Listed

1. I am not keeping my hopes up this time. There are limitations to my be-all attitude, that much I know. Such is why I know I am not going to accept that job offer should it come. I'm sorry to myself. I feel the ungratefulness of such an action, given that I'm all-clamor for other job offers. But I cannot do the same for this one. At least, not now. And I'm sad.

2. Blog-hopping landed me on one of the blogs I kept myself completely updated with in my 3rd year in college: my then professor's Comm Capsule. Reading from it seemed like ages ago. And I felt quite funny when I looked around and found the new batch of 152 students' blogs, mainly because there was a great air of excitement that I doubted would stay on for long. I had that, too, the excitement. When I thought blogging's real fun even if it's for school. But maybe, these people are different. I hope they are. (P.S. There is no sarcasm in here, albeit my defensiveness. LOL.)

3. Reading through a friend's tweets, I've seen she's just found out that the e-versions of a book series she's downloaded are written in Spanish. I've known long ago since I also downloaded the same set. And I forgot to tell her. This is me guilty. Unintentionally.

4. I'm thinking about watching Post-Grad, that movie that can just as easily be the story of my life. For the simple reason that I may relate all too well. I won't like that. Really. But story seem's cool. Should I, should I not?

5. Tomorrow's Ortigas day. . . ! Okay, I'm only half-excited. Because that trip's gonna cost me more pennies I'm totally not earning and am completely saving up. Honestly, money's real hard to come by in my current status (which explains credits of mine that I haven't paid yet. I'm sorry). But hopefully, tomorrow's spending would come back nicely.

6. ECLIPSE is on today. And I cannot just go out and watch it. Cos that's more pennies worth and less. Boohoo.

Sooooooo . . .  somehow, I'm re-reading this particular post before publishing and I feel like my writing is seriously impaired due to the lack of additional experience and exposure to the world at large. These are numbered quips, for a reader's sake. *sniff* *scoff* *near tears*

Forgive me, dear brain.

To the Parents of Aspiring-to-be-UP-students

(DISCLAIMER: I hope you read this before everything else below. These are unsolicited words and thoughts that are the result of spending most of my today with you, waiting for our relatives'/friends' names to be called as indication that their Test Permits are ready. I'm not writing this to foster anything negative. Everything is matter-of-factly.)

Today, you've experienced the least bit of system that the University of the Philippines have. Today, you've caught a glimpse of what your daughters, sons, friends' children, and relatives are likely to experience should they pass the UPCAT. And today, you've inadvertently complained about what you've seen.

I was a part of that system for four years, albeit the difference in terms of geographical location. And may I just say that what you've had today is completely normal, at least in UP standards.

UP's system is composed of lines, lots and lots of it. Long, short, irate, cool--everything is in line.

I had those lines. I had that every start of my semesters, so I could enroll. I had the longer ones the times when I did not get slots or schedules. I had that when I needed semestral stickers for my ID. And until after I graduated, I had lines to fall in for my clearance.

UP is also a bit off on the technological side. (This goes especially to the mother who complained about having to wait anew for the Test Permit.) They don't exactly have lots of computers in their offices. Thus, they can't just get your child's name and have the Permit printed right before your very eyes.

When I was in school, there were times when LCD projectors would break down. Or when the electricity would be cut and we had to wait for it to come back lest we want to have class in the dark. Worse, there were times when computers and equipments needed for the registration system would simply bog down.

Another thing, UP is not really known to maintain high-class comfort rooms. You might have seen other universities have toilets that flushes well and with disinfectants. That is not a normal scene in UP. You're even lucky there's water in the sink. And that there's a sink.

Lastly, the University of the Philippines consists of a myriad of cultured--and occasionally out-of-cultured, people. You are shocked, evidently. Of students who wear jogging pants (with the letters S, E, X, and Y in its rear) and walk the streets as if they're in a simple neighborhood. Of people who have tattoos and who smoke. Of the church uncrowded. Of the less-than-elite eating areas (and isaw stalls).

Those are parts of life the UP way.

If, by the goodness of circumstances, your child passes the UPCAT, he/she would be part of that. Please, be prepared.For late-night affairs with computers (for papers to be submitted the following day). For stories of professors not coming to class for a month (or coming without a lesson to give out). For the day your child would go home saying he/she watched the Oblation Run (yeah, many parents get the shock of their lives in that particular instance). For the rallies/demonstrations, which you may see on television, that are happening on UP's grounds (look closely at that TV screen, your child's fist might be in the air). And for the many changes that would happen to your children.

My own parents had their share of shock. And irritation. And anger. And sense of pointlessness. At least, know what you're in for.

Despite all of that though, one thing every single person who's ever been part of that system can assure you is the fact that after everything, your child is four years more mature. Like nowhere, nothing, no one else. Your children would be open-minded, would be aware, and would know how to deal with the world. They would learn the way through life with hardships, then appreciate one without.

Hopefully, you see that through. Hopefully, you live that through.

Killed

1. By Aguinaldo Highway and EDSA's superbly heavy traffic.

Had a 9am interview at Ortigas. Left 'round 7 (fine, I live in Cavite so I should've went out earlier) and was met by rows and rows of vehicles. The result: I was 30 minutes late. The upside: other applicants came in later.

2. By the applicants' exam.

And I mean it when I say killed. It was just so damn long. First part was not really the exam proper; it was the information sheet where you put everything they would ask you in the FTF interview (which means I wouldn't be surprised if they ask me the same things that are in there.

Second part was a complete-the-phrase-with-the-first-thing-that-comes-to-your-mind "exam". Phrases like "I get upset when", and "My greatest mistake was", and "I feel depressed when", and "The future is". You get the idea.

Third part was a PR exam. As in writing a welcome letter to clients, coming up with a Christmas-offering press release, and lay-outing a poster.

Needless to say, my hands are killed. So is my brain.

3. By afternoon interviewer's rescheduling.

Because I was really looking forward to that interview. End of story.

4. By MRT-Shaw Blvd.'s 100 steps EACH for going up and coming down sides.

I hate walking lengths. And climbing heights. Come on, give my heart a break MRT people. Why won't your elevator work, for the world's sake?

5. By bus-lunch.

Because I was really hungry and yet as frustrated for having been rescheduled. I ate. Starch and fats. Boo.

And yes, I'm ranting.

The Unexpected Difference

(2nd of two post-Fathers' Day entries)

At first glance, my brother is just like any other 19-year-old. Fine, maybe a little different. That's in terms of his lack of enthusiasm for anything academic, his non-compliance to house rules, his knack for vises when they're most prohibited, and his everyday habit of irritating his sisters.

But he's still a teen who loves Lakers-vs-Celtics shows, who bikes and plays basketball, who goes out with friends, and who dances in school programs.

Yes, at first glance, my brother's just like any other teen. Except for one thing.

At 19, he also is a father to a 1-year-old.

Kheeno, my pamangkin, just turned a year old last May 28. If you do Maths (which I don't, seriously), you'd come to realize that he's been my brother's son for the a little over a year. Kheeno lives with his mother and visits us every week.

Kheeno with his 1st birthday gift

The whole thing was a shock, needless to say. To my mother, who's always almost begged for my brother to lessen his failing marks. To my father, who's also had his first kid at 19. To my younger sister, who's never thought she'd be an aunt at 14.

And even to me, who's always known that my parents' first grandchild would not be mine. I did not expect that too soon.

But despite all the shock, all the hurting words my brother's girlfriend's mother had thrown at us, and all the adjustments we've had to make, I still find something worthy of Kheeno's unexpected arrival.

My brother is now as responsible as he's got to be.

He now saves his allowance, not for new clothes but for his son's milk and diapers. He now cares about rashes and sneezing. He has also developed a fondness for children's toys.

My brother, Roy, and his son

We've never spoken ill of Kheeno or of the early parenthood (and early grandparent-hood and aunt-hood). We've come to accept him as one of us.

The child has brought us a new liking for anything with lights and sounds. He's given us something to look forward to every weekend. And he's made us be well aware of things we've never thought we'd encounter.

But if there is one more thing Kheeno has brought to us, it's a sense of hope. Hope that my brother won't turn out to be what we've always feared he will. Hope that by next year, college graduation for him would come. Hope that from now on, he'd work harder for a better him.

In His Own Way

(1st of two post-Fathers' Day entries)

I am not a Papa's girl. Everyone knows that, including me and my father. If only for the fact that everyone in the family is not at all expressive. Well, that's except for my sister who's really malambing despite her being a brat. Such is why she's branded as Papa's favorite.

But being quite aloof and a bit more independent does not mean I don't adore my father. I do, in my own little way. And because of his own little ways, too.

My mother, me, and my father on Graduation Day

Papa is not the type who shouts at you. In fact, he's scarier when you barely hear him. And especially when he does not talk at all. Like the times when you go home late and you sort of just slip behind him not bothering to say where you've been. You just know you're in trouble when he does not even look at you.

The cliche scene of a parent being barely home and up to talk to his children is also a classic to us. My father is one who naps on the living room floor while waiting for his turn to use the bathroom. He's one you can hardly tell stories to especially when he's tired. Then he's off to officially sleep. And before you know it, he's off to work the following morning.

Despite of all these, I cannot deny my father's got superb parenting style.

You can talk him to allowing you to attend birthday parties (though I don't ask as often cos I don't like attending much parties myself). He's also someone who agrees on overnights (of course, only when it's reasonable to do so). And he lets you be wherever you are.

Plus, you can talk back to him.

Papa's also not the kind of father who demands from his children. We're never pushed to be tops of our classes. We're even saved from the expectation of graduating on time.

Personally, I benefit a lot from that style of his. Not to mention that we're most alike in some ways. Like not talking too much at home. Not being too confrontational when we're really upset. And that grave, grave shyness from cameras (the photo included in this post is actually our first since . . . my baptism? Yeah, 'round that time.)

He's also one to greet me first on my birthday. He drives me to places I cannot reach by public transpo. He fetches me from the highway when I go home late and am not able to catch rides from the jeepney bay.

These little acts of his are what makes me smile every time. My father may not be the best there is, but he's as good as he's gonna get.

I am not a Papa's girl. But I am certainly my father's daughter.

P.S.

By the time I get to write this, it's also my father's birthday (June 21st). Thus, my greetings 'Pa. :>

5 Jobs I Want But I Definitely CANNOT Have

. . . and why I cannot have them.

(And BTW, let's just pretend I have not talked about wanting jobs for the past few months, please? :>)

1. Trapeze Artist. They perform acrobatics while almost entirely suspended in the air. I cannot say what exactly in being a trapeze artist attracts me. Maybe because I'm not actually scared of heights. Or because being up there may just feel like flying. And you get to be a pretty flexible person, too. I think. :))

But here's the catch: I am an exceptionally physically-uncoordinated person. Meaning, I cannot make certain that my hand moves left when my brain says so. Or that I cannot even play table tennis because my body swerves the opposite way my eyes see. So being up on a trapeze, which means I need a perfect brain-body coordination, is like suicide.

2. Pastry Chef. Who does not love pastries? Well, I do. I really do. I am the type who gets

satisfied just by looking at photos of different kinds of pastries. Which means that I'm

definitely going to have the time of my life working for a pastry shop or even a small

bakery.

However, I'm scared of ovens. Really. Literally. Like, I cannot possibly touch one. Even

when it's not turned on. I work better with stoves, with fires, than with ovens. Don't ask me

why.

3. Private Investigator. As in Sherlock, and cameras, and crimes, and ballistics test, and

logical games. You get the picture. They, for some reason, thrill me. I would even give

anything just to be part of the Philippines' National Bureau of Investigation (NBI).

But, of course, I can't. Aside from physical, medical, and even psychological tests that I have

no certainty of passing, I am an ultimate klutz. Like the one who breaks a glass that innocently sits on the center of a table. Or the one who trips on her own feet. Talk about

silent-following-slash-spying on people without giving yourself out.

4. Pilot. Okay, a woman pilot. Or whatever you call a woman who flies a plane. Yes, I wanna

be like one. I can just imagine controls and levers and radio calls. There would be the sky

and the clouds. I get to fly, if only imitatively.

And yet, Philippine Airlines (PAL) and I guess all other airlines here and abroad, require

their pilots to be of at least 5'4'' in height and to have 20/20 vision. Which is totally

understandable. But if I may just say, I'm not even reaching 5 ft. nor do I have perfect

eyesight (I wear glasses, however occasionally). So flies that option.

5. Ballet Dancer. I am not honestly sure if this qualifies as a job. But nonetheless. *stubborn chin* I would love to perform ballet routines. So elegant, so soft, so beautiful.

"I don't dance. . . . At all. As in I can't." Or something like that, as Landon

Carter put it. Same goes for me. As in I can't. No need to elaborate.

Maybe life would be different for me if I get to be just one of these. Maybe days would be more exciting. Maybe my perspective would be changed.

Nevertheless, no regrets as to what I am now. Or what I would be, as my background would allow. That's one cliche I live by. For everything has and happens for a reason.

* Photo credits: Broadway World, Dreamstime, TopGun, thestar.com, and thinkquest.org.

So You Think You Wanna Be Alone?

If not for the fact that my mind's being boggled by non-events; I like this page happy, you know.

But here goes for all it's worth: the pros and cons of pseudo-independent living.

PROS:

1. You get to wake up any time you want. No one would dare hit you with a pillow or pull your mattress from underneath (if you're sleeping on the floor, that is). You also get to wake up any time you want . . . and sleep again.

2. You have the computer, the Net, the TV, and anything to yourself. No siblings to count the time with and have the time counted against you. No one to make you change channels or switch songs.

3. The house is cleaner when you're alone. Admit that or not, your living room's a lot more in place than when there are other people around.

But of course, life ain't perfect. Hence, the CONS:

1. No breakfast to wake up to. Be it an earlier-riser's leftover or a freshly cooked (or bought) food for the late, the table's just empty. And so is your stomach.

2. If you live with people who rushes through early mornings (off to work and school), chances are, you're left to clean after them. Lo and behold messy and uncapped toothpaste tubes.

3. What on earth are you supposed to do when you're alone for one entire day? What if the Net malfunctions? What if there isn't anything on the TV worth watching? What to do then, talk to yourself?

Make-shift indie life. Be careful what you wish for, cos you just might get it all.

Project #1

My friend and I talked last night, briefly, about Ebook readers. Well, about books first--particularly the Harry Potter series--and then on to Ebook readers.

As it is, we share the same love for reading albeit the difference of genres we enjoy. Hence, the attraction of owning an Ebook reader. We've mentioned the Kindle, like that of Sharon Cuneta's.

I Googled it, needless to say. Now, I'm no tech-savvy or a gadget enthusiast. Thus, I'm only going to reiterate points I'm attracted to from this website.

The Amazon Kindle (Source)

10.2 oz, a little over 1/3" thick, stores up to 1500 from a wide selection of 340,000 books, and a long battery life. The price: $259.

That's real mucho, considering that in Philippine peso it amounts to somewhere more than

10, 000.00. But then again, for 1, 500 books anywhere and anytime. I guess that's not too much to pay after all.

I also found another reader, the Barnes & Noble Nook.

The Barnes & Noble Nook (Photo source)

7.7 x 4.9", 0.5" thick, 12.1 oz, stores up to 1, 500 books, with expandable microSD slot. The device also allows for audio books. The price: $259.

I guess Ebook readers run along that price. For more than a thousand books, I can honestly say either of the two are worth spending on.

But of course, $259 does not come easily. Thus, I have to work hard for it.

Christmas 2010 project #1: An Ebook reader. Fair, eh?

Mother, Fighter

I've been reading miofightscancer. It's a blog being maintained by a single mother whose son has leukemia. And to say that the blog is emanating so much love would be uttering a grave understatement.

It's Mio's first week in school, so says his mother. Just how proud she can get that her son is not only fighting against his sickness but also for his life to be as normal as possible. I almost cry every time I visit their page.

Theirs is a story of love that goes beyond being unconditional. Theirs is a love that goes against so much odds. Theirs is a life of battles and happy days.

For how long time would take until Mio gets completely healed, no one knows. But what I, and everyone, can be sure of is the fact that they would never be defeated.

Kudos to Mommy Jasmine. Keep fighting.

Would-be Summer

That season of adventures is fading, I know. And I've had but one getaway. Though I won't say FML to this sad fact, I still think I would have spent my summer in a more fun way. How?

Like this:

1. Parasailing. There's one in Cebu, in Mactan specifically and also one in Bora. That's a recreational activity done in the waters, where people are towed behind water vehicles and hoisted into the air as they gather speed.

2. Cliff Diving. Ariel's Point in Boracay is known for this. The activity is as complex and as simple as jumping off a cliff down to the waters below.

3. Mountain Climbing. Now, this I've had almost enough of just in my last semester in college. But still, I like mountain climbing simply because it's fun and the Philippines has a lot to offer in this regard.

There are many more to list, though: wall-climbing, bungee jumping, going on a road trip, and indulging in food trips. As life would have it, soon I would be able to do these.

And by soon, I mean next summer. Hopefully. :>

Temporarily Stuck

I miss school. If only because it provides me a sense of daily certainty. I wake up knowing, at the very least, what's supposed to happen for the day. I travel to a place not foreign to me. I go home with an inkling of what tomorrow's gonna be like.

I miss school because it's predictable and safe.

But now, that feeling of being in control of your daily life is temporarily sapped out of me. Now, I wake up to a seemingly uneventful day. But there is that thought of something that just might go out of line. Occasionally, I travel to places unknown to my direction-laden mind. But just as always, I go home not knowing what the next day would bring.

There is now that haunting feel of unpredictability.

This is life now, as I have it. And for that, I indulge in every little thing unexpected that is thrown my way.

However, as the title has it, I am inclined to thinking all of these are temporary. For who can tell what the future holds, that's not me. Definitely.