Get Out

I'm tired.

I hope that you can just get out. Oh, and not just you. I want everything that is connected to you be wiped out of my life this instant. Your house, your dog, your kind parents, your room, your lover, and your other lover... everything. 

I'm just so tired of this irrational friendship. Wait. Was it a friendship? 

I don't think so.

Just get out.

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Resurgence

And so again, we shall all play pretend.

Let's pretend that none of you didn't read the last post, nor even bothered to visit the page after a year. Not much has changed, anyway. I'm now in college, and goddamn it, I'm still fat as hell. And no, I'm not moping. I am fat, and so I'm gonna be until I finally get my ass out of my bed and start doing laps in pool again, which is unlikely because I think I'm gonna spend the rest of my life understanding calculus and shitty vectors. Hmm, maybe after graduation. Or until somebody handsome enough would convince me to lose the fat so he could spend the rest of his life with none other than yours truly. 

Let's pretend that none of you knows me. I mean technically, nobody really does know me aside from those people who knows me personally. For the benefit of those who are now suddenly feeling that urge to know my name and whatnot, I'm Lorainne/Oyen (but I highly prefer the latter). I'm grumpy, conceited, and imbecile. Yet above all things, I'm euphorically peculiar and I don't think nobody (not even a hunk) can ever force me in changing into an ordinary person because obviously, I'm not. I'm exceptional, and you better know it.

Let's pretend that none of you don't have knowledge of my academic standing. As it is stated in my profile, yes, I am indeed an engineering student who is now struggling to pass her last quiz in integral calculus and engineering physics just so she can get a fucking 1.0 and get through those two subjects already. I used to be so grade conscious, but that was when I was still smart and my brain cells kept on increasing each day. Now, I only have about 5 brain cells, two of which is for calculus, and the remaining are for engineering physics. I know, I know...it really does suck to be me, after all. Amidst my enthusing greatness, I'm dumb. I can't even find the hydrostatic pressure of one side of a water tank to save my life. I'll just die in my own mathematical sorrows, I guess.

Now, do you think you've had enough of pretending?

Yeah, me too. I think I'll stop pretending that I really do wanna quit this thing because sincerely, I don't want to leave INTROVERSION. I miss pondering on the most useless of thoughts and still make something stupendous out of it, miraculously. I miss sharing my stupidity to my imaginary readers, because deep in my heart I know that they appreciate it. I miss cussing. Period.

And this comeback is NOT for my persuasive speech in one of my subjects. I just needed to feel that homey feeling, you know? Like I belong somewhere, and in that place, I'm loved. 

So far, INTROVERSION is the only place that can make me feel loved. Hell, I made this thing. It wouldn't be much of a wonder if my own creation would love me.

Yeah. I'm back. :)

Temporary Closure.

Did you ever had that moment when no matter how much you want to do something, you just can't anymore? It's as if something's holding you back, or you just kind of lost the touch of it and it's like everything's all German and alien again.

I wish that's what I'm feeling right now. I wish that writing here is just all German and alien so I can easily revive it with just a whip of a magic wand called knowledge. But sadly, it's not.

I know I'll be disappointing a lot of my non-existent readers with this, but I think that the time has come for me to stop blogging for a couple of months. You see, I've been doing this for quite a while... and by a while, I mean four years. I thought before that I won't get sick of writing and writing and writing, because through writing, I've learned a ton of things. Writing nonsensical things greatly improved my English, thus making me a better person that I am right now. It made my life less stressful, because I had an outlet where I can just shove all my burden in it. And surprisingly enough, people loved my burdens. I don't know how the fuck that happened.

But now, I'm starting to feel that INTROVERSION is starting to grow out of me. 

It's like a mere childhood toy that I do not enjoy playing anymore. It's like a book that I've read a bazillion times and now, I'm sick of it. It's like a clown, of whose antics I do not find funny anymore. 

It's not that I'm quitting; I'm just going to try to slow it down. It seems that writing here is something I wish I can do again, but I obviously can't anymore. College life has been more stressful than I have imagined, and I can't believe that I'm about to eat my words in saying that I just can't do this anymore. 

It's just a phase. Maybe I'll come back one day, ready to spill everything again.

I hope. 

Recessive

Yesterday, I went to school dressed like a girl. I mean, not that I wore a flamboyant dress like the one my friend Ayu would always wear to school, but yesterday, I wore my silver flats. Those silver flats are just so freaking girly, I don't think there's enough drops of hyperbole in this world to explain how girly they really are. And goddamn it, the pair attracts eyes of people like crazy, and consequently, people would look at my feet instead of my face. I can't believe my flats are prettier than me.

But of course, there's a reason why I wore those flats. My mom recently bought me this black skinny jeans that's probably two inches smaller than my waist. Well, for certain reasons that I have yet to find out, it was a perfect fit. It wasn't like my any other jeans; it didn't squeeze my waist and leave ugly marks all over, nor did it need a belt because it wasn't loose or something. Considering the fact that I really have big thighs, it looked good on me. For the first time, I think I found something that is meant for me.

I paired the jeans and the flats with my checkered polo and voila! I looked like a very presentable student for the very first time. For a student from the university's college of engineering, I guess I was overdressed. But it sure is a good thing that I only had AutoCAD for my class yesterday, because as evident as it seemed to be that I enjoyed what I wore, I did not. Dressing in that way made me feel really discrepant like hell. Maybe it's because I don't usually dress in friggin girly tops and bottoms.

And maybe I don't need to, because those type of clothing aren't just...oh I don't know... me?

But then again, I don't really know what got into me yesterday to be all girly and not like it. I guess you can blame our housemaid for all of this peculiarity. Apparently, she grabbed all of my jeans and placed them all inside the washing machine Thursday night. The only pair of of jeans that she left is the black one I'm telling you all about.

Why the hell am I not surprised?

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Last Monday, I was lounging outside of my classroom for SPEECOM, waiting for the INTECAL class to finish already so I can doze off for ten minutes inside. I guess I finished my long exam for my previous class (general chemistry) for that morning too early, and now I have to suffer the sheer boredom extra time gave to me. Amidst the fact that I have quizzes for algebra and physics later that day, I didn't feel like studying. Instead, I just did our assignment on Cramer's Rule just to kill time. By the time I was solving for the value of Dy, my eyes suddenly diverted to my classmate's hands. He's holding a yellow paper, a one-half crosswise yellow paper, to be exact. Oh shit. I forgot an assignment. Not again.

So I hurriedly asked Krissy for a paper and forced my mediocre brain to think of plausible yet ironically downright banal topis for my informative and persuasive speech. I quickly jotted everything that popped into my mind: the wonders of Poland, the different malls in the metro, food, music, and the global economic recession which, of course, seemed to be so far-out for engineering majors. And just by looking at the aforementioned topics, you can pretty much tell that there is no way that our professor could possibly find this interesting for the class. As for the persuasive topics, I wrote topics of my interest(photography, blogging...etc.) and ripped off Krissy's topics just to complete the list of five.

As it sourly turns out, the topics were due two days after that meeting. My face lost all of its color when I heard that the list of topics are to be passed on Wednesday instead. I pounded my fist on Cj's arm as he laughed crazily at my reaction. But well, being the pride-driven bitch that I truly am, I passed the paper hastily anyway, obviously not keeping in mind that I'm about to risk my capabilities.

Wednesday came, and our professor returned the list of topics to see for ourselves what shall we use for our informative and persuasive speeches. Amidst the fact that I scored a 10/10 for this highly-unprepapred homework, the topics my professor have chosen among the list I passed disappointed me to bits. I mean, yeah improving study habits for a topic for my persuasive speech is okay, but global economic recession for informative? I don't think so.

As interesting as it seems to be to me, I cannot, for the love of God, explain how ridiculously technical my topic sounds. People would come up to me and ask what is my topic for my informative speech, and when I would blurt out 'how the global economic recession started', they would have this weird grimace on their faces and would pretend that what I said made sense.

Well, I don't know. Just good luck to me, I guess.

Yaking

And now, I'm wondering why my life is getting more and more boring each day. Well for me, that is. I do the same shit every single week: for weekdays, I get up at 5AM, and go to school and pretend to listen and understand whatever goes into my ears. As for weekends, I do nothing but laze around and catalyze my fat reactions by eating and eating and eating. No wonder I've been getting so beefy these days and people would stare at me like I'm friggin sasquatch or something. Run for your lives, people. Gape at me more and I'll eat you all alive.

I'm also terribly sorry if I haven't been updating this crap of an online journal that often anymore. It seems that my life is just really meaningless now, and I have to do something fun and exciting again if I want this blog to keep its spot in the information superhighway. Let's see now, what do I have in mind..

What's that?

Nothing?

Nothing in Lorainne's mind? 

Well that's something strange. I don't remember being this random ever before. 

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My speech communication subject is, surprisingly, killing me. As obvious that it may seem to be to my classmates that I am weirdly proficient in this subject, I am seriously not. Back in high school, I hated impromptu speeches because they were so damn boring and talking to bored high school girls about recurring topics already defines hell. I don't think any of us enjoyed it except for those who are just plain good at delivering speeches. Man, they're just gifted.

And now that I'm in college and my audience comprises mainly of teenage boys who couldn't care less about whatever somebody blurts out in front, I'm preempting that I'll get a very low grade for this subject. For one, I tend to mix up my own ideas when I'm already standing in front of my audience. I cannot organize them into a single flow right at the moment so when my mouth starts to babble, it babbles about nothing but jargon. I don't even know why people should listen to me when I talk, because I speak gibberish so fluently, you would really think that gibberish is really a language on its own.

Another matter would be my hardcore insecurity. I'll be of legal age by the end of the summer of this year, and for sure, my inferiority complex is still at its peak. It may not be all too obvious when you're with me because I don't tackle about my self-hesitancies (whether it may be of physical, mental, or emotional) right smack in your face, but that place in the back of my mind would always hit me like a freakin' pendulum. I am just too paranoid of what people would think of me as I speak in front of them. Is my stomach fat bulging out? Oh God is my baby hair sticking out again? Where the frigging fuck is my orange clip? Omigod I mispronounced that word! My future is definitely ruined! 

To make things worse, I can't afford to have a low grade in this class. For my two previous English subjects, I got a 4.0. So now you can definitely just imagine my dad's austere surprise when I get a 2.5, or even a 3 for this subject. He'll probably ask me how the hell did I just nail ENGLCOM and ENGLRES effortlessly and forget about the easiest subject ever, SPEECOM. 

Well, I'm sorry. What I know is I'm not oozing with confidence; something that will probably pull my inner public speaker out of my fat thighs and save me from getting a low grade in speech communications. It just so happens that I'm idealistic and talkative when I'm around people, not in front of them.

For those of you who are about to beg to differ, give me a life. 

Not Back.

As of this entry, I don't have friends anymore. I lost them all because I wasn't able to come to their party yesterday because there was this big conflict between me and my mom, and I'm sure as hell that nobody would even understand me. They would think that I slacked off, or just made up a story so I could find my way out of that party. But tell me, do friends even do that?

No. They don't. They don't lie about stuff like that. If I didn't intend to go to that party in the first place, I would tell you beforehand. And you can pretty much tell that I'm not lying because I told you all that I can't make it mere hours before the party. That's how things got so ugly right in the nick of time. You don't know how much your party means to me, how much I anticipated for it, how much excitement I felt for it, and how many preparations I made for it. Don't you guys ever think that I wanted that conflict to occur. That would be so rude and mean to me and my own mother. 

I just hope that you guys forgive me. 

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Third term already started a week ago, and get this - I'm still alive. Remember how the first week of my second term gave me the impeccable impression that it was the deadliest thing ever? I even made a letter to God for it, for Christ's sake. That was how grim the first few days of second term was. And the succeeding days also proved to support my first impression, as I sinked down in my own academic turmoil. I never even thought that I could get out alive from that term.

But I did. I really did.

Compared to last term which I took about 8 units of nothing but mathematics, I only have two math subjects (or 6 units) this term, namely: integral calculus, and that latter part of my ENGALG1, engineering algebra 2. But with those 8 units comes another batch of 8 units. 8 friggin units of science courses which are engineering physics and general chemistry, together with their respective laboratory classes. I wasn't supposed to take them both at the same time, because that would be instant hell for me. But since my friends opted to follow the flowchart which is stating that both chemistry and physics must be taken up in third term, I have to go with the college flow if I want to have at least one friend I could talk to in a course. Well yeah I'm an introvert, but I'm an f-ing chatterbox as well. I can't shut my mouth up for ten minutes, and this is beginning to be such a challenge. 

So yeah, the first few days are fine. Contrary to my days in Velasco, I am now confident that I can take back my slot in the dean's list, if I put my every effort into my studies. I have nice professors to go with nice classrooms; that's right, my classes are now back in Andrew building. This means that I don't have to climb my way to my classes, since there are elevators in the said building. I have nice professors, which is a relief because pernicious courses doesn't go well with fatal professors. That would be death right there and then. 

And since third term means that I won't get to spend my classes with the same people all over again, I have nice classmates too. They all come from different engineering blocks, and some were even from other colleges. I'm beginning to love this diversity thing.

So yeah. I'm very much hoping that my first impression will last till this term ends and thus conlcudes my first year in college. I badly want to be a dean's lister again and cut classes like there's no tomorrow.

Kidding. Of course I want the glory of it all.

HIATUS

Give me a month to bring back my old self.

I'm so sorry.

:(

Congrats

I just want to show my sister that I know she's been reading my blog even if she keeps on denying it. Oh you bitch you. I saw my blog's screenshot in your Opera homepage yesterday and well, I'm just being proud here that you finally gave up your stupid pride. Nobody can just resist a trashy blog like this.

So in honor of what you are doing, I am making this out-of-the-blue entry just for you.

Congratulations for passing the DLSU-CET. I know my school is not really one of those places you want to study in, but the hell I care. I've been very open about my idea of not allowing you to enroll in the same school where I am currently taking up my degree, because I'd really hate it if we run into each other or be stuck in an elevator together. We've been in the same school for our primary and secondary education, and for Christ's sake I don't want us to be in the same educational institution for tertiary education. I want you to be in a place where you can be your true self, free from my sisterly captives. It'll be fun if you end up in the blue side, you know. At least Mom can now stop bragging about her Lasallite kids and forgetting about the fact that you are no Lasallite, and you never will be, because you're born to be one of them blue kids at Katipunan.

But still, hats off to you. I'm sorry for crossing my fingers all year long, hoping that you would fail this thing. What the hell was I thinking, anyway? You're smart, and there's no doubt that you can get through all things you want to go to. I may be smarter, but...well, you are good in cooking, though. To be an engineer, a cook, or a mathematician, I don't care what you will choose among these. I just want you to be happy in whatever decision you will make. Look at me now...I mean, I may look like a a panda with these ugly eye bags that the first term and second term of college undoubtedly gave me, but I'm still happy that I chose to be an engineer rather than my other dreams. There's a bright future for both of us, provided that we don't slack off and waste Dad's money. 

Oh and yeah, we have two more days left to clean our room thoroughly. Quit pretending that you're asleep so we can get through this shit already.

Again, congratulations!

MTH-CAP = BS Mathematics with specialization in Computer Applications whatever. As if I can remember the whole thing anyway. 

And to my non-existent readers who are wondering where the hell I am, my drafted posts will be hopefully and finally available here later. I'm sorry for forgetting that I do have a blog and a good one at that. I just had this HUGE block and it took me some time to take it out of my head. Thoughts are finally flowing and yeah, God is good. 

Happy New Year!

Goodbye Resolutions

I'm writing here using this new Google Chrome. Yes, I joined the bandwagon of browser afficionados, and I can't blame them for falling in love with this. I mean sure, Firefox 3 is alright, but Google Chrome is better...WAAAY better. It looks really nice in its own simplicity. Really.

Not that I'm advertising it or anything.

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My christmas was much better than last year's. This time, I spent my Christmas Eve eating pizza and ham my brother and sister and the friggin cockroach which kept on pretending that he's this cute bird. To that cockroach: you'll never be a bird, for the love of God. I watched in awe as my sister opened her gifts from her classmates, and kinda pitied my ass for not being able to open at least one present because I've opened them all already. It would have been really nice though if my mom had bought the camera on her own and wrapped it and placed it under the Christmas tree. And then come Christmas Eve, I would grab that heavy box with my name on it and open it and scream "OH MY FRIGGIN GOD NO FRIGGIN WAY!" five times over, and be slapped by mom. But then she had to spoil the Christmas spirit by giving me money to buy it on my own. Aww, shucks. Someone's saving the drama for next year.

It was kinda weird though that even if I listened to this radio station which kept on playing christmas carols all week long, my system wasn't able to get hold of that Christmas feeling. God, we even watched this animated film on IMAX about Snowman wanting to take over Santa's place on Christmas day, and I still can't grasp of what's clearly happening, which is duh, Christmas. Until now that Christmas day is already over, the spirit is still yet to enter my system. Well, it's a bit too late now.

I don't know about you, but I think I am really getting too old for Christmas. At 17, I'm already apathetic to it and God knows how much more this apathy could get when I reach my 20's. I was just not in the mood to give gifts nor receive them, even if I kept on humming Sleigh Ride until now. Hence, the inferior number of gifts. 

But you know what? Suck it. I don't care if I didn't receive a lot of gifts this year. It's not MY fault that Christmas doesn't like me. I don't like him either anyways.

-------------------------

I know you've been waiting all year for this. 

Oh yes. Yes it is. 

I present you, my invisible audience, Lorainne's Unfulfilled Resolutions of 2008.

2008 has been such a sucky year, contrary to what Chinese people thought of it last year as being a lucky year since it has the number 8. And we all know that number 8 is considered lucky because 8 has no ends, therefore making the luck circulate in an enlosed area only. Lucky 8, being concentrated in an area, obviously means that it is perennial. I used to believe that one can never go wrong with this number, because aside from the fact that my grandmother who is part-Chinese would always point it out whenever she gets the chance, I loved doodling the number 8 till the paper tears out during Math class because I don't have to make an effort to lift my hand off the surface. My pen would just go round and round and round on the twisted circle, and for reasons unknown I found pleasure in doing so. 

But the number 8 did not do any luck for this year, as all of us had bear witness to so many devastating things that happened. I for one was seriously pissed off at the gas prices that kept on increasing in the middle of the year. I was not able to enjoy my summer before college starts because fare prices were unreachable for quite sometime. And when it was time for college, I had to literally squish myself in the congested train just to get to school. Gargantuan numbers of people kept on swarming to the metro's train lines, and yeah, I think my claustrophobia has reached its second stage. I mean, if it has one or something. I, well, died. But the effort was all worth it because I luckily got exemplary grades for my first term, giving me the all the privileges only a dean's lister could get.

As if crashing stocks weren't enough, the world awoke to the news that Lehman Brothers, a high-rolling investment firm, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. This means simply means that they're out of moolah, and every bank that had invested in this firm is dead meat. It seems really harmless, if you're looking at it on a really general point of view. But if you're smart and you know better than to be all apathetic about this, you would know that the mere filing of Lehman Brothers for bankruptcy lighted the wick of the candle of global financial crisis. After this, other companies and firms stopped hiding the truth that they are all suffering the strong verge of bankruptcy. A lot of jobs were cut, and inflation rate hiked to colossal percentages. It was like the modernized version of The Great Depression, only much more depressing because I was deeply affected by all of this. My dad works in a bank in Europe, making him very susceptible of losing his job anytime. This depressed me for quite some time, sure. But I moved on and just prayed to God that he stays where he is because he has a daughter who is about to finish her degree in four years. 

Many other disastrous happenings occurred and well, I need not to elucidate them all to you. God, that's what CNN.com is for, goddamn it. But it's nice to know that we all managed to get through the year that was. May we all endure all of this shortcomings that 2008 have brought us, and may 2009 be a year of relief because dammit, 2008 redefined bullshitness right before our faces.

Alright, enough words of wisdom. Let's get it oooon.

To see the real post, click here.

Lorainne's Unfulfilled Resolutions for 2008

1. Do a damn cold turkey regarding your Coke addiction.

AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. This is probably the fifth time I made this resolution, and I swear to God, I just cannot put the damn thing into action. Every single time I see a bottle of Coke, I would instantly have this heinous thirst all of a sudden for it and I would do anything to have it in my throat. I was like a monstrous vampire who has this weird hankering for carbonated blood. When I entered college, my unearthly yearning for coke was satisfied because of the countless stalls that are selling the drink at the cheapest prize possible. And as if that wasn't enough, there are vending machines all over the campus, tempting me to stash some cash in exchange for an ice-cold can of coke.

I don't really know when will I stop drinking coke. I think it'll be better if I just stop making this a resolution for a new year because for the friggin love of God, it never ever happens. Somebody please kill me if I drink another bottle.

2. Spend less time on Bill Gates' rip-off.(PC, hello. Bullcrap. Don't pretend he didn't copy Jobs' binary codes just so he can have his own empire. Shame. He even copied Stephen Hawking's face. I will not be surprised if he has Beyonce's ass, or Angelina's lips.)

This one was very much violated. I'm already in college and paperworks are much much heavier than the ones we used to have in high school. My professor even told us that you can't survive in the campus without a laptop computer, making this resolution much more impossible to do than ever. I think I'll try to just lessen my Internet usage, for my own good. 

3. Stop being such an agnostic BS. 

I already stopped questioning God two years ago, and I must admit, it's kinda hard resisting to ask the same questions again that I used to have when I was still on the peak of my religion confusion. What's harder is studying in a Catholic university that seemingly lacks teenagers who have religious lapses or whatever. That being said, I can't help but divert back to where I was before I started raising questions; a catholic schoolgirl (there's no porn here, for crying out loud you perv you). I mean, sure, it does look like I'm changing, but I'm really not. My heart is still out there, looking for answers people around me can't provide. What's worse is that everytime I try to ask my own mother, she would accuse me of being a member of the dark side of some sort and would dig up my drawers for proof. 

4. Cut down the fat, kiddo. 

Like #1, I've been making this resolution incessantly already. But to my surprise, I was able to shed a few fat without starving my ass to death. All thanks to my parents who keep on restricting me to live in a dorm or boarding house that is close to my freaking far school. At first, I thought that I'm in for my own death because of the great tediousness commuting has brought about for my first few weeks of college. I was so not used to climbing up really high stairs and walking great distances. Never in my life had I even thought that I can climb my way up to the 9th floor of a building. But I did, I really did. 

5. Stop making expectations already and learn from your past mistakes that has to do with expecting stuff. 

I expected a lot of things that I am now regretting. Regretting that I even thought of it in the first place, and regretting that I did not appreciate other options. Expectations are pretty much normal, anyway. What makes them abnormal is how us humans react towards it. Some of us came out ecstatic, and a hefty amount came out defeated. 

I came out ecstatic.

6. Don't ever ever consider picking up that cancer stick.

Oh God, I don't even know if there's a word that can describe how I highly-violated this resolution.

And I don't even want to elaborate the fuckingness of it all.

But then I suddenly remembered that this resolution list I made last year is to friggin long, and not all of them was even put into action because it quickly dissolved into microscopic particles right at the end of the first quarter of this year. So that alone makes this list, by far, the most useless list I've made in my whole life. God, my Christmas Wish List was much better.

So, in honor of my non-conformity and love for practicality, I will not be making any resolutions for the upcoming year, which is 2009. I can simply change without any stupid list that dictates what I should or should not do. It's like having this small elf on my shoulders, reminding me of my norms that I made in order to be a better person. And I don't need no elf. 

Because every imbecile mistake already made me a better person. I don't think any other list can hold a candle to that. Not even my mom's grocery list that I once modified for my favor. Damn, I've never received such a long litany about chocolates in my whole seventeen years of living. 

So yeah. If you want me to change, pray to God that I make stupid decisions again. I will not be accepting suggestions from any of you. 

FAIL

Course card distribution day yesterday.

Goodbye DL-ship.

I did not fail a subject, but GAH. I so wanted to be a dean's lister forever. I know I can, but I slacked off. I slacked a term off. And there's no other person to blame but myself.

I can't promise that I'll get that slot back come next term. I have integral calculus, algebra 2, chemistry, and physics to deal with, for Christ's sake. I'll be lucky already if I pass them all single-handedly. The only thing I can tell is that I'll stop procrastinating and foolin' around. I don't ever wanna see a grade of 1 on a course card. Not even for nonsensical subjects like PE and Oral Communications. I am not mediocre.

And I'll prove it to you. You just wait.

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Yesterday was the ultimate roller coaster of emotions. Aside from the fact that it was course card distribution day, it was also yesterday that I am to buy my Christmas gift from my parents - a Nikon D60 DSLR camera. I know they thought that I deserve it, because of those high grades I keep on getting last term. Since both of them have been really busy with their own lives for the past few months, they didn't have an idea of my academic standing before deciding to give me what I've always wanted. I don't know if that's a relief or anything because once they find out that I just got a 1 on my analytic geometry subject, they'll surely throw my Nikon away.

Well, I'm praying that they won't.

Anyways, so yeah I went to school nervous as hell. I wore my Disneyland shirt yesterday to hide the darkness I pretty much felt that morning. It was like the grim reaper appeared with his scythe while I was doing my thing in the bathroom, just to say that he'll finally take my depressing life that afternoon. I'd rather have my life taken by some weird guy hooded with this black gown than suffer the rest of my college life being an irregular student. I mean, no offense to anybody with that academic status, but I don't think I can bear the varying fallout of it all. I'm used to getting high grades, and it would be pretty devastating to the whole clan if I suddenly receive a failing grade. They'll probably disown me, much to my dismay.

The nervousness I felt is relatively superior to that of first term's course card distribution day. This time, I was pretty much sure that I'm gonna fail almost four of my seven subjects, namely: graphics, theology, solid mensuration, and analytic geometry. I still had my hopes up for the last two, but for drawing and theology class? There exists no way that I could get through them. I failed to submit a major requirement for theology, and I got really low scores for my quizzes in graphics class. It would take some goddamn miracle for me to even get a 1.0 (passing grade).

I was slowly climbing my way to the third floor of Velasco Hall when Chino suddenly bursted to my sight with an ecstatic expression in his face. He need not tell me what just happened - for sure, he passed analytic geometry. I looked at him and he was smiling like hell as he told me that he got a 2.0. Oh. How surprising. NOT. I sighed heavily as he escorted me to that room where Mr. Razon was waiting for his students to come and get their course cards. As I was about to grasp the door knob, some of my blockmates came out on the other side of the room, exclaiming their grievances over their 0.0's. My heart pounded harder as I heard them talk more about it. I just quickly rammed the door open and strolled to get my course card. My professor handed it to me, and I hastily looked at it.

1.0

Did I read that right?

Yes. 1.0, written with a black sign pen with a tip probably around 0.5-0.7. I passed. Not with flying colors, but I passed. I don't have to repeat the course, because I passed.

Was I happy about it? Hell no. Dad would kill me for sure. And how about my mother? God, she would chop me to pieces till I say and mean that I'll try harder to get a 4.0 in hell. They just don't understand that I'm taking up one of the hardest known courses in the land, and getting a friggin 1.0 in a math subject is already a glass of cold water on a hot day. Yeah well maybe they'll probably get it all when I finally get my first 0.0 come next term or the term after next term or whenever.

I just shrugged my thoughts off and walked with Chino to buy some paper bag in the bookstore for my stuff. And by stuff, I mean people's christmas gifts, a letter, and my course card. I ended up buying this simple bag with my school's name printed on it and a pack of envelopes for the aforementioned letter. Spent a total of a hundred and thirty bucks, and I'm all good.

It was all too early for us to go to Carriedo, and for sure my maid is yet to leave the house with my camera money. To kill time. we just sat in those benches in the amphitheater and relished the cold morning air. I was babbling absurdly random things to Chino but in the corner of my mind, my guilt is hitting me like crazy. Don't you have a heart? Go and buy some gifts for your college friends! They've been such good people to you and you're just here, receiving their gifts? You deserve to be fucked by your own life! Man, my guilt is a monstrosity. But it did little to persuade me to buy gifts. I am not smitten by the Christmas spirit; ergo, I will not be buying any gifts - not even for myself.

William suddenly came to the scene and gave us the news that he got a 2.0. Ces loomed and told us that she got a 1.5. Looks like we have a party here...a party of low grades. I'm the life of that party, in case you're wondering.

(God, this is taking too slow)

Fast-forwarding to the part where we ended up going to Chino's condominium to leave our things before going to Carriedo to buy the camera, we left Burgundy and crossed the street to catch the train to our destination. I should be really excited, because hot damn, I'll be buying a camera that I've been wanting for more than a year already. But because I know that I'll be buying something that would be confiscated in the end, provided that I fail a subject, I just cannot, for the friggin love of God, ball up a consistent emotion. Well, just look on the bright side of it all: if I would be homogenuously excited, my friends would surely leave me all alone because of my incessant prancing which I am unluckily susceptible of exercising when I am ecstatic about something. If I would be all too nervous about my grades, I would depress the shit out of them - and they're already depressed about their respective grades. I don't want to add up some weight to their burdens. I'm a good friend. No, really. (*insert snickering here*)

I treated them for lunch because heck, that's the least I could do for dragging them with me. We prattled over our empty plates for a couple of minutes while waiting for my maid. When she finally appeared, we went straight to Henry's and bought the love of my life (and forever will be, just in case I end up being a spinster. I hope not.). While the store clerk was looking for a box of the camera that I requested for, I realized that the scene is just all too overwhelming. I mean, here I am, buying my camera with my new friends in the most dubious place ever for the first time. All of it, for the first time. I wanted to burst in tears right there and then if it weren't for my fucked-up memory that keeps on pointing out that I'm gonna fail graphics and theology. Damn it.

After buying the camera, we hastily went back to Chino's condominium to retrieve our things and went back to Velasco Hall to get our differential calculus course card. Don't ask me for the grade, though. It's already enough that you know that I passed it. Save me from my own humiliation, please. I went down to the lobby of the building and waited for Chino to get his course card for graphics because if it isn't still obvious enough, I don't want to get my course card for a subject that I know I failed terribly. My eyes diverted to the sight of Chino going down the stairs with a smirk on his face. Yeah, like what the fucking hell, he passed with flying colors again. He handed my course card and and and...

No 0.0. Just 3.0. THREE point zero. What in the name of miracles. I passed!

And I don't really want to narrate how the rest of that day went by. My happiness was suddenly lifted to a stage higher upon receiving my theology course card from Ces when we went to Andrew building. 4.0. FOUR. Four. How the hell did that just happen?

And you know what? I don't want to ask questions anymore. Because I'm finally happy and contented with my life, no matter how sucky it has been for the past few weeks. And really, I owe it all to nobody but God. (Don't worry, this post isn't a homily in disguise. I just want to express my gratitude..)

So what if I just erased my smarty-pantsy image by getting a 1.0 in analytic geometry? I'm still smart on my own, and I need not to hear other people say it. So what if I made an ass out of myself by getting a ticket out of the dean's list for second term? What matters is that I passed all of my subjects, and there's a lot of room for improvement, and much less for maintenance, which is something I'm thankful for.

I'm no sourgraping piece of fat ass. I'm just finally, finally and finally happy.

162 Bucks

God, this blog's a total mess. Okay. Just to clear things up, Introversion is in no way gonna shut itself down because the owner is too busy to friggin update it. But I'm very much fearing that it might do so that's why amid my lethargy, I am gonna blog. Oh yes. I. Am. Gonna. Blog.

Alright. First things first; Twilight the Movie.

Having read the superficial novel approximately eleven months ago (a far cry to the mob of newbies that the movie bore. I was at National Bookstore the other day, looking for Haruki Murakami's After Dark novel when I came across this group of people dressed in black, looking for different books from the saga. Too bad that the bookstore's out of everything with Edward Cullen in it. Or rather, too good. I'm a bad person - deal with it.), I was sandwiched between two judgments of what the movie will turn out to be; overrated and superficial to the left, excellent on the right. But as vast information about the movie quickly spread like a disease through various media, I was more like leaning to the overrated side. If you know me enough, then you would know why.

And so, my judgment proved to be so right all along - and more.

I watched the movie a week late after it was shown in the country. For one, I don't want to be in a cinema full of infatuated teenagers like my sister who would swoon everytime a part of that vampire looms into a scene. I watch films because of their artistic attributes, not because everybody's so into it and it's hitting box office records like hell. Of course, how would one look into a film as an art if everyone keeps showing their infatuation to a movie's character? Like, what the hell was that? Secondly, I was so busy with so many things on the week that it was shown that's why I relied on my sister, who is still very much drenched in her own smitten vampire fantasies, to make first-hand critiques of the movie (which, upon realizing it, turned out to be one of those dumb decisons I've made). She said it was really good, and kakakilig (kinda like infatuating).

So wrong. So so soo wrong.

In the spirit of a true introvert, I watched the movie alone at the most undesiring moviehouse in the planet - Megamall. I was supposed to watch at Shang Cineplex, but I don't wanna risk my life and precious calories by walking all the way to Megamall after the movie. I have to commute all the way home at that day, and surely enough, there exists no FX terminal in Shang. So yeah. I bought one ticket that cost me 162 bucks, and stopped by the snack bar to buy a large coke drink so I could at least do something when the movie's boring me to pieces. I hurried to the moviehouse and found myself a suitable seat just in case I don't want to finish the movie anymore - right at the back of the aisle. Works everytime.

So yeah, I arrived in that scene where Edward delivers one of those many famous cheesy lines in the book; I'll do whatever it takes to make you safe again. Cringe, baby. Cringing moment at its finest. I don't know why I even bothered to stay in the moviehouse and wait for the film to rewind so I can watch it again from the start. Maybe because I have to give some value for the 162 bucks I paid for this vampire movie about a vampire book I've read several months ago. I went out of the moviehouse at that La Push scene because clearly, I can't stand my distaste anymore.

I didn't like it, and you don't have to hate me for it. After all, it takes real art and substance for a film to please someone like me.

Don't be like my sister and be so utterly contented with movies like this. Raise your standards, even for just a bit. I know we can't all be credible film critics, but all of us can see what is clearly good and bad.

Ugh. Just give me my 162 bucks back.

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I bought Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being yesterday and I swear to God, I can't stop reading. Just seriously can't. I finally found that one book that is more than what it's worth.

I shared my mother one good realization I read in the book:

We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.

Nice, isn't it? But my mother, being the total person of authority that she thinks she really is, smirked at me and blurted out something like 'Only God knows our past...don't believe in books'.

I've never been so dumbfounded in my whole egotistical life. I wish I knew what the hell she really meant. Reminds me of this post - a lot.

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I've been blushing a lot these days.

Maybe I am really happy, after all.

Thank you, you.

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I Just Blogged 8

As I'm writing this, I'm pretty much wondering why in the world my mother bought me this spanking new compass that has this radius adjustment situated below the holder. I remember asking her to buy me a cheapass rotring compass earlier this afternoon because being a genuine idiot that I truly am, I accidentally chopped off the sharpened lead last week during graphics class. I knew about it only last Friday, while re-doing the truncated cone plate. With my amateur lead-replacing skills, I wasn't able to fix it. God, I even managed to break the remaining leads.

So yeah, while reviewing partial derivatives for our calculus quiz tomorrow, I fell asleep (having slept at already 5am this morning because of my ever unrelenting manic depression and paranoia). Then I had the weirdest dream ever.

In the dream, I was watching porn with my family. Like, what the fucking fuck, right? Oh for crying out loud, I am not in my right state to elucidate all of that.

You know sometimes, it's a good thing to get disturbed by that irritating sound your phone makes when it vibrates against a table. And for that, I just have to thank Chino for calling up. You have no idea how much that call saved my, um, innocence (if I still have one, that is). Anyways, being the good friend that I am, I tried my very best to answer his questions while defying this strong gravity on my bed. The cushions were practically dragging me back to sleep, for Christ's sake.

I heard my mom's voice boom outside the walls of my room. I hurriedly went out to retrieve my new compass from her because I need to re-do another plate.

Warning: Crappy translations.

Mom: Ang mahal pala nitong compass na rot ring. (This rot tring compass is expensive.)
Me: Ang basa po dyan, rotring. Bilisan mo yung basa, ma. At alam ko 200 lang yan ah. 180 nga lang dun sa may Edsa Central yan eh. (It's read as rotring. Read it quickly. ma. And as far as I know, it costs 200 bucks. It even costs 180 at Edsa Central.)
Mom: Ano?? E etong pinakamahal pala yung binigay nung babae saken eh! 650 pesos! Sa Ever Ortigas ko pa to binili, dahil halos lahat ng national dito sa atin eh wala na nyan. Pamasko mo na yan. (What?? The lady gave me the most expensive after all! 650 pesos! I bought this at Ever Ortigas, because almost all the branches of National Bookstore in our area is out of that compass. That's your Christmas gift.)
Me: WHAT THE...?

I can't believe my mom just bought me this high-end compass right before the last meeting of our graphics class. What the fuck will I do with this after this term? Well, yeah, this would be really useful next term, provided that I fail my graphics class this term, which is something I don't want to do because I don't wanna spend another three months tugging that big graphing kit around Manila.

I think I'll just lease my graphing kit to people who'll be taking up GRAPONE next term. Like, 2000 a term or something. Hey, that compass costs a damn lot.

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Speaking of that graphing kit, I was on a jeepney ride last week with that big shit (let's all thank Chino again for agreeing to keep my drawing tube for a week). My mom, as always, was asleep when I was trying to call her phone. We agreed the week before that she will fetch me during Tuesdays only once my FILDLAR classes start dissolving and shit. And being the lethargic mom that she is, she forgot that she has a daughter who thought that she'll be fetched by her mother.

I dropped off the Shaw Boulevard station as always, and went out of Edsa Central. After trying to call my mom five times, I gave up and decided to swallow my pride as I walked my way to the jeepney terminal. God, I can't believe how I managed to squeeze myself, my bag, and my graphing kit inside the jeepney. But yeah, it's all good.

As the jeepney waited for the green signal, this kid suddenly crept inside and stood in the middle, with his grip on the railings. He placed small envelopes on the knees of the passengers and mumbled something about his five siblings and having nothing to eat for the night. I looked around and much to my surprise, nobody was listening. It's as if he was this ghost that nobody can't see, except for me. Kinda like Jeniffer Love Hewitt on Ghost Whisperer, minus the sexy body and sexy voice.

I was the only one looking at him, and I was wondering why the fuck he won't give me a small envelope because I wanted to give him fifty pesos, the only change that I have in my wallet. As he looked around, he avoided my eyes and grabbed the small envelopes he placed before. He quickly went out, afterwards. And again, nobody even moved an inch.

Weird. Just weird.

On my way to the tricycle terminal, I was pondering on what I just saw in the jeepney. I don't know. Maybe people had already been desensitized by the bitterness of the truth that lies in the society today; people are impoverished, and they are worsening their state by atrocious acts we are all aware of. I mean, maybe I was the only one thinking that maybe, just maybe, those kids are really in dire need of something to eat for the night.

He was asking for help in a peaceful way.

And I could've helped him, had I been just really eloquent.

My Recipe for Pain

There are generally two types of sadness that exist in this modern world. The first type is when all things suddenly crash into places and you don't know what to do next. More or less, you just shut up and don't let people know anything about it until you're fed up and...yeah, depression at its finest. The second type can be accurately explained by its epitome, the emotive (Emo) culture and its respective poseurs. I need not to explain how this sadness goes, because as far as I know we've all been bothered by these people who are extremely blatant about their feelings by giving us the halloween atmosphere all year round.

But I'm not here to rant about how irritating they are. (I can make a separate hate blog for that, for Christ's sake. I'm just not in the mood to get really angry to these people and attract fights with mobs of emo kids worldwide. Maybe next time.)

For the second time in two months, I'm experiencing the first type of sadness again. If you can remember(which I'm assuming that you can't), the first depression's all about my current school depressing the shit out of me. Every single second was (and still) tormenting, even if I'm with my college friends. I'm still feeling that I don't belong there, which is paradoxical since I was able to spend four puberty-filled years in a high school that gives the same unwelcoming ambiance.

But this time, I'm pretty sure that my sadness is more serious by a higher degree. Or two.

1. My dad is on the verge of losing his job. As you all know, my dad works in a bank somewhere in Europe. With the financial crunch and economic meltdown all over the world, my father's employer is highly susceptible of cutting down jobs and I'm fearing that he would be one of the thousands of people who will be unemployed by next year. When this happens, I will not be able to finish my college degree and my siblings would have to stop schooling for us to suffice our basic necessities. It may all seem to be really exaggerated for you, but the truth is, that's not the worst thing that could happen.

2. I failed all my quizzes in my drawing class. I'm afraid that I'm finally getting that hit in the ass that I thought I'll be getting last term because of algebra. But yeah, it's definitely gonna happen now because I'm sure as hell that I'm gonna fail my graphics class. And you know what's the worse part? My professor thinks that I'm cheating on all my plates because the scores on my plates are much much higher than my quiz scores. I don't know how THAT happened, but I'm fucking sure that I'm no cheater and I shed every last drop of energy I have for all those plates.

3. I'm losing all of my friends because I'm always problematic. I'm not the same old Oyen or Lorainne who's so freaking jolly and eccentric. I just can't stop being so poignant about how my life is getting more and more tragic each day, and needless to say, I'm starting to drive people out of my life.

Earlier this day, I had this unmeasurable excitement over the fact that my best friend and I will be swimming at the village clubhouse and spending the night together playing her new Guitar Hero. I bought snacks at Hypermarket with my mom, and even resisted the urge to finish my pending plates because she wanted to see how shitty my drawing can get. I thought I can finally release all my troubles away, because I'll be able to be with the person who has always been there for me, unlike those others who are acting like friggin asymptotes all of a sudden.

And abruptly, it's all not happening. It's like everything I expected turned into a clear illusion of how I wanted my weekend to go.

Maybe I really do deserve all of this; the pain, the suffering, the sadness...all of it. I just hope that someone can help me get through all of this.

And I prefer someone I don't know, please.

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Out of the sea of people I could really really really miss right now, there is only one friend that stands out.

Patti, thank you for your text message. :) People like you makes me realize that there is more to life than moping around.

But I'm just really down right now.

Wasting Chances

I was deciding a while ago if I would start a mini commotion between this one person of the past and me. It's starting to hit me that my life is getting more boring each day, and I have to do something fun so as to avoid those dark suicidal times that I don't want to have again. And by something fun, what I mean is getting my ass into trouble, and my heart into vengeance.

This is practically easy, since picking up a fight is one of my known fortes. I can just IM some fugly person off my messenger list, and act like an asswipe by taunting him/her with harsh words.If people would take my words seriously, then there's little doubt that chance would grant me that catfight I so want to have right now. But it just so happens that I've already reached the end of puberty, which technically means that I have to stop my juvenile stints because I would look really immature to the eyes of everybody. And people thinking that I'm still a darn kid is the last thing I want to know.

So, I slashed off Easy Option number 1.

My brain diverted again to my initial plan of reviving the past and finally saying some good ol' words to this certain person my life used to depend on. I wanted to say how much I miss this person, and that I am still very much infatuated with this fuzzy feeling I am yet having again. And it's not friggin diarrhea again, mind you. God, you have no idea how many times I've contributed my own dump a few weeks ago because of my sick stomach to the school's sewage system. And if by any chance you happen to be that girl who was brushing her teeth while I was releasing bad stuff, I hope your teeth's still there.

It's a sad, sad thing that I just simply have to have a stormy commotion for my own entertainment. I don't even get it why I have to be evil in that way.

And for the nth time, I don't need love. Like, what the fuck.

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Calculus is starting to be such a pain in the ass, neck, and brain (GAH especially my brain. I can't take any long hand solutions any more). It used to be so darn easy for me to understand, even if I kept on failing quizzes. Well, what can I even expect from a subject with 4 units? Stuffed toys? Yeah WE ALL WISH that it would just be about stuffed toys. But differential calculus just really had to be about functions and crap.

You know, this is one of those things that I'm scared of encountering during college. Not really calculus per se because calculus can be a bit easy if you try to listen to the teacher and pretend to understand everything and grab that thick calculus book and just read everything (well in our case, that is). Word problems. I'm scared of level 100 - calculus word problems. I'll give you a sample from this quiz about maxima and minima (google it if it's all alien to you) we had a while ago.

A movie screen on a wall is 20 feet high and 10 feet above the floor. At what distance x from the front of the room should you position yourself so that the viewing angle (theta) of the movie screen is as large as possible?

I knew how to solve it. But being such a scaredy cat and refusing to jot down ideas that popped out of my head to help me solve it in a quick and effortless way just lead me to nowhere. I passed my booklet with that page left no answer. Just sketches and sketches of triangles. Cool.

A while ago before typing this sentence, I googled maxima and minima and as it sourly turns out, all of the problems in the quiz are in just one website. Oh good. Our professor just copied them out from a tutorial website that I could have accessed days ago had I just googled maxima and minima. Great.

And just to make things official, I am gonna fail calculus. All because I ignored Google. Google, you're a god. Googlism shall be my religion.

That is, if your database-searching sexiness will help me pass calculus.

Post Anniversary

I'm repressed, unpredictable, and imbecile.

But underneath it all, I'm just plain happy. And it's because of you and this one guy I shall never bring up again.

Thanks for the four years, and may we have another century to rant about together.

I'll still blog in hell while I'm burning for my sins, you know.

For what it's worth, I express my deep gratitude to Blogger and to everyone who's letting extreme boredom into their systems and consequently reading my online journal. My blog might not be as expensive as those other blogs you have encountered, but it's still good. Good as my ass.

Here's to you, Introversion.

The OLD layout of this blog

I accidentally opened Opera yesterday and my old blog just appeared right there and then. Sucky layout. Sucky edits. Sucky pictures. Sucky grammar. Sucky owner. Sucky everything.

And what do you know? Being sucky rules, after all. Just don't overdo it or people will start hitting you or something.

I only have me...yeah, sure. Still the same banana. The only difference now is that I only have myself, not me. It's more than just the grammar bullshit. It's about...

Me.

(Oh crap. Sorry for the weird post. It's almost half-past one in the morning and I'm still wide awake. I have a calculus class scheduled 8 hours from now and I'm still wide awake. I've finished ALL the plates that I need to submit for graphics class and I'm still wide awake. What the friggin hell is up with my brain? Yeah, God really knows the answer to this unrelenting question, but that Holy Guy just wouldn't give me answers. I guess I'm just gonna fuck myself up again.)

(And who the hell even celebrates a blog anniversary? And even a month late, at that.)

Forgive My Turbulence

I find it funny and weird that amidst the superlative number of really really REALLY cute guys that tickles my fancy, I'd still go back to my obsession over this one boy that I still love. It's like those cute boys are just merely fascinating walking paintings that I can't help gushing on like a foolish fan girl in a boy band concert, nothing more and nothing less. But this boy that I truly hunger for with all my heart? No one can ever match up to that. Well, not that it matters or anything.

This certain blockmate amazes me, really. Everytime I'm with him, he would point to me a girl he finds absolutely hot and pretty, and would make this futile yet funny effort to deliver a "cute guy" stance for that girl to see. At first, I was pretty much startled because I didn't know that boys like hot girls a lot. See, I didn't get to experience a lot of fun puberty moments with boys because I went to a high school with people who wear panties under checkered skirts, so this all was just a new thing for me. In the long run, I got so used to their checking out activities that it would now surprise me if they won't acknowledge some girl's hotness right in front of me.

But behind it all, he's wallowing in sorrow because of this one girl he truly loves. As it is slowly turning out, he's been making this unmatched effort to make the girl reciprocate his deep affection for her since their high school days. It's been that long. And for reasons unknown, they cannot reach that serious relationship point. I won't feel really sad about it if what he is feeling is just mere infatuation. But almost five years of dire devotion to somebody (who isn't GOD) is really something else deeper. That's why I'm pretty much impressed at his vigor.

I'm not being all pre-valentina here by elucidating feelings and whatnot. It's just that sometimes, the best way to get over something is to simply let it out loud. People are tired of hearing me profess my love to this one person, because everybody knows that it's already over, and what I'm feeling is just a ball of shrapnels of that infatuation bomb that exploded almost a year ago already. But I still beg to disagree. There are so many cute boys in school, yet he's still my favorite viand.

Because at the end of the day, you will still return to that one person you love, even if God showers you with a truckload of beautiful people. Sure, they're good to the eyes and to some private parts at times. But that person you care for so much? He/She's good for everything, at the very least.

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Yeah. Finally. A friggin sign.

Yesterday while I was getting off the FX taxi at SM North, my knees weakened and my arms suddenly became numb. I thought that this abrupt physical torture was just all because of the fact that I skipped breakfast because I woke up late again for fucking community service. Mom offered to drive through McDonald's for some quick breakfast, but I declined after seeing that it's already 7:00AM and I'm still in Pasig City. So yeah, after my knees and arms, my stomach suddenly stabbed me with this tormenting pain. I hastily changed my clothes and hurried off to Taco Bell to grab lunch before meeting up with people I'm supposed to watch Madagascar 2 with. I thought that maybe half of the Crunchwrap would easily sweep off the pain, but NO. I didn't finish my food for I was too agonized, and I limped my way to the cinema.

I didn't really get to enjoy the film because of my stomach bitching around. I swore that if this won't stop till Monday, I'll dig it up on my own and throw it to our noisy neighbor. Enjoy my rotten stomach, you boisterous son of a bitch.

Later that night, I thought of reasons as to why my stomach is aching like hell. Skipping breakfast? No. Asthma? Obviously, no. Food poisoning? I've eaten so many junk in my life that my body's already immune to toxics.

Coke?

OH YES.

I've been drinking Coke every single day of the previous week and the previous week of that week and the previous week of that week and the previous week of that week and the previous...

To cut the shit short, I've been drinking non-stop for quite a month now.

I remember last last Thursday when I went to Charlene's party with my stomach grumbling because I haven't eaten anything. The first thing I grabbed was a bottle of beer, and expectedly, I gulped it all down. My stomach punched me to death. (And no, this one's not really connected to anything I've said about the Coke thing.)

I've been waiting for a sign to check myself in at Coke rehab(not that it exists or anything.) for the longest time, and now that I have to restrain my throat from this soda, I'm gonna discipline my ass.

Wish me luck.

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Realizations

I can't believe my own body is doing this all to me. SRSLY. I haven't had any normal sleep for the past few weeks and I can't blame anyone nor anything except my body, which have been acting kinda weird ever since I started sniffing friggin steroids again. It's been three years since I stopped inflating my body with anti-asthma steroids and from then on, I've been living like a martyr. And since martyrdom is something I do not, in any way, want to practice, I threw my useless inhaler away and snatched my brother's purple diskus to finally give my dying lungs a break.

Aside from my shoulders getting abnormally huge and the unrelenting lethargy, the steroids have been giving out so much benefits that I used to only wish of. Like my lungs drifting off to heaven, or the cool stance I wasn't able to show for three years because of my inhaler. Damn that inhaler.

So, yeah. I went to school half-asleep today. My eyes were so heavy that I slept for quite a moment while I was on the escalator connecting the platform of the train to the second floor of the station. I was drifting off in little naps while waiting for our professor, and I also dozed off in the train on my way home. I just don't get all of this sleepy bullshit. I can easily fall asleep when I'm on the move, and I can't sleep when I'm already lying on my bed. How weird is that?

Conclusively, I just wish that Sandman would just get his act together and quit fooling around. It's not summer time, for Christ's sake. I have two plates and a calculus quiz to get through, and surely enough, I can't manage to just fall asleep whenever and wherever I want to.

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I realized so many things after attending my friend's party last Thursday. One of which is that I don't need to transfer to UP because my friends from other colleges/universities in the party are also having the same manic depression this college thing is giving us all. Weeks ago, I was really sure that I'm gonna dump my current school over another school because it's making me
regret about my choices and stuff. I already reached that point where I was finding various papers that I need in order to leave La Salle and go for UP already.

And then, my high school friends shared the same sentiments about their respective college lives. Suddenly, I wasn't alone anymore.

It all just hit me like a big rock; you can't always have what you want, and leave something that's already good in return. Besides all of it being so stupid, it's just telling all of ye that I'm as immature as those people I'm criticizing because of their callowness. I don't really want to end up as a hypocrite here.

I'm not moving. And even if it takes me a millenium to be contented to where I'm in already, I'll go through it all. Except of course when my dad suddenly runs out of moolah and we're dead meat. When that time comes, y'all should expect me in the streets of Taft Avenue, snatching off your belongings.

HA.

Enough of this drama. I have to study for my calculus quiz.

Random

This has got to be the most random day ever - aside from my own birthday and someone's birthday that I clearly do not know, of course. As usual, I woke up extra-late for community service because I spent the previous night making friggin flash cards and arithmetic equations for those kids that I have to share my knowledge to. I would always wake up at 6:30AM, and the call time is 7:30. I don't really have a clue on how I managed to get to the parking lot of Harrison Plaza in an hour's time, given that my house is ridiculously far from Vito Cruz. And there's no way I just suddenly flew or something.

Well, probably God's amazing grace again.

So, as usual, I took a nap in the jeepney for good fifteen minutes because four hours of sleep is already considered inhuman in these days that I'm not really supposed to be stressful and stuff. Yeah, I taught the kids again, blah blah blah. I dozed off again on the way back to Vito Cruz, and quickly retrieved my drawing papers from Chino and climbed up the deadly stairs of the LRT. The prickling heat of the sun is practically melting my whole fatness right in front of the security guard's eyes, and my smell is drenching the whole atmosphere of the train. I wish I'm exaggerating, but I saw some lady's nose wrinkle when I reached for the safety handrail. I get it - I stink.

Carrying my stench in my underarms, I got off at Shaw Blvd. and walked my way from the train station to Megamall under the light rain. I tripped over a big rock and everyone witnessed it. And did I mention that the big rock happened to be on the sidewalk of EDSA? Well, yeah. Even those who are walking in front of me turned back because of the monstrosity they felt. It's as if the earth shook, and they all thought it was a friggin earthquake or something. To all ye people, it was just me.

I instantly bought a snack in one of those stalls in front of the supermarket to ease my hunger that caused my great fall. For some weird reason, my other taste buds seem to be on a vacation and the sour buds are the only ones that are ready for some real munching. Since even my yakisoba that's supposed to taste sweet tasted like sour grapes, I threw it even if there's still half of the meal remaining. Every single snack I bought after spoiled my appetite, so I just went to the FX terminal to go home already since I just can't use up all my money to try and find something that wouldn't taste so sour. I opened the back door and squeezed myself to the far corner of the left seat. The FX was still lacking two passengers, so it idled for a few more minutes. An old man occupied the seat beside me, and a seemingly gay person opened the door to occupy the seat in the middle.

Strange. That gay person reminds me of my fourth grade teacher back in my co-ed elementary school.

He turned his face to the left to give his fare to the the driver. and BAM. Fourth grade teacher.

It was rather the longest FX ride of my life. A part of me wants to greet him and tell him how much he made myself a better person by making me play the star actress role in those plays we used to have back in those fourth grade days. Yet there's still also this other part that wants me to just ignore his knowing stares and stop looking at his direction. I'm just scared that he might blab about my ridiculous weight gain over the 6 years in front of all the other passengers, which will, of course, be just plain humiliating.

I can already hear the hurting words.

Gay Teacher: Lorainne? Grabe naman tinaba mo!
Me: OH SORRY.

It could've been really fun if he could've just ignored my evident fatness and just sit back and listen to what I have done since he last smeared his rainbow to my face.

Gay Teacher: Lorainne? Ano na nangyare sa'yo?
Me: Well, I...

To cut the shit short, I've done a LOT. So let's just leave it there to avoid further swaggering.

SIlver Chicken

The number of times that I stood up for my thoughts by submitting an essay is abnormally inferior to those of the number of times that I actually chickened out of chances to do so. I'm having this weird theory that I really do have chickens for real parents, which is actually much better compared to real parents(specifically MY parents) because they just lay eggs and be cute and star in various versions of Babe and Charlotte's Web. They don't shout at each other while their chicks gawk at them, absorbing the weirdness of it all in. Yeah well, I'm pretty much aware that having chickens to rule the household is too good AND stupid to be true.

God, how the hell did I just elucidate chickens?

ANYWAYS.

I was supposed to submit this superficial article I made after seeing my professor sing like there's no tomorrow. That article is in no way connected to the concert we were required to watch, and I just grabbed a pen and paper and started writing shit. The music, together with the choir's melancholic voice, seemingly entered my system so easily and inspired the mediocre out of me to jot down thoughts that I hid somewhere in my foot a long time ago. Those were thoughts that I know no one would ever care to listen to if I blurt them out, let alone be read if I write them. I'm obviously just being so friggin' emotive, sure, but I just have to let this out so I can lessen the burden my own life is putting on my shoulders.

So yeah, I was supposed to submit it to Youngblood (PDI). I was so determined to do so, that I even heeded advices from those few selected people I sent a copy of this essay. I'm not bragging or anything, but they all thought it was great, and that I really should let the whole newspaper-reading nation read this.

But at the last second, I deleted the draft I was supposed to send to YB and just shrugged all of it off. I mean, forget it. The Philippine's leading newspaper has no room for my second-ratedness and I am not deserving of the glory that having your article printed on paper that is distributed to the whole nation offers.

I am just simply not enough.

You know, maybe that's the reason why I keep chickening out of these gargantuan and stupendous chances God (who is obviously not witnessing what I have been doing) is continuing to give me. I've always thought that I am not enough for everything - kinda ironic for somebody so fucking big.

So, I'll just post the article here. In my trashbag.

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Silver Lining

I’m betting my month’s allowance on the fact that most of the kids my age don’t really have that unfortunate lapse similar to that of the Great Depression of late 1920 will surely occur if this will stay constant for along duration of time. They don’t know that despite the reality that oil prices are gradually climbing down at $80 a barrel, people wouldn’t really be able to uplift their respective financial exigencies because with a bunch of banks breaking their silences by filing bankruptcies, people are losing their money. They don’t know that in spite of news reports and interviews from the president saying that the country is in good shape to handle the current economic crisis and hence far from recession, people will still lose their jobs, as firms and businesses close down because of minuscule demands.

They don’t know that despite of the happy faces and laughter I share with all of them, my heart is wallowing inside. My dad could lose his own job any time now, and I’m apparently just waiting for my mom to break out in tears and tell the sad news for me. That scene would be such an award-winning stance for a prime time soap opera. It just sucks that it had to be based on the most tragic part of my life – next to my own death, of course.

My dad works in a bank somewhere in Europe as an IT Consultant. Ever since he started there five years ago, he was only able to go back here for three times. One was that Christmas of 2004, then the Christmas of 2006 when we went to Disneyland, and a random week in January of 2007. They are all so amazingly distinct that I can remember them so vividly in my mind. But generally, the cycle goes like this: we fetch him at the airport, he and mom would battle each other in a shouting contest, and my siblings and I would try our best to swallow down big lumps in our throats as my dad gets on the airport taxi to fly back to Europe – all of that in a span of four days.

The mere sight of my dad just leaving us without saying a fatherly goodbye is probably the most disheartening scene I could pay billions to not ever witness again. I can still myself and my siblings slumping in our sofa, looking at each other, and before we know it, tears are rolling down our swollen faces. Did our own father really appear in front of our eyes? Or did he just drop by in Manila to pick up his soaps? I never really knew the answer because ever since the last time he went here, he instantly lost all of his time and money to go back again. I wanted to shrug off the fact that he missed my high school graduation. But matters like this prove to be really hard to forget.

Psh. I know any OFW kid feels the same anyway.

I could think of a thousand reasons why my dad couldn’t lose his job right now; the family is still heavily dependent on the money he’s earning, I’m still in my freshman year in college, our savings aren’t enough to suffice the fallout - just to name a few. But there’s only one unrelenting reason why he should: he’s staring to think that he’s just our trade partner or something.

He’s still our father, and he needs to come back home..

Well, what do you know? There’s a feasible silver lining in this economic breakdown after all.

BDTGD* Sentiments

*Bad-Day-Turned-Good-Day

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There are awfully far more bad days God have created for me than, of course, those good days I wish I can always have. But then there are also those days that are half-bad and half-good, and you and I know that this isn't one of those days Ye Great Lord have made.

Hence, today.

I knew from the moment I woke up (and thank my melatonin shortage for even managing to do so) this morning that this day will suck ass. I have this inexplicable gift of sensing how my day will go by by just staring at those circle designs on my room's curtains. If those circular things seem to be...well, just damn circular and nothing else, my day will go well. Otherwise, if those circles irritate the shit out of me and just make me want to rip them all off right there and then, then of course the day will surely not go well. Man, those curtains are my life. One time. when I came home and found my windows covered in new curtains, I screamed my frustrations out in my bathroom before talking to the maid about the curtain thing. I could've strangled the poor lady if it weren't for um...the bathroom.

Yeah well anyways, as my eye lids smashed open to the music of The Ting Tings' Shut Up and Let Me Go (my sister would always open the radio as she gets up every morning), my eyeballs quickly averted to the curtain. And yeah, I was so pissed off at those round things that I even tossed this special pillow to their direction. In fact, everything totally pissed me off - the door, the table, the papers, the computer...even my own bag, for Christ's sake. Random stuff about those things made me really furious by the time I got in the car - the door being wooden, the table being so friggin brown, the papers being so light. Call me insane, or crazy, or down right autistic, I won't really care. This happens when I'm ineffably depressed about so many things, and I have yet to find the cure for this lunatism.

Now I don't really know how the hell my perfunctory curtain gift flipped. I mean, I don't get it, really. I got in the 6AM train really early, so I should be grateful. I was able to answer my ANAGEOM quiz even with the lilliputian studying I did the night before, so I should be grateful. I was able to absorb everything my professor laid out on the board in my calculus class, so I should be grateful. My mind was unbelievably in the mood for research class (which is strangely a hard thing to acquire these days), so I really should be grateful.

But it wasn't until I found out that Ayu and I are in the same elevator that I realized that I really should be thankful, after all.

And you know what I think?

I think I'm depressed because I need to see my high school friends as soon as possible - right before I decide to transfer to another school because my current school is depressing the shit out of me. I need to catch up on that fruitful life I once had, and I know that seeing those people who made me feel a lot better about everything with booze and laughter will smoothen out this rocky road. I have yet to meet somebody who can surpass my high school friends' ability to emphatize really good.

And I know that somebody is definitely NOT in my current school. Yeah well I know where the hell HE is.

Boy, do I know a lot, or what?

After our classes, Alyssa and I went to Tea Blends to have ourselves some good 'ol Nai Cha to wash down stupid worries about life in general. As we walked out of Archer's Lair, we saw Raia and Lexi and yeah, they all made me miss that certain fun I used to have in my life. I'm fully aware that I'm being ostentatiously emotive about all of this, but where can I put all of my sentiments, right? My friends are all busy in their respective semestral breaks and I'm pretty sure that they'd rather sleep than hear me mope like a dying dolphin.

To God, please transfer me to a new school already. I promise I'll...I'll...oh forget it. I'm no good at making promises anyway.


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Oh. And Happy Birthday to Lawrence and Delamar. Random.