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.









Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Fine

This is my nth attempt to try and keep a pubic blog alive.

For some dumb reason, I cannot get myself to last on other blogging sites. I gave up on WordPress because I couldn't understand the fine print. LiveJournal practically ate me alive. Friends have been trying to get me back on Tumblr. Seems that each time I start a Tumblr, I delete it the next day. Blame my memory for reminding me why I hate Tumblr so much. I find myself back on Blogger.

So while I wait for the latest episode of How I Met Your Mother to make its way to my laptop, I shall try my best to entertain myself on this new blog. I keep asking myself, 'Why do I need this blog when I have another one that is seven years old?' I just need a place where I can dump my thoughts and no one will care. 'Don't you already have a place where you can do that?' I ask myself. But this is different. Sure, I tell myself and roll my eyes.


I just turned 19 a few days ago. 'Ayusin mo nga buhay mo!' someone told me jokingly. How do you tell an adult that you cannot fix up your life? You cannot tell your life to stop being messy if that's how your life really should go. Ancient adults think that there's such a thing as fixing-up-your-life. People now know that there is only this-is-my-life-deal-with-it. 

So how messed up is my life at the moment? I've got red hair and people at church think I'm wild. Five piercings doesn't mean that a person is wild or that a person doesn't have faith. Got out of school in the mountains because I was totally unhappy there. Made it in some school in the city. Not a big deal really. There's talk that we're moving out of this valley and into some unknown place. I don't mind this messed up life as long as I turn out fine in the end.

 I will turn out fine.