Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Niggling

Woah. What a day. What a freakin' fucking shitting crapping motherfucking day.

This was really A day.

I prayed for action, and I got it instantly. Thanks, God. But I wish this hear-thy-prayers service of Yours would work excellently everyday, not just on times you feel that the world is in need of graces and blessings and whatnot. Oh wait. Do I have to put that on the comments/suggestions box again? Crap.

Anyways, mom made me go to Mapua Intramuros to re-schedule my MSAE ALONE today. Not veraciously alone, but alone in a way that she stayed at the nearby mall, and made me walk to the aforementioned institute which is roughly the distance from my school to Megamall. At first, I was hesitant as hell. Well, who wouldn't be? I would only pass by Manila if we would go to Baclaran or Quiapo or Divisoria, which has become weirdly intermittent nowadays. So, to put it into absurd and obscene words, I'm still a Manila baby. (EEEW. Just thinking of it makes me cringe so bad.)

It was a very enduring adventure, so to speak. I'll take it as a prerequisite stage for my college life. I know I've been commuting since 4th grade, but this is still one hell of an experience I wouldn't mind having all over and over and over again. As I walked out of the Mapua grounds, I was then thinking to myself.."Hey, why not make a story out of this? Or a crapbook? Or a plastic bottle? Or a doll?". I was about to laugh silently at that meaningless latter part when I realized that it's raining. Hard. Not funny.

I walked as fast as I can to that covered pathway near the golf course that's also near the Manila Bulletin building. I waited for 45 minutes for the rain to..well..go away, I guess. Too bad it didn't, so I just took the risk of being soaked wet and being laughed at and talked about it just so my mom and I can go home already and escape the rush hour madness around the city.

But crap. It was STILL fun. No matter how unfortunate it was, I don't know why I can't whine about it. What a sad wonder.

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I've been observing my misanthropic self lately. And based on evenings spent on the couch, I've been hardly watching the news these days, compared to a few weeks ago wherein I'm more than eager to take in fresh information.

Maybe it's because of my extremely-idealistic belief that the Philippines will cease to exist in a few years.

No, really. With how the people in our government run our country, and by how poverty is killing each and every poor Filipino each day, it will be no wonder if the Pearl of the Pacific will be erased in the world map.

The Lesson: No one should ever listen to a hardcore pessimist. They're worse than mental patients.

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Want an anecdote? I'll give you an idiotic one.

I'll refer to that speaker thing that asks what your order is and you shout what you want to it as 'the speaker'.

Mom and I went to that Taco Bell drive-thru in St. Luke's Hospital in QC a while ago. When the speaker already belted out and asked our orders, mom ordered one crunchwrap. After a few seconds, the speaker asked if we want anything else. Mom made a correction and added another crunchwrap. The speaker wasn't able to hear mom's second reply, so he asked again. Mom shouted, the speaker didn't hear. Repeat the idiosyncratic process about 3 times. Mom, who is already angry at this point, shouted: "ISA PA NGA KASENG CRUNCHCRAP!". Instead of calming her down, I laughed my ass out.

Reminds me of that incident when we went to the McDonald's drive-thru at Katipunan after our review class. Classic.

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By the look of my stretch marks on each of my mammary glands, I think I will not be posting for quite sometime. And no, I will not go to the hospital and have an operation for my boobs. It's just that they can magically predict my future by going into different directions. Now that is what you call a hidden gift.

So here is my crappy article about talents, which I posted last week in my Multiply. It's so long and boring and crappy, nobody ever replied to it. Enjoy if you can.

Talent Schmalent

REclaimer: This is not written for my convenience or whatever. This is actually for one of my closest friends who is going through a very very hard time right now. What type of hard time, you may ask? Well, read between the lines, dumbass.

Talent.

What's in a talent?

Talent is seemingly what people have that they are exceptional on, or for me, it is what you have that gives you that stupid right to be respected. Talent is also that thing you can be proud of that you have, because..well....not all people have what YOU righteously have, ain't it?

I remember one time when I was still in 4th grade, and we were then asked to write our talents in a page of our notebook. I don't know what subject it was for (and for the love of God I'm dead sure that it's so not for math or penmanship), but I recall well that I can't write a single thing. No, really. I would look to my seatmate's notebook to see if we have the same talents, but sadly, he's a goddamn boy who likes to pretend he's Hulk Hogan and play basketball and play some badass game on PlayStation, very au contraire to me. He had a nasty crush on me, though. But that's another story.

And so, our adviser told us to pass our notebooks since he'll check it and show it to our excessively sullen guidance counselor back then. I hurriedly wrote.."I like beating boys and my crush, Alejandro." Wow. What an f-ing talent (and a retard, for that matter). Mom got called by my homosexual adviser and our ever-depressed guidance counselor the very next day. And up to now, mom never brought up that boy-beating talent ever again. That's probably one of those absurd reasons why she sent me to an exclusive school for girls for my high school education. Whatever.

Freshmen year came, and I signed up for this new club called AWL. I can't remember its meaning anymore because they rejected me, and no one ever gave me a special reason why it should be of significance anyway. And so, the very same thing happened again. We were asked to write our talents on a size 1 of a paper (and I probably bugged those senior moderators to death because I kept wondering why papers in SPCP have sizes and stuff. What the hell. They weren't able to explain it to me anyway), and the only thing I was able to write was..'creative writing'. My sixth grade teacher told me that I can write well, and thus I supposed that this probably is my talent after all. And ugh. I thought that rejection I got then was a sign that my sixth grade teacher had a love affair with a relative of mine, or she likes me - A LOT, or she just wants to shut the hell up out of me because I speak and write better than her or she had probably mistaken me for someone I look quite well that works for the school paper. Well, she could've admitted that to me and committed suicide right after. What a bitter hag. A

I was already on the verge of my decision to forget about writing and whatnot, but SIR HOTTIE JOHN showed me the way. Let's just say that he likes the way I write....HEEHEE. What a homo.

Journalism absolutely underdeveloped that writing skill Sir John cultivated. Let's skip that Indian teacher who drained all of our brains by pretending that he was, indeed, a teacher and not some Indian who never knew how to take a bath and use a deodorant.


FAST FORWARD TO NOW.

If someone would ask me to write down my talents in a manila paper, I'm now confident that I can write those things I was able to develop during my high school iife (which will end in four months. HURR-HAY).

Talents are like pets. You buy them when they're little and innocent and ignorant or some whatever adjective you can describe to an animal who likes to be cute for a living. And then through food and love and care you supply them, they develop and grow into..well..adult pets, I suppose. And by that time, all you can do now is brag them around because you worked hard for them. Your pets' mortality rate did not hinder you from caring and loving for it.

God gave us all these things we [shall] excel on. Why do you think will He create quintillions and quintillions of human beings in the first place anyway? To just watch them eat, sleep, and die? Seriously, no. We all have these things which we shall be known for, and which we shall use to be respected or make a stand or whatever. And at the most, these things are the only reason why we can love and appreciate ourselves, isn't it? And by thus, we can finally let our significant other feel that TRUE love he's supposed to be feeling from and to you.

It is possible that you weren't able to find that talent I'm talking about for the past 16 years of your life, but please. Keep in mind that you only have yourself to help you in finding those gifts you have. I for one cannot help you to find your talents. I mean, even your parents can't (I guess). Why? Who the hell can even control what you can and cannot do anyway? You should get my point now. Ikaw lang ang TALAGANG nakaka-alam kung ano ang mga kaya mong gawin at hindi.

And when that time comes when you have finally discovered your inner fortes, you'll finally get the point of this 1000-word shit I wrote for you out of concern and boredom.

Don't ever ever deprive your talents. Don't ever ever ever do those shitty mistakes I''ve done to myself just because I think I'm still underdeveloped. For Christ's sake, WE ARE ALL DEVELOPED ALREADY. Pre-adult is fast approaching, goddamn it.

-Never ever sign up for the school paper, go through the hassles of the highly-competitive screening, then quit it all in the end. People will not respect you.

-Never ever think that people's perceptions will define what you really are. If you are up for the challenge of swimming for 8+ laps just for the sake of proving that you can hence do it, then GO AND DO IT. Never fucking hesitate.

-SO WHAT IF YOU'RE FAT? SO WHAT IF YOU'RE TOO SKINNY? SO WHAT IF YOU'RE SHORT? SO WHAT IF YOU'RE UGLY? Flaws are just God's way of making things unique and funny. If we would ALL look pretty and perfect and other shit, do YOU think that will make things more interesting? I don't really think so. Put yourself in God's shoes. Wouldn't it be boring if all people looked so good? God, watching ANTM bores me to death more than a documentary about sticks in NatGeo does.

-Take all the risks that you can, as long as it is for the good.


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I'm finding what I just wrote very hypocritical and ironic. Well, who said someone can escape the perks of life anyway? I'm probably the next God or something.

And no, I'm not bitter. WTF.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Back Seat Driver

Alright, I give up. I don't want this vacation anymore. Anyone who wants to have it can definitely take it from me as soon as possible. I want school school school instead.

There's nothing to do worthwhile at home, dang it. If there was a counter around that would count how many edible stuffs I've taken for this day, it could've blown itself like bombs in action movies do. It's either I eat now, or eat now and later and later and later. See, when I'm in school, I will not be able to eat this much. Instead, I would listen to my boring teachers, write boring notes, and laugh at boring jokes. At least THAT's quasi-productive, not like here. Scooping out snots is probably the most fertile thing I've done this day, aside from playing golf and tennis in Wii Sports.

I've never missed secondary education this much. Forget this vacation-relaxation as my last semestral break as a high school student. I mean, will all of this even matter after a year? Hell, no. I'm probably the only one who is giving a shit about everything being the last. It's like I'm going to die, or whatever (on the other hand, I WISH).

I'm going to take my fourth bath for this day. I've never felt this extreme need for tidiness in my whole life.


Later.

Flinch

NEWSFLASH: I'm no sickass. The stupid fever transferred to somewhere that's less carbonated, I guess. I enjoyed its 3-day stay in my body, even though he had me expecting that I would die, or whatever. Well, it looks like I have to wait a good year for another unrelenting fever to come my way. Sad for my part, and also for those who had already placed their orders for my casket over there at Arlington.

Anyways, I did something too dumb a while ago. But the difference is that this time, it's much more imbecilic. And absolutely irresponsible, for that matter.

Remember MSAE? Yeah well I was supposed to take it at 1:30PM of yesterday, but I wasn't able to take the test (let alone go even near the Intramuros vicinity) because we were late as hell. What happened? I'll tell you, if you promise to not call me irresponsible. Alrightey?

As I arrived home last Friday from school, the first thing I did was to text message mom to buy me a big mac, because I'll be studying my ass off till the morning of the next day comes. I need to pig out, for Christ's sake. I've been throwing up gastric substances ever since my fever erupted.

And so, I wasn't able to wait up for mom (who by the way went home at 3am already), because I was already goddamn tired. Blame the countless formulas I memorized. 22 formulas for physics alone, and I excluded the formulas for projectile motion just to see its hidden beauty. I was supposed to scan my geometry book before I hit the sack. I can't really remember if I was able to do so. I woke up at the sight of my geometry book on top of my sister's face, and please. I'm not THAT puerile and idiotic to do something like that.

Well, let's just say I woke up late-ish. And yes, I was only able to remind my mom that I have to take the MSAE after doing so. It was okay for her though, but we were able to leave the house at 1 PM already. We waited for our maid who went to the market, dang it.

And I heard that those who took it yesterday would get their much-awaited results on Wednesday. UGH.

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I was snooping at different people that I don't know in Friendster last night. And not just people, but infatuated/smitten people (for me). What else anyway? They are in love.

There's this one girl around my age who migrated to Australia and had been living there for 5 years or whatever. All of her pictures are either his hot Aussie boyfriend's face, neck, nose, underarm, knee, spinal cord, cilia, or herself kissing any of the aforementioned body parts of her boyfriend. Good thing my fever went away before I did this.

At first I was very disgusted. Well, who wouldn't be? I can't even imagine doing that to myself, let alone to do it to other people. I mean, if you would think of it, it's completely wrong and absurd.

But as the incessant kissing and hugging pictures pass by, I've finally realized that what they have is true love.

And I therefore conclude that love is disgusting.

(HA. And you probably thought that this was all meant to be mushy. In your face, stupid cupid)

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There are those times that you just don't know who the hell you are, or you are just so damn bored, you're looking for simple things that you can stress on or whatever. And the time for the latter is NOW.

The thought of a vacation a couple of months ago was heaven. Every single day, I would pray for something so ideally good and rational that would miraculously suspend classes and make us all go back to our bedrooms and turn everything on hiatus mode. I would imagine myself lying on my bed, with my big pillows, and my humongous comforter during Filipino class. During other boring classes, I would think of that delivery guy from McDonald's, handing my snacks. Total Burgasm and Nuggasm, that's what I would get.

But after months of sleepless mumbo-jumbos for cramming schoolworks that are due here and there, the thought of vacation had seriously made me more apathetic about relaxation. It made me want to crave more for problems. Like if there weren't any problems, I would try everything to have a new problem so that I would be stressed.

God, I'd rather have that fever again instead.

I wanna go back to school so badly. I wanna listen to boring teachers, and flunk stupid quizzes. I wanna go to the canteen, and use my ID to buy anything that would attract my eye. I wanna spend those break times with my friends that I have only 4 months to laugh everything with.

This is probably the most idiotic syndrome I've ever experienced.

Please. Let there be school. For me.


Friday, October 26, 2007

Death by Champorado

Today is the day; the day I finally got hold of a big-time fever I got from something that is so stupid. Champorado.

What is a Champorado? As the ever-unreliable Wikipedia said, Champorado is a sweet chocolate rice porridge that was invented by no less than our national hero himself, Dr. Jose Rizal. For me, Champorado is best served at any time of the day, as long as it is hot and has evaporated milk on top of it. Yum Yum, huh?

I skipped school last Tuesday, woke up at an early 7 am, and (what else?) went straightly to this computer station and researched on that contest I'm planning to join in. After a couple of minutes, mom went upstairs and brought me a bowl of Champorado. And since it was served the way I like it to be, I was able to finish it in a minute. Good grief.

After a few minutes of doing so, I felt this very strong tinge of dizziness. At first, I just shrugged it all off. But when my massaging powers and apathy did not help, I hurriedly turned off the computer and went straight to my bed to sleep again so that when I wake up in the later hours of the day, I would feel much better.

That's what I thought. But ugh. What I thought was completely wrong.

I woke up at 10am, dizzy. I woke up at 1 am and skipped lunch, for that matter, still dizzy. I woke up at 3 am because mom and the maid banged on my lock door just to give me greasy stuffs to eat (McDonald's.), still f-ing dizzy. Ate that big mac goodness, and threw it all up because my head is circling with the highest centripetal force one can experience in their big ol' heads.


And I woke up yesterday with a fever I did not expect coming. I'm literally burning right now with 40-degree Celsius body temperature.

The End.

THREE REASONS WHY I CAN'T GET SICK RIGHT NOW:
1. I have my MSAE on Saturday. I don't really think I can re-schedule my last CET.
2. I can't afford to be sick these days, primarily because I'm tad too lazy to take my meds. (What a reasonable shit)
3. It's our semestral break next week, for the love of God. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy it with this stupid fever? GAH.

ONE REASON WHY I SHOULD GET SICK RIGHT NOW:
1. Because I want to die already. I'm more than ready, God. I have accomplished all those things a girl that will go through the process of pre-adulthood has to have. I think the world and its people is the funniest joke and wonder anyone has to laugh and ponder on. And ergo, I'm not a joke. I'm MORE than a joke. I am a big book with the greatest story ever told that even Mark Twain himself can't beat with his fancy-schmancy fairy tale shits. I think the people of Inferno has to read me to stop overreacting down there.

And when I finally die, my peers would make the nicest funeral speeches that the world will yet to hear. I can imagine it now: my obese body in a big black casket, dressed in the sexiest lingerie ever. My funeral would probably be in an Apple Center, and instead of eating regular biscuits, y guests would eat those specially-designed, apple logo-shaped cookies. Specially-designed in a way that it would self destruct in 5 seconds when it detects saliva or even carbon dioxide in its surroundings. And we will all die happily ever after.

Steve Jobs would most likely design a laptop just for me, called the iLorainne. It will beat the hell out of that coffee-table computer shit Bill Gates has (and thus the whole Microsoft empire has one too. BOO). It will have a 10-megapixel integrated iSight camera (integrated because it's not just a camera anymore. It's now a digital single lens reflex camera, lenses are sold separately of course.). It only has this 60" monitor (that can be fluctuated to any smaller size you want, but sadly, 60 inches is the maximum size) with 1000 yottabyte of hard disk storage. It will run on 100.89 THz, so multi-tasking will compete on a cheetah's average speed. It only has one optical drive, which acts as a drive for compact disks and for universal serial bus disks. It is purely wireless, so to speak. In fact, even without the presence of radio waves and signals for one to connect easily to the internet, it can definitely sign you in on your friendster account in a freakin' picosecond. Leopard as the OS? Not really. Those guys at Cupertino will make the greatest operating system ever invented, which is the Laughing Hyena 1000.

The details are still sketchy, but that's what is sure to hit the stores near you when I die.

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Biographical moment.

1. I am Lorainne. Seriously, just call me that and NOTHING else, aside from my infamous nickname that did not originate from a very famous R&B singer, Oyen.

2. I was musically-inclined, until the emergence of local rock bands that definitely made everybody think that playing the guitar is so f-ing cool. And yes, I still now how to play the guitar. And no, I'm not going to play again for anyone's sake. And yes, I still have a guitar. And no, I will not definitely sell it. And yes, I'm acting like a total moron right now.

3. I only have two vices, namely, Coke (the softdrink) and alcohol. The latter is not seriously proven yet, but I enjoy the company of it no matter what situation I am in. The former is one of those things I seriously have to quit because I'm already a diabetic, and I should therefore watch my sugar intake (on the contrary, I will NOT because I want to die, remember?). And it really really helped to the existence of a pot belly in my body.

4. I swim (this will not be elaborated much further).

5. Okay yeah I swim and so what? Maybe I did regret that I did not join the swimming team. But I'm over it anyway. I have a life to end.

6. I am not a bipolar. Stupid things just irritate my boring soul.

7. Yes, I did quit that chance of writing for the school newspaper. No regrets, really.

8. Actually, I like quitting stuffs I worked hard for. It's up for you to decide if those were acts of pride, or acts of incongruity. But for me, I just like proving to people that an obese girl can do more things than normal-size people do. All I want to say is people should stop discriminating and we should all just enjoy what we have in this world like McDonald's.

9. I am a very concrete example of teen angst.

10. I am not a writer. I just like to pretend that I am one.

IM me if you're ready with your funeral speech for me already.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

I Just Blogged 2

Christ, I haven't blogged for almost a week. Screw me.

Anyways, I have to make this extra quick because..well...our car will be leaving for about 5 minutes or so. I have to go to school today, dammit.

UPDATES:

1. Good Lord, I haven't been mortally stressed or whatever for the past few days. And that's probably the reason why I forgot that I have a stupid blog that needs updating. I'm sorry for making you a stress output, bloggy. Well, what's your use if you weren't so anyway.

2. The Ferrari theme for our batch quasi-rocked, au contraire to what we thought a few weeks ago. I like this ferrari horse Patti drew in my hand. Picture? No way.

3. The seniors volleyball team won against the juniors at the 2nd game of volleyball yesterday. It was guh-reat, so to speak. We were on the flagpole, and everytime they would score a point, we all can't just help to dance or even move. Maybe because our spot was the best. Or I'm just itching to dance.

4. I'm not even supposed to be going to school today, because I have to watch Dubai again for our Filipino movie review blah-diddy-blah-blah because I wasn't really paying that much of attention when we watched it at school. Good thing my mom's melodramatic, for we have DVD copies (make that ORIGINAL copies) of Filipino movies like such. Anyways, I took the risk to cram it when I get home today, because Monica asked me to go watch games with her tomorrow. Well, fine.

5. I will be joining yet another essay-writing contest. I'm not gonna tell the whole details, but it's for a newspaper in the country, and 15 thousand pesos is at stake. Well, wish me luck so.that I would not say goodbye to a contest again.


Anyways, I'll update much further later. Mom's screaming in the car already.

Friday, October 19, 2007

An Open Letter for A Friend

Ok, this doesn't count as a blog entry. But what the hell. I'm missing my friend.

Dear Friend,

One week. Without you. Without someone to talk to. Without someone to laugh at my jokes. Without someone I can confide with. Without someone to..well..make me a somebody.

You might find that absolutely shallow, at the most. I mean, I just talked to you awhile ago. I was happy when you said you're missing me, because evidently, we are missing each other. To tell you the truth, the reason why I cried yesterday was nowhere caused by the darkness(which represents a person) that just mocked a dementor and sucked the happiness of not only a person, but the whole ambiance of the environment as well, but was hence caused by our lack of communication for the past few days. To which I shall conclude, I cannot last 4 days without talking to you for at least an hour.

I don't know why I'm acting the way I'm not even supposed to. I'm apathetic, for Christ's sake. My heart should be closed for any emotions due to sad occurrences. In mere inherent words, I am not supposed to be in susceptible of missing people, or even loving them(for which I proved wrong during those times I fell in love with jerks, so as to say.). I'm admitting it now like some sac religious would admit that his faith is still in God; I miss my best friend. :(

I'm sorry for feeling so, but I'm being emotionally drained by all of it.

But hell, I know for sure that aside form the fact that I'm being jealous, I'm also being selfish. And it is quite obvious, if you'll ask one of my closest friends in our class.

I'm thinking that this is God's way of perking things up. Like what Big Brother would do to his housemates..you know..putting stupid twists, and ending up to nothing close to reconciliation in the end.

Well, let His will be done, as the prayer implies. But just so you know, I'm...sad.

Really Really Sad Now,

Lorainne

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I have a chapter two of a thesis to do, so I gotta make this quick.

UPDATES:

1. The possibility of our batch winning as champions for the upcoming intrams next week is comparable to the possibility of my body fluctuating to an Olsen twin size just in time for the graduation ball. And actually, you're right - or I'm assuming that you are, since nobody's making an implication that you are even reading this. SCHOOL SPIRIT'S MISSING. I have no plans of looking for it.

2. Glorietta 2 got 'bombed' today. The welcoming motorcade for the first Pakistani female prime minister got suicide-bombed today. Some province in Iraq got bombed today. GhyzGhyz, a country in Mars like that of the United States of America, got seriously bombed today(and by seriously, I meant that nobody laughed after the incident.) And oh, what a B-E-A-yootiful global warmed world we have here! And just in case you would like to know, my bombing day is on the 32nd of October. Come join the deadly fun.

3. I'm so through with that intimidation shit I just hardcorely went through last few weeks. Besides, no organism can ever hold a candle to the number of maggots that feeds on this garbage I shall call 'blog'. And this is not making any sense at all.

4. Palancas has this weird way of making you feel so good about yourself. Now that's new.


Oh I'm sorry for this ever-so-senseless blog entry I just did. I'll make it up to you, bloggy, after going through things I have to go through. Ah, redundancy. *tears*

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Chees-ay.

Retreat was nice. Not just nice, but really really really nice. It was the most meaningful one I've had for the past 6 years I've been attending recollection and retreats. I dunno. It's probably because there wasn't a day that I didn't shed a tear, which is actually new for me since I don't usually cry just because of..well...spiritual stuffs.

Anyways, here is an entry I wrote in this highly-improvised journal. The journal itself is made of 3 typewriting papers that were stapled together in the center fold, so that it would make a cutesy impression that is, therefore, a 'journal'. God. A roll of tissue would have been much better, if you ask me.

Dear Journal,

It is the second day of our retreat today. I feel so obnoxious, sleepy, and cold. I felt like I'm in the 9th circle of hell during my 'sleep'. The icy atmosphere was hence brought by the gush of the airconditioner, that we stupidly set on a 22-degree temperature before we went to bed. And as I woke up with the knock of the bell ringer on our door, I raced to the airconditioner to turn it off because my whole body is literally numb. My eyes formed big holes as I saw that the aircon is already running on 16-degrees. What the....

And oh, for the love of God, I'm nowhere near renewal. That sounds bad, I think.

The place is absolutely nice. Well of course, like everything else, it was missing this element that'll surely cause the extinction of spiritual places like this. Oh-ho. TELEVISION. Crap.

The rooms look like that of hotel suites. The bathroom smells good, prior to the fact that you or your did not excreted your toxic wastes.(SHITS, actually. But yeah. I'm not supposed to write it there because I thought the journal will be collected. But now I did.)

Amidst all of these nicey-spicey things that were given to us, I'm still wondering why I can't get hold of my desire, which is God's presence. No matter how intent I would pray, God just wouldn't stop ignoring me. Hmm. Mayne Sr. Vianney was right. Maybe I SHOULD have that gift of disciplines. God will never ever talk to somebody who thinks that even the smallest of things are way too funny to be ignored. Or maybe..just maybe..I should change. I've promised way too many times before that I would, ergo, undergo to to a hardcore metamorphosis that would surely kick that highly-negative and apathetic outlook out of my sucky life. But sadly, my incessant stubbornness is literally and figuratively hindering me to do such. I feel so sorry for myself.

So when will I change? I keep on complaining and complaining that things keep on changing, an I never got that hang of it. Things probably change because YOU need to change. Weird, isn't it? I find it absurd that those things are the ones that are making a move for us. It seems that they're the ones living OUR lives, not us.

Unexpectedly, I cried during the last part of the healing process. I imagined myself telling these things I aforementioned above to a friend. But quite surprisingly, that friend of mine turned out to be Jesus. (*insert any religious song here*) I asked my friend, 'When will I ever change? Will it always be this way? Will I ever learn to be responsible for my acts, or would retain that act of giving false pretenses?

By thus, I felt God beside me, seemingly guiding me as I ask these questions to myself. Someone may find this stupid, but I just stared above and intently talked to him.

And yes, I can say now that I'm healed; my story is indeed God's love story after all.

Uh. Maybe I took the retreat too seriously. It is a wonder how I managed to participate in all the spiritual activities we did. Why? As you can remember, I used to be an agnostic, practicing a great irony within the great walls of my Catholic school.

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MCOY FUNDALES.

I still can't believe I can now see my crush everyday on national television.

And actually, Mr. Fundales is one of those gods that I worshiped(and still worshiping). Hurr-ay.

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DLSU-CET review. Let's roll.

-DLSUCET is simply the De La Salle University College Entrance Test. It has 7 parts. And don't ask me what those parts are. UGH. It wasn't really indicated before that part or whatever, which is really really absurd.

-DLSUCET is much much much easier than the 2 CET's I took up months ago.

-DLSUCET was the most boring CET I ever took up. There were absolutely NO interesting people. All looked so middle class-y and normal.

-DLSUCET sucks because you will be given 15 minutes of break, and by that you are not allowed to stay and doze off in the room. UGH. I was a victim of this shit. I wasn't aware that I was overstaying at that bench for 30 minutes already, so...I got 35 minutes for the numerical ability part instead of the 50 minutes you will get of you return to your testing room ON TIME.

-DLSUCET will make you feel better. For some reasons unknown, it did so to me.

-DLSUCET or DLSU per se is so tech-savvy. At the first week of January, you can either wait for the results to be mailed to you, look it up on DLSU's website, or better yet, text DLSU(space)EEXAM(space)Reference #, then send to 2333 for Globe subscribers, and to whatever number for Smart subscribers(It's not MY fault I wasn't paying attention. Like DUH, why the hell would I even bother to remember that? I'm not a Smart subscriber.). This is superlatively nice.


Good luck to the last batch. WE WILL ALL PASS!


Monday, October 15, 2007

I Just Blogged

...to say, I'll bore you. Oh, the catharsis.

Anyways, at exactly 5 hours and 30 minutes from now, we'll be drifting off to Tagaytay City for our last retreat ever of our schmunky high school lives. Ah, this is the life. After taking up the DLSUCET, now off I go to a real relaxation and renewal process. Just what I'm begging to God for the past few years. Oh well. I can live with this anyway.

So why am I still awake as hell? Well, I crammed up my night by making people's palancas, which is by far the nicest thing I've done this weekend(excluding the fact that I studied for the dlsucet, and proving that miracles really do happen by carrying my obese body up just to clean my bedroom). I have this slight feeling that I'll not be getting more palancas than the number inferred to last year. I so don't care.

DLSUCET was..okay. I'll do a list of my observations of the aforementioned CET after I get back from the retreat. I doubt that the list will be as good and as neat as the one I did for the ACET. Jesus. There is a higher possibility that I'll be cleansed/renewed than the possibility of this blog being read by Jessica Zafra or some blogger/columnist I idolize like hell. How oblivious.

So, bloggy. I'm off to a delicious doze now. I'll be abandoning you for 3 days. No one really cares.

But before I would offer myself to God or some random nun, I just want to say that this show I'm currently watching at ETC is pissing the hell out of me. I think it's the Real Gilligan's Island or whatever. They're trying so hard to make things a bite of reality by doing drag shows around campfires.

And I thought that Reno 911 on JackTV is the worst show I've ever watched. Excuse me while I vomit out the suckiness my mind just absorbed.

Au Revoir. Zai Jan. Goodbye.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Faux Pas

I cannot contain myself.

All of you just have to laugh at the same thing I was laughing so hard at a while ago.

Out of boredom and refusal to study for my dlsu-cet, I dared myself to act all stupid and idiotic and IM a random person on my YM list, and ask a (what else) random question that'll surely test them to death. The question I thought of was neither that of Physics-related, nor even a question that has a high possibility of showing up at any CET or whatsoever test one may take up in the duration of his/her life.

And so:

Me: What is the meaning of RSVP anyway?
Friend(or I assumed he was to me before he answered): Weh!
Me: Ano nga? Di ko nga kase alam di ba
Friend: tumigil ka nga! alam naman nating lahat na ang rsvp ay reservoir s'il vous plait, no! nagtatanga-tangahan pa to! ulul!


Talk about extreme faux pas. Tank please? WTF.

And just so dumbasses would know, what he said is not even close to what RSVP really means. And for the love of God, that's why we have Babel Fish for. Systran is giving us a chance to pretend like we're all linguists, and/or to avoid f-ing language errors or whatnot.

And no, I'm not trying to be mean or whatever. I AM mean. I don't need to try.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Absurd with a capital ABSUR

This blog is experiencing extreme inconsistency. Sorry, bloggy. This week was the closest to heaven I'll ever get, I guess. I mean, I only had the Physics lab report and the crapbook for CL to do. All has been procrastinated by our teachers after our retreat next week.

This is what a senior student can only ask for after countless tedious weeks of revising chapters of theses, and being brutally killed by shadow plays and Dante's Inferno itself. We can all thank the owner of this blog for that awful sarcasm that was able to reincarnate us all.

And, what do you know? I haven't failed a single exam yet. Hmm. What a relief. This is the first time that I nailed most of my examinations. Ever since I entered my current school, it has became so incessant that I would never nail one too many tests. What a major breakthrough. Now I can erase #12 in my Accomplishment list. Yes siree.

My head hurts.

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I looked up 'intimidation' in the reference thesaurus a while ago. Look at its synonyms:

fear, terror, terrorism


Woah. Not exactly what I felt last Wednesday. (Intimidation is the same as sexual harassment too, which I'm guessing that nobody really needs to know.)

INTIMIDATION

Mr. Webster defined it as : to frighten, to discourage, to threat, to scare, to silence
As I define it : to challenge my intellectual susceptibility skills, to f-ing outsmart me in more ways than one, and/or in ceaseless peculiar ways (which surprises me too).

I hate it when someone intimidates me (well THAT's sedately new). It's like I'm in an imaginary contest, and our prize is to total dignity that will further on save humanity. It's highly-similar to that of stupid races with no prizes. Well, in this case, we have pride and that academic award as a prize.

And I know I exuberantly suck at contests and the like. And just in case you're feeling stupid because you failed in something that seems so intrinsic to other people, I want to tell you now that I wasn't able to join that essay-writing contest I bragged a few weeks ago because of..well..inanity. It was scheduled on that Wednesday afternoon, by which I have my GIFT class to attend to. And as each successive day passed by after that show of extreme foolishness, I would always remind myself to ask Mrs. Bronilla if I can still write an entry.

The essays the other contestants made are now posted near the HS Quadrangle, and I am feeling very sorry for my ever-so dumb self.

Intimidation. How I hate you, I cannot say.

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It is a wonder why you have optimistic people like that of the members of GreenPeace, and on the other hand, you have a human proof right here that Satan is a girl. And if you're still wondering on who the hell I'm referring to, please..just please..get your ass out of here.

I don't get it. Why do you have to be optimistic? We all know that good things are becoming less and less likely to happen each day, much gratitude to pollution and politics(talk about Ebony and Ivory, or any interracial couple).

There's a lesson here somewhere. I'll look for it. *disappears into highly-polluted air*

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I like someone.

And that someone is I.

It's quite stupendous how being a point away to the highest-pointer of the Physics exam in your class makes you so narcissistic, you've forgotten all your social burdens for a second.

So narcissistic, you're denying your former crushes just because you think you're smarter by 1 quintillion brains.

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Dad and I have this weird father-daughter relationship. When he's up there in Europe, we email each other like we're relatively close, hence by talking to one another almost everyday. But when he's here during the Christmas season, we would never have that chance to blab all we want to, like we always do in the virtual world.

It's kinda guilt-strickening too that amidst all that parental duties my mom has been doing for the past 16 years, I still consider my dad as my hero.

When we went to Poland 4 years ago, I had this unearthly allergy on both of my asscheeks. They itch like hell, and everytime I would stand behind a mirror to see what a nightmare my ass looks like, I would see bleeding scars and the likes of 'galis'. It was very tormenting. I can see the grimace of our Polish housekeeper everytime she would caught me putting my left hand inside my very loose shorts. It's like a wave of Satan's fart passed by everytime I would do so.

And so, my mom and dad decided that I should seek a doctor. If you would use your common sense, an 11 year old with a living hell on both of her asscheeks can never be susceptible of going to a doctor of a country she barely heard of. Before we went to Poland, my dad encountered a vehicular accident that made the company he was working for to confiscate his car. So for us to go to a doctor, we have to call for taxi to get us there.

Commuting with my dad is, by far, one of those experiences a daughter of an OFW will never ever forget. He went to the doctor with me, even if my ass by then was on the number 2 spot of that SCARY THINGS list. And of course, Michael Jackson's topped it. Dang it. I don't get it why the bleeding scars ON MY ASS are nothing compared to this child molester.

We went to the mall together, shopped together, went home together.(Well of course we would do things together. I'm his daughter, for Christ's sake)

Strangely enough, we can never ever ever ever do this when he's here in the country.

I think I'll blame it on the climate.

Or the current president.

Because it would be so clichéd if I would blame it on my parent's relationship again. Ooh, and so conformist too.

The truth really does hurt sometimes.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Oh Crap

It has occurred to me that I haven't posted anything for quite a long time. This is a good sign, I think. It solely means that I'm neither stressed, nor bored. What a big effin wonder.

WELL, WHAT'S NEW?

1. Exams are hobbididly-bibbly over. The hardest exam was probably that of the Economics. And no, it wasn't because of the computation part (it was even the easiest). There were so many terms that wasn't even taught to us, which is absurdly nasty, if you'll ask me. The easiest was the math exam, to everyone's surprise. (and for those concerned with the last item, the answer is 218, very contrary to the 3 almost everyone answered. WTF)

2. Mom bought me and my sister a pair of Crocs sandals each. I don't know about you guys, but fancy-schmancy footwear was never in my Christmas wish list or whatever. The only footwear I appreciate no matter what genre I'm in are sneakers, and that's because they look cool and they're relatively comfortable than that of flats or heels. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, Crocs is definitely one hell of a footwear. I was trying it out the night I bought it, and I was like walking with my foot naked. It is THAT good.

3. I went out swimming yesterday with a couple of friends and the mayor of Pasig himself. Although I think the trike driver didn't think that he was, indeed, the mayor of the city he's living in. He charged us 40 fucking pesos after driving us with his shaky tricyle from the plaza to Denise's house, which is just a short freakin' distance. Well, what the crappy hell. I enjoyed it anyway. Thanks, friends.

4. I'm having a hard time doing the 2nd chapter of our thesis. NOW THAT'S NEW.

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I know for sure that there is no way my grades will go higher this quarter. I screwed up in almost every subject. And I know for sure that there is seriously just no way my dad will give me a condominium for Christmas, nor for graduation.

Just great.

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There was a time when I thought that incessant news about politics or whatsoever is enought to piss my ass off for the whole week. And that time has come of change.

BRITNEY SPEARS

Oh, f-ing hell. I'm feeling absolutely sorry for myself for worshiping her during my childhood days. I used to wish that my hair would go blond like hers, and would shine as if it's the sun's sister or something. Her kickass body would always make me envy every girly shit out of her. And everytime I would catch that "Give Me Baby One More Time" video on Videoke Channel or MTV, I would stay mesmerized for the rest of the day. Sounds absurd, huh? But it's not my effin fault that her songs are damn catchy.

But oh boy. Drugs, alcohol and Keven Federline should never EVER be consumed by a pop star, or else she'll have to get her hair shaved off, or lose the custody of her children.

I'm taking in too much Britney rumors.

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I'm in love with Jake Lopez.

This is one serious issue that needs to be dealt with.

And even God doesn't know how the hell would I do that.

(And no. There's just no way I'm going to tell who he is. He's my friend...in Friendster, that is.)

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It's kinda awkward when you talk with your relatives about your blog. In my case, they started the pristine round-abouts about my blog, which has become repetitive every time they'll visit us in our house every Sunday.

Grandma: Sabi nila tito mo, ang galing galing mo daw magsulat. Ang galing mo daw mag-english.
Me: Tch.
Grandma: Oh, eh bakit hindi Mass Comm o CommArts o English ang kinuha mo?
Me: Corny kase yun, lola.
Grandma: *grunts in a masculine way*


I seriously don't know why they are making a biggie out of my course in college. I'm going to be an engineer, for Christ's sake. Shouldn't they be excessively proud instead? It is absolutely rare for a girl to dream of becoming a hardcore computer engineer. That's why I like it. No way I'm going to take up something that the majority is in favor of taking up too. No offense to CommArts majors, but I don't really think communicating to people is my forte(which is part-ironic. I speak 4 languages, and can understand 3 local dialects. WTF).

And for the nth time, writing here is just an OUTLET of my stress and boredom. There is no possible way I'm going to make a fortune out of writing stuffs. Use your common sense, people of God. Who the hell would pay for an article filled with countless grammatical errors and incongruity?

(As of this writing, I'm pretty sure Manny Pacquiao will lose, and the people of my country will grieve so much that there is this high possibility that classes will be suspended tomorrow. Talk about great shallowness.)

Whoop-de-whoop.

A honeybee can stop conformity in an instant. It can either quit his honey business, or be idiosyncratically happy and run a fastfood restaurant instead.

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Of all the religious feasts I have to remember as a Christian, it is that of the feast of the Our Lady of Rosary that has this distinction that would always pang me in the head every 7th of October.

I'm begging someone to differ.

Anyways, good luck to the DLSU Green Archers for the final game this afternoon. Oh GIDDY.

Thank God for giving us this. You can blame him for my femininity.

Meebo Me


Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Generalized Ponderations

Because I'm constantly refusing to study for our periodical exam tomorrow (and well, out of boredom, I guess.), here I present to you are absurd and generalized ponderations that I would like to say to stupid people to shut the hell out of their big mouths. If what I just said a while ago isn't ironic, then, for the love of God, tomorrow's surely my death day.

If there's one thing other than pop stars and suck-ups that is always constant and consistent, that would definitely be life's suckiness.

I'm finding it absolutely weird that people are more susceptible of finding the bad in the good, rather than finding solutions to algebraic answers that has nothing to do with the previous statement.

There is no such thing as a corny or cheesy joke. On the other hand, we have boring and sullen people's perceptions to blame for the existent of such in this contemporary era we are living in.

As the great Nobel-prize winning theoretical physicist Frank Wilczek said, "In Physics, you don't have to go around making trouble for yourself - nature does it for you.". And I thought that gumamela flower was way to cute and pretty to be stepped on. Payback time.

Cats are not really chasing rats for their dinner. At times, they're willing to look like a-holes just to have a rat's prized possession...cheese. But in this cat-chase-rat generation we are living in, cats will never look like a-holes by doing do. On the other side of the coin, his other furry friends will treat him like friggin King Solomon or something instead.

If we would all prefer to be with King Minos and other Inferno characters down there in the underworld, who will be left for God's grace here in this land He created?

John Mayer's right. Like him, every one of us should be worried if we weigh three times our body. Hence, we should be worried NOT for ourselves, but for those others who doesn't feel the same way we are fortunately feeling. Why? Yeah well that means that they're all being chicken and wimps by depriving the abilities that they really have.

I don't know if conformists are fond of searching sensible quotes that actually refers to them. but I do know for sure that they will go to the second bolgia of the eight circle of hell. God, didn't they know that imitation is the best form of flattery? Yeah and because of that, they are all really deserving to be immersed in our shits forever and ever.

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And to conclude this mediocrity , here is a picture of my new baby brother, Enrique Achilles.




I don't find him cute neither.