this section
person-less. Lame.
FAVORITE PHOTO/GIF ©
Demi Lovato is just so adorable in here. She’s swooning! It’s so obvious when she meets a cute contestant auditioning for
The X Factor USA: her eyes lit up and her smile is funny. She becomes goofy and embarrassed and flushed all around. Jesus heavens, I love her! She’s inspiring and talented. I love her wardrobe and her hair is always awesome. I didn’t like Demi in her
Camp Rock days, but my heart grew fond of her when I started watching
Sonny with a Chance. Now I’m a fangirl. I wish she’d do a duet with
Cameron Mitchell or Colton – that’d be epi-i-ic!
SONGS OF THE MONTH
CHAMPAGNE TO POP
I’ve seen
I Do Bidoo Bidoo with Mary Ann and Khaye! We had so much fun since it felt like we owned the cinema.
Sam Concepcion was fantastic. The Eugene-Ogie love scene was both revolting and hilarious. And the songs were sung perfectly. I’m running out of adjectives to describe this movie!
We had a successful Sports Festival (25 – 27 September). The Institute of Liberal Arts placed second in the Cheer Dance Competition. It wasn’t the award we wanted, but considering the short rehearsals days we had, being second best is already a big thing. We are such born performers!
Aubrey Lavern (also an ILA member) and I attended the GMA News TV Learniversity last 28 September 2012, Saturday, at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines. The Broadcasting seminar we attended had Ms.
Kara David, a GMA News and Current Affairs anchor, as its speaker. We had so much fun and learned a lot from her talk about her experiences in the media industry. “All the glamour that comes with the Broadcasting industry involves a lot of hard work.”
October Activity List:
Rotaract Club Library Corner (the original schedule was moved to 10 October)
Sam’s 20th birthday (17 October)
Colton’s 21st birthday (19 October)
School break! Halloween!
I hope I won’t feel like crap this October. I need more humorous books and friends.
Rant 101
So last Wednesday (19 September 2012), I met
Colton Dixon…
I did not. It would have been one of my favorite days had I not been so stupid. It was such an
epic fail, that moment. It was embarrassing that it was already funny.
My brother told me a week before the event that
American Idol finalists will be in Eastwood Mall for some meet and greet, before they hold their concert in Smart Araneta Coliseum (21 September). Because I’m in love with Colton and would do anything to experience his glory, I got so excited and even invited my best friend to come with me.
Come Wednesday, I missed cheer dance rehearsals since the schedule was in conflict. I was just so stoked to see him; I didn’t even care about the other Idols.
So in Eastwood Mall, everyone was all about Jessica Sanchez. That wasn’t news to me. Everybody wanted to see her, some even had their shirts printed with her face, her fan club was present; all the people talked about was Jessica. And there I was, waiting for my best friend and daydreaming about Colton, wearing my Ghostbusters shirt and San Diego cap. I was searching for some Filipino Messengers so I wouldn’t feel so alone. It was futile. So I was basically zoning out on my own.
The program started and the venue was filling up with people. The hosts asked us if we were excited see the Idols, namely, Jessica, DeAndre Branckensick, Elise Testone, Ericka Van Pelt and Hee Jun Han. And that caught my attention, dragged me back to reality of claustrophobia. Only
five Idols were mentioned, and Colton
wasn’t one of them. COLTON WASN’T IN EASTWOOD! Are you freakin’ kidding me? No,
seriously? It was mind boggling and quite annoying. I could feel my heart being broken to pieces. I planned to leave early since, really, why would I stay if Colton wasn’t there? But I held on to my optimistic side and crossed my fingers, praying to God for Colton to show up. Maybe they just missed his name? Maybe they were mistaken? I stayed and hoped for what felt like forever.
Before the meet and greet, there was a local boy group that served as the front act slash entertainer… only they
didn’t entertain us. I could have shoved them off the stage had I been allowed to, because they weren’t really good singers, they just looked good (but not my type of look). It was funny because the audience obviously wanted for them to stop, too. When this boy group left the stage, everyone was thrilled to see the Idols. I was still hoping.
The five mentioned Idols took the stage and looked amazing. Jessica looked how she usually looked in TV, Hee Jun, too. DeAndre had more prominent features than what the tube showed us; Ericka’s hair was awesome; Elise was the prettiest from the bunch. It felt weird seeing them, but the heartache from Colton’s absence was stronger. Yes, he didn’t show up.
People started to shove and I couldn’t breathe. My legs were aching, somebody stepped on my foot. It was chaotic. I pushed my way out of the pandemonium and left the venue, angry, sad, dizzy, confused. Why did they not bring Colton with them? And how about Phillip Phillips? Wasn’t he the
winner? And geez, where was Hollie Cavanagh? Can’t they have all the ten finalists in one stage? And why were the five present not allowed to sing a few lines? And no photo opportunity? What the hell.
I left, but not before visiting Fully Booked and bumping into local celebrities (Derrick Monasterio and Kristoffer Martin). I didn’t wait for my best friend anymore because I was pissed off and tired. And I wanted to check Colton’s page to answer my questions. Apparently, I was just being stupid. I didn’t think of checking his page first before barging in an event. He was in Glorietta, with the other four finalists who weren’t in Eastwood. The two meet and greet events happened simultaneously. I just had to rant it out and face the shame that waited for me in school. It was really sad and frustrating. The yearning for him was so painful… even though it was overboard. I CANNOT STOP MY FANGIRL EMOTIONS FOR HIM.
On the other hand, if I knew prior to the event that he will be in Glorietta, I wouldn’t have gone anyway. I have no idea where Glorietta is and how to get there. It would have been more agonizing to
know where he really would be and
not do something about it. Oh well, at least I tried. I was just wrong with the information I had. At least I had proven to myself again that I’m really not that claustrophobic, that the Force of Being a Fangirl is stronger than pressing bodies and possibility of a stampede. I just hope that when he releases his debut album next year,
The Messenger, Manila will be part of his promotional concert. That was what I wanted in the first place anyway: Colton Dixon’s solo concert.
Let’s keep the optimism alive, okay?
Out of Topic slash Updates:
- Yes, my friends thought what happened to me was funny. They wouldn’t stop teasing me.
- I haven’t finished The City of Lost Souls (Cassandra Clare) because I’m seriously busy and my brain needs a little draining first.
- I don’t know if I’ll start reading it, but I have a copy of Young Lonigan (James T. Farrell). Maybe I will.
- My body aches. I’m dancing. Dancing – of all things. My memory for dance movements is improving.
- I want to write about FCC again because some things just happened that made me confused all over again, but I’m afraid it would annoy my blog (since I’ve been writing about him for a long time now). I’m still so confused. I want to cry.
Irony
I first started blogging around 2008 through
Multiply. Months after, Facebook came along and bankrupted every living social networking site. That moment I realized that I should put up a
real blog since I tend to abandon several of my online accounts. So I made this blog July of 2009. I was a high school senior that time. I was a newbie in real blogging so my grammar was
awful and posts were short and basically senseless. I wrote about my high school days in not more than 200 words. It was bogus. But when I think about it, I didn’t really have anything to write about. My four years in high school weren’t that colorful. I’m not someone from a novel or a TV show to have a brilliant and fun-filled experience. Remember that I’m talking about
high school – the most memorable years a person could have… but
not in my case.
It’s been two years since I graduated from high school. And I don’t miss the whole four years like how someone should miss it. High school was tedious. It was exhausting and awkward. Every subject was butt-hard. Teachers were demanding. Dress code was strict. Having a social life was harder since schedules were tighter. Free time wasn’t actually
free. Boys were half weird and half jerks. Public display of affection was notorious. There were too many embarrassing moments that it wouldn’t fit in a slum book – oh my God,
slum books! And let’s not even start with mad hormones. I hate thinking about those damned years. I only miss the people I met there, especially my best friend, and that’s it. High school as a whole wasn’t too delicate with me.
No, I didn’t get bullied; there were a couple of Mean Girls Episodes, but it wasn’t that bad and traumatic. I went to prom with a “date” I got assigned to. I was part of the Junior Cotillion and my dancing was dreadful. I got awards. I belonged in a small group of friends. I knew reading and basically got rotten in the library. I hadn’t been sent to the Guidance Office for negative reasons. I had boyfriends and some stupid flings. I was in various academic clubs. I had a normal high school. It was a very typical high school experience that it was already
dreary and a bit
sad. But I wasn’t really knowledgeable of what the other high school students go through, so I can’t describe what memorable is from forgettable; I can’t tell if mine was less magnificent than the other’s. Maybe I think that I had a sappy experience since I tend to read a lot of Young Adult novels and watch youth oriented shows, hence my perspectives of high school are the ones like Tiny Cooper’s and/or Rachel Berry’s: a bit chaotic, theatrical, pep rallies, pool parties, make out sessions, driving downtown. Mine wasn’t like that at all.
I remember two years ago that I didn’t know what to do with my life. I had a daily, erroneous drill: school, library, home. I only had some worth repeating moments when I was with my best friend, when we had small drama plays for this subject, when I participated in essay writing contests, or when there wasn’t a single homework to do. Class competition was like a
bull race: work as much and grab as many chances as you can, with the end goal of becoming Best Student Ever, plus confetti shower. It was like figuratively blowing one’s brains off. It was stressful even though it really shouldn’t be. It was more of collecting awards than creating memories. To top it all, everybody’s expecting a lot. And unfortunately, stress and expectations aren’t my thing.
It’s not that I hate high school. There were also times when I wouldn’t want things to stop, when I could’ve frozen the moment had I been allowed to. What I liked about high school was meeting my friends. As I said, they’re the only ones I miss when I think about those years. My best friend and I used to write letters for each other and bury it in some place we could easily detect, and retrieve them after a year. And then we’d go wild in this playground which was really just a patch of land with creaky swings, a slide and monkey bars. And then we’d walk in the library like we owned it and drive the librarian crazy. And then we’d invite our friends to see the latest
Harry Potter or
Twilight movie. And we’d run around the school grounds and wouldn’t stop until we’d piss someone off. These were good, crazy times. If it weren’t for these, I would’ve locked myself up in my room and refused to go to school. I’m grateful for the invention of friends. They’re the best thing in the world next to books.
High school was a rollercoaster ride – a
nauseating one. There were highs and lows, terror teachers and Kill Me Now moments, but I guess we need a dose of crazy medicine from time to time. And I’m still glad that all the bizarre situations I got myself into when I was young and overloading with hormones led me to being me right now. I’m still exploring what I’ll become in college (I still have two years of it), and I hope that after two years, I’d open my blog post with, “OMG guys! College was awesome, like ASDFGHJKL awesome!”
Fanfaronade of Idiosyncrasy
Fanfaronade – boasting or flaunting behaviour; bluster
Idiosyncrasy – a structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group
I’m not here to brag about my super awesome abilities that I’m sure are non-existent. Rather, I’m here to vain out and talk about myself.
Again. This is
my blog, and moreover, a
personal blog. And when someone says “personal blog”, it means majority of the posts are about the blogger/owner of the said blog, his views about certain topics that may or may not piss the heck out of him. If I wanted to write about fashion, I would’ve made a Fashion Blog, or a Food Blog for sumptuous cuisines, but I’m not a fashion enthusiast and I only eat what I think is appetizing and won’t upset my stomach. So let’s just stick with this type before everything else turns awfully atrocious than where it’s been heading to at the moment.
If you’ve been reading my blog for some time now, I bet you already know something about me; if you’ve been reading the July 2009 to September 2012 archives, we could be
parabatais! (Although, that isn’t a growing
obsession, is it?) I tend to write
a lot about myself. It’s kinda annoying, I know, but I have the stereotypical tedious, boring life that only some retirees have – so
bogus that the only way to give it an extra life is to write about it. My life is like a simple Mathematical equation that even a damn cat could evaluate: My Life = school + school clubs + home + some friends + books +
The Vampire Diaries + hopeless fangirling + blog + more books. Sometimes, Social Life is added to this equation, but that’s
sometimes – never
always.
So okay, right now I’ll be writing more about myself, a quality I have that I know since forever and one I learned last week or so, qualities that make up my indistinct and nameless personality.
I can be the best All-Around Guru. I’m still young to find myself in painful situation, but old enough to at least have an experience in quasi-painful ones. I don’t know a lot of mature things, but I’m mature enough to wind my way out of some of them. I’ve read some books that tackle uncharted territories, so I guess that counts as an experience. I never looked like one, but I can give advices that are true and helpful – about crumbling friendship, releasing one’s walls, frustrating love life, moving on, English grammar, Algebra 101, torn decisions. Some of my advices can hurt people, yes, but some truths are more agonizing than lies.
I’ve learned that people tend to live in a world of lies where they feel happy, and avoid seeing the truth for fear of losing the happiness they have. And I’ve learned that, in the end, it’s
always better to face the truth and be hurt (pain heals quickly anyway), than to believe in what
shouldn’t be believed in. Aldous Huxley once wrote, “Happiness is never grand.” Liberty from lies is always better than being shunned away from truths – even if it would cost you a happiness formed from tall tales.
I had wanted to be a psychologist before, since I like to give advices, but then I can always give advices even if I’m not entitled to. People just need to ask.
I read a lot but don’t study. I just noticed this a few weeks ago. I have so many fictions to read and I
stress myself about it. I shut people and the world off when I read. I dive into the fictitious world of monsters, seraph blades, babies decanted in bottles, a society without love, dying, fallen angels and magic. Sometimes I drown; sometimes I resurface just in time. I’m so caught up in a world of imaginary tales creatively written by fantastic authors, so caught up that I almost forget that I have a more complicated world behind me. There are times that I prioritize my reading first before my academic life. I don’t study when major exams are coming. I don’t give a fuck. I roughly scan a bit and then get bored and weary, so I go back to reading. Mom gets mad, of course. I know I just said that we should live in the world of truths, but I don’t actually
believe in
everything I read. Yes, I believe Hogwarts exists and so is Hogsmeade (no, really, they do), but I’m dubious about the Shadow World. Maybe in the 26th century, babies will be developed in bottles and we would have a
soma-holiday, but who freakin’ knows?
When the world is a little fucked up, I turn to books and escape away from reality. I feel like I’m Tessa Gray and/or Will Herondale [of
The Infernal Devices] when it comes to their love for literature (not their lifestyle – it’s too crazy for me). They live and breathe books, and most of the time, I also feel that way. I dive again and lose myself in the current of creative mind and other worlds. When I feel like drowning, I can always stop and resurface. I know my limitations, even if they kinda hurt.
Books are one of my happiness. I can’t and wouldn’t like to imagine a world without reading and the smell of pages. According to William Nicholson, “We read to know that we are not alone.” I’ll always love reading, even if my eyes won’t. Hence, I’ll
never be alone. (Shameless update! Current read:
The City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare;
The Saddest Summer of Samuel S by J.P. Donleavy.)
These are just two of the thing I want everyone to know. There are more to me than just an unflattering body and wide, curious eyes. Maybe I’ll write about them some other time, maybe I won’t. But this is my blog anyway, and my “My life is a simple mathematical equation” mantra won’t change in the near future, so trust that I will.
I’m kind of weird, am I not?
Disturbing Dark Shadows
A friend once said, “Worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” She said it came from Wiz Khalifa, a famous rapper artist nowadays. I would have agreed with this since it was my friend who told me about it, and hello,
Wiz Khalifa – amazing Wiz Khalifa, but realized that maybe worrying is not
always stupid. Right now, I’m worrying. It bothers me so much that I feel like I’m one of the characters in a fictional novel – with the dark past and a hovering shadow in the soul, and that the only way to erase these vagueness and disturbance is to stay away from people as much as possible or to slay the demons from within. (I’m reading
Clockwork Prince right now, so please understand.) I worry about a lot of things, from petty to serious ones. And I don’t know why I’m blogging about worrying to start my September, but this is what I feel right now, so I am.
I worry about my friends. To be honest, I can never really be the perfect friend: I don’t give a damn much about everything; I once said that I’m not emotional with interpersonal relationships; I don’t have a lot of friends since, I don’t know, maybe I tire them off with annoyance, so they eventually leave me. (Yep, I can be annoying most of the time.) I feel like I’m taking them for granted, that I only commune with them when I need something or when I feel like a shit in the middle of nowhere: unnoticed and alone. I can be alone, but at times, it feels so sad that even a company of books in a library is still not enough to make me feel okay. A friend told me that I kinda annoyed her because of my snobbish attitude, that I gave her one-word answers (this happened when I was covering books), and last night it just
bothered me that I even started crying a bit. Sometimes I don’t care about what my mood swings bring to people around me, but maybe sometimes it should be taken drastic measures. My mood swings fucking
hurt them. I guess I should really change for good – it would take massive effort and time for the transition to be successful, but if I’m really committed to this, effort and time wouldn’t feel a thing.
I worry about my hormones. Don’t even get me started. I still feel like my hormones act like I’m still an adolescent. Meh.
I worry about my reading. Of all the things I could worry about, I worry about my reading. My
reading, ladies and gentlemen. I’m such a slow reader right now, caused by a lot of distractions in all forms. I have resorted to reading two novels at a time to be able to reach my 100 reads goal by the end of the year. Aside from
Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare (which gives me all the feels – gasping and laughing and gasping all the time), I’m also reading
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (and so far it’s crazy shit). I can do this, can’t I? (Insert dubious emoticon here.)
I worry about the Earth. This may sound like I’m a hypocrite, but I do. It’s scary, all these natural calamities and wrath of Mother Nature. I watched the news last night and the aftereffects of the earthquakes in some parts of the country are both devastating and alerting. I haven’t any idea how we can avoid an earthquake since it happens in our tectonic plates (and as far as I know we can’t swim down to and repair these plates like we own them). There is this forecasted trembling that would have a magnitude of 7.9, and it scared the shit out of me. I’ve seen a lot of movies featuring natural calamities like this, but I don’t know if I can handle it like a bad ass heroine. I worry about the safety of my family and friends (I always do), but I can’t rip my shirt off and act like Superwoman to save all of them. I don’t have super powers; I have awful reflexes and more awful eyesight. Since there are no written remedies to these disasters, I guess we can all only resort to the power of praying and vigilance.
I worry about my feelings for FCC. I’m still confused whether what I feel for him is just a crazy teenage infatuation or if it’s love already. It’s just so perplexing that I can only survive the thought of it
without actually thinking about it. But a lot of times I
can’t stop thinking about him – he’s always there, tickling me with memories that only give me hot blood all over and another crap of uncertainty. And the most annoying thing is that I can’t stop
talking about it: I always confess to a friend what he’s like, what he always do [that I know of], the little words we exchanged from our little time, and his adorable sweetness that led me to this damned, uncontrollable, maddening feelings. I remedied into liking other boys in our school but that only proved futile; I can’t help comparing him to them. I’m so stupid: I know – oh, how I know – that he won’t
ever like me because,
duh, I’m
me, and that this is hopeless since there’s not even a dash of little hope to begin with.
Stupid stupid stupid stupid. I can’t stop being stupid. Ah, I’m smitten by this wonderful guy – and it’s both delighting and upsetting at the same time.
They say we should always expect the worse (I won’t say “expect the unexpected” because that’s just utterly senseless), but I say we should expect the worse while still holding the keys to Happy Land. Worrying, for me, isn’t always stupid; umbrellas, for me, are one of the best things invented throughout humanity. Maybe I’m holding an umbrella not because I’m waiting for the rain but because the sun is blazing outside. Maybe I have an umbrella because I’m just fascinated with umbrellas. Umbrellas are good: you can also use them to hit someone when necessary.
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
September: In A Nutshell
September was
awful. It was weird, annoying and tiring. I can summarize this month as (if we take the last couple of days as its basis)
I Feel Like Crap. I feel like crap for reasons of 1) this month had been extremely exhausting and now I feel sick; 2) I just made enemies with a prominent being in our Society so 3) now I feel like everyone hates me; 4) I missed Candy Fair 2012 because of cheer dance rehearsals; 5) I missed
Colton Dixon because of my stupidity; 6) I’m starting to doubt myself again; 7) I feel alone and utterly dim-witted; 8) my mom and I had a major nagging episode; 9) my feelings for FCC are maddeningly confusing; and 10) everything’s weird (even my writing is weird).
SEPTEMBER ARCHIVES
Disturbing Dark Shadows
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Wiz Khalifa once said, “Worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” But I love umbrellas – they serve a number of purposes, so I guess worrying is not
always stupid. Worrying braces us for worse things, making us all geared up to face these monsters lingering in dark, shadowy corners, slaying them to end the pain once and for all. I worry about a lot of things – from my friends, my reading (for heaven’s sake), FCC and to my hormones (of all things).
Fanfaronade of Idiosyncrasy
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Other than being a source of beautiful words, this blog post conveyed two character traits that I have, one which nobody knew and another that I just learned a few weeks back. If you might ask why I keep writing about myself instead of about sensible topics that could promote world peace and higher literacy rate, I say that my life is like a simple Mathematical equation – an equation so easy that even cats can evaluate. My Life = school + school clubs + home + some friends + books +
The Vampire Diaries + hopeless fangirling + blog + more books. So can you blame me?
Irony
Thursday, September 13, 2012
I never told much about my high school experience, what I really had gone through and what I thought of it, except for some a hundred word count posts I made some two years ago. My take about high school is
ironic, though. They say that those four years are the most fun a person could have, but as far as I know, it didn’t work that way for me. It had been hard to write about it because the friends I made from high school might read it and think that I’m an insensitive hypocrite, but I did anyway. I don’t miss being back in that classroom where terror teachers come and go, where everything is tensed up and a competition, where several embarrassing moments takes place. I wouldn’t want to go back time and relive those years, but I miss my friends. I miss my best friend. It’s basically bittersweet.
Rant 101
Friday, September 21, 2012
This day = worst ever.
STRIKING QUOTE
“The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate; their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is that he can improve.” © Hasidic saying, [as seen from]
Clockwork Prince, Cassandra Clare
BOOKS UPDATE
I had the most number of read books this month. I guess because I realized my slow reading would lead me to a futile 100 reads goal. So as much as possible, I read in my free time – and in my not-so free time. I sound like a book maniac, geez.
September reads:
Clockwork Angel (feels) and
Clockwork Prince (more feels), both by Cassandra Clare;
The Saddest Summer of Samuel S by J.P. Donleavy (annoying and weird Samuel);
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (Dystopia at its finest! Babies and bottles!);
Young Lonigan by James T. Farrell (funny fifteen year olds are funny).
Current read:
City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare (Jace Wayland and my heart); and
A Nest of Ninnies by John Ashbery and James Schuyler.
FAVORITE PERSON/S
I have no idea who my favorite person is for this month. I don’t have lots of friends, and the few ones had already been featured in this section in the past months. I would’ve written about my best friend but I can’t since we didn’t really meet this month, and writing about him would be better if I have some new memories with him. I would’ve written about Colton but that would be weird. I would’ve written about FCC but that would be
weirder – and I’d just hurt myself in the process. I can write about my brother but he’s family, so it may sound biased. I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave this section
person-less. Lame.
FAVORITE PHOTO/GIF ©
Demi Lovato is just so adorable in here. She’s swooning! It’s so obvious when she meets a cute contestant auditioning for
The X Factor USA: her eyes lit up and her smile is funny. She becomes goofy and embarrassed and flushed all around. Jesus heavens, I love her! She’s inspiring and talented. I love her wardrobe and her hair is always awesome. I didn’t like Demi in her
Camp Rock days, but my heart grew fond of her when I started watching
Sonny with a Chance. Now I’m a fangirl. I wish she’d do a duet with
Cameron Mitchell or Colton – that’d be epi-i-ic!
SONGS OF THE MONTH
CHAMPAGNE TO POP
I’ve seen
I Do Bidoo Bidoo with Mary Ann and Khaye! We had so much fun since it felt like we owned the cinema.
Sam Concepcion was fantastic. The Eugene-Ogie love scene was both revolting and hilarious. And the songs were sung perfectly. I’m running out of adjectives to describe this movie!
We had a successful Sports Festival (25 – 27 September). The Institute of Liberal Arts placed second in the Cheer Dance Competition. It wasn’t the award we wanted, but considering the short rehearsals days we had, being second best is already a big thing. We are such born performers!
Aubrey Lavern (also an ILA member) and I attended the GMA News TV Learniversity last 28 September 2012, Saturday, at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines. The Broadcasting seminar we attended had Ms.
Kara David, a GMA News and Current Affairs anchor, as its speaker. We had so much fun and learned a lot from her talk about her experiences in the media industry. “All the glamour that comes with the Broadcasting industry involves a lot of hard work.”
October Activity List:
Rotaract Club Library Corner (the original schedule was moved to 10 October)
Sam’s 20th birthday (17 October)
Colton’s 21st birthday (19 October)
School break! Halloween!
I hope I won’t feel like crap this October. I need more humorous books and friends.
Rant 101
So last Wednesday (19 September 2012), I met
Colton Dixon…
I did not. It would have been one of my favorite days had I not been so stupid. It was such an
epic fail, that moment. It was embarrassing that it was already funny.
My brother told me a week before the event that
American Idol finalists will be in Eastwood Mall for some meet and greet, before they hold their concert in Smart Araneta Coliseum (21 September). Because I’m in love with Colton and would do anything to experience his glory, I got so excited and even invited my best friend to come with me.
Come Wednesday, I missed cheer dance rehearsals since the schedule was in conflict. I was just so stoked to see him; I didn’t even care about the other Idols.
So in Eastwood Mall, everyone was all about Jessica Sanchez. That wasn’t news to me. Everybody wanted to see her, some even had their shirts printed with her face, her fan club was present; all the people talked about was Jessica. And there I was, waiting for my best friend and daydreaming about Colton, wearing my Ghostbusters shirt and San Diego cap. I was searching for some Filipino Messengers so I wouldn’t feel so alone. It was futile. So I was basically zoning out on my own.
The program started and the venue was filling up with people. The hosts asked us if we were excited see the Idols, namely, Jessica, DeAndre Branckensick, Elise Testone, Ericka Van Pelt and Hee Jun Han. And that caught my attention, dragged me back to reality of claustrophobia. Only
five Idols were mentioned, and Colton
wasn’t one of them. COLTON WASN’T IN EASTWOOD! Are you freakin’ kidding me? No,
seriously? It was mind boggling and quite annoying. I could feel my heart being broken to pieces. I planned to leave early since, really, why would I stay if Colton wasn’t there? But I held on to my optimistic side and crossed my fingers, praying to God for Colton to show up. Maybe they just missed his name? Maybe they were mistaken? I stayed and hoped for what felt like forever.
Before the meet and greet, there was a local boy group that served as the front act slash entertainer… only they
didn’t entertain us. I could have shoved them off the stage had I been allowed to, because they weren’t really good singers, they just looked good (but not my type of look). It was funny because the audience obviously wanted for them to stop, too. When this boy group left the stage, everyone was thrilled to see the Idols. I was still hoping.
The five mentioned Idols took the stage and looked amazing. Jessica looked how she usually looked in TV, Hee Jun, too. DeAndre had more prominent features than what the tube showed us; Ericka’s hair was awesome; Elise was the prettiest from the bunch. It felt weird seeing them, but the heartache from Colton’s absence was stronger. Yes, he didn’t show up.
People started to shove and I couldn’t breathe. My legs were aching, somebody stepped on my foot. It was chaotic. I pushed my way out of the pandemonium and left the venue, angry, sad, dizzy, confused. Why did they not bring Colton with them? And how about Phillip Phillips? Wasn’t he the
winner? And geez, where was Hollie Cavanagh? Can’t they have all the ten finalists in one stage? And why were the five present not allowed to sing a few lines? And no photo opportunity? What the hell.
I left, but not before visiting Fully Booked and bumping into local celebrities (Derrick Monasterio and Kristoffer Martin). I didn’t wait for my best friend anymore because I was pissed off and tired. And I wanted to check Colton’s page to answer my questions. Apparently, I was just being stupid. I didn’t think of checking his page first before barging in an event. He was in Glorietta, with the other four finalists who weren’t in Eastwood. The two meet and greet events happened simultaneously. I just had to rant it out and face the shame that waited for me in school. It was really sad and frustrating. The yearning for him was so painful… even though it was overboard. I CANNOT STOP MY FANGIRL EMOTIONS FOR HIM.
On the other hand, if I knew prior to the event that he will be in Glorietta, I wouldn’t have gone anyway. I have no idea where Glorietta is and how to get there. It would have been more agonizing to
know where he really would be and
not do something about it. Oh well, at least I tried. I was just wrong with the information I had. At least I had proven to myself again that I’m really not that claustrophobic, that the Force of Being a Fangirl is stronger than pressing bodies and possibility of a stampede. I just hope that when he releases his debut album next year,
The Messenger, Manila will be part of his promotional concert. That was what I wanted in the first place anyway: Colton Dixon’s solo concert.
Let’s keep the optimism alive, okay?
Out of Topic slash Updates:
- Yes, my friends thought what happened to me was funny. They wouldn’t stop teasing me.
- I haven’t finished The City of Lost Souls (Cassandra Clare) because I’m seriously busy and my brain needs a little draining first.
- I don’t know if I’ll start reading it, but I have a copy of Young Lonigan (James T. Farrell). Maybe I will.
- My body aches. I’m dancing. Dancing – of all things. My memory for dance movements is improving.
- I want to write about FCC again because some things just happened that made me confused all over again, but I’m afraid it would annoy my blog (since I’ve been writing about him for a long time now). I’m still so confused. I want to cry.
Irony
I first started blogging around 2008 through
Multiply. Months after, Facebook came along and bankrupted every living social networking site. That moment I realized that I should put up a
real blog since I tend to abandon several of my online accounts. So I made this blog July of 2009. I was a high school senior that time. I was a newbie in real blogging so my grammar was
awful and posts were short and basically senseless. I wrote about my high school days in not more than 200 words. It was bogus. But when I think about it, I didn’t really have anything to write about. My four years in high school weren’t that colorful. I’m not someone from a novel or a TV show to have a brilliant and fun-filled experience. Remember that I’m talking about
high school – the most memorable years a person could have… but
not in my case.
It’s been two years since I graduated from high school. And I don’t miss the whole four years like how someone should miss it. High school was tedious. It was exhausting and awkward. Every subject was butt-hard. Teachers were demanding. Dress code was strict. Having a social life was harder since schedules were tighter. Free time wasn’t actually
free. Boys were half weird and half jerks. Public display of affection was notorious. There were too many embarrassing moments that it wouldn’t fit in a slum book – oh my God,
slum books! And let’s not even start with mad hormones. I hate thinking about those damned years. I only miss the people I met there, especially my best friend, and that’s it. High school as a whole wasn’t too delicate with me.
No, I didn’t get bullied; there were a couple of Mean Girls Episodes, but it wasn’t that bad and traumatic. I went to prom with a “date” I got assigned to. I was part of the Junior Cotillion and my dancing was dreadful. I got awards. I belonged in a small group of friends. I knew reading and basically got rotten in the library. I hadn’t been sent to the Guidance Office for negative reasons. I had boyfriends and some stupid flings. I was in various academic clubs. I had a normal high school. It was a very typical high school experience that it was already
dreary and a bit
sad. But I wasn’t really knowledgeable of what the other high school students go through, so I can’t describe what memorable is from forgettable; I can’t tell if mine was less magnificent than the other’s. Maybe I think that I had a sappy experience since I tend to read a lot of Young Adult novels and watch youth oriented shows, hence my perspectives of high school are the ones like Tiny Cooper’s and/or Rachel Berry’s: a bit chaotic, theatrical, pep rallies, pool parties, make out sessions, driving downtown. Mine wasn’t like that at all.
I remember two years ago that I didn’t know what to do with my life. I had a daily, erroneous drill: school, library, home. I only had some worth repeating moments when I was with my best friend, when we had small drama plays for this subject, when I participated in essay writing contests, or when there wasn’t a single homework to do. Class competition was like a
bull race: work as much and grab as many chances as you can, with the end goal of becoming Best Student Ever, plus confetti shower. It was like figuratively blowing one’s brains off. It was stressful even though it really shouldn’t be. It was more of collecting awards than creating memories. To top it all, everybody’s expecting a lot. And unfortunately, stress and expectations aren’t my thing.
It’s not that I hate high school. There were also times when I wouldn’t want things to stop, when I could’ve frozen the moment had I been allowed to. What I liked about high school was meeting my friends. As I said, they’re the only ones I miss when I think about those years. My best friend and I used to write letters for each other and bury it in some place we could easily detect, and retrieve them after a year. And then we’d go wild in this playground which was really just a patch of land with creaky swings, a slide and monkey bars. And then we’d walk in the library like we owned it and drive the librarian crazy. And then we’d invite our friends to see the latest
Harry Potter or
Twilight movie. And we’d run around the school grounds and wouldn’t stop until we’d piss someone off. These were good, crazy times. If it weren’t for these, I would’ve locked myself up in my room and refused to go to school. I’m grateful for the invention of friends. They’re the best thing in the world next to books.
High school was a rollercoaster ride – a
nauseating one. There were highs and lows, terror teachers and Kill Me Now moments, but I guess we need a dose of crazy medicine from time to time. And I’m still glad that all the bizarre situations I got myself into when I was young and overloading with hormones led me to being me right now. I’m still exploring what I’ll become in college (I still have two years of it), and I hope that after two years, I’d open my blog post with, “OMG guys! College was awesome, like ASDFGHJKL awesome!”
Fanfaronade of Idiosyncrasy
Fanfaronade – boasting or flaunting behaviour; bluster
Idiosyncrasy – a structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group
I’m not here to brag about my super awesome abilities that I’m sure are non-existent. Rather, I’m here to vain out and talk about myself.
Again. This is
my blog, and moreover, a
personal blog. And when someone says “personal blog”, it means majority of the posts are about the blogger/owner of the said blog, his views about certain topics that may or may not piss the heck out of him. If I wanted to write about fashion, I would’ve made a Fashion Blog, or a Food Blog for sumptuous cuisines, but I’m not a fashion enthusiast and I only eat what I think is appetizing and won’t upset my stomach. So let’s just stick with this type before everything else turns awfully atrocious than where it’s been heading to at the moment.
If you’ve been reading my blog for some time now, I bet you already know something about me; if you’ve been reading the July 2009 to September 2012 archives, we could be
parabatais! (Although, that isn’t a growing
obsession, is it?) I tend to write
a lot about myself. It’s kinda annoying, I know, but I have the stereotypical tedious, boring life that only some retirees have – so
bogus that the only way to give it an extra life is to write about it. My life is like a simple Mathematical equation that even a damn cat could evaluate: My Life = school + school clubs + home + some friends + books +
The Vampire Diaries + hopeless fangirling + blog + more books. Sometimes, Social Life is added to this equation, but that’s
sometimes – never
always.
So okay, right now I’ll be writing more about myself, a quality I have that I know since forever and one I learned last week or so, qualities that make up my indistinct and nameless personality.
I can be the best All-Around Guru. I’m still young to find myself in painful situation, but old enough to at least have an experience in quasi-painful ones. I don’t know a lot of mature things, but I’m mature enough to wind my way out of some of them. I’ve read some books that tackle uncharted territories, so I guess that counts as an experience. I never looked like one, but I can give advices that are true and helpful – about crumbling friendship, releasing one’s walls, frustrating love life, moving on, English grammar, Algebra 101, torn decisions. Some of my advices can hurt people, yes, but some truths are more agonizing than lies.
I’ve learned that people tend to live in a world of lies where they feel happy, and avoid seeing the truth for fear of losing the happiness they have. And I’ve learned that, in the end, it’s
always better to face the truth and be hurt (pain heals quickly anyway), than to believe in what
shouldn’t be believed in. Aldous Huxley once wrote, “Happiness is never grand.” Liberty from lies is always better than being shunned away from truths – even if it would cost you a happiness formed from tall tales.
I had wanted to be a psychologist before, since I like to give advices, but then I can always give advices even if I’m not entitled to. People just need to ask.
I read a lot but don’t study. I just noticed this a few weeks ago. I have so many fictions to read and I
stress myself about it. I shut people and the world off when I read. I dive into the fictitious world of monsters, seraph blades, babies decanted in bottles, a society without love, dying, fallen angels and magic. Sometimes I drown; sometimes I resurface just in time. I’m so caught up in a world of imaginary tales creatively written by fantastic authors, so caught up that I almost forget that I have a more complicated world behind me. There are times that I prioritize my reading first before my academic life. I don’t study when major exams are coming. I don’t give a fuck. I roughly scan a bit and then get bored and weary, so I go back to reading. Mom gets mad, of course. I know I just said that we should live in the world of truths, but I don’t actually
believe in
everything I read. Yes, I believe Hogwarts exists and so is Hogsmeade (no, really, they do), but I’m dubious about the Shadow World. Maybe in the 26th century, babies will be developed in bottles and we would have a
soma-holiday, but who freakin’ knows?
When the world is a little fucked up, I turn to books and escape away from reality. I feel like I’m Tessa Gray and/or Will Herondale [of
The Infernal Devices] when it comes to their love for literature (not their lifestyle – it’s too crazy for me). They live and breathe books, and most of the time, I also feel that way. I dive again and lose myself in the current of creative mind and other worlds. When I feel like drowning, I can always stop and resurface. I know my limitations, even if they kinda hurt.
Books are one of my happiness. I can’t and wouldn’t like to imagine a world without reading and the smell of pages. According to William Nicholson, “We read to know that we are not alone.” I’ll always love reading, even if my eyes won’t. Hence, I’ll
never be alone. (Shameless update! Current read:
The City of Lost Souls by Cassandra Clare;
The Saddest Summer of Samuel S by J.P. Donleavy.)
These are just two of the thing I want everyone to know. There are more to me than just an unflattering body and wide, curious eyes. Maybe I’ll write about them some other time, maybe I won’t. But this is my blog anyway, and my “My life is a simple mathematical equation” mantra won’t change in the near future, so trust that I will.
I’m kind of weird, am I not?
Disturbing Dark Shadows
A friend once said, “Worrying is stupid. It’s like walking around with an umbrella waiting for it to rain.” She said it came from Wiz Khalifa, a famous rapper artist nowadays. I would have agreed with this since it was my friend who told me about it, and hello,
Wiz Khalifa – amazing Wiz Khalifa, but realized that maybe worrying is not
always stupid. Right now, I’m worrying. It bothers me so much that I feel like I’m one of the characters in a fictional novel – with the dark past and a hovering shadow in the soul, and that the only way to erase these vagueness and disturbance is to stay away from people as much as possible or to slay the demons from within. (I’m reading
Clockwork Prince right now, so please understand.) I worry about a lot of things, from petty to serious ones. And I don’t know why I’m blogging about worrying to start my September, but this is what I feel right now, so I am.
I worry about my friends. To be honest, I can never really be the perfect friend: I don’t give a damn much about everything; I once said that I’m not emotional with interpersonal relationships; I don’t have a lot of friends since, I don’t know, maybe I tire them off with annoyance, so they eventually leave me. (Yep, I can be annoying most of the time.) I feel like I’m taking them for granted, that I only commune with them when I need something or when I feel like a shit in the middle of nowhere: unnoticed and alone. I can be alone, but at times, it feels so sad that even a company of books in a library is still not enough to make me feel okay. A friend told me that I kinda annoyed her because of my snobbish attitude, that I gave her one-word answers (this happened when I was covering books), and last night it just
bothered me that I even started crying a bit. Sometimes I don’t care about what my mood swings bring to people around me, but maybe sometimes it should be taken drastic measures. My mood swings fucking
hurt them. I guess I should really change for good – it would take massive effort and time for the transition to be successful, but if I’m really committed to this, effort and time wouldn’t feel a thing.
I worry about my hormones. Don’t even get me started. I still feel like my hormones act like I’m still an adolescent. Meh.
I worry about my reading. Of all the things I could worry about, I worry about my reading. My
reading, ladies and gentlemen. I’m such a slow reader right now, caused by a lot of distractions in all forms. I have resorted to reading two novels at a time to be able to reach my 100 reads goal by the end of the year. Aside from
Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare (which gives me all the feels – gasping and laughing and gasping all the time), I’m also reading
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (and so far it’s crazy shit). I can do this, can’t I? (Insert dubious emoticon here.)
I worry about the Earth. This may sound like I’m a hypocrite, but I do. It’s scary, all these natural calamities and wrath of Mother Nature. I watched the news last night and the aftereffects of the earthquakes in some parts of the country are both devastating and alerting. I haven’t any idea how we can avoid an earthquake since it happens in our tectonic plates (and as far as I know we can’t swim down to and repair these plates like we own them). There is this forecasted trembling that would have a magnitude of 7.9, and it scared the shit out of me. I’ve seen a lot of movies featuring natural calamities like this, but I don’t know if I can handle it like a bad ass heroine. I worry about the safety of my family and friends (I always do), but I can’t rip my shirt off and act like Superwoman to save all of them. I don’t have super powers; I have awful reflexes and more awful eyesight. Since there are no written remedies to these disasters, I guess we can all only resort to the power of praying and vigilance.
I worry about my feelings for FCC. I’m still confused whether what I feel for him is just a crazy teenage infatuation or if it’s love already. It’s just so perplexing that I can only survive the thought of it
without actually thinking about it. But a lot of times I
can’t stop thinking about him – he’s always there, tickling me with memories that only give me hot blood all over and another crap of uncertainty. And the most annoying thing is that I can’t stop
talking about it: I always confess to a friend what he’s like, what he always do [that I know of], the little words we exchanged from our little time, and his adorable sweetness that led me to this damned, uncontrollable, maddening feelings. I remedied into liking other boys in our school but that only proved futile; I can’t help comparing him to them. I’m so stupid: I know – oh, how I know – that he won’t
ever like me because,
duh, I’m
me, and that this is hopeless since there’s not even a dash of little hope to begin with.
Stupid stupid stupid stupid. I can’t stop being stupid. Ah, I’m smitten by this wonderful guy – and it’s both delighting and upsetting at the same time.
They say we should always expect the worse (I won’t say “expect the unexpected” because that’s just utterly senseless), but I say we should expect the worse while still holding the keys to Happy Land. Worrying, for me, isn’t always stupid; umbrellas, for me, are one of the best things invented throughout humanity. Maybe I’m holding an umbrella not because I’m waiting for the rain but because the sun is blazing outside. Maybe I have an umbrella because I’m just fascinated with umbrellas. Umbrellas are good: you can also use them to hit someone when necessary.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
