Adventures and Stupid Thoughts
April 1, 2011
I was supposed to write/blog about what happened today the next days, but a delay would definitely lessen my euphoria (and sadness) and in the end would lose the essence of it. So before I go to the point where I don’t want to write about it anymore, I might as well start doing so. I actually don’t know where to begin. Okay, I’ll try.
fayeistheflyest, atzs, katunicahija @ tumblr! ♥
Photos (c) Kathleen Valle
Earlier this afternoon, Zandro and Kathleen went to my place to fetch me for our “planned” spree. When I say “planned,” I meant it the other way around. I actually didn’t know that we were going out. I thought Zandro just wanted us to visit him and do some usual walks around the area. They had planned spontaneously: go to Quiapo to buy some flair something; to Katipunan just to eat at
Cello’s; to Gateway to do I-don’t-know-what; to
Trinoma just for the sake of doing so; and to
SM Marikina because it’s the nearest mall to go to. After all the squabbles about where to go and weighing every option, we ended up going to UP Diliman. We actually didn’t know how to go there, so we just let our feet and the
jeepney driver take us to where we need to go. We got there successfully, and so it was the start of our so-called “adventures.”
It was my first time to actually see the renowned
UP Oblation statue, exposing the muscular body of Fernando Poe Sr. and the famous fig leaf covering his “sword downstairs” (okay, his genitals). I thought I was going to be moved by its mere presence. I was waiting for the glorious light of wisdom and freedom it symbolizes to shine on me, but it didn’t come. I wasn’t influenced at all. It was a bit odd, but I guess I had just overestimated that immobile stone or whatever-it’s-made-from can do. So we went to the
College of Arts and Letters, and bad news popped at my face: deadline of submission of application forms was on the 31st of March. And just like what I said before, the Greek Atlas had given me the burden of carrying the world on my shoulders all over again. Maybe even twice as heavy. I was so stupid to be so sure of this plan, and now that it’s all ruined, I don’t have any alternative plans on my list. Maybe UP Diliman isn’t really for me. Maybe God has other plans, and going to that university is not on it.
I really don’t know what my reactions will be: frustrated? Mad? Sad? Depressed (again)? I wanted to scream or cry, but I couldn’t, because why would I? I was with my best friend and my baby friend. I couldn’t imagine crying in front of them, and what will be my tears for? Nothing. Maybe tonight I’d cry and start thinking alternative plans again. When would this stop, really? I hope there’s someone out there who could help me or maybe send me to other countries through scholarship.
Fat chance.
So after that, I tried to temporarily remove those depressing thoughts, and maybe replace them with happier ones. We ate a variety of glazed
Cello’s doughnuts courtesy of Kathleen. We talked about random stuff in college. I learned that: My babe Zandro is in love already, and it’s not imaginary; Kathleen was having small problems with making friends but still survives; we are all struggling to balance our life inside and outside the school; we all think that high school reunion this early is a ridiculous idea; some of the glazed doughnuts have weird tastes; befriending a pregnant schoolmate would guarantee you free snacks (not that I’m advising you to take advantage of them and their cravings); and that I’m still worried about my future in college.
Goodness, I don’t know what to do. I want this to end already. I don’t want to be the estranged student with no future but to transfer every year to different schools and to read books and blog all day. What’s the point of graduating with the highest honors if I’d end up wrecked and with a bad record? I guess I won’t be going to my dream university anymore.
I just know. It’s like a slap on my face. I don’t really care. I just wanted to finish a degree and land a good job in the future. I’m just afraid of what my friends, professors and college deans would think of where I ended up. There are a lot of expectations hanging around me, and okay, it’s a shame if I end up unsuccessful. Maybe I’m too insecure and thinking too much about my reputation. Ugh, I want to die.
On a cheerful note (sarcasm applied), I don’t really know how this day went. I’m happy but still sad. I had fun but there are a lot of things to do. I’m euphoric but also worried. I want to just be happy but I also want to cry. Great God, please help me understand these things, because I’m going to die if I don’t.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Adventures and Stupid Thoughts
April 1, 2011
I was supposed to write/blog about what happened today the next days, but a delay would definitely lessen my euphoria (and sadness) and in the end would lose the essence of it. So before I go to the point where I don’t want to write about it anymore, I might as well start doing so. I actually don’t know where to begin. Okay, I’ll try.
fayeistheflyest, atzs, katunicahija @ tumblr! ♥
Photos (c) Kathleen Valle
Earlier this afternoon, Zandro and Kathleen went to my place to fetch me for our “planned” spree. When I say “planned,” I meant it the other way around. I actually didn’t know that we were going out. I thought Zandro just wanted us to visit him and do some usual walks around the area. They had planned spontaneously: go to Quiapo to buy some flair something; to Katipunan just to eat at
Cello’s; to Gateway to do I-don’t-know-what; to
Trinoma just for the sake of doing so; and to
SM Marikina because it’s the nearest mall to go to. After all the squabbles about where to go and weighing every option, we ended up going to UP Diliman. We actually didn’t know how to go there, so we just let our feet and the
jeepney driver take us to where we need to go. We got there successfully, and so it was the start of our so-called “adventures.”
It was my first time to actually see the renowned
UP Oblation statue, exposing the muscular body of Fernando Poe Sr. and the famous fig leaf covering his “sword downstairs” (okay, his genitals). I thought I was going to be moved by its mere presence. I was waiting for the glorious light of wisdom and freedom it symbolizes to shine on me, but it didn’t come. I wasn’t influenced at all. It was a bit odd, but I guess I had just overestimated that immobile stone or whatever-it’s-made-from can do. So we went to the
College of Arts and Letters, and bad news popped at my face: deadline of submission of application forms was on the 31st of March. And just like what I said before, the Greek Atlas had given me the burden of carrying the world on my shoulders all over again. Maybe even twice as heavy. I was so stupid to be so sure of this plan, and now that it’s all ruined, I don’t have any alternative plans on my list. Maybe UP Diliman isn’t really for me. Maybe God has other plans, and going to that university is not on it.
I really don’t know what my reactions will be: frustrated? Mad? Sad? Depressed (again)? I wanted to scream or cry, but I couldn’t, because why would I? I was with my best friend and my baby friend. I couldn’t imagine crying in front of them, and what will be my tears for? Nothing. Maybe tonight I’d cry and start thinking alternative plans again. When would this stop, really? I hope there’s someone out there who could help me or maybe send me to other countries through scholarship.
Fat chance.So after that, I tried to temporarily remove those depressing thoughts, and maybe replace them with happier ones. We ate a variety of glazed
Cello’s doughnuts courtesy of Kathleen. We talked about random stuff in college. I learned that: My babe Zandro is in love already, and it’s not imaginary; Kathleen was having small problems with making friends but still survives; we are all struggling to balance our life inside and outside the school; we all think that high school reunion this early is a ridiculous idea; some of the glazed doughnuts have weird tastes; befriending a pregnant schoolmate would guarantee you free snacks (not that I’m advising you to take advantage of them and their cravings); and that I’m still worried about my future in college.
Goodness, I don’t know what to do. I want this to end already. I don’t want to be the estranged student with no future but to transfer every year to different schools and to read books and blog all day. What’s the point of graduating with the highest honors if I’d end up wrecked and with a bad record? I guess I won’t be going to my dream university anymore.
I just know. It’s like a slap on my face. I don’t really care. I just wanted to finish a degree and land a good job in the future. I’m just afraid of what my friends, professors and college deans would think of where I ended up. There are a lot of expectations hanging around me, and okay, it’s a shame if I end up unsuccessful. Maybe I’m too insecure and thinking too much about my reputation. Ugh, I want to die.
On a cheerful note (sarcasm applied), I don’t really know how this day went. I’m happy but still sad. I had fun but there are a lot of things to do. I’m euphoric but also worried. I want to just be happy but I also want to cry. Great God, please help me understand these things, because I’m going to die if I don’t.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
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Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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