my dad once told me to choose the people i hang around with and sometimes i feel like i am failing him.

“Choose your friends by their character and your socks by their color. Choosing your socks by their character makes no sense, and choosing your friends by their color is unthinkable.”

I got this quote this morning from a friend via email. And it reminds me of my father. I remember what my Dad always used to tell me when I was a kid – “You need to choose your friends”. (I have to tell you, my dad was such a strict person, you could count his words and they were so firm it’s gonna scare you but he always talked to me in the most sweetest way I could remember)) He was very particular with the kids I used to hang around with. He would ask about the parents of those kids. I used to hate it because I’m an advocator of anti-discrimination. I thought he was just being so judgmental- and to please him, I would just play alone in my mother’s garden talking to my imagined friends. What I didn’t realize then was that he just cares a lot and that he just wanted to protect me from careless and ruthless people. And I miss him. I miss him every time I feel betrayed. Every time I encounter despicable people. Every time I feel like running back home.

Happy Birthday, Dad! i may sometimes be stupid and crazy but I am always keeping your words in my head.

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There’s something about Thursday

My Kuya invited me for a lunch date last Thursday. We haven’t seen each other since he got home last November 10 (I am guilty of being busy. Peace) so we spoiled ourselves with my favorite seafood cuisines at The Other Place. But what’s so surprising with Thursday lunch? It was the gift that he had for me. One of the items in my wish list – a laptop.

* aiza kept on stalking me with my laptop. hehe.

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i am thinking about goodbye

yesterday, i was browsing friendster and i got the chance to view his new uploaded picture. i know i don’t have any right to question that but somehow, there's a struck of sadness which i couldn't figure out. when i was walking back home, i was thinking of goodbye. i remember what aj told me. that i need to move on because the person i am thinking about day and night is never thinking about me. He has long moved out of my life and now doing a fine colorful world with his life while i am left in the flower covered abyss. Unfair. I am so unfair with myself. I remember how I crossed my line, forgetting about the reserved principle my parent taught me. I am still confused. I wanted to free myself and let go but I don’t want to be like some “sirang plaka” cyclically saying my goodbye. anyhows, I am still always looking forward for the time when the color of his shirt won’t bother me anymore.

And yeah, happy birthday to chipz aj. I’ll be blogging about his pre-celebration at Bellini’s once I get through this bothering contemplation. And to aiza last November 12 (I hope you enjoyed the birthday blue’s clues!!!) and, of course, thanks for treating me with my comfort food last night’s dinner. and for the novena that you lent me. I promise to give it back to you once everything is ok. thank yous!

and guess what's palying in my background. its over now by kyla. .. let me write some line..please dont ask me to pretend coz i know its over now.... . wait i need to turn it off now.

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Enrollment 101

For the first time in my life I experienced what it is like to be a real student –TO ENROLL. The dilemma of enrolling is one thing that I never experienced during my college life because my sister was always there for me to do all my school stuff.

Never did it crop up in my mind that one day I’ll be one of those students irritably complaining about how long the line for the accounting office is and another line for the cashier and admission. The sickening hustle of running from one building to another. Hay, I was never really bothered by those then.

And here goes my enrollment for my masteral last October 31, yep just right after the tear-jerking news about UP. From 8 am to lunchtime, we waited for our turn to submit our TOR and get an admission form (yes, four hours just to pass the TOR and get a white piece of paper that we need to fill out) to be submitted to another building which took us another two hours of waiting for the dean’s signature. and rest is part of history. We’re number 86 (my number) and 85 (aiza’s). Everyone was already complaining about the long and seems to be never moving line. But hey, I never complained. Not a single sigh. Actually I enjoyed every line. Every walks, but I have to admit that it is really super tiring. Actually, around quarter to 4, my officemates saw me and Aiza waiting along the caterpillar line for the accounting office, they were so worried that they collected our forms and did the job for us. Thank you Atcheng, Miss Rose, and Miss Myh (for the chippy) and Sir Meynard, of course to sir Magtibay. We won’t finish it on time without your help.

Btw, first Saturday in school was fun (that was last November 8) Aiza and I took cool pictures together with our new notebooks! Yeah, we missed school so bad.

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Beyond my poetic disgust to music

Why is the aching so damn bad? That was the only question circling around my mind last night. Not the thought of you. Not the broken idea of a perfect family. Not even the lack of world peace. And not even Obama’s victory. There’s nothing in my mind but the aching coming from an unknown source. I felt so empty. Or maybe, I exactly know where it’s coming from but I am too scared to concede with the thoughts.

I hugged mogmog (my comfort piggy toy) and played “make it real” in my play list. I’ve noticed that I’ve been playing it over and over for the past three days. A thing so weird of me (Seen and Ate Grace knows about this) because I hate listening to music. I hate them whenever they turn on the stereo. And I hate times like this – whenever my mind bugged me about playing overly emotional song – which my ears largely deride. It’s not really the music that I hate. Actually, am an admirer of good music. But it’s the effect of the music that I avoid. It makes me too emotional. It turns me into a sentimental fool humming with its loneliness.

And talking about music, it always reminds me of you, Marnee. I love you for introducing me to your breed of music. I still enjoy them but I have to pause for a time. I miss you and our conversation about life.

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to let go of something i've waited, not really for so long, but long enough to create waterworks

One virtue that life taught me is the patience of waiting. Sometimes I am not so patient but I always have my faith with me. Faith is one thing that keeps me going during downtimes.

And I thought when you want something so bad and you believe, the universe will work hard to give it to you, but again, it failed me. When I was in my high school, I dreamt about studying in UP. It was my dream school because it always creates a name of sheerness but for some reasons I don’t remember, I failed to submit my application form. When I finished my collegiate course, I planned to take speech pathology, my dream course, one prominent reason why I liked it so much is because it’s only offered in UP, but because I’m already working, and feel like I already need to earn my own money, I was left with no option but to set it aside.

When I start working as a guidance counselor that requires a master in guidance counseling, I immediately found another chance to study in UP. Aiza and I agreed to pass our application forms and all the requirements they were asking. And we patiently waited. All day. All night. Waiting for the result. I always checked my e-mails, everyday, in hopes they already sent their sycophantic e-mail. I was so damn worried when my phone crashed for they might already be trying to contact us and of course, all the mails coming, I always wished there’s one for me and Aiza.

But nothing. We received nothing.
But still, we patiently waited.

We even had our second thoughts about enrolling in PNU (it’s our second option in case, were not accepted in UP, whichi thought needless, because I wanted to hold onto my faith with UP, but since were both girl scouts, we decided to have Plan B) since they said that once you enroll, the tuition fee will no longer be refundable. But we tried to hold on with our fingers crossed to the last moment.

Come October 29. The day before the last enrollment for PNU, we’re both still undecided to totally enroll the money that we had in the school, we still had our “what if the very next day, UP send us a mail” in our mind. Can we still refund the money?

But everything was answered that night. Around quarter to 12, and my sister reminded me of setting the alarm that I realized I had my phone off. Soon as I turned it on, I received numbers of messages but what shocked and numbed me most was the one coming from Aiza.

Yes. We were waiting for nothing.

All these times, we were just waiting for nothing.

No. neither we failed nor were we accepted. Our papers were not even assessed because one of the staff failed to forward our papers in the admission office. The sad part is, we were not even given the chance.

And yes, I cried.

No. its no ones fault, actually. Aiza and I made our bestest effort. Kuya Allan, for all I know made his fair share to submit our papers right on time. I haven’t thanked him yet but I will once we meet personally. The guy who failed to forward our papers, but I don’t think I can blame him. Everyone commits error, anyways.

Maybe, it’s my own irresponsibility. I was always so dependent. And I am still although I always try to deny it. Maybe, I was really effortless and God needs to see more effort coming from me.

And the very next day, I woke up early to fix myself and met Aiza and the others as if nothing happened between midnight and day break; although I know that we were both sleepless and troubled. WE still headed to PNU to experience the very first enrollment dilemma in our life. I am gonna make a separate article for that.

In the mid of my conversation with Aiza yesterday, I asked, what’s with UP that we find it so hard to enter their gate?

But why didn’t the universe answered me after all? Why didn’t God move the universe so we can finally enter our dream school? I remember what I texted Aiza that night, “it’s ok maybe it’s not really meant for us; we’ll try harder next sem. Smile.”

We made our effort, but maybe it’s not really something that’s right for us and for God to protect us, He moved the universe to save us.

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