polka dots and round fruits

My way of greeting the incoming new year has always been different. Instead of jumping up and down, up and down in the hopes of growing taller, I just chat away in HEXrpg.com. Until the fireworks start fizzing in the heavens, one can find me in front of the computer, amused by my chatmates who'll be celebrating the coming of the new year one day later than we in the Philippines do.

Speaking of which, I got back in HEXrpg.com just three days ago. Finally, finally, I decided to give up on my old account to start a new one. There's going to be a lot of changes in my HEX life from now on because I have changed since I went to UP. Besides, this ex-Hufflepuff has just been sorted into Slytherin. I may have to start getting used to the people who trashed our common room last year and left pictures of dead pictures for us to see...

Still, my mother's right. Everything is just a stepping stone. Heartaches and pain will only make you stronger. They won't kill you unless you let them.

Happy New Year, minna-san!

Toodles! Poof...

digital memories

It was Christmas Day yesterday, my 16th so far. For the third year running, my cousins had their gift giving and as usual, I offered my services in case they needed the added manpower. When I arrived, however, it was already too late and the receivers of the gifts were already standing by the gate of my cousins' house, preparing to go home. Sigh. Totally defeated the purpose of my visit, but oh well.

There were also some other people there, workers from my aunt's karinderya business. I didn't know them well so while they were singing their hearts out in the giant karaoke set, I sat in one corner of the living room and began riffling through the ancient photo albums stacked beside me. And I discovered a lot of things.

1. When my mother was younger, she looked a lot like my eldest cousin.

2. In some angles, my aunt looks like my mother.

3. I was once a very cute kid, which leads me to wonder how I grew up looking like this.

4. Ugly Ducklings do exist.

5. Looking at pictures is a sad, sad enterprise.

Feeling some thick polaroid photos in my fingers, I wondered how my future granchildren would feel as they'd look at my photos. You might laugh and say I'm way too young to be worrying about posterity issues, but seriously, will the impact of captured moments be the same if it's seen through a computer monitor?

Or maybe a hologram, if they get to inventing hologram computers.

Just a sad thought conceived on my uneventful Christmas eve.

there's always a first time

My first Christmas as a college student is tiring, filled with lots of assigned readings, a paper on depleted uranium due on January 4th, documentation for rytwel.com and RX, and pressure to do something useful as a committee head of the First Floor Girls. I am constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown, always sleepy. Worse, in the past three days, the number of times I've raised my voice exceeds the total count of my shouting explosions in UP. Just some of the reasons I'm don't feel like partying much even though Christmas is just two days away.

Still, I feel the warmth and see the signs that I should, for a couple of days, drop everything and enjoy. Old ladies and groups of teens lugging guitars around, young trapo vendors ditching their merchandise in exchange for homemade tambourines, and the grand green and gold lights display in front of the municipal hall. Even though my eyelids are always threatening to close and I'm perpetually in need of my jacket because of the cold weather, this season brings me a lot of positive emotions. There's the fact that life, Jesus's greatest gift, is still free - priceless. There's hope and love and hugs from friends I haven't seen in months. There's family and the fat chance that our dog will be cowering again come fireworks night. Lots of things and other blessings of Christmas for which I would willingly line up in the crowded Graphic counter, and listen to lectures I can hardly relate to. I would give anything to be home for Christmas.

And for my friends who aren't in their respective hometowns right now, it's okay. There will come a time when all of us won't be able to spend the holidays in the homes we've grown in, and you guys just happened to experience the separation earlier. Someday, I, too, will be far away from home on Christmas eve. But since I've always been a child at heart, and until now I'm still very childlike, please understand that I'd rather my parents waste money on airplane fare than let me spend a special night on my own a hundred miles away from home.

And yes, I'm mushy because I'm frustrated I can't get into the site I want to enter. And those noisy kids are at it again.

Toodles! Poof...

On Pineapple-Fed Cows and Vanity

Here in the Kalayaan Residence Hall, we have a lot of exciting activities organized for the benefit of the dorm’s residents. One of these is the Pasalubong Festival, which is scheduled on the 5^th of January next year. The main purpose of the event is for the kids from the different regions of the Philippines to showcase what their places are known for, like delicacies and plant-life or head-hunting practices. I’m from Region X, Northern Mindanao, and I’m proud to say I love my region mates very much.

We’ve decided on a lot of things tonight. What kinds of food to bring, how on Earth the booth should look like, who should usher the guests, etc. I never really meant to bring what I was assigned to bring, but because I was the one who mentioned the pineapple-fed cows from that golf course in Bukidnon…

Sigh. And each kilo is worth more or less 300 something. Grrr.

It should be worth it though. At least I’m going to bring something special, something no one’s heard of until I opened my big mouth. I’m happy to say that although I’ve never tasted that steak, I’m sure it’s top quality. Where on Earth have you heard of cows being fed pineapples?

…

What? Japan? Oh, yeah. Japan. Still.

I also volunteered to be in the Docu Team for our PasaFest entry, and I’m sort of heading it together with Aliyah Batara, who is very nice and always puts smileys in her text messages. As of the moment, I can’t imagine what we’re going to do for documentation. Are the team members going to tour Region X and take pictures of the scenery? Or are we just supposed to visit my next-door neighbor, who works for the Department of Tourism, to ask for some CD’s promoting our place?

Bah, whatever. All I know is I’m excited to go see those fireworks the Region III people are exhibiting. I just love fireworks.

Speaking of lovable things, I also like surveys. So I made this survey for myself. It’s not really vanity that’s motivating this self-centered deed. It’s just that in English 12 with Sir Falgui earlier, I realized that our choices define who we are. Maybe, somewhere in the middle of choosing my favorite color of index cards, I can discover more about myself.

This thing is a reflective, meditative, solemn act. Supposedly.

Role Playing Game: Miss Universe, Question and Answer Portion

Q: If you were Superman’s ten-year-old cousin and you were on your first mission, what would you want that mission to be?

A: I would want my first mission to take place in a busy street. If there was a child in the middle of the road, in danger of being run over by a vehicle, I would rescue him/her. Remember Eugene from Ghost Fighter? How about Qi Yue’s father from Devil Beside You? Both of them died because they both tried to rescue little children crossing the street. To avoid accidents like that, I, Superman’s ten-year-old cousin, shall do the saving in their place.

Q: The Goddess of Harvest offered to give your farm an abundant harvest this year. What fruit would you like to have a large stock of and why?

A: I would like to have a lot of mangoes in my inventory. They’d better be topnotch, like the ones they grow in Guimaras. I want them because my father says they’re high in demand and my mother happens to like them to. Besides, I also like drinking mango shake, so it’s all good.

Q: You’ve read Harry Potter, right? If you were J.K. Rowling’s editor, what would you advise her to write as an alternate epilogue?

A: Even though I don’t like the epilogue, I probably won’t tell her to change much about it. It is her brain-child after all, and I may not know much but I know artists are very sensitive about their work. I am, however, her editor, so I’d probably give a few comments and ask a few questions that would make her think twice about putting anything in pen and ink forever. I won’t tell her to do anything, but I’ll make sure she’ll do something on her own accord.

Q: What kind of part-time job would you want?

A: I’d really like to be a student assistant. Or a waitress. Or a jeepney driver (originally, I wanted to drive buses, but I realized they were too big). Just nothing concerning a desk and paper. I’d really want to do something with my hands.

Q: According to Charles Schulz, “Life is like a ten-speed bicycle. Most of us have gears we never use.” If that were true, what are your unused gears and why aren’t you using them?

A: Most probably, my cross stitch skills. I’ve been trying so hard to follow cross stitch patterns but I just can’t get them right!? But seriously? I think I’m not using my Math skills very well. My aptitude exams insist that I am capable of doing quite well in the subject but most of my achievement tests prove otherwise. I think I just have a poor foundation in Math. 

for the love of sheep, let me blog

This is my third draft for this blog entry. I don't know what's wrong with me right now; maybe I'm just sabog. But seriously, I can't find anything sensible to write about. So bear with me, O practically non-existent reader, and venture into the world of the sabog teenage girl typing this down.



Among all the types of cattle in the world, I favor sheep. I was watching Brokeback Mountain (well, half of it, anyway) with Nina yesterday and I was simply awestruck by the large quantity of sheep Jake and Heath were guarding. They looked so gentle and mild, and I suddenly found their bleating stuck to my head. Aargh, no wonder my father didn't want to raise sheep in the orchard. He said that by the time we'd have to stew them, we'd pity them. And pity them, we probably would.


Pity, according to the Cyborg code from that movie starring Bi and that girl from I'm Sorry I Love You, is one of the seven deadly sins. Pity is supposedly a hindrance because it prevents one from doing what ought to be done. Most of the time, it leads to unwanted situations. For example, if you were the protagonist in the movie Tiyanak, would you hesitate in killing that monster? Yeah, it may bawl like a baby, but you know that if you don't stab it twenty thousand times it's gonna bite your head of so why would you think twice before doing the deed? The reason: Pity. Pity, piteous, pitiful.


Pitiful students of the University of the Philippines, rejoice. Not all of us may get a chance to earn an UNO this semester but all of us are invited to The Pre-Centennial Lantern Parade! *insert whoop here* Of course, we may not have gotten the ultra-special paper invites sent by the U to VIP's but it's a given fact that we're expected to witness that event! *yebah!* And I'm ecstatic because it's the last thing I'll be doing before getting on that plane bound for CDO! I'm going home, Friends! And guess what? I'm not bringing you guys anything! Tee hee hee!

See you soon, people! People, see you soon!


Toodles!
Poof....

UNOable

I have no chance of getting an UNO this sem.
That's the highest grade in the UP System.
Before college, I thought if I worked hard enough I'd be able to get that coveted grade.

But I was wrong.

I can't get an UNO because I didn't work hard enough for it.
Hehehehe.

I learned a lot anyway.
And I still want to learn more - UNO or no UNO.
Please, no SINGKO.

That's what counts.


Happy sembreak, minna-san!

Always in Demand, Not Enough Supply

Have I mentioned that the School of Econ has its own fascination for batch shirts, too? Our batch committee came up with a pretty cool design. The shirt itself isn't swoon worthy; it's just an over sized white shirt. I really like our slogan though: Always in Demand, Not Enough Supply. Cool, huh?

And no, I didn't write that first paragraph as a follow-up to my last entry. It's just that I've been getting a lot of spooky stares today, all from people I've never noticed or even seen before. I'd like to think they're staring at me because my shirt has intrigued them, not because they think I look like I just came out of bed with my baggy jogging pants plus one-size-too-big slippers. Just for the record, I went to class looking like this and no one gave a da**.

Hehehe.

Emphasis on the almost-swear word. I feel like a bad girl lately. Now that the finals fever has arrived, I've been doing nothing acad-related. This morning, I slept at 2 am because I was going gaga over Sims2. This morning, the mothership sent me a message scolding me for going more or less PhP 1,040 over my mobile plan. Finally, I seem to have lost the fanaticism that used to possess me while prepping for a Math exam. The last time I studied for a Math Test, I skipped two meals, forgot to take a bath and only came out to mingle for one hour.

Yaf , I did all that in the name of Math.

Anyway, I should go now. Perhaps if I stare hard enough at my reviewer every thing I have to study will stuff itself in my head...

...

I think I'll listen to Top Five at Five first. hehehehehe.


Toodles! Poof...

when there's a line, prepare to fall

The UP is famous for its ultra-lengthy pilas. In fact, some of the more money-minded upperclassmen have banked on this piece of info to sell shirts to us freshmen with slogans like 'Pagod sa Pila?' and similar quotations.* Flashback to the first week: I was shocked to find a super super super long line of students waiting for their turn at the enrollment counter. The line started on the first floor of the AS, and the tip of this extremely agitated snakelike-crowd was on the third floor. I am not making this up.

Although my day-to-day activities as a freshie do not compel me to engage myself in such tiring activities, I've gotten used to 'falling in line'. Once, I finished reading three essays for Eng11 while waiting for my turn at a Landbank ATM. In another instance, while waiting for a jeep to SM North, I finished checking my email through my mobile phone. And any surfer-via-mobile would know how slow the connection is, right?

Don't mind me. Just frustrated that I've been sitting here for almost tree hours, trying to pre-enlist for my would-be subjects next sem. I might even have to skip Math because the server's taking so long. I can't leave because if I do, by the time I come back, there won't be any slots left for me to squeeze through. :(

Aaah. Bliss.

I think I'll do my HEX homework while waiting.


Toodles! Poof...




*I think the most imaginative shirt-makers in campus are the people from Eng'g. Their college shirts scream stuff like 'So what kung UNO ka? Eng'g ka ba?!' and 'Your Dream, My Reality'.

Ooooooh. Sugar Rush.

Math 17 exam earlier. T'was okay.

Thanks, Sir Montes! :D You have noooo idea how thankful I am you're no terror teacher.


Pride Night was last night. If I were the high school me I would have felt terribly insecure because majority of my floor mates were valedictorians or Prom Queens in their younger years but nah. That me is soooo buried under six feet of my mother's ancient romance novels. I was actually laughing because no matter how accomplished they seem to be, they have their own frustrations, too - some of which can be pretty petty. Take my Roommate for a Night as an example. She bagged all the major awards their school had to offer, joined every club during her senior year, and maintained Class President standing since fourth grade but she's frustrated that she's never received an award for good conduct. All together now, "Hail the Almighty Nosebleed!"

By the way, Nina calls me Theory Queen because I have a knack for coming up with weird theories that almost always turn out to be true - blame it on years of Detective Conan addiction. I have this theory that the smarter a person is the freakier his or her love life turns out to be. And nuh-uh, I'm not saying this because of the classic Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon line, "Even the greatest warriors can be fools in love". It's just really, really true it should be declared a Law and added to the list of Trigonometric Identities right beside sin, cos and tan. To agree with me, all you have to do is listen to love stories of Pisay kids. This is one of this rare cases where Hearing is Believing.

Gotta go now. I wanna get into Cine Adarna for Joint Security Area, which starts...... now. It's part of the 1007 Korean Film Festival. So.... When admission is free, grab the opportunity!


Toodles! Poof!

Tugged.

Mary Chris is the culprit. She tugged me to write eight things about myself that other people don't know. Seeing that it's only Ma'am G who reads this blog I'm going to find it difficult to come up with stuff she doesn't know. So I'm gonna write about my life as an iska 'cause she doesn't know much about that. Tee hee.

> Most of my allowance goes to street food, net cafe fees and stuff for our dorm corridor since I'm the one in charge of its cleanliness. I've given up my favorite chicken ball and kwek kwek and now I'm trying to look for alternative snacks. (I've discovered that too much Onion and Chives crackers make my tummy rumble.) I cannot, will not but should monitor my net usage so now I'm trying to cut my net hours - and it's a failure, I'm telling you. Oh, and don't tell my mother I'm spending stuff for the dorm 'cause she'll give me a long lecture on the adverse effects of assuming responsibility.

> Four months into the AY and I've already destroyed my printer, my laptop's DVD player, the alarm clock Mary gave me and two pairs of shoes. Not to mention, my flashdisk is full of viruses and I haven't brought the digicam to the repair shop yet.

> I haven't read any 'light, recreational reading' for three weeks and that's sort of depressing.

> I've seen movies 1-10 of Detective Conan (the vids I wanted to download so badly) through YouTube. Of course, I had to watch all those 10 minute cuts per installment but at least I've finished them, noh? Kudos to shinichi726! (only a DC addict will see the pun)

> Vegetables I'm starting to tolerate, Fish I'm beginning to accept. Stuff you have to deal with in dorm life. Especially Kalayaan Residence Hall life where we aren't affected by the Pangasinan fish kill.

> I started being money-conscious (accounting obsessively, saving like mad, checking price tags ala DTI inspector) the first day my parents left me to fend off for myself.

> Classes have suddenly become strangely addictive. I suddenly don't want to miss classes and I've started studyng two hours per each subject. Sometimes, when I drink coffee I can't sleep at all and I go insane (read: I study at dawn and listen to Mellow Touch's 5 am rosary). And this is the last sign of my insanity: I've started studying two weeks before the test. What's happening to me?

> I don't want to go home yet. Hmmm. Of course, I need some rest and I really should see my family and friends but surprisingly, I like the pace here. I love the way things happen one after another, so fast and simply complex. In a sense, it's like actual living.


I tug Ma'am G! Tell us eight stuff about yourself! :D

in memory of 0-14

Well. We won. :D


Admittedly, we were sort of maangas back there, getting into tussles and raising black banners and using our creativity to create giant f*** you signs that thankfully weren't shown on TV, but hey, the PEP squad really performed well. So we can still say we fought fairly. Honesty Through Sports. heh.

Now I understand 'excitement in the air'. I felt it yesterday as we stood for six hours just to show our support for the pep squad to whom victory has been so darn elusive. And YEAH, we stood for six hours, screaming our tonsils off and seeing nothing but raised hands and cheering paraphernalia but it was all worth it. Seriously. I'm still feeling euphoric right now and I'VE GOT MATH after this. That should say something. ;)

Immediately after we won, I began receiving text messages generated by UP students. I can't really say they're bad... but they're not really that friendly either. The upperclassmen are probably just elated that the U won after how many years of not bagging the championship title. Sorry, I can't relate. It's my first year here. :D Hurray to the freshman! Guinea pigs for TOFA and deliverers of UAAP Cheerdance Success!


Toodles! Poof...
sandybeaple

my fave subject has betrayed me

setting: CAL 212, approx 10 am earlier
characters: English 11 (Literature and Society) Class TFU1
genre: tragedy

I irk myself. There we were, discussing stories as usual when Prof asked us a question, and I, as usual, muttered my answer under my breath. Of course, she noticed it and she asked me to repeat it to the class so I did. Darn, turned out my answer was wrong.

Worst part was, my whole body started to freeze and steam was practically gushing out of my ears. I was so numb and so brain dead that I couldn't even pull myself together to tell myself, "Get a grip, you weirdo! Are you this afraid of failure?" And that wasn't the first time it happened, you know? It happens all the bloody time. I just freeze whenever I give a wrong answer and how I hate it!

As always, after that brief flash of paranoia I resolved not to recite. But oh, my overactive tongue did its thing again and I found myself mumbling more incoherent answers to Prof's questions. She asked me to share them to the class, but I, in fear of being self-ridiculed again, found a way to shrug her offer off. I was deeply touched though, when Ed, an upperclassman, sort of nodded at me as his own way of saying "Go on, say it."

Perhaps he noticed how red my face was. Haha! But either way, his simple nod made me feel much much much better. (Read: I do not have a crush on him.)

So there. That brief spasm of absurdity is just about the funniest thing that happened to me today. I attribute it to raging hormones. Harharhar!




Toodles! Poof...
sandybeaple


A link to Araby by James Joyce. Read it. Loads of fun.
http://fiction.eserver.org/short/araby.html



Ooooh!
Went to Puerto Galera last weekend. Was shocked to find there's still muro-ami there. Sea urchins scared me to death even though I wasn't able to see even one. Corals near Medio Island are so pretty - found a purple one. Ocean's 7, finally bonded! Wasn't able to buy any pasalubong because we ran out of time. Harharhar. Will be back someday.

The Money Tree

Wala lang. I'm running out of money, waaah.


They say money isn't the root of all evil because it's love of money that drives everyone borderline crazy. I agree. Honestly, I'm quite materialistic as well and I just love carrying cute little plastic bags (sorry, Mother Earth) with lots of merchandise in them. I value cash because I don't have a lot of it - I don't have stocks either so don't get any ideas. Then there are also those rich kids (actually, in UP they're called cono but that's a swear word in Spanish so I don't use it because I belong to the department with the largest population of these guys) who don't value money much because they have too much of it. So it sort of inspires me when I hear stories of people (who don't have money AT ALL) who still share what they have.

For a moment forget the parable about the poor woman who gave the church a donation (it WAS a huge percentage of her economic profit so it really is quite admirable deed) and check this out:

There's a girl I met recently and at first she struck me as one of those party-girl types. She was chic, hip and she had her boyfriend wrapped around her pinkie so I branded her 'too cool to be
friendly with people who don't belong to her group'. That turned out to be one of the biggest
mistakes I've ever made in UP. Because yes, she does have great style and she does hang out with her own crowd most of the time but she isn't stereotypical. If she was stereotypical would she give a diabetes-ridden, half blind old man a large fraction of her free time? Would she give him PhP 50.00 for his insulin fund even though she only had PhP 100.00 with her? Would she buy the same man a hotdog because she pitied him so much? Seriously, if she was shallow she wouldn't have walked into the dorm crying because she pitied the guy so much. And although other people were amused after listening to her story I must say I was deeply touched. Like seriously, hello?!?!?! How many people do that nowadays? At least now I know why her boyfriend's so in love with her. :D

Bottom line? The love of money destroys most of us but it also brings out the best in some of us. Sometimes, when there's money, there's love and usually that's the best combination there is.


Toodles! Poof...


P.S.
Cris Mendez is on the cover of The Collegian. We attended the protest that was held on the AS Steps for him, you know, and I was depressed when they started talking about his achievements. He could have contributed so much to the society and yet... Well, sayang lang jud. Really.

the cat that chased its tail

I didn't capitalize anything in the title because capitalizing titles has always bothered me.

Inyhoo, that's what I can relate to best at this moment. The cat that chased its tail. I suppose it's normal for anyone, especially a college freshie like me, to feel this way - lost, confused, tired for reasons no one can explain. Our second long exam for Econ 11 is tomorrow but here I am, surfing the net as always, trying to find mini online games for Sims addicts, and updating my Friendster profile. Tsk, tsk, tsk. It's a pity the rest of the world hasn't discovered my existence yet. The UN could declare me international poster girl for the manana habit. I'm sure I'd be an instant phenomenon. :D

That's all for now. I've got to get out of this net cafe before I sense the urgent desire to do something detrimental like watch Part 3 of Battle Royale in crunchyroll.com.

Toodles! Poof...

Random Question:
What is the formal name of eye bags?

Oh, Joy.

How ambivalent. I just survived my first Math midterms; I should be celebrating by wasting all my cash on hours of non-stop Internet action. But nooooooooo, Fate is just so cruel. I feel very very bad trip. There's something horribly wrong with my printer so now I've got to print everything in Greenshoppe, my face after-school tambayan. Why can't I just save it in my USB, you ask? The answer: My USB's gone whacko, as in so totally bonkers. It has transformed into a practically useless device that ought to be plugged, not into a port, but into the nearest toilet bowl. Uuurgh.

Pardon. I don't mean to be so bad-vibed today.

...

Uuurgh!!!!!!

Toodles! Poof...

P.S. On the plus side, I guess Math was okay. Sort of compensation, I guess.

Three Inches and Murder

Office girls are cheaters. They don't actually wear heels on their way to work; they wear slippers. When they get to their office they just hide in a bathroom cubicle and switch their Havas (Havaianas or Havanas, take your pick) for sassy stilettos. And voila, they transform from average commuters to sweat-free desk ladies.

Sigh. No one warned me not to wear those heels on the way to Ortigas.


It started with a reference. I was invited to attend a job orientation for a multinational wellness company so I went to Pasig, my two super supportive friends Trisha and Sunshine in tow. We left the dorm at 1.30 pm and got to Octagon Centre at 2.45. Metro Manila's traffic is not to blame for our 'lateness' because we just got lost and had to walk around the SM Megamall area to 'manually' search for the building. When we actually got there, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the sophistication of the place so I dragged the gang to mini stop, where I got some badly needed sugar comfort in the form of choco Cream-o's. Once I had regained my 'poise' I dragged them back to
the 15th floor. Then I met the person who invited me to attend the orientation in the first place.

And just in case anyone is curious, the one who invited me and the one who recommended me both knew I was - I am - only sixteen years old.

To make the five-hours story short, I was sorely tempted by the 5K to 15K monthly income. For one thing, I am positive I was not recruited for a scam and for another thing, the company only needs 8 to 10 hours of a person's week. However, I am not totally inclined to join because 1) the hiring system is terribly complicated, 2) I'm just a minor, for Pete's sake, and 3) I don't have 12,600.

It's up to you to analyze that but that's the gist of our Ortigas escapade.

Toodles! Poof...
sandybeaple

The 12:00 Habit

It's been a very long weekend, no thanks to the super typhoon Egay. Because of this all of us here in Kalayaan have been lazy, too lazy to even feel the need to open a notebook and study for the Math17 midterms this Wednesday. Oh well. It's not our fault we've been stuck in the dorm for six consecutive days.


Lately my everyday morning routine has gone like this: I hear my phone ringing shrilly and I wake up for just a few seconds to check the time and involuntarily decide it's way too early to be up and about. Then I go back to sleep. I wake up again about two to three hours later, truly awake this time. I glance at my watch, realize I've overslept again and wonder why on Earth I didn't hear the alarm. Most of the time this scene takes place at 12:00 noon so I call this the twelve o'clock habit. I wake up late because a growing teen needs ten hours of sleep each night to stay healthy. On normal days when I'm not sick, stressed by school work or plagued by insomnia I stay up until about two or three in the morning. When I feel tired already I just hop into bed and fall asleep effortlessly. But yesternight and the night before that I was such a wimp and I just couldn't fall asleep.

Chakushin Ari Final, probably the worst horror movie I've ever watched, was the reason I couldn't sleep two nights ago. It wasn't scary at all but it freaked me out and I kept imagining luminous Japanese girls showing up in elevators and coughing up red jawbreaker look-alikes. So yes, I was incapable of sleeping with the silence and dimness of the dorm. I had to hook myself to Brgy LS, a radio station, so I could feel safe enough to fall asleep.

And yesterday Roshy, Jane and I went to Ateneo to meet Mary and Jen, two of our high school friends. We toured Trinoma, which is so crowded, and Eastwood, which is definitely a beautiful, expensive, amazing, expensive, brilliant, expensive place. When night fell we went back to the ADMU campus, watched T-girl eat her dinner and got round to telling each other ghost stories. And then Jen told this really creepy story that was wholesome compared to other stuff I've read but truly spine-chilling all the same - at least for the scaredy cat called me.

There is a place in the campus called Bellarmine Hall (in case I haven't spelled it correctly at least you know I'm not an Atenean) and it is rumored that at night, a lady pops up in the third floor of that building and waves hi to passersby. Apparently, the person she waved at must wave back or else she'll suddenly appear beside the ingrate and demand a sufficient reason for his or her impoliteness. And if you're too scared to think properly or just aren't creative enough she'll make you regret you ever passed by Bell that night.

What would you say to her if she suddenly swooped down from her perch to interrogate you?

'Egay heads north, gathers strength'

Because of this thing I can't go to school properly when, for the first time in my life, I want to. CHED has declared 'walang pasok' so even UP has to give in even though the sun's shining like a bald man's head here. It's funny that when CHED tells us not to hold classes the sun's up and when we're supposed to go to school it rains like mad. Hmmmm. It could be a sign of something.


But I really must dash now. It's nearly eight and my 'informal' schedule for dinner is seven pm. Time flies. :D

Toodles! Poof...
sandybeaple


Eist, pipz :D

I'm back to blogspot, where my first blog emerged. It was called beingbeaple then but that was eons ago. Even if I wanted to revive it I can't because I've forgotten the password.

septembersummer came out of nowhere. It is NOT an allusion to something tragic I've experienced as a child. I wasn't born yet when Martial Law broke out.