Toasted
Summer.
Three months of sun, free time, procrastination and being broke. For others, summer is heaven, even though it feels like hell. No school, no homework, all the time to catch up with
The Carrie Diaries and/or
Adventure Time (what a combination). No demanding professors, no alarm clocks, and no requirement to wear that itchy and hideous uniform. Summer is fun! Summer is what everyone needs! Summer is the best thing that has ever happened to the universe (next to sodas)!
Not really. Not at all. Not for me. (Yep, this is the cue for my unyielding egotistic posts. It’s about me from this point on.)
For starters, I’m
not fond of summers. Toasting under the sun without some butter is not my kind of fun. This weather is my least favorite one. Yes, I’m that kind of student who almost always wishes that school’s out and vacation’s in, but in the end, I’d always pick a day when I have something to do. I’d rather go to school and face Statistics than wake up every morning and check out what’s on TV. (And okay, I’d rather see my crush in school than just stare at his Facebook profile like it’ll magically speak to me.) I’d rather face the day with the goal of impressing my professors and finishing today’s crossword puzzle than face nothing at all. Basically, for me, Summer = 0 work = 0 fun.
How about visiting beaches/resorts? And what, get sunburned and suffer all summer long? No, thanks. I have a low melanin count, and my past experiences with the salty water-and-sun combination taught me to stay away from them as much as possible. When I was younger, I’d go crazy over beaches and sand and waves (and that illusionary blue color of the pool), but that changed when I got stung by a jellyfish and then suffered sunburn that my nose looked like Rudolf’s. It’s so hard to get my natural skin color back, so I basically banned swimming in my Summer Fun Activities list. And if you ask me, I’d rather go hiking or foresting (not sure of this word). I learned to like trees and the greeneries better. Or maybe we can go to historical sites and feed our brain with something more useful. Once, my mom made a proposal to go to Boracay. My initial reaction: what, no! Let’s go to Vigan or maybe just roam around Cebu. Not that I’m degrading Boracay or anything (I think it’s first class), but people clad in their bikinis with their visible tan lines isn’t my most favorite sight in the world. And besides, Boracay is packed right now. How can I enjoy it when I couldn’t move freely without bumping into people’s boobs or accidentally touching their butts? Let’s just please visit Vigan and rent a
kalesa or eat
longganisa or something. (Disclaimer: I’m not un-promoting Boracay. You should go visit if you want to. Don’t let my words discourage you.)
What about friends, catching up, small reunions? Screw this. You know that thing with planning with friends? It
never happens. You catch up and talk and decide to meet this summer with the rest of the gang, and you get all excited and plan what to wear, and when summer comes, everyone is either out of town or too busy to be bothered.
Poof, that precious plan just v-a-nished. Some things feel so much better when done unplanned. I know we have this “If you fail to plan, you plan to fail”, but geez, doesn’t it feel better when you just bump into someone you know in the mall or on the streets, and then all of a sudden it’s a reunion? (Although, I recommend that you always look good so you wouldn’t look wasted/wrecked in your tagged photos.) And anyway, if I feel like catching up with them, I’d need to miss them first. I don’t. I don’t miss them yet; it’s still too early for that stuff. Hello, guys, I don’t miss you. (I’m such a good friend, don’t you think?)
So if you don’t like beaches and reunions, what hell do you do in three months? Nothing. Maybe a little movie marathons and my epically lame creative art works, a lot of reading, and some more reading. I’m a dork this way. I’m a dork in school, and I’m a dork outside school. Anyway, this summer, if I can find some job that suits me, I’ll do it. If my best friend and I ever come into making butterbeers, I’ll blog about it. I want to see friends that I actually miss. I’ll finish
The Lorien Legacy (Pittacus Lore) and also maybe
The Maze Runner (James Dashner). I want to live in Fully Booked for one whole day. I’ll be active in our church’s Media Ministry and vote for the May Senatorial Elections. That looks like a good summer to me (although nothing looks better than Cody Simpson’s summers).
Anyway, I have my summer and you have your summer and I hope everyone’s going to have their dream summer, so happy summer! (I think I used “summer” too much.)
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Toasted
Summer.
Three months of sun, free time, procrastination and being broke. For others, summer is heaven, even though it feels like hell. No school, no homework, all the time to catch up with
The Carrie Diaries and/or
Adventure Time (what a combination). No demanding professors, no alarm clocks, and no requirement to wear that itchy and hideous uniform. Summer is fun! Summer is what everyone needs! Summer is the best thing that has ever happened to the universe (next to sodas)!
Not really. Not at all. Not for me. (Yep, this is the cue for my unyielding egotistic posts. It’s about me from this point on.)
For starters, I’m
not fond of summers. Toasting under the sun without some butter is not my kind of fun. This weather is my least favorite one. Yes, I’m that kind of student who almost always wishes that school’s out and vacation’s in, but in the end, I’d always pick a day when I have something to do. I’d rather go to school and face Statistics than wake up every morning and check out what’s on TV. (And okay, I’d rather see my crush in school than just stare at his Facebook profile like it’ll magically speak to me.) I’d rather face the day with the goal of impressing my professors and finishing today’s crossword puzzle than face nothing at all. Basically, for me, Summer = 0 work = 0 fun.
How about visiting beaches/resorts? And what, get sunburned and suffer all summer long? No, thanks. I have a low melanin count, and my past experiences with the salty water-and-sun combination taught me to stay away from them as much as possible. When I was younger, I’d go crazy over beaches and sand and waves (and that illusionary blue color of the pool), but that changed when I got stung by a jellyfish and then suffered sunburn that my nose looked like Rudolf’s. It’s so hard to get my natural skin color back, so I basically banned swimming in my Summer Fun Activities list. And if you ask me, I’d rather go hiking or foresting (not sure of this word). I learned to like trees and the greeneries better. Or maybe we can go to historical sites and feed our brain with something more useful. Once, my mom made a proposal to go to Boracay. My initial reaction: what, no! Let’s go to Vigan or maybe just roam around Cebu. Not that I’m degrading Boracay or anything (I think it’s first class), but people clad in their bikinis with their visible tan lines isn’t my most favorite sight in the world. And besides, Boracay is packed right now. How can I enjoy it when I couldn’t move freely without bumping into people’s boobs or accidentally touching their butts? Let’s just please visit Vigan and rent a
kalesa or eat
longganisa or something. (Disclaimer: I’m not un-promoting Boracay. You should go visit if you want to. Don’t let my words discourage you.)
What about friends, catching up, small reunions? Screw this. You know that thing with planning with friends? It
never happens. You catch up and talk and decide to meet this summer with the rest of the gang, and you get all excited and plan what to wear, and when summer comes, everyone is either out of town or too busy to be bothered.
Poof, that precious plan just v-a-nished. Some things feel so much better when done unplanned. I know we have this “If you fail to plan, you plan to fail”, but geez, doesn’t it feel better when you just bump into someone you know in the mall or on the streets, and then all of a sudden it’s a reunion? (Although, I recommend that you always look good so you wouldn’t look wasted/wrecked in your tagged photos.) And anyway, if I feel like catching up with them, I’d need to miss them first. I don’t. I don’t miss them yet; it’s still too early for that stuff. Hello, guys, I don’t miss you. (I’m such a good friend, don’t you think?)
So if you don’t like beaches and reunions, what hell do you do in three months? Nothing. Maybe a little movie marathons and my epically lame creative art works, a lot of reading, and some more reading. I’m a dork this way. I’m a dork in school, and I’m a dork outside school. Anyway, this summer, if I can find some job that suits me, I’ll do it. If my best friend and I ever come into making butterbeers, I’ll blog about it. I want to see friends that I actually miss. I’ll finish
The Lorien Legacy (Pittacus Lore) and also maybe
The Maze Runner (James Dashner). I want to live in Fully Booked for one whole day. I’ll be active in our church’s Media Ministry and vote for the May Senatorial Elections. That looks like a good summer to me (although nothing looks better than Cody Simpson’s summers).
Anyway, I have my summer and you have your summer and I hope everyone’s going to have their dream summer, so happy summer! (I think I used “summer” too much.)
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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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