Saturday, December 31, 2011

2012

It happens every year.

My dad has this awesome idea that at the end of each year we're all supposed to say thanks for the things that happened. After giving thanks, he then proceeds to ask us our goals and our plans for the new year. He writes down these goals and plans in one of his notebooks. And then I think he just forgets about it because I've never heard him bring up our past goals. Or maybe he remembers then but just prays about them or whatever. One day, I shall ask him what he does with the list of goals we make every year.


This year, we sat down to dinner and my dad suddenly announced that we would be giving thanks right after. It was only December 30 and I was about to say that it was too early to give thanks and make plans. Truth is, I never make a plan for the new year. I just go with the flow and see where it takes me. So I wasn't able to invent any plan for my dad to write down. And giving thanks for the year that is coming to its end was the last thing I wanted to do. Mom wasn't really in the mood to talk and think. I guess when papa saw that no one was in the mood for his new year invented tradition, he got so annoyed that he just stormed out of the dinning room. I stared at mom and thought, 'Gee. This happens every year.' Mom was too tired to respond that she went upstairs and fell asleep before I could bug her about buying more candies to give random people. I lingered around the dinning table thinking about the year that was slowing slipping away.


Hilarious Christmas

It could have been better.

I don't want to say that this Christmas was a sad one. Neither do I want to say that this Christmas was a happy and an exciting one. It was somewhere in between. It was as if Christmas decided that it would fool the crap out of me and my family. Like it was playing tricks on us and we had no choice but to play along and endure the tricks that were being thrown at us. 


The day before Christmas, we found ourselves crying at church for Hannah Bea. She is my older sister who passed away. I thought that mom and papa were over it already. I guess it's true when people say that you never get over death, but you just try your best to forget about it ever happening. Although I never knew Hannah Bea, I felt extremely sad seeing my parents cry for her. I was thinking, 'If she didn't die, mom and papa wouldn't have had me. I'm only here because she's dead.' In a way, I am on this earth to try and replace the sadness my parents felt when they lost her. That thought just made me break down in tears.

Friday, December 30, 2011

Good Riddance 2011

Apparently. I am in the mood to answer this survey thingamajig.

I used to love doing surveys, but then I changed my mind because they started getting so boring and so stupid. But what the heck? It's almost the end of the year and I might as well do this to waste time and see what I remember about 2011. Also, it's a good way to make sure that I don't do the same stupid things in 2012. But I don't think I'll ever stop doing stupid things. 



Sunday, December 25, 2011

Put It In My Stocking

Me: 'Mom, I want blue hair dye for Christmas.'
Mom: 'We'll see.'
Me: 'Put it in my stocking.'
Mom: 'We'll see.'


Since I cannot shut up and I just gotta talk when strange things pop up in my head, I told mom to buy please buy me blue hair dye while we were at church yesterday. The sermon had just ended and I was dying to open my mouth and talk to anyone. Shutting up for more than an hour is so hard to do! And so I told mom that I wanted, yes, blue hair dye. I swear that the people who heard me voice my request to mom turned their heads and stared at me. Either they were annoyed that I was thinking about the gifts I wanted to receive. Or maybe they were shocked with my request. 

I'll Help You Feel Better

Cute little Téa took the photo.


'Tita Anna, I'll help you feel better about losing your best friend. I'll always give you hugs.'

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Not-Makati-Home


Conscience: 'How does it feel to get a gift from someone you've only known for approximately two months?'
Me: 'It feels weird.'
Conscience: 'Good weird? Or bad weird?'
Me: 'Good weird!


An undeserved gift. She gave a gift to a total stranger who just so happened to be me. We're classmates in three subjects, but I don't really know her well and she doesn't really know me also. I just know that she used to have a BlackBerry. I know that she has a  niece. She likes candies. And that's all I really know about her. But we sit next to each other four times a week, give each other yellow pad paper, borrow pens and laugh at hilarious professors.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Trust the Yaya

video

The assignment was to take pictures using long shutter speed. The easiest thing to do was to get a flashlight, go into a dark room and write something in the air. The hard thing was to take a picture of those cars and wait for the cars to become rays of light. I was panicking really bad because the assignment was due the next day and I hadn't gotten any pictures yet. I bugged my cousin, Corina, to come with me. Being the lovely cousin she has to be, she took a jeep just to see me in my messed up state. 


The first thing we did was to look for a fountain. I wanted some water shots for that fast shutter speed assignment. I'm pretty sure there's a fountain somewhere here in this part of the world. The fountain that Corina and I knew of was closed. We walked back to the mall and proceeded to stuff ourselves with fries and Coke Floats. While deciding what to do next, we bought a card for our grandfather's sister, talked about life and gossiped about some hilarious people.

Cramming At Its Best


Conscience: 'And we have done it again, Anna! Cramming at its best.'
Me: 'Good job!'
Conscience: 'I know right!'
Me: 'We're awesome!'

I had four papers to write. Two for history. One for visual arts. One for Theology. And what was I doing instead of writing them? I was watching The Walking Dead. My brother and my sister in law got me hooked on the series. In fact, I finished one season in three days. It so short that you can finish it in one if you have the time.  I thought that the series would be so scary. It's not. I even end up laughing when they die. Yes, I will now brainwash my friends to watch The Walking Dead with me.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Calling It Quits

Hilarious.

Kudos to you! You're getting so much undeserved flak for what happened a few days ago. I don't blame you for what you did though I got dragged into this pathetic situation. I don't necessarily agree with the means you used to get your message across, yet I do agree that it's time for people to wake up and see things without bias. Though the means was wrong, I admire you for standing for what you think is the truth. You never let other people bully you into saying what they want to hear or doing what they want you to do. You really do have a mind of your own. And you have reasons for everything that you do.

It saddens me that people do not believe you or they think that you are out to ruin someone's reputation. They interpret your care and concern as anger and judgment. It saddens me. But maybe they do that because you show that you care for a person by being angry when wrong befalls them. Your protective instincts tell you to care by being angry. I wish other people understood that. Less misunderstandings would happen. 


 I am not on your side nor do I claim that you know the whole truth. I just listen to what you have to say. When you vent, I calm you down. If you're angry, I try to help you process things. There are days when you are really happy and I am glad you have those days. I'd like you to know that you have never brain washed me into your own way of thinking. You have never forced your opinions on me. So do not be discouraged when people tell you that I am the way I am because of you. 
~

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Pambihira

Unbelievable.


They say that good things come to those who wait. It's hard enough to wait for a minute, but it's harder to wait for three years for something that never even took place. Anticipating it happening was the exciting part. Knowing that it would never happen was the painful phase. Hope kept that dream alive that maybe someday it would take place. Faith made that hope grow into desire that pushed it to happen in the fantasy world. 


The good part was that it was almost there. If there was a 'How To Do It' for that particular situation, step one was already accomplished. There was just ninety-nine more steps to go. The problem was that step one was so attractive. Progress didn't seem necessary. Staying there seemed to make everyone happy. It was satisfying. It was fulfilling. It was complete. It was enough. It was good enough. 


It's funny because it never progressed nor digressed in those three years. It was constant. It was sustained. It was unceasing. It just stayed the same. There came a time when it lacked something. It lacked the ninety-nine other things to call it what it should have been called. And since it lacked, it wasn't that good after all. Not good enough to be called good. It wasn't bad. It was lacking.

So what to do? Wait some more? Or just drop the whole idea of it materializing? Based on the statement, if a person waits, something good will happen. Does that mean that three years isn't long enough? Does that mean that a person should just keep on waiting and waiting for something good to fall out of the sky? Willingness to wait is not a problem. 

The question is, does one have assurance that if one waits something really good will fall into place? Or do people just fool themselves by saying that something good will happen so they forget about the time they're wasting waiting for it to come into being? Why can't anything good happen to those who are impatient? Why can't awesome things present themselves to those who have got ants in their pants? Why can't amazing things eventuate to those who are restless?


They say that good things must come to an end. Apparently, this good thing cannot be kept forever. It passes. It's given to a person for a specific time and is taken away so that the cycle starts all over again. Whatever this good thing may be, it has to be passed on from one person to another. Doesn't matter if it's good grades, a nice house, a new car, a friend, a guy or even something as stupid as a pen. If it's good, it won't stay with the person forever.


So why wait for something good to happen when it will just vanish once its time with the person is up? Why wait for this good event to take place when it will just end before the night is over? Why wait for the right person when it will end in tears? Why wait for a friend to apologize if the situation will eventually repeat itself again and again? Why wait for that awesome phone if it will not be awesome next year? 


An endless cycle it is. An endless cycle to trick people into waiting for something they will not really wait for if they knew that it would end too soon. But then since some good does occur for a certain duration of time, it leads people to think that this good is actually attainable. This good thing that lasts only for a certain period of time gives people false hope that maybe if a person tries harder at finding it next time, it just might lead to a permanent state of goodness. 


So what to do about this whole dilemma? Sit down on the toilet seat, apply nail polish, comfort yourself by singing Love Like Woe and flush the toilet a million times so that people think that you aren't crying inside. At the top of your lungs yell, 'Pambihira!' Get out of the toilet. Go into the room where all the riot is. Act like nothing happened. Smile like everything is fine. Laugh like there is no tomorrow. Talk as if you make some sense. Hide the tears because they really were never there to begin with.


And this is what happened last Sunday.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Random Hugs and Three Hours Talks

Conscience: 'Apparently you were in an awful mood last Sunday.'
Me: 'Anong paki mo? Seriously.'
Conscience: 'I was just asking. Wanted to know if I could help.'
Me: 'Help? No one can help. Everyone just makes it worse.'


Seriously. I hate it when people try to cheer me up because they know that I am feeling so bad. There is nothing you can do about my mood swings. There is nothing you can do to make me happy about the fact that someone is such a jerk. There is nothing you can do to make the person change his or her mind about this whole situation. And there is nothing you can do to make me tell myself to snap out of this mood. The only thing you can do is to shut up and never mention this to me again.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

When Do Bloomers Bloom?


Ada: 'When do bloomers bloom?'
Manang Rina: 'Huh? Bloomers are old fashion shorts.'
Ada: 'No, mom! Like the one is Leo the Late Bloomer.'
Me: 'Oh! The book!'

You were asking about bloomers. We were in the car on the way to do the grocery for the week. I'm guessing you read the book before we left for the mall. Or maybe you just remembered it. Am guessing that you really like the book because you were talking about it for a long time. It was nice how we got to have an awesome conversation out of that little story about a late bloomer. It's interesting how you think of things that other humans would just forget about.

Bloomers are some kind of old shorts. No, they aren't a type of flower. It's just a term they use for people who amaze the world with their talents at an early age, at a late age and sometimes never at all. If I remember correctly, Leo the Late Bloomer is about a boy who couldn't do anything right. And then one day, Leo was able to do everything right. He finally bloomed




Ada: 'I am an early bloomer.'
Me: 'How about Tea?'
Ada: 'Almost bloomer.'
Me: 'And Gusto?'
Ada: 'Late bloomer!'

Right now, you think that you are an early bloomer. You think this because you get perfect or almost perfect grades in all your subjects. You think this because you've got a voice that can sustain so many notes. You think this because you talk a mile a minute. Yeah, you sometimes talk in your sleep, too. You think this because you started dancing ballet and because you do well in Kumon. 


But, how do you know if someone has actually bloomed already? Can you say that a person has bloomed because he knows how to write at an early age? Or maybe because he can sing perfectly? I don't think you can tell if a person has bloomed or not until the person has undergone some sort of thing I'd like to call growing-up-pains-and-joys. So are you an early bloomer? I dunno. I think you are constantly blooming.

Ada: 'Is there such a thing as a never bloomer?'
Me: 'Uhm. Yeah. Maybe.'
Ada: 'Like who?'
Me: 'Maybe like the criminals?'

I had this friend. His name was Tonton. He used to live in the States. I think he got into fights and got in conflict with the law. He got sent back here to the Philippines. Tonton had a chance to clean up his act and start over. Instead, he got into drugs, he got into drinking and got into the wrong company. Eventually, he got sent to a mental institute. I think he was fine for a few months so the people let him go. He was free again! He was free again to go back to his drugs. He dd that. One day, he came to the house to ask for help. And I remember him looking so destitute. A few days later, he killed himself.


Maybe I lied a little. Maybe there is no such thing as a never bloomer. Maybe there are just bloomers who bloom for good and bloomers who bloom for bad. I think that my friend Tonton actually bloomed. Yet he bloomed in a way that was not acceptable to society. He bloomed and was good at taking drugs, drinking alcohol, sleeping with girls and stealing. So no, there is no such thing as a never bloomer. Just a person who blooms for the wrong reasons.


Ada: 'I don't want to be a late bloomer!'
Me: 'Why not?'
Ada: ''Cause it'll take too long.'
Me: 'Sometimes being a late bloomer is good.'

It won't kill you to be a late bloomer. Sure, you'll think that you're such a lose and people may tell you that you are one. But sometimes it does the person good. Another we-used-to-be-friends-when-we-were-kids-but-now-it's-just-awkward just bloomed recently.  All his life he failed. He would fail school. He would fail exams. He would fail at relationships. His mom would call my mom and spend hours on the phone crying 'cause she wasn't sure if her son, my we're-kinda-friends, was gonna be able to graduate high school. He got into college and flunked. He got into another college. Changed his course. And now, he's doing great as some kind of musician.


Thing is, what if he bloomed so early that he wouldn't know what to do with his gift? What if he bloomed but he was in the wrong course? What if he bloomed but his parents wouldn't be able to accept him? What if he bloomed but he wasn't ready to deal with his talents? Things happen at the right time, but we think that it's always the wrong time to bloom. Late bloomers aren't late bloomers at all. Early bloomers? No such thing as that. There are only bloomers. We all bloom.


Ada: 'I just don't want to be a late bloomer!'
Me: 'You know what, doesn't matter if you're an early bloomer, an on-time bloomer or a late bloomer.'
Ada: 'It does!'
Me: 'No, as long as you bloom, you'll be fine.'

Little girl, as long as you bloom, you're gonna be fine. 




Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Of Life and Crap


With just some minor corrections.

One day, I will have the guts to ask my Professor why she gave me a 1.7 (92) on this essay.

Life is uncertain. You get a good grade today. You fail the exam tomorrow. This morning you were able to cross the street without getting run over. Tonight you might get unlucky with a drunk driver. Next week you may be able to pay your debts. Next month you might have to borrow money again. This year you were able to get a promotion in your job. In the coming year you might be laid off. Nothing is sure in this life. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? 

It is a good thing. It is a good thing because knowing that life is uncertain makes a person want to live like today is their last day on earth. With that thought in mind, a student might strive hard to get a good mark on a report she has to do. A mother might forgive her child who has done her wrong. A father might spend some more time with his children. Knowing that life is uncertain motivates people to do their best today for they may never see tomorrow.

On the other hand, it is a bad thing. It is a bad thing because knowing that life is uncertain make a person resigned to the fact that nothing can be done about the situation the person finds himself in. He does not strive hard enough since he thinks that it is not worth it for he will eventually die in the end. A student will not even try to get a good mark on her report for she knows that the professor hates her anyway. A mother might just end up ignoring the child she cannot bring herself to love. A father might choose to spend more time at his work place for his children don't even know him. 

Knowing that life is uncertain should not deter a person from achieving his goals. A person should not allow the uncertainty of life to make him lax in his ability to succeed. He should not let death prevent him from trying his best to live his life to the fullest. One must live as though today were his last day on earth but wake up each day pushing himself further, closer to his end. 
No, I am not complaining about my grade. It's the opposite in fact. I am wondering why she even gave me that 1.7! Let's just say that I honestly think that this essay is crap. I did this in thirty minutes and was rushing to finish it. While I was doing it, I was watching TV, eating my lunch and text messaging my friends. I just wrote down anything that came to my mind. Come on, writing about life is freaking hard! 


Nah, am not showing off my grades to tell the world how awesome I am. I am just so thankful that even a piece of crap can be appreciated by someone. I am thankful that I got a 1.7 on this really lazy essay. I am thankful that even something as lame as this could get me a grade that I don't deserve. I am thankful that I am so favored. 


Thank you!

Thanksgiving 2011

This was supposed to be a Thanksgiving post.

I am thankful for family. This year, the word family became real to me. Before, family was just a word I'd throw around to describe the people I live with. Now, family is much more than that. So what does family mean to me? They are people who give up their comfort just to ensure that you will be comfortable. It is love without limit and without expectation. A place where you can sing at the top of your lungs in an off key voice and they will still listen to you. A home that is the breeding ground for peace, hope, joy and faith.


Aside from moving in with my brother, I've made an effort to get to know my cousins. This year, I've been chatting a lot with Corina. We used to talk about K-Pop a lot. And then somehow we found out that we have a lot in common. We have lost our best friends, we hate statistics and we like hot guys. I was able to visit my other cousin, Megan, when I was in Bacolod. She introduced me to a new series called Castle. Every Sunday, I get to see three more cousins. Although I don't get to talk to all of them, it's fun to see them every week.


I am thankful for faith. After being a Christian, then person-into-witchcraft, then atheist, I thought it was high time to finally make up my mind. Finally decided to be a person who has faith in a Supreme Being. No, I am not a Christian. No, I am not a Catholic. I am a person who believes in God and his word, a person who goes to church and a person who tries to live out her faith. Do not confine me to one religion. 

Maybe moving church has done me some good. I am now able to express my faith freely in any manner I choose. I am finally in an environment where they don't care about what color my hair is, how many piercings I have, what I wear and those annoying external things we should not base salvation on. Having someone to talk to about my faith makes it somehow easier to live it. Knowing that there are people who want me to explore my faith help me get into it.

I am thankful for friends. The other day, I was counting how many friends I have in school. I realized that I have around twenty five to thirty new friends. I also have those random people in class who just choose to talk to me when they feel like it. In church, there are times they'll just come up to me and make small talk. Those people who take time to just smile and ask me how I am are so awesome. They are kinda like angels on earth God sent for a specific reason.


And then I've got those really good friends who don't care if I'm like crap. Those people who drop everything when I tell them to go online and chat with me. They stay up late sometimes just to keep me company while I do my papers. That person who constantly bugged me until we became very good friends. That girl who I trust with my life. I cannot imagine my life without those people. 


I am thankful for fun! Life can get so stressful and so boring. I sometimes need fun things to get my life going. Fun things like collecting Starbucks stickers, watching a movie, buying lots of books, going to the park, eating chocolate cake, painting my nails, drinking Coke, making plans and singing made up songs. I made up my mind a few months ago not to take life too seriously. Don't study too much. Get rid of activities that are non-sense. Just focus on the important things. And then add some fun into that. 

Not Anymore


Response to Pliant Like the Bamboo by I.V. Mallari.

Prof: 'There's also another very good essay from last week (November 22, 2011).'
Me: *That isn't me.*
Prof: 'Anna Francheska.'
Me: *Told you.*
Prof: 'Lete?'
Me: 'Here, Miss!'
The Filipino was like a bamboo tree.

He knew that he was not strong enough to fight for himself. The Filipino yielded. He gave in to the culture, to the ideas, to the religion and to almost everything that others had to offer. The Filipino did this in order to survive. He did this to ensure that there would be a future to offer the ones who would come after him. 

Yet the Filipino has had enough. When the country's own president stole the wealth of the Filipino people, they took their complaints to the streets and stood their ground until he left Malacanang Palace. Edsa Two took place. And the voice of the Filipinos were once again heard. Erap pleaded for sympathy and mercy from the masses, yet they imprisoned him. 


The Filipino people thought they were in luck when Gloria Macapagal Arroyo took the place of a thief. Little did they know that she too would steal their wealth, cheat during elections and bring shame to the Filipino people.


Again, the Filipino people united and made their voice heard when they called on the son of Cory Aquino to run for the presidency. When he won, the Filipinos were relieved. The Filipinos knew that President Noynoy Aquino would not let the Philippines be bullied anymore.


China has been threatening the Philippines. They want to gain control of islands that belong to the Filipinos. No, the Filipino is seeing to it that that will never happen. The Filipinos are learning to say no to a nation who were the first to occupy the Philippines. They are learning to assert their rights even if they do not outnumber the Chinese people.


A few days ago, the Filipino people showed that they would not adapt to the lifestyle of corruption. Though ex president Gloria Arroyo says that she needs to seek medical assistance in another country, the Filipinos have banned her from leaving. They have filed charges against her and the people who live and breathe corruption.


The Filipinos have shown the world that they are not giving in. They have done so by winning boxing matches, by producing wonderful singers, by having new writers and even by exporting their produce to other countries. Heck, they might even win their first Oscar this year. The Filipinos have stood their ground by learning how to claim what is theirs, by arresting those who have done the country wrong and by saying no to those who want to brainwash them again. Now, the Filipino will not let themselves be bullied by another country or even by their fellow countrymen.


The Filipino was not strong enough to fight for himself. He was like a bamboo tree. But not anymore.


And this got me a 1.2 (98) in creative writing. Thank God.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Pretending To Be A Superhero

Conscience: 'I thought you wanted to do this at the end of each week?'
Me: 'I did.'
Conscience: 'Well?'
Me: 'Is this your blog?'

I really wanted to do this at the end of the week. The thing is, sleeping and shopping are more exciting things to do than sitting down in front of the laptop to do this entry. I've got all the time in the world to actually do this but I'm never in the mood to sit down and type it out. Once I am in front of my laptop, I end up chatting with my friends, going on Twitter, downloading movies and new episodes and taking vain pictures of me and the kids. Well, no. The kids aren't vain. They're just naturally cute.


Conscience: 'And you're cramming again.'
Me: 'When I go to my other home on weekends, all I do is spoil myself.'
Conscience: 'Set aside time.'
Me: 'Easier said than done.'
During the weekend, I did some Christmas shopping. I hate not doing Christmas shopping. To be honest, I look forward to Christmas every year. It's like the highlight of my year. I love buying gifts for people and I love getting things in return. For me, the best thing about shopping for friends is thinking about what they want. The hardest part about giving gifts is not knowing who you won't give gifts to. The mall mom and I went to last Saturday was full of people. Funny thing was that the moms were the ones pushing and shoving their way through the crowds. The dad were so chill. I think they were so bored. And the kids? The kids wanted to buy everything they saw. I wanted to buy everything I saw.

Conscience: 'Have you gotten anything for Ada, Tea and Gusto?'
Me: 'Yeah.'
Conscience: 'You know their birthdays?'
Me: 'Kinda.'


I have these really cute Christmas stockings for them. I'll be hanging them out on December 1. And then I might just fill them up with little goodies they might enjoy. Spoil them a little bit. Give them some candy and chocolates and Crayolas. Tea has been bugging me to give her a birthday gift. I was like, 'Your birthday is still next year!' Still, she went on and on until I promised to write her birthday down on my calendar. And then after bugging me for a birthday gift, she goes, 'But Christmas comes first. So you give me my first gift then.' I can't wait for her to be older when I can take her to the movies or something.


Conscience: So how was your week?
Me: 'Terribly exciting!'
Conscience: 'Anything great happened?'
Me: 'Gusto got his stitches out!'

I am so proud of that kid! I was telling Ada and Tea that when I was a kid, my goal in life was to get stitches and a cast. I thought it was pretty neat to have a few stitches and to break a leg or an arm. Later on, when I got my wisdom teeth out, I realized that stitches weren't such a big thing. They were cool when they were on, but it hurt when they removed it. And so, I am so proud of Gusto! Yeah, he cried when the doctor was taking the stitches out. But he was so chill about it. He had stitches and kept wanting to go to the park. Oh yeah, he got the stitches because he was pretending to be a superhero.


Conscience: 'What else did you do?'
Me: 'Well, I went with the kids to the book fair!'
Conscience: 'That's nice.'
Me: 'I also kinda went to the grade school and high school fair.'


Even though the kids and I go to the same school, college students don't really care about the rest of the school. So when I visited the fair with the kids, they were so happy. Ada showed me around her part of the school. She brought me to her classroom. She dragged me to Tea's classroom. I wished that I was still in pre-school! They have an easy life. Last Friday, we all went to the fair. Even mom. I think mom enjoyed herself. Duh.




Conscience: 'So how come you're cramming all your assignments and projects?'
Me: 'I was busy reading.'
Conscience: 'Tsk tsk tsk.'
Me: 'Whatever.'


Finally got my hands on Inheritance by Christopher Paolini. If you've waited for the series to end since you were like thirteen years old, you're gonna do anything you can to finish reading the last book as soon as possible. Finishing the Inheritance cycle was and will always be more important than some stupid subject that has nothing to do with your course.


Conscience: 'And Percy Jackson?'
Me: 'And Percy Jackson.'
Conscience: 'What got you into that?'
Me: 'Ada.'


Ada told me that she watched the movie. I remembered that I stole a Percy Jackson book before. I'm pretty proud of that! And so when we went to the book fair, Manang Rina told me I could get a book. I got the first book of Percy Jackson. I love it.


Conscience: 'What's up with the Angry Birds?'
Me: 'They're cute!'
Conscience: 'I thought you hated them?'
Me: 'They light up.'


Seriously. Things that light up are so adorable. Don't care if it's Angry Birds. I just find it cool.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Dead Leaves, Twigs and Other Things

Ada brought home a dead leaf.

A few days ago, Ada brought home a dead leaf. A few days before that, she brought home a twig. Seems to me that she brings home anything she finds on the road on the way back from school. She likes picking things up and planning what to do with them. She wanted to dry the dead leaves. I told her that I've got a flower and leaf press at my other house. I'd bring it for her next week. Ada smiled and skipped happily away. 


The yayas don't seem to get why Ada loves picking up stuff from the road and bringing them home. For the yayas, a dead leaf or a twig is just kalat. Basura. Another piece of garbage to throw away. But why did Ada bring it home? For Ada, a dead leaf had to be brought home because she wanted to dry it and preserve it. A twig had to be picked up from the road because it looked pretty.

I almost asked Ada, 'Why are you bring those things home?' She has a lot of toys. She has a lot of books. She can watch TV. So why bring home those things that might have germs and are things that no one really wants? And then I remembered that when I was a kid, I brought home crazier things. I would go on walks and bring home baby frogs, rusty Coke cans, dirty slippers and lots of trash.

And then I recalled something Roald Dahl said. I can't find the exact quote. But it was something like, 'To understand kids, you got to spend a week on your knees and see things from their point of view.' I remember thinking when I was eight years old  that it was such a silly quote. I think that I kinda understand the quote now.


Ada is much shorter than me since she's only six years old. She's able to see things on the road better than a teenager like me. She still thinks that cars and trucks are scary. Of course, she's so small. I'm sure that the cars and trucks look so huge to her. She's nearer the ground. That must be why she finds dead leaves and twigs more interesting than a pretty gate or a fancy car that I try to show her.


If the ground was life and the things on it were events that should not be ignored, I sure have missed out on a lot of things. Instead of looking down to see the details, I've been looking up to see the bigger picture. Everyone tells you to look at life from a different perspective; from the bigger picture. That's the most common perspective. The bigger picture. Garbage.


Maybe you gotta look at life's details to better appreciate the bigger picture. You gotta stop to pick up dead leaves and twigs along the way to remind you to check out the details sometimes. Sometimes we get so caught up with the final product we forget about the process to get there. We get so caught up with life that we forget to live it. We tend to just keep walking on and on. We just want to get to the end. 


Now, I look at the ground when I walk.







Sunday, November 20, 2011

Just Saying

Conscience: 'How have you been?'
Me: 'Fine.'
Conscience: 'How's school?'
Me: 'Fine.'
Conscience: 'Really.'
Me: ' Really.'




This is my third week in school.  Doesn't take up much of my time. In fact, I feel like I'm not studying at all. High school was even more stressful than this. I have time to visit the park, read really thick books, run around in the malls, watch Modern Family, eat ice cream and blow plastic balloons. I get to sleep for about six to eight hours every night. Sometimes though I wake up with a headache. Am not used to getting too much sleep. But I'm loving it!


Conscience: 'Again. How's school?'
Me: 'I'm loving it!'
Conscience: 'I thought you hate school?'
Me: 'I hate exams, quizzes, homework, projects, people, professors and stuff like that.'


School is lovely. And yes, most of the professors are okay. I only dislike one professor. My schedule isn't that bad either. Mondays and Fridays are my full days when I have about four classes. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I only have one class. And on Wednesdays I've got two classes. Saturday class? Nope. I don't have that. I go home for lunch every day 'cause I feel like it. I can't take the smell of the canteen!


Conscience: 'I thought you didn't like that school?'
Me: 'I take that back.'
Conscience: 'You love it now?'
Me: 'I never said that.'
I didn't like the school before 'cause I thought that the people would be snobs. Actually, they're very nice and simple people. I guess that others think that the people in my school are snobs because they speak English, they are proud of their school, they like looking fashionable and they excel. But are they snobs? No. If they know that you're new, they actually go out of their way to show you to your classes, to tour you around the area, to make small talk with you and to make sure that you're doing okay.
Conscience: 'So you live where?'
Me: 'I live with my brother and my sister in law. And Ada, Tea, and Gusto.'
Conscience: 'What a way to answer a question!'
Me: 'At least you got an answer!'
Yes, I kinda like have two homes now. During the week, I stay with my brother and his family. When the weekend comes, I go home to my mom. The only thing I hate about living in two houses is the fact that I have to pack my bags every Sunday and unpack them every Friday. Also, when I'm home with mom, I have to make a list of everything I think I'll need when I'm at my brother's house. Sucks. But I manage.

Conscience: 'You love the kids.'
Me: 'I adore them.'
Conscience: 'They don't drive you insane?'
Me: 'Not really.'


Getting used to having three kids around wasn't that hard.  I'm an only kid (with two ancient brothers). At home with mom, I'm used to having my own room, not caring about others, leaving my things everywhere and just not having others around. Let's just say that I'm used to thinking about myself only. But when you've got one kid tickling you, another telling you a story and one who just wants to hug you, you can't just ignore them. You've got to somehow be interested in their lives. You're forced to care for them. It's not that hard. It's easy to love the kids because they love me too.


Conscience: 'I heard you quit Kumon.'
Me: 'Well, I already am a Kumon complete in maths and reading.'
Conscience: 'So...'
Me: 'I was taking Level X.'


I was taking an extra level to prove to the world how smart I actually am. Seriously.  I stopped because I am tired of math. And also because I hate homework.


Conscience: 'You didn't do your homework for tomorrow.'
Me: 'So?'
Conscience: 'Just saying.'
Me: 'Okay.'

Steve Jobs didn't finish college.









Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A Young Adult


Ada: 'How old are you?'
Me: 'Nineteen.'
Ada: 'How come you have nail polish?'
Me: 'Because...'
Ada: 'Because you're a young adult?'

I stared at you for a long time.

Erik Erikson stated that a young adult is a person who is between the age of twenty to forty. An adolescent person however, is between the age of thirteen and nineteen. Google says that opinions and definitions of the term young adult may vary. Based on the definition of Erik Erikson, I am not a young adult yet. I still have ten months to go before I can actually say that I am a young adult. Sorry about that. Assuming that I am a young adult by your standards, I'll just go on and tell you what being a young adult may mean. 

It means going to college. College is like why-on-earth-am-I-here-can't-I-just-skip-to-the-part-where-I-graduate-and-make-the-most-out-of-life?! Half of college is spent wondering why you need those general subjects that you've been having since the day your parents enrolled you in preschool. Most of the time adults will tell you that you need those general subjects because blah blah blah. I mute them when they come up with reasons. The other half of college is spent being stressed out with those requirements that just have to be done.


It means learning to cram. You'll find that it's so much better to sleep when you have a report to do. You might find a boring show so interesting when you have to review for that history exam. You'll find ways to waste your time on purpose just because you don't want to do a certain requirement for a class. Because of that, you'll end up doing a ten page paper in an hour and praying to God that your professor finds it in his heart to pass you in his subject. You need to know how to cram 'cause it'll teach you not to do it again you might just be doing it for many more years.


It means not fixing your room. Unless you're a person who cannot stand mess. You'll find an excuse to leave everything around and not in their proper place. You'll leave your books on the floor, clothes on the bed, papers flying around and you just might find a way to sneak food in without anyone knowing. You might make up excuses like, 'Mom, I get asthma when I clean my room.' Or maybe you might tell the maid, 'I can't clean my room 'cause I'm too tired and my head hurts.' You know, fix your room. You just might find something you need. Or might end up playing some music and dancing and singing all over the place.

It means telling your friends that you're fat and that you're going on a diet. You'll be on that diet of yours for a few days and then you'll give up. Lemme tell you though that you aren't fat. You don't need to go on diets. You don't need to look like a Barbie doll. Heck, no one should look like a Barbie doll! When you start thinking that you're fat, just remember that food is yummy and you will not be able to survive without your favorite food that apparently contains so many calories. 


It means doing something stupid. For me this meant getting five piercings. It also meant dying my hair and getting addicted to hair color. For others, it means getting that I-thought-it-looked-cool-when-I-was-young tattoo. Trust me. Everyone does something so stupid when they're a young adult. Some drink too much and miss exams. Others talk back at teachers and fail a subject or two. Don't be sad if you've done something stupid. You can't undo the past. All you can do is move on and try your best to make do with the present.


It means not taking your family for granted. Sure, you might get into bad fights with your parents or with your siblings, but you'll learn to love them no matter what. You'll need to make time for them even if you've got four papers due on Monday, but just have to go to a family reunion the day before. You'll realize that they're always going to be there for you when you feel like your world is coming to an end. When you feel like crap, they'll cheer you up. Of course, it is their responsibility to say, 'I told you so!' They're the only ones who will love you without expecting anything in return.

It means believing your faith. You'll hear a load of crap about the faith you believe in. People will try to get you out of it. Others may help you grow in it. Just remember that you have to decide for yourself what to believe and what not to believe. Listen to the opinion of other people, but don't let their opinion cause you not to believe in anything.


It means being yourself. A lot of times, young adults let others dictate how they should behave, dress, talk, etc. Some get lured into the wrong group of friends who talk them into being someone they're not. Please don't let anyone tell you who to be and who not to be. Sometimes being yourself means getting into trouble. Sometimes it means standing up for what you believe in. Sometimes it means taking the side of the person who was right all along. Sometimes it means losing a friend. It means not being scared to be you. 










Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Mac

Conscience: 'You're buying a new Mac that costs about 60k.
Me: 'And your point?'
Conscience: 'WOW.' 

I'm buying it. Not my mom. Not my dad. Me.  Sure, that means not being able to get a new camera. And yeah, that means being poor for so many years. But hell, I need a laptop to survive. My excuse? I need it for my course in college.


Conscience: 'Why not have fun with your MacBook?'
Me: 'It's no fun anymore.'
Conscience: 'iPad 2?'
Me: 'You're kidding, right?'

My MacBook is dead.  Well, it's not really dead dead. I'm just too lazy to have it fixed Thought of getting myself an iPad 2 since it's a lot cheaper. But it doesn't have iMovie. Nah, it has iMovie. It doesn't have all the features of iMovie. And I do need all the features of iMovie. Another thing is that it has almost zero memory. How on earth will I be able to download and store all the things I download? Sorry, I'll spend a lot to be able to download and watch How I Met Your Mother and Modern family.


Conscience: 'Get something that isn't Mac.'
Me: 'I'd rather not buy anything at all.'
Conscience: 'It's cheaper.'
Me: 'Is it as cool as a Mac?'
Conscience: 'Uhm...'

My brother actually said, 'Get a new Mac. Or get something cheaper, but isn't as cool.'


Conscience: 'Why a Mac?'
Me: 'I'm used to it already.'
Conscience: 'Learn to use not-a-Mac.'
Me: 'Ugh.'


I can't even use my parents' laptops. I used to be an expert with Windows. Seriously. But now, I can't even find their files on their laptops. When they need help, I actually use Google to "help them."


Conscience: 'What's your take on, "My Mac is two years old and it died on me. I wanted it to last for ten years!'"
Me: 'Who would want a Mac to last for ten years?!'
Conscience: 'It's expensive.'
Me: 'You want old technology on your Mac for ten years?'
Conscience: 'Well. . .'

MACS DIE.  GADGETS DIE. I don't get people who blame the brand for the death of their gadgets.


Conscience: 'What is so great about a Mac?'
Me: 'What isn't great about a Mac?'

Seriously. 


Me: 'Anything else you want to say?'
Conscience: 'Rich kid.'
Me: 'Thank you.'
Conscience: 'WTF.'

I paid for it myself! 


Conscience: 'Spoiled brat.'

Yes, I am.



Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I Don't Do Drama

I really don't.

I wish I had worn my shirt that says, 'I don't do drama.' Usually when I use that shirt, people stop and read it. After they read it, they stare at me. If I had used that shirt today, it would have been the perfect tool to be able to tell a person off without exactly saying anything to the person. I would have just had to shove the shirt in front of her face to make sure that she got the message. What exactly is making me so annoyed? A woman and her words.


The church I go to has taught me how to kneel for worship before God. I used to hate kneeling. I never really did it before. Yet when I moved to this church I am now in, the pastor, who happens to be my uncle, told me that kneeling is the best position to worship God. I tried it once and never regretted it. Since that time, it has become my routine to really kneel while giving praise and thanks to God. Almost everyone in church does it so I am rather used to seeing people kneel and am also used to kneeling.


My parents have been attending a workshop these past few days. Yesterday, I didn't join their morning worship. I stayed outside and played games on the laptop. This morning, I was also going to do the same thing. But a person invited me to attend the worship. I had no choice but to attend. Don't get me wrong. I like attending worship. I just didn't think that I would be allowed to attend their worship. 


The worship leader kept on singing slow songs. I sang along during the first song. I didn't really know the lyrics so I just invented some of the words. The first song finished and the second song started. I had found a lyric sheet. So I sang along and I really had the urge to kneel. So I did. I knelt down and put the lyric sheet on the floor. I was there worshiping and praising and just having a thankful heart. The song ended. I stood up. And then this woman comes to me and puts her hands around me. 


What was this woman doing? She was kinda hugging me but it was an uncomfortable hug. I thought that she was praying for me. Maybe she was. But she was (as the Christians call it) speaking in tongues. Are you kidding me?! I kept on trying to get her to stop hugging me. She could have just extended her hand towards me so that she wouldn't have to touch me. After a few minutes, she began praying for me in English. She said something like, 'You don't need to impress God.' Me? Impressing God?


The tears began to fall. No, I wasn't crying because what she said had touched me or because what she said had comforted me. I was crying because I was so damn hurt by what she had told me. If she only knew that if I wanted to impress God I wouldn't have even knelt down in the first place. I would have just stood there and made fun of everyone in that room. Since the woman noticed that I was crying, she shook me and tried to get me 'slain.' I wasn't about ready to get slain when she just hurt me by her really weird words.


The woman opened her mouth to speak again. 'You don't have to be like your parents because you are a different person,' she said. I wanted to tell her something like, 'You know what, you are just really creeping me out. Please just shut the hell up because you aren't making any sense to me at all.' It's easy to assume that I am trying to be like my dad and my mom. But if you know me well enough, you'd also know that I am a totally different person from my parents. Sure, I am also into the arts and education. Yet I am not trying to be like them. I am trying to learn from them and help them in their many projects. Why? Because I want to. 


Let's just say that right now I am really turned off with Christians. The freaking sh*t. There is no right or wrong way to worship. No one else can judge a person's heart except God. If the person really is just kneeling to impress God or people, that's the person's problem. Lots of people think that they have heard from God and that God told them to tell this to some other person. Are you sure about that? You might just be using God's name as an excuse to tell someone what you think about them. People who do that just suck. They really do.


I do not do drama before God.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

God and Hugs

Do you believe all the crap about God, the church and his people?
Two Sundays ago, a woman claimed that God told her to hug me. About an hour before she hugged me, I was intently listening to the speaker at Community of Faith something Church. (Yeah, I do not know the name of the church.) As usual, I was sitting cross legged on a chair while eating my breakfast from my lunchbox. I glanced around me once or twice just to check of there were people I knew in the crowd. Each time I glanced around, there was this woman who I would catch staring at me. I would have tried to stare her down if only my neck wouldn't ache afterwards. At first, I thought that it was a coincidence. But when I glanced around a second and a third time, the woman was staring at me.


Was it because of my red hair? Or my piercings? Or the way I sat down? Or because I dress like trash? Or maybe because I eat breakfast in church every Sunday? I had all these made up explanations for why she was staring at me. As soon as the service ended, she approached my dad. Oh, so she knew my dad! I must have looked so rude by staring at her the whole time she was talking to my dad. And then, my dad introduced me to the woman. 'Oh, So and So. This is my daughter, Anna,' my dad said. The woman said something like, 'Oh. Really? I was staring at her the whole time. I have to tell her something.'


My dad left and I was like what the f. I do know that God speaks to people. But God had something for me and he just had to tell it to this girl? Come on. The woman inched closer to me and said, 'God told me to hug you.' Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me? My own family knows that I am not into hugging or putting my body near another person's body. I hate anything that has to do with physical touch or contact or whatever you want to call it. But no, this wasn't gonna be a hug from a person. This was a hug from God. 


I leaned in and let the woman hug me. Who the freak am I kidding, I thought. Hug from God? What kind of crap is that? But I figured that if I went along with it, the hug would be over in a few seconds. Besides, if I said no to the hug, I'd get a long sermon from my parents afterwards. I must have looked so confused and so puzzled concerning the hug. And yet, a few seconds before the hug was over, I found myself tearing up.

For me, the hug represented three things in my life.

  • God - It was something I had to do in order to come to terms with my faith in God. I am positive that God told the woman to hug me and test me to see if I would allow her near me. God wanted to know if I was the person I claimed to be. I'm sure God was like, 'This Anna says that she believes in me, but she hates people who touch her. Let's see if she how much she really loves me.' By letting this unknown woman hug me, I was telling God that I did in fact believe in him even though he may be so strange at times.
  • The Church - Ever since I was a kid, I've hated church. Doesn't matter what church it was, I just really didn't like church. Up to now, it's a struggle. Just moved to a new church and even though the people there are really awesome, I just can't trust them right away. It's hard. And yet there I was, in the middle of the sanctuary, receiving a hug from a woman. They saw me tear up. They saw me open up myself to a stranger. Yeah, I am opening up myself to being a part of a church.
  • His People - Just like church, I had issues with religious people. I doubt many of them. I have been rude to a number of pastors in the past. I have made sure never to trust them or even commend them for their preachings. I have questioned everything those said people of God do and are still doing. I told myself that by getting to know people in church, I am making myself vulnerable. I made myself so vulnerable by accepting the hug. And then after hugging that woman, I asked someone to disciple me. It's time to start trusting the people who make church bearable. 
'And yeah, yeah, God is great. And yeah, yeah, God is good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. '

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

A Misplaced Glass and Laziness

How lazy can people get?

I was at the gym the other day doing my usual workout. After spending thirty minutes on the bike, I ran to the soda counter. Got some soda and stood around while sipping my drink. There's a tray for all the used glasses and cups. People are expected to place their used glasses and cups in the tray and not around it. I was standing a few feet away from the tray getting ready to put my used glass in it when a lady came and blocked my way. If that wasn't bad enough already, she didn't even put her used glass in the tray. She ran off while leaving her used glass a few inches from the tray. Being a stickler for rules, I placed the woman's used glass in the tray before putting my glass in.

This isn't a post to rant about how I had to put the woman's used glass in the tray and wasted a few seconds of my time doing something another person should have done instead. It isn't a rant about what she should have done and what I shouldn't have done for her. I guess this is a rant about what I realized laziness is all about. Trust me, we've all been lazy at least once in our life.

Laziness is a habit. And like all habits, it is formed over a period of time. You can't just wake up one day and decide to be lazy. You start being lazy in the small things and end up being lazy in the big things later on. The bad thing is that you have no idea that you're becoming lazy already. The person who is lazy just thinks that it's natural or that it's alright to be lazy.

Laziness is a mindset. Pwede na yan is the motto of those who are lazy. You see this in students who don't want to do their best. They settle for the passing score instead of aiming high. A maid might say pwede na yan when asked to sweep the floor, but is too lazy to sweep under the furniture. An employee may say pwede na yan when cramming a report and ending up with a crappy PowerPoint presentation. A boss may say pwede na yan when too tired to think. Everyone has said pwede na yan because it is the easiest thing to do and it does not require the person to think of a way to creatively solve the problem at hand.

Laziness is an attitude. An attitude is manner, disposition, feeling, position, etc., with regard to a person or thing; tendency or orientation, especially of the mind: a negative attitude; group attitudes. People say that laziness is an attitude problem. Like all problems, there's a solution to it. Just because one is lazy doesn't mean that the person has to stay that way forever. If the person really wants to get out of being lazy, the person will find a way to do it.

Laziness is sin. Forget about laziness being a habit, a mindset or an attitude. Laziness is sin. I guess when I realized that laziness is sin, that was the only time I made up my mind to get out of it. Just like most sins, laziness is fun. It's fun to just sit around all day doing nothing. Being in sin is easy. Getting out of it and staying out of it is so hard.

So starting today tomorrow I will not be lazy.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Just Between the Person and Me

My parents think this is what will happen tomorrow.

Person: 'So, tell me something about yourself.'
Me: 'I'm Anna. I'm nineteen. I collect Mr. Potato Heads. I eat Nutella.'

And instead of telling the person those important facts, I'll end up telling the person the boring details about myself. I'll tell them that I like Coke and McDo. Maybe I'd let it slip that I drink too much coffee and that I'm a trying hard vegetarian. Or maybe I'll end up telling them that I just watched Glee the movie thingamajig and I have an awful crush on Blaine.


Person: 'Do you enjoy school?'
Me: 'Enjoy school? Are you kidding me?!'

I hate it. Doesn't matter what school I'm in. I just hate school. Doesn't matter if it's regular school or home school. I still hate it. No, I love learning. I love getting cool and amazing grades. Homework actually interests me. Exams make me push myself to my limits. But there's this thing called I-hate-school-because-it's-school. I can't really explain it altogether. I just know that there's a huge part of me that hates school because it's in the morning.


Person: 'Why are you in this school?'
Me: 'Let's just say that this is my dream school.'


Truth? My grandmother went to this school. My aunts went to this school. My mom went to this school. My mom's grandchildren go to this school. This is why I was made to go to this school. It cannot be that my mom's only daughter won't be a graduate of this school. That would just bring shame to my mom. I think she wouldn't allow me back home if I didn't make it in this school. Did I want to go to this school? I wanted to go to this school to shut my mom up and make her proud. Do I love this school? We'll see about that.


Person: 'This is a Catholic school.'
Me: 'That is so cool!'


Seriously, I don't really care. The school can be Catholic, Christian, Muslim or whatever kind of religion there is out there and I will not care. I do however believe that there is a God. I do believe in that God. I have faith. I don't have a religion. I read the Bible. I pray. I worship. I praise. I do so many other things that people associate with the Catholic religion or the Christian religion. I am not a Catholic. I am not a Christian. I just have faith. I believe what there is to believe. I reject whatever goes against the Bible. I respect people who have a religion. I do not try to get people to think the way I think about religion and faith. If they ask, I'll tell them. If they don't, I shut up.


Person: 'Why are you in mass communication?'
Me: '*insert some amazing made up reason here*'


Gusto ko eh! This is what I want. How on earth do you actually explain why you like something? Yeah, don't give me those crap answers saying that you can explain it. I know you can. I'm just not good at explaining why I want mass communication. I've always known that I'd either end up as a teacher or as a person with a degree in mass communication major in something epic. Teacher? My mom is a teacher. My dad is a director and a writer. Since I hate maths (yet get good grades in that subject), I just opted to get mass communications. Really, if I had known that I like philosophy, I'd take that up instead.


Person: 'What are your goals in life?'
Me: 'World peace. Clean air. Happiness. Love. Free WiFi for everyone!'

Free WiFi for everyone. I find it stupid when people ask me this question. I do have goals. I have crazy goals. For example, I want to own a bookstore and a coffee shop. But goals? As in goals like adult goals? You've got to be kidding me! I just go with the flow. If I told you that my goal in life is just to have fun, live my faith and help people, you'd think I'm weird. Normal people want to make money, be famous and have power. I don't want those things. So yes, my goal in life is to have fun and be carefree. I'd like to be able to live my faith in a way that brings glory to my Maker. I'd have fun and live my faith by helping others.  Lame? I don't think so.


Person: 'I'm trying to figure out why you have red hair.'
Me: 'You're telling me you hate it. You want me to dye it black.'


The red hair does not belong to this story. It belongs to some other story. But I will tell you why it's red not why I wanted it to be red. My friends put the dye on my hair and then the car came to pick me up. Instead of going home directly, my mom stopped at Yellow Cab to buy some dinner for herself. The supposedly fifteen minute drive home became a thirty minute drive. Rather, it was still a fifteen minute drive home, but we had to wait another fifteen minutes for the food. In short, I left the dye on my hair for too long. I don't really care that it's red. A lot of people have come up to me to say it's good. This guy I like even went up to me last Sunday and said, 'I like your hair! Keep it that way.'


Person: 'You have five piercings.'
Me: 'I don't have a tattoo.'


Yet. 


Person: 'Is there anything else you want to say?'
Me: 'Thanks. Bye! I'm hungry.'







Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Earphones and Fishes

I take my earphones off to give my ears some sort of needed rest.

My parents tell me that I'm ruining my ears by listening to music that is directly blasted into these little holes on the side of my head. Honestly, I'd rather ruin my ears than hear what the world has to say about life. I usually find myself feeding music into my ears when I'm in the car heading for somewhere. I like turning the volume really high and ignoring the noise that the world has to offer. 

This afternoon, my parents decided to do some grocery shopping. I decided to go along with them. Grabbed my earphones and jumped into the car. As soon as I sat down, I played some music. In my head, I was singing along to the song Love Like Woe but you wouldn't know that 'cause my face told everyone that I was bored with life. I saw my parents talking. I guessed that they were discussing something that had to do with the upcoming trip to the province. I'm not interested in that kind of talk.


Mom made a gesture that meant  please-take-your-earphones-off-we're-trying-to-have-a-conversation. Against my wishes, I pulled my earphones out of my ears and paused the song that was playing. Oh yeah, they were talking about the trip to the province. All mom could think of saying was, 'Why do you always listen to music in the car?' I wasn't in the mood to explain so I just shrugged my shoulders and looked out the window.


They were talking about the trip to the province again. I tried sounding interested in their conversation. Instead of getting my parents to answer my questions about the trip, I think I just annoyed them with my pretend interest in their conversation. I think that's one of my gifts. I get people so annoyed with me that I actually have grown to love the fact that people find me irritating. It's also one good way to make sure that no one gets close enough to me.


The car stopped. We all got out. Turns out we had to buy gas for the stove or something like that. While papa was talking to the guy, mom was busy going on and on about something. When my earphones aren't in my ears sending music up to my brain, I have learned how to mute whatever other people have to tell me. When I decided to listen to what mom was going on and on about, I realized that she was ranting about my hair.


'You have to dye your hair back to black and get rid of the red color!' she yelled. Why do I have to dye my hair back to black? She continued by saying, 'Your interview is this Saturday. It's a very conservative school. You know that.' Boy, do I ever know that! 'You're going to shock the people there,' she reasoned. Don't I go around shocking everyone I meet? If they don't want to get me in because they judge people by their hair color, then I dunno what kind of standard they have in that place. It's not like I'll dye my hair black just to get accepted.


Got back into the car. We were on our way to the place where we have our laundry done. I kept trying to push my earphones into my ears, but my parents kept talking to me about weird things. They kept trying to include me in their conversation. Being the trying-to-be-good daughter that I am, I just nodded my head, smiled and pretended to be listening. Of course, I was having my own made up conversations with myself in my head. 


The car stopped. Papa got the laundry from the back of the car and brought it down. Mom started talking again. This time she chose to talk about boys, love, friend and regrets. I knew better than to engage in conversation with her about those topics. I went along with what she said and just let her talk. Sometimes, I just let her talk. She doesn't really need someone to talk to. She just needs to talk.

Mom was saying something like, 'There are so many fish in the sea. Why are you guys rushing to catch the wrong one?' I had no heart to tell her that we don't catch the wrong fish. We catch the right fish and it just loses its 'rightness.' No one catches the wrong fish. It's right for that specific moment. If it goes bad, just toss it into the sea and try to catch another one. 

By the time we made it to the grocery store, I just wanted to shut everyone up. Mom was going on and on about my red hair. Papa kept asking me about what I wanted to do in the province. They all had their own ideas about how to answer some stupid forms that they have to send in before the month ends. Sometimes I wish that parents would just shut up. Kids like me don't need to hear everything they talk about. I don't always want to be included in their conversation.

And then I realized why I stick earphones into my ears. I get so tired with life. Sometimes I want to escape living. For a few hours a day, I'd like to think that people are okay with my red hair, that my parents have forgotten my failures and that we all get along with each other. By ignoring the noise of the world, I can hear the noise in my head and make some sense out of it. I've learned that it's easier to fix up your life than try to fix the life of another person. So instead of yelling at my parents and telling them to shut up, I'll just play along and pretend that I'm listening. Hell, I'm listening. I just don't show it.


But for now, since they aren't looking, I'll get my earphones and try to catch another fish.