There's a hundred and four days of summer vacation

I can literally sing along to Phineas and Ferb now since the school calendar move paved the way for a very sweet three-month heaven. Classes resume August and though part of me is sad because I won't be having my OJT days alongside my original blockmates, I guess 12 weeks worth of SLEEP, movie marathons, festive free time, gourmet galore, bestie bondings and some more sleep is a good bargain in itself. I didn't narrow down the things I need to do this summer since I fail to do most of them anyway, so I guess it's a yolo kind of vacation this 2014 but I do vow to make it thoroughly productive. Fingers crossed once more.

Utang na loob, bakit ang awkward ko? :/

Dear: You,

I've been feeling down lately and it's not even because of how I don't have the slightest chance with you. I'm afraid I don't have the slightest chance with anybody. I know, I know. This is some pretty lame emo bullshit again but that's just how I feel right now. The fact is, the more I get to know you, the more I see how [cliched-ly] perfect you are- the more I see myself not worthy of you. And this is where things get more shitty complicated. You see, I know that if ever you were mine, I would go through miles trying to keep it that way. I know even in the smallest strand of DNA that I have, that I will and forever want to take care of you. I wish you'd let me. Then again, sometimes I wish you won't, considering I'm not the beauty-queen type. I'm sort of what you call weird and awkward. I'd rather hit it off with a book than at a party. I'm afraid that I'm not the kind of girl you'd be proud to show off to your friends or to your momma. I'm afraid I'm not your kind of girl, period. These two feelings of wanting to be with you and wanting what's best for you are battling it out in a dance-off. And the feeling of wanting to be with you is losing with its desperate awkward tango of hope that you'll be the one to pull the trigger first and rescue me from all this suppressed emotion. I want the best kind of girl for you, and somewhere deep down in me is a Rumpelstiltskin saying I'm not that girl. And that's what sucks. So now, I'm confused. Because try as I might, this isn't the typical happy ending chick flick you and I love to watch. I think it's somewhere between 500 Days of Summer and 500 Days of Summer, and I'm Tom. So there you go, I'm afraid of not finding anybody- because then, I wouldn't be able to forget about you. And what sucks the worst is I don't have the lady balls to tell you this in person, so yeah, I just hope that by some weird serendipitous accident, you pass by this e-confession of mine. Take care.

Sincerely,

Me

Mother of Rants

“You can take me down with just one single blow, but you don't know what you don't know.... Why you gotta be so mean?” – Mean, Taylor Swift

Alinsunod sa nabanggit na kataga, ako ay dumaranas ngayon ng hindi maipaliwanag na lungkot dahil sa mga naganap na pangyayari sa nakalipas na 24 oras. Ako po ay humihingi ng paumanhin para sa mga banyagang mambabasa ng artikulong ito (kung mayroon man, syempre) sa aking paggamit ng aking pinakamamahal na wika. Ito ay sa kadahilanang marahil sa paggamit nito ay mas mailalabas ko ang hinaing ng aking damdamin.

Eto kasi yun: naiinis lang po ako kasi may mga tao palang napaka-judgmental talaga. Ang mas malala pa don, kilalang tao na nga siya, ganun pa yung asal niya. Or baka di niya nahahalata, di ko din sure. Pero di ba? May pinagaralan kang tao, sana naapply mo yan sa buhay.

Irregular student kasi ako- ibig sabihin, hindi ako kabilang sa isang permanenteng section sa course ko. Kung nabasa mo na yung mga dating pino-post ko dito sa blog na 'to na wala naman yatang nagbabasa kundi ako at yung kapatid ko, malalaman mong kaya ako irreg ay dahil nag-stop ako sa pag-aaral- sandali lang naman, isang sem lang pero malaking epekto pa din kasi delayed na ko ga-graduate. Anyway, para sa mga hindi nakakaalam, mahirap pong maging irreg lalo na para sa mga naging ganon hindi dahil may bagsak sila o mahina ang brain cells nila, kundi dahil medyo napatid lang sila ng tadhana. Mahirap. Mahirap lalo na para sa mga medyo awkward na taong kagaya ko na hindi naman bihasa sa pakikipagkilala sa mga bagong tao, bagong classmates. Mahirap kasi kahit nag-aaspire ka ng mataas na grades, dahil medyo f****d up na yung scheds mo at kinukuha mong subjects, may tendency na hindi mo maabot yung goals mo (pero that doesn't mean, imposible. Kaya naman siguro). Mahirap kasi madalas mag-isa ka nalang mag-lunch. Mahirap kasi alam mong one step ahead na ang mga taong minsan mong naging kasabay. Mahirap kasi minsan walang paki-alam sayo yung klaseng napasukan mo.Mahirap kasi madalas tawag sayo ate/kuya kahit minsan magkakasing edad lang kayo. Pero siguro, ang pinaka-mahirap eh yung impressions sayo. Mahirap kasi wala kang palag sa pagtingin nila sayong kaya ka irreg ay dahil may mali sayo- either mej bobo ka (harsh naman ng bobo, uhhm, academically challenged pwede na ba?) o tamad ka. Medyo napatunayan ko yan kahapon.

Gusto kong isipin na hindi naman ako tamad na tao. Saksi naman siguro lahat ng nakakakilala sakin na hangga't maaari ay tinutulak ko ang sarili ko na maging da best I can be. Naiinis ako sa sarili ko kapag tumatakbo ang oras ng wala akong naa-accomplish. Marahil dahil panganay, marahil dahil di naman Napoles-like ang status sa buhay. Pero ang alam ko talaga kaya ako ganito, kasi eto lang naman talaga yung way para maibalik kela Mommy at Daddy yung pinaghihirapan nila eh. Sinabi ko minsan “mommy, nag top story po ako sa major ko,” sobrang ngiti nila nun ni Paps. Tas ako naman, ay pre kung nakita mo lang, mangiyak-ngiyak sa reaction nila. So malaki talagang deal sakin yung nasabi sakin kahapon. Intentional man o hindi, sobrang nasaktan talaga ko.

Have you ever felt a potential love for someone?

Like, you don’t actually love them and you know you don’t, but you know you could. You realise that you could easily fall in love with them. It’s almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it’s just not quite there yet. And you like them a lot, you really do. You think about them often, but you don’t love them. You could, though. You know you could.

(Source: http://cascadingletters.tumblr.com/ )

My Ideal Person

My ideal person would have the values and attributes I lack. This is so because I firmly believe that all men have the desire to be good and do no harm to others. But since situations and God's plan for every one of us differs, some people resort to evil doings and unrighteousness. They do not have the right mind set to remain in the goodness' side. Thankfully, there is Christian Ethics to help steer people back to morality.                                                                            (paper for Phl 5 – Christian Ethics)

My ideal person is someone who is fearless when it comes to uncovering and disseminating truth. Nowadays, deceit and pretensions are becoming less of an issue in the society and it is saddening. Another trait he has would be that of having a high sense of self esteem. Since the world today is full of misconceptions on who one should be, what one should wear, what one should look like and be like, it is important to still know what makes you different and what makes you stand out. People often bring other people down just to get on top but if you believe in yourself enough, you will overcome the odds. I also like my ideal person to be more aware and sensitive to other people's feelings. It is a step towards the most-coveted eternal life. Lastly, I would want my ideal person to be a leader for change. He will not be blown away by the pressures of the material world but instead he will fight for the masses and be an example and inspiration to others. He will not be swayed to take the easy road to anything. He will fight for what he believes in and struggle to make an honest living.

Physically-speaking, I want my ideal person to have a smile that can take away problems even for just a fraction of a second. I want him to have an infectious laugh. He will be the “fireball of the party,” and bring outcasts and awkward people at ease creating a happier place. He will have extraordinary strength not fueled by muscles, extreme work-outs and energy drinks but by optimism and faith in God.

My ideal person is a person completely surrendered to God. He lets the Great Architect design everything for him but still works and perseveres as much as if wanting to provide His Boss with the best output. He will have no regrets. He is at peace with the world.

BI = Bad Influence

Eh biglang narinig ko minsan,

 

 "ikaw talaga, bad BI ka rin noh."

http://esperanza-for-the-win.blogspot.com/

It's more fun in my imagination

I once believed that the Chocolate Hills in Bohol, atleast some of it, were actual chocolates. I was maybe six or seven then, trying to swallow as much as I can about Sibika at Kultura and Philippine geography when I first learned about these hills, which to my great disappointment, were not a Willy Wonka secret project gone wrong. The teacher was all-smiles telling the class how these hills- that were not at all chocolate- are God's gift to the Philippines. And I, being the know-it-all little girl with a sweet tooth, refused to believe all the nonsense she heard. I used to write my beliefs in the back of my Math notebook, saying “it's all a conspiracy, that the government does not want other nations to find out that we have these oversized processed cacao reservoir masquerading as hills.” Those many may not be my exact first grader words but it is the best way to describe the dread, irritation and maybe a slight hint of hunger that I experienced. I thought that Philippine authorities will assume telling the public about the true nature of the hills once threats were gone. In due time, I thought, everyone will know. Ten years after, nothing happened. So it's either I outgrew the belief or neighboring nations with hidden interest on the hills found out I knew top secret information and had to have my brain reprogrammed while I sleep. Let's hope it's the former. 

-assignment for Lit103 :) 

Socializing for Dummies

WE’VE ALL FELT IT. You don’t know what to say or what to do. You feel too aware of yourself and how you’re standing, how you’re looking, what you sound like. If you have teenagers, you know they feel it intensely. And some of the things teens do that seem so incomprehensible to parents stem from a simple desire to avoid feeling socially awkward.
Although it’s very natural to feel awkward around people you don’t know very well, it isn’t pleasant or productive. Here are two practical things anyone can do to feel more socially comfortable:

Relax your muscles. This makes you calmer. Most people don’t have any problem at all being social around people when they’re relaxed. That’s why social gatherings have traditionally served alcoholic beverages: It relaxes people. Find a muscle in your body that feels a little tense and consciously relax that muscle. You will instantly feel more at ease.

Make it your mission to help the other person feel more comfortable. Make conversation easy for the other person by asking questions she’ll enjoy answering. Find out the person’s name, whether she’s from this area, or if she’s not, where she’s from. Her answers will probably stimulate other questions and conversation. How about her family: Do they live in this area? Big family? Brothers and sisters? What do they do? How about work? What does she do for a living? Does she like it? What got her into it? How about travel? What parts of the world has she seen? Any hobbies? Listen with interest. Let her know you like what she’s saying. Help her feel comfortable.

That is basically six areas to talk about: name, home, family, work, travel, hobbies. Memorize that list of six topics, and when the time comes, the questions will come to mind easily, keeping the conversation lively and smooth. A smooth and lively conversation will put the other person at ease which will make you feel more comfortable.
You’ll probably never get to all six of the topics because as the other person starts talking, you’ll find points of interest you’ll want to know more about, and the two of you will start talking about that, and off you’ll go into Conversation Land.
You’ll get to know the person and have a wonderful time and you’ll just forget to feel awkward because you can only feel awkward when you’re self-conscious. As you become increasingly conscious of the other person, you become less conscious of yourself and your awkwardness disappears.
Relieve your social awkwardness by relaxing and concerning yourself with helping the other person feel comfortable. People will love you for it.



(Source: http://www.youmeworks.com/howtoavoidfeelingsociallyawkward.html)

I seduce with my awkwardness

Merriam-Webster dictionary defines awkward as lacking ease or grace.

And basically, maybe 50% or more of my anatomy is composed of it. I don't know why that is. It's not being shy. Shy is different and I can assure you, I'm far from it. I'm opinionated, talkative (with sense: optional) and outgoing. I guess the real issue here is the matter of comfort. Shy is never actually going for things or saying something because there is the presence of fear preventing the planned deed. Awkward is more of pushing through with said plan but never actually having the grace or poise to execute it without embarrassing oneself. That moment when you see a familiar more-of-an-acquaintance type of face from afar and your stomach seems to twist itself into knots. When you bump into a former high school “it” girl and realize, even though years have passed, the same social hierarchy still stands effective- you are what you have always been, the insignificant plain jane by the corner. When you pretend not to notice your past paramour when he's seated merely seats away from you on a jeepney. Those little moments when you want to tear your hair out and say censor-worthy things to destiny are routines for us, the awkward community. And ,frankly, sometimes it's just sad.

Sometimes I wish I was awake when the angels of heaven sprinkled social skills. I would have pushed my way through just to get a decent amount of it. Then I wouldn't have to struggle with myself, figuring out if I should have said hi at all to someone at the time and then regretting it afterwards when small talks turn as bad as lectures about certain “mature” things from your parents. AWKWARD!!!! I've always been the type who wants to approach people I know or knew. But when I do, it's either I mumble the weirdest facts, the corniest jokes, the most boring small talks or the most insincere how are you's. And when I don't, a feeling of guilt washes over me. I knew from the back of my mind “oh, no.. should've said hi, now I bet they think I'm a snob.” Please, I'm no snob. I just dont want to embarrass myself in front of you, in front of anybody in fact because, yes, my small talk skills are that terrible. Any way you look at it. I'm still the loser- always have and always will. Which makes me question if ever I do belong to journalism. Reporters aren't afraid to approach, much more dominate conversations. They're this people with golden tongues who know exactly what to say. I've never been that. I see to it that I plan what to say. I set up fillers and I figure out sneaky ways to inject humor (which in all honesty has failed me countless times already). I try to say smart things as much as possible. In the end, it just seems desperate and pathetic. But I guess that's just the way it is. I'm so awkward, maybe even my DNA and other microscopic constituents hide from each other to avoid communication.

But to my great fortune, some people find my social weakness, cute. They have the time of their life watching me rack my brain for things to say, which will eventually be cut short because I always politely and awkwardly excuse myself to go, knowing I would never make it past the 3 – 5 sentence record I have. I don't want to seem plastic to people but I don't want to come off aloof either. I don't know what to call friends who you're not that close to. Open friends? Haha, I made a funny. They're the real challenge, ofcourse. I mean when you're with your closest group of people, you can talk about cheese, for all you know, and you'd still be having a good time. It's different with these open friends. But I have to admit it makes life all the more exciting.

P.S. Imagine me running all action star-like just to avoid talking with a high school knowing. (Think Mission Impossible or more accurately, think Johnny English)

Kidding Around

There is always something about traveling on a long and winding road that gets me all sentimental. I often find myself looking at my fellow passengers and wondering what their life is like, what are they thinking and most importantly- are they happy? Afterwards, I turn to myself and ask the same questions. Am I happy? I don't know for sure. I know I try to be. Someone once said, “happiness is a choice.” So it IS up to us to make the decision.

Today as I was riding a jeepney on my way home from school, I sat across a mother and her daughter. From the first look, it was quite evident that the woman works in the market. She carried with her a sack of corn or potatoes, maybe, and wore a light cotton shirt and cargo shorts. Shortly after handing their payment for the fare, the woman drowsed off and left me with only the little girl beside her to observe. The girl with her worn-out rubber sandals and Dora the Explorer t-shirt was a perfect picture of innocence and middle class life. Her hair was neatly tucked into place with a simple ponytail- no adornments of flowers and butterflies whatsoever. And so despite how plain that little angel was, my eyes could not stop staring. I forgot to mention that lately I have been obsessing on kids, young girls in particular. I feel all warm and fuzzy when they're around. I could just play with them all day long. Anyway, there I was fixed on the little girl who was overpowering with her sweet simple adorable-ness. And to escalate the cuteness effect, to my surprise, she started singing. And not even the current songs of today but those that belong to my parents' era. I desperately tried to stifle a wide smile during that whole encounter but it was just too much. Soon, I found myself softly singing with her. We cooed to Martina McBride's My Valentine, local hits like Sana Maulit Muli and Pagdating Ng Panahon , and many more.

Then when it was time for the little girl and her sleeping beauty mother to get off the jeep, I felt a tinge of curiosity. I wondered if people saw me the way I saw the kid. I wondered if beneath all this ordinary, awkward and flawed self, others could still see potential and beauty. I was amazed with that girl, being young as she is but still able to appreciate the grand music conceived even before she was. It was a gift and I was proud to have witnessed it. Us, people nowadays look for the dirty spots on a clean canvass and I wish it would not be that way anymore. I wondered if people looked at me when I was younger and made guesses on what and who I was going to be. I hoped it was something good, something positive, something like what I saw in that little girl.

Love is patient... blah blah blah

♥

(http://www.pinkforsure.com/)

Oplan: Balik Eskwela

This mostly means I get to stop all my ranting about how bipolar-ly depressing and motivating it is to stop studying. Yesterday, October 30, I enrolled once again at a certain Pontifical and Royal Catholic University for 15 units- that is 5 subjects which I get to take at a mind-blowing, totally laid-back M-W-F schedule. Our budget did not exactly have the luxury of me trying out my luck for a Physical Education subject (P.S I was really looking forward to having volleyball as my P.E. - I've been savoring the smell and swish of a Mikasa for four freaking long months now and then this happens) but still it was a whole lot better than having to sit immobile at home for another semester. And as much as I wanted to yell out my excitement of having to wear once again my uniform, I couldn't say the same emotion goes for some of my previous blockmates who have gone through a really tough time fixing their grades, chasing professors and worse, asking for consideration. It was extremely painful for me to know that the price of me coming back had to be a classmate's departure :'(

Being a Kid again

Last night, me and my two siblings caught the last scene of Peter Pan 2: Return to Neverland- the part when Peter and Wendy saw each other again after years. I've always loved that scene. Peter and Wendy was my childhood loveteam and it was sad for me that they didn't stay together. And that's the reality of life. Nothing is bound to stay as it is and so we gotta treasure everything while it lasts and keep the magic within. Wendy knew she had to grow up. Being young forever wasn't the adventure, she thought. It was the one keeping it from her, in fact. But I'm still happy because although Wendy did decide to grow up she still kept a kid's heart and her childhood beliefs and, thus, the somehow levitating portion in the scene...... Suddenly I felt like going back in time (insert song from childhood days here).

I remember having a Kiki and Lala shirt back when I was, maybe, 3. I would recall wearing that shirt for most nights during my preschool  days. I'd force my mom to have it washed often just so I can wear it almost every other bed time. I would even get annoyed with myself whenever I spill milk on it. I don't have that shirt anymore but I always treasured the memory of having it. It takes me back to that special time when the only thing I feared was the Boogeyman and when a single Pinipig ice cream bar made me feel like I'm in heaven. It reunites me with little Dani-Ann- the girl who'd  go out every four in the afternoon to play pretend-this and pretend-that for hours until her mom calls her in. Times like that are priceless. No worldly pressures, no bad intentions, no hideous pimples- nothing. Just Plain Fun.

 Cartoon Graphics

 

I don't always watch horror...

 

(made with love from: http://textspace.net/)

Luck in being unlucky.

Since I am somehow an inch-close to actually joining the likes of proud ,polished, employed men and women who celebrate every 15^th and 30^th of the month, I figured that it is only proper to give back some of the kind blessings and overwhelming generosity I've been receiving lately by blogging about it. I know I'm no Mother Theresa and maybe what I'm doing will hardly deliver any impact to the lives of all those who have helped me but, what the heck, some recognition is what anybody would want these days...

P.S If it's any consolation, when I get rich- exaggeratedly rich, I vow to give those people a car or something. hehe

And so the story: I think I've mentioned in my previous posts that I am not studying as of the moment. Hence, the need for me to make myself useful and not be a burden to my parents whom I think are more depressed than I am that I stopped. I seriously feel guilty most of the time for not being smart I guess. If only I could have gotten in that prestigious state university of the country then maybe we won't be this much helpless. If only I could have done better in this certain network marketing job I used to do then maybe we're not worrying about tuition for my younger siblings right now. If only I was talented enough or pretty enough to be on TV then maybe we'd have the money to buy our own house. So many over-the-top, drama-queen “if's” but I hope you get the point anyway. And while my supposed to-be classmates are busy learning about the basics of news writing, I am busy hating myself for being worthless.

But then, there are such things as miracles. And you don't just let things like those pass. You freakin' chase after them if you have to. A relative of ours came to the rescue. She was so nice even if we just met for the first time- second actually but I was really young then and all I could remember was that I was too shy to say hi eye to eye and thus no image of her was saved in my brain. Anyway, I was offered a job tutoring online. I was ecstatic! Finally I could help with the bills and stuff. I could save money again because there is money to be saved again to start with. And most importantly, I could look forward to going back to school much more now that I have the means to actually fulfill doing so. Ate Celyn, as I call her, has been very gracious and patient the whole time she was teaching me the ropes of teaching online. I would always have this fear that she would get mad and quit helping me whenever I text her questions about this and that, but she would just reply with everything answered and with that timeless smiley. I will forever be grateful to her.

As I expected the whole procedure of being hired has been a whirlwind. For the most part, I always see myself blowing the chance off. I guess not being in school while all the others your age are, takes its toll by munching on your self-esteem. To top my confidence-deficiency off, the internet connection in every house I go to seems to be hating me. My interview for the job, my first one in fact, was anything a thriller/comedy movie could be- if ever something like that does exist. Skype kept messing around, my headphones and mic were grounded, internet in that house of our neighbor was impossible and I was extremely nervous. First part was a grammar test, second was essay, and I was stressing my way the entire time. I don't know if it was the internet connection or just Skype but things were really lagged the whole time and I kept picturing myself failing the dang interview. The interview part was worse, I guess. I was stuttering from the nervousness, but quite frankly from being unsure of what I'm saying exactly. But for some weird luck, the interviewer announced that I passed the interview. I was completely dumbfounded when I heard it that I asked him once more if what I heard was right. I was prepared to yell out the excitement but then stopped halfway and apologized because I knew he had heard me somehow. It was very unprofessional but thank god he didn't take back me passing the interview. I knew I screwed up big time but like Ate Celyn, I think Mr. Interviewer somehow sensed I needed this. I needed the job. But I needed to prove myself more.

My next two angels were girls. They had the most beautiful voices I have ever heard, no joke. Because everything is done online like the job itself, I had to pray really hard that the internet be cooperative or else it could be the end for me. No job. No help to the family. No worth. But like my previous unfortunate encounter, I always get disconnected and stuff. I said to myself that it wasn't going to be like the interview. I will prepare hardcore for this. But then the universe so merrily conspired for me to have another replay of that tragic moment. My demo class wasn't perfect. The curse followed me to Ate Celyn's house. It's a good thing that the demo student didn't get mad and ditched me. I was very thankful for her that I passed. I knew I did sort of well there, I worked hard for that day. And Ate Celyn coached me a little. The next stop was the orientation. It's like everything was being set up perfectly for me and I just didn't knew it. Because before passing this stage, I was again having connection troubles and blubbering cases. I was surprised to find out that some of the questions were not in the reading materials the company sent me. I kept saying goodbye to me having work the entire time. But then, like a fairytale movie, it always has this happy ending. The trainer announced I passed but reminded me to review and go over the readings so as to not fail in the OJT.

So I'm almost at the last stop. I cannot screw this at any cost because there will be no one to save me now. I really hope we'll have our own connection anytime soon. But in the meantime, I'm still trying to get over all the luckily unlucky events that have happened, trying to think of ways to get back at those people who went and gave me a shot and trying to push myself to be better.

* Sorry for the inconvenience this boring, poorly written post has brought you...

So, a bad day?

Jaime: I have my beliefs... I have faith, but don't you?

Landon: No, there's too much bad shit in this world

                                                                      -A Walk to Remember (2002)

Things happen for a reason. And no matter how messed up I may be at times or how unbelievably bad my day is, I keep in mind that eventually everything will lighten up and become just a mere story of the past. It's a continuous struggle to keep this mindset but thankfully the Lord gave me enough power to summon this thinking whenever I am on the verge of breaking down.

These past few months, I had the time to really meditate and reflect on a lot of things. One of them is on how I react to situations. I'm really glad I'm not so much of a crybaby anymore. A lot of people are in worse situations than I am and I should be thankful that all I have to deal with are girl cramps, pathetic teen issues and not enough sleep. And I really didn't see my being out-of-school as a negative thing- in any case it taught me a lot of lessons and let me experience things I never expected. The thing that scared me the most would be the thought of having no one when I go back to school. Everyone would be one step ahead. Everyone would be going their own way forward without having to look back at me- their short classmate who was held one semester back. I know its childish to be so thoroughly concerned at such little thing. So I am very glad I got over it. The thought of how my blockmates took me in and made me feel that I still belonged last August 26 is one of the things that gets me going alongside the fact that everyone in my family works their hardest just so I can enroll in the next semester, just to cheer me up whenever I feel bored and just to support me in my current endeavors. I think it wouldn't be too much for me to keep mum about my petty little drama queen problems and help out by being more mature about my feelings, right?

Next Story: today dad got back home looking a little bit more poker-faced than usual. Turns out he had this heated road face-off with some guys who bumped into the van that he's driving. My father works in transport service. And so he was driving along his usual route when all of a sudden, a guy pushing a cart or something purposely hit the side of the van. Talk about weird! And so dad got out of the van and confronted the man. Little did he know about the company that weirdo of a man had. They somehow ganged up on my dad and threatened him that there “would be more trouble if eh stayed”. My dad knew better than to give those scumbags the satisfaction of being terrified and pissed. So he walked away. Me and my mom were surprised to see him home so early. He told us about what happened and added that he would be going to the police station tomorrow to file a blotter on the trouble makers he met. He found a way to be the better man without having to shout it out. Dad said he didn't mind the damage those people did to the car, but the threat and the attitude they showed would not be overlooked. He regularly passes through that place so any assistance from the authority would be good, if God forbid, anything happens to him.

Last rant: Like in Paramore's song “I've seen love die, way too many times when it deserves to be alive” , I too have witnessed too many break-ups, too many broken hearts and too many smashed hopes. Most of them mainly because the parties involved are too young to handle what they think is love. Bitter people would agree with this- nothing lasts forever. But sometimes miracles do happen, although finding one would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, the wait is surely worth it. Just now, I see a pair of potential lovebirds from the most unlikely two- a quiet bookish friend of mine is suddenly the new apple of the eye of this happy-go-lucky Mr. Popular type of guy whose also a friend of mine. Seriously, they look so cute together. It's all serendipity, I guess. I get envious sometimes LoL. But seeing the guy change so much and do so much for the girl, it makes me wanna say “awww” and cry my eyes out. You don't get to see Landon Carter-ish boys nowadays. They barely talked to each other before and now, it's like they spend almost everyday making each other's dream come true. I'm so corny I know but if you get the chance to see what I see, you would be this cheesy, too. I'm really excited on what's going to happen next.. Looking at them, it gives me more hope that somewhere ahead, there's bound to be good things waiting. I just have to be patient. Those two didn't go out looking for each other, they just found themselves like that, and so if I do the same- if I just do my best everyday and keep all the bad vibes locked up far from doing me harm, then eventually the good will find its way to me.

I have my beliefs.. I have faith, but don't you?

What I will do

Girls doing breakdance-- this will be my new goal.

After watching Wer U At on Myx a while ago, I decided that I will be temporarily obsessing on girl b-boy dancers and breakdancers. Just think of how awesome their life must be, having the talent and the heart to rival the opposite sex on something that the society thinks is male-dominated.

Gotta get in my dancing shoes again and hopefully do justice when I finally do breakdance. :D

Mirror, mirror

And so I broke another mirror today. I was greatly paranoid about it- not to the fact that maybe I'll have seven years of unfortunate events coming ahead but because that mirror was a favorite of mine. I had that mirror for only less than a year but it meant a lot to me that I still kept a small piece of it.

It all started one bright, rainy day (the sun was up but it was raining, so yeah). T was already dismissal and I found it lying on a chair. As usual I had to do the very noble thing of asking to whom it belonged to before actually claiming it as my own. No one answered. No one even cared. For some bizarre reason, I adored that mirror right away. It wasn't even these heavy vintage-y looking mirrors that SM department store and Etude House sell. I'm sure it isn't pricey and I'm more than certain it doesn't appeal that much to girls who mostly worship the color pink. It was just this plain blue rectangular mirror with no special design and no other function than to reflect the thing it's faced at. And I absolutely loved it!

I felt sorry for the person who lost it, though. Losing something-no matter how small, inexpensive or insignificant- can create a frown on your face. I sincerely felt sorry but only for a short time. Mean, I know but I guess it was meant to be that that mirror fall into my hands . The thing is, I just feel like I see myself in it. I know what you're thinking- duh! It's a mirror, ofcourse you can see yourself in it. What I mean is, the mirror, in a way, IS me.

I sometimes compare its ordinary design, pocket-sized built and lack of special features to my plain appearance, petite body structure and low self-esteem issues. I feel comforted in a way because inspite all the negativity in the things that I mentioned, I know that mirror makes up for all its imperfections by functioning the same as any other mirror. I figured that's how I want to be. I want to be able to make help out in my own way even if I'm not the best there is. I could look at myself in that mirror and tell myself that there's still hope. I can still leave a mark in this world even if I'm not someone you can call “exceptional”, even if I fall and screw up sometimes and even if this- an average middle-class girl willing to fight- is all I have to offer. If I do my job right, like the mirror- fancy designs and attractive shapes won't matter- I still made a difference.

It's still quite embarrassing that an inanimate object had to be the one to teach me that lesson however I'm still grateful. Also, I resent breaking it in the most stupid way possible- I sat on it!. It could have been more dramatically sentimental and subtle if only I had dropped it or it got smashed by somebody else. Tsk. And so I dedicate this post to my beloved mirror who helped me survive moments of insecurity and doubtfulness of worth.