Rambling

Just speaking my mind.

I can't seem to write in the afternoons. Not in this heat. Not without taking a bath. Not in this semi-silence, punctuated by birds chirping and the occassional motorcycle's brooom and the sound of my little neighbors playing.

I'm rambling.

I've finished 133 chapters of Fairy Tail. And now, I have to wait. Wait for the next chapter. I'm one of those people who dislike waiting, I realize. I usually want things when I want them. I have little self-discipline. It all boils to that.

But wait I shall.

Every morning, I wake up and the first thing on my mind is that I have got to start reviewing my anatomy lesson. Reviewing isn't even the term. My tuition seems such a waste, considering the fact that I seem to have learned so little in the first year of med school.

Study. That's what's always uppermost in my mind. I really must be a nerd. There's no escaping the truth.

But I'm a lazy nerd. I'm a fan of procrastination. And the days go marching by, slowly it seems, lazily almost... but then I'll get the shock of knowing the time is up.

My time is almost up.

Yeah. I'm not making too much sense right now.

:)

A Piece of my Life

It has stopped raining. Outside, the frogs are croaking themselves hoarse in a beautiful, froggy symphony.



Mama's asleep in her room. My brother just woke up. He had fallen asleep in the sofa, waiting for me to finish my turn using the internet.



There's a "platito" beside the laptop, displaying the remains of a piece of carrot cake mama bought this afternoon.



:)

Papa.

Papa.

I think it's sad that we have learned to live without him around. I "think" it's sad. I don't "feel" sad. I'm objectively speaking. And that makes it sadder.

My papa is a seaman. My childhood was punctuated with his absence and his presence. But when we got older, the absence became greater. We learned to adapt until his absence became the norm.

In fact, it now feels a little crowded whenever Papa is home.

If he had been a better husband, maybe things would have been different. Maybe we'd have been what a family is supposed to be.

As it is, we've given him so many chances that we're... tired. It's getting harder to give him the benefit of the doubt.

That was what I was thinking early this afternoon.

But then again, after Papa called and gave some lame excuse as to why an unknown woman was texting my mother rather obscene stuff, I still felt for him.

In the end, he's still my father. Mama doesn't love him. My younger brother and sister are both indifferent. I'm on my way to being indifferent. But then I hear his voice and I can't help but love this imperfect man who is partly responsible of bringing me here on earth.

Kids

My classmate from kindergarten has an adorable, 2-year old boy. He's also married and there's another baby on the way. Some of my other classmates from grade school and high school also have kids now. And I'm willing to bet that practically all of my former classmates have, or have had, relationshps.

Which makes me feel rather... old.

I'd like to have my own kids.

But the way I look at it, I'd be lucky to get into relationship by graduation. And besides, I don't plan on getting married right after graduation. During residency perhaps? Or maybe after. *Sigh*

Kids are out of the question for now. But I do hope I'd have my own family by early thirties.

Hehe. I know. I'm thinking waaay ahead.

But then again, something struck me this afternoon. Why hurry? Things will come in its own time. There's no need to rush into a relationship... into marriage... into family life. Because if I do, I'd look back and regret not being able to enjoy the blessings of being young, single and free.

.xoxo.

Change

On three separate occasions, I was told that in the five years since high school, I haven't changed at all.

Physically, that is.

I haven't grown a single centimeter since first year high school. (I stopped growing after 5 feet.) And thanks to my unhealthy lifestyle (... the abnormal sleeping and eating pattern common to nursing and medical students...), I've managed to stay within 100-110 lbs, which happens to be my high school weight, as well.

Also, my fashion sense has only improved minimally. Which means I'm still the t-shirt-and-jeans girl I was way back then. Plus I've never really learned to use make-up. I'm guessing that these things help make me look a whole lot younger than I really am.

I'm actually flattered.

But then, the change (or the lack of it), is not only skin deep. I'm still pretty much the same girl who graduated in high school. More or less.

I still LOVE watching cartoons and japanese anime. I still love books. I still don't have a boyfriend. I'm still a fashion disaster. I'm still the simple girl who enjoys the simple things in life.

To say that I haven't changed at all may be a bit extreme. No change equals rigor mortis, after all. The four years of nursing and my one year of med school were not a total waste.

But I guess what I'm happy about is the fact that I've retained the good things I love about me.

And that's a good thing.

Feelings

Today, I feel rejected. It's natural. I won't elaborate. I won't blame. It's just a fact.

The Slightest Pang of Regret

He used to be this tall, rather cute, skinny kid. He was, in many ways, an ideal guy. Smart, talented, funny. But I didn't fall for him. And I broke his heart.

Five years later.

Five years can do a lot. And suddenly, he's this new person. The same, in many ways. But more mature. More grown-up. And well, yeah. Cuter. But the real difference go way beyond the external.

And suddenly, I'm looking at him with new eyes.

Still, it was awkward. But then I've always been an awkward person. I could never really look at him at the eye. Never really bring myself to talk to him with ease. Between us is the past. The hurt is, I believe, forgiven and forgotten. But that certain wall still exists.

But maybe it's just me.

I felt the slightest pang of regret. And what-could-have-beens played in my head.

But as I look back now, with a clearer perspective, I realize that if I could go back, my decision would be the same. He'd still be the boy he was and I'd still be the girl I was.

But maybe, if I could go back, I'd be less thoughtless... inflict less hurt...

Fun with Old Friends

I was stepping off the "pot-pot" (note: a mode of transportation common in my hometown) when two motorcycles screeched to a halt behind me.

Old friends.

In no time at all, I was "kidnapped" (with consent) and found myself in a small, beautiful seaside resort.

There were around ten of us, more or less. We were all high school friends. Some of us go a long way back... as far as kindergarten.

We splashed around, laughed a lot, updated each other with our lives (and the lives of other people as well), ate junk food, and reminisced the good times.

The truth is, I'm mildly surprised. Surprised that I had fun. Because these people were not the people I hang out with back in high school.

These people were the fun lovers. The party people. I, on the other hand, was a more serious person. The stay-at-home type (because my parents are strict and do not allow me to go out after dark). And the people I used to hang around with were more or less of the same feather.

So although these were my friends, they were not "my crowd." And though I'm friendly and moderately sociable, I usually feel awkward and uncomfortable around other people.

I didn't feel that way this afternoon. I had a blast.

My world is expanding.

Heartbroken

I am such an anime freak. It's one of my eccentricities. It keeps me young at heart.

But then again, sometimes, I get really attached to characters. And when they don't get their happy endings, I get terribly heartbroken.

I finished the last episode of Kuroshitsuji this morning. I'll probably mourn for Ciel Phantomhive for a few more days.

I hate sad endings. But it's usually the sad, poignant, painful endings that make the most lasting impression.

Kuroshitsuji ("Black Butler") is about a young boy (Ciel Phantomhive) who sold his soul to the devil to get revenge for the death of his family.

The plot has an underlying dark theme. And yet there are light, comical moments. (The other servants in the household are all terribly useless.)

Sebastian, the Butler, was perfectly devoted to his young master. He has saved him more than once. As the Queen's Watchdog, it was Ciel's job to rid London of its unsavory characters: gangsters, drug dealers, Jack the Ripper, etc. etc.

Having sold his soul to the Devil, Ciel is impure, blemished. And yet, he has a lot of redeeming qualities. And you can't help but feel for the young, fragile boy who, consumed with hatred, carried such a heavy burden and yet at the same time, was worthy of love.

I thought it was going to be a Redemption story. I wanted it to become a redemption story. But I did not write this story.

In the end, he died and Sebastian took his soul.

I am mourning for him.

It was unwise of me to finish this anime. My gut feeling told me not to. It was too dark.

And yet...

It isn't supposed to be that way. It isn't that way. I believe in Salvation. I believe in the Blood of the Lamb. I believe in a Love that seeks the lost lamb. I believe, that even the damned, will never be beyond Redemption.

LOVE is...

LOVE IS…
February 14, 2009

Love is patient…

This afternoon, I walked in the rain.
I raised my face into the sky and enjoyed the moment.
Why do we hate getting wet so much?
Perhaps we’ve forgotten how it feels
to dance in the rain.

Love is kind…

But today is Valentine’s Day.
It should have been bright, and sunny and full of cheer.
And as the rain continue to fall,
I wonder if people found Love enough
to warm their hearts.

It is not jealous…

I often wondered what it was like
to love and be loved in that special way.
Everyone’s talking about it.
And I sit and listen and hear them talk,
Having no stories of my own to share.
And I often wonder why…

It is not pompous…

Why am I not loved?
in that special way?
Why am I left behind, wondering and waiting…
Doubt and envy gnaws my heart.
I am not beautiful enough
To capture the heart of any man.

It is not inflated…

So every Valentine’s day, I watch them
People in two’s… People in love…
I watch them buy roses and give chocolates
I watch them walk with hands entwined
And I ask…

It is not rude…

Where are you?
I listen for your footsteps…
For the sound of your voice…
For I believe that the moment I lay my eyes on you,
I’ll know.
Have I not been waiting all my life?
But the silence mocks me.

It does not seek its own interests…

And then I met the Lord.
And He made me new.
And I gave Him my heart.
It was not a difficult decision to make.
No man had laid a claim.
So I gave it to Him gladly, without second thoughts…
I was happy, content…

It is not quick-tempered…

And more Valentine’s Day came.
But my heart was safe…
Secure…
For I knew that all things will come
Even love
In its own time.

It does not brood over injury…

But as the days and months and years passed
My promise became a chain
A burden… A room that boxed me in…
And more than once I wanted to break free…

It does not rejoice over wrongdoing…

At times it was a mask…
An excuse for being “loveless” for so long…
I was trapped in a lie.
Choice no longer had anything to do with it.
I was alone because nobody came.

But rejoices with the truth…

Often it was a face that turned my head
And the faces since then had not been a few
And some would break my heart a little
And some would just fade away…
And still I remain the same.

It bears all things…

The rain has stopped falling now.
It is Valentine’s Day.
And my heart is at peace.
For though I faltered
Though my love failed
More times than I can count
His love did not.

Believes all things…

I remember why I gave Him my heart in the first place.
And I remember the joy
Of what it means to truly be in love
My heart longs for that Love again

Hopes all things…

My love for Him is but a flickering flame,
But the fact that it flickers still
Is a testament in itself
Of the Love that would not let go.

Endures all things…

I wait for those footsteps still…
I wait for the heartbeat whose rhythm matches mine
And I try to grow in grace
To be ready for the love that was meant for me
before the beginning of Time.
But human love may elude me
And maybe it will not come.
Still, this I hold true...

Love never fails.

I am loved.

Aerlinniel-Alassiel

My elvish name.

Happy Friday the 13th

It's Friday the 13th.

Outside, the rain is falling in torrents and dark clouds are blotting out whatever stars are left. The weather's perfect.

I happen to actually like Friday the 13th, not because I'm morbid, but because most people don't like it. So okay... I may be borderline morbid.

Tomorrow is Valentine's. And although today's Friday the 13th and although it's raining, my heart is still at peace. There will be no roses for me tomorrow... no chocolates, no poems... But no sadness pierces my heart. No bitterness poisons my soul. And no face haunts my dreams.

I believe it's a special grace for it takes grace to not long and wish for what others already have and to be content to wait patiently. So wait I shall. There will be many more Valentine's Day for me. And though maybe the next few Valentine's will be a repetition of tomorrow, my heart is secure.

A Shiny Moment

It's one of those out-of-the-blue moments... like a bright ray of sunlight on a cloudy day. And I'll keep the memory, although it means nothing to him and to me it is but a half-wish that I've long given up on.

He was the first who caught my eye, a long time ago it seems now. But I got through that unscathed and he blended right back into the background... a face in the crowd.

This afternoon, as I was flipping through the pages of a newspaper, he approached, asking teasingly how much I charged for tutorial sessions. He wanted to borrow the newspaper so I handed it to him. As he flipped through the pages, he caught sight of an ad about an OR in a prestigious hospital.

"That's you," he said, pointing to the female surgeon. "That's me," he added, pointing to the male surgeon beside her.

I looked at the picture and I felt that ray of sunshine. But it was not without a touch of sadness. That picture will be the only place we'd be together. And it wasn't even us.

It takes so little for me to stir up a dream. But I don't have my head in the clouds. And although at odd moments, I do wish his girlfriend would hurry up and become a beauty queen and leave him (note: she is a ravishing beauty), I know very well where I stand.

The dead embers, which sparked for the briefest of moments, died again.

And all is well.

Note to Self

He passed me by a couple of times today, and it's both with sadness and relief, that I realized that he no longer affects me that way. ("He" is another Biblical character in my series of one-sided romances.)

It gives me a new perspective into things, not just in the romance department but everything in general.

Everything shall come to pass, all in its due time. Heartaches will fade and wounds will heal. And new things will come that will bring the heart all the more happiness because of the pain endured. So no matter what darkness one endures, there's always the lingering hope of tomorrow.

There's never a need to despair, no matter how grim the circumstance.

Pre-Valentines Rambling

Three more days till Valentine's, the day of hearts and chocolates and roses. I'm very mildly surprised that I'm not griping about the fact that I haven't made much progress in the Romance Department since Kindergarten.

As I said, it doesn't bother me much. I'm glad.

I don't know how I'll feel in the next few days. Maybe that touch of melancholia will visit me again. Maybe I'll pine for that someone I've never met again. But for now, I'm content with the way things are.

I've given my heart in Jesus's keeping. I'm pretty sure He'll know what to do with it.

But being me, it can't be helped that more often than not, I'd rather have things my own way. So it can be rough sailing most of the time.

It so happens that Valentine's Day falls on a Saturday. And for the next few months, there'll always be one person I'll look forward to seeing again. My Shepherd Boy.

So really. I don't know how I'll feel this Valentine's.

Last Saturday was rather heart-rending and I don't know if this Saturday will be better. But I'm healing well, ever since I offered my heart in Jesus's keeping. And whatever it is that I felt for him... it's fading.

So I trust that all will end well.

Returning to my First Love

Yesterday, I went through the pangs of heartache. No matter how silly and inconsequential the reason, a heartache is still a heartache. There's no reasoning with how you feel, even if you don't rightly understand why.

I don't understand why. My head tells me I'm overreacting. I agree with my head, 90%. But that did not make the hole in my heart go.

Walking home, I hugged my chest. A futile effort to fill the emptiness I had been feeling.

But the best thing about heartaches... about feeling a hole in your heart... is that you're driven to your knees.

There's a hole in my heart. And not even a Shepherd Boy can fill it.

Everything I've been going through right now... the emptiness, the melancholy, the low self-esteem, the sense of unworthiness to be loved... all stems from my turning my back on the Lord.

I want to return to my first love. Human loves will be given to me and I am still hoping in my heart of hearts to meet my Heart's Desire soon. Really soon. But human loves will never be enough. And without my First Love, even human love will falter.

I was brought back to a message that brings me comfort.

"Find your delight in the LORD,

who will give you your Heart's Desire."
Psalm 37:4

My heart is glad. I'm rediscovering my First Love and finding delight in the love of my God.

And as I was going to sleep, I received a text message from a friend, a confirmation that God speaks to me still and that He knows what I'm going through right now.

This is the text message:

1st Corinthians 13:4-7

The right thing at the wrong time,

is always the wrong thing.

Don't be too impatient.

Learn to wait.

A Stolen Poem

Copied this from somebody. Speaks volumes.

Yet regardless if you love them,hate them,

wish they would die

or know that you would die without them

it matters not

Because once in your life,

whatever they were to the world

they become everything to you.

When you look them in the eyes,

traveling to the depths of their souls,

and you say a million things

without trace of a sound,

you know that your own life is inevitable

consumed within the rhythmic beatings of his very heart.

We love them for a million reasons,

no paper would do it justice.

It is a thing

not of the mind

but of the heart.

A feeling.

Only felt.

Musings on a Saturday Morning

I’m living in a fast lane. The whole week went by in a blur. Most of the time, the only thing I could think of was the next Saturday evening, which happens to be a few hours away as of the moment.

I know I’m thinking of him more than I ought. And I’m building castles in the air. At least I know for a fact that they are castles in the air and nothing more. Knowing that at least, is a bit of wisdom. Or maybe it makes me all the more a fool. But then again, the wise man and the fool are often the same person.

One day I’ll look back and smile at it all. Maybe I’ll laugh at my foolishness. Or maybe I’ll wince with the pain of remembering.

I wonder if I’ll ever break free of this certain pattern my life’s going through. It’s getting all too familiar. And a little sad and pathetic.

They say repeated experiences have but one aim... to teach a lesson. I wonder if I’ll ever learn.
Right now I’m wondering if he remembers my name. And I wonder what I’ll say if he doesn’t. Maybe I’ll just introduce myself for the third time and hope I don’t have to do it again.

He’s just a boy. Chronologically, I’m but a few, negligible years older. But in so many ways, I am decades older. But then again, I don’t really know.

He’s just a boy. That thought rings in my head at odd times throughout the day, like a discordant note in a beautiful symphony. It brings me back to the sobering reality.

Ah, but acting the fool is fun. It takes a certain kind of heroism to make oneself vulnerable. And the happiness of the fleeting moment might last a lifetime and make me smile when I’m old and gray.

Somebody once said, “If you don’t act foolish while you’re young, you’ll have nothing to smile about when you’re old.”

I wonder if it's really worth it.

Random Thoughts

I wonder why it is that people are afraid to show they care. Or maybe it's just me in particular.

In my case, I think it has something to do with my mother always telling me to keep my feelings to myself... to never show the object of my affection how I feel... Because if he knew and did not feel the same way, it would be embarrassing.

And she's right. Almost always. That's how I managed to keep much of my pride intact during the course of my luckless romantic life.

But then again... at moments like this... I wish I had enough courage, not to shout my feelings at the rooftop for all the world to hear (I'm not that stupid), but just enough to let him know that he has a place in my heart.

I'm Getting A Car!!

Yesterday, I needed to go to my friend's house for our Research. Normally, I don't think twice about going out at night. However, my father's here and although I could always just go without asking permission, I wasn't comfortable with the thought. It must have something to do with all those years spent always asking my parent's permission.

Of course my father didn't want me to go and I had to convince him I absolutely had to go. So in the end, he took me there and told me to text him later on so that he would be able to come and get me.

So okay. I'm almost 22. But things like that don't actually register in parental minds. To papa, I'm still a little girl.

But the good thing which came out of asking parental permission is that he has decided to buy me a car.

Yipee!!

He told me that he realized how dangerous it was for me to be going out at night. I suppose he finally realized that I really do need to go out at night every once in a while. I'm not a party girl but being a medical student, it can't be helped.

So I'll have to start learning how to drive this summer and I might get a car this June.

*happy sigh*

Be Careful With the Signs

Getting what happened a few hours ago out of my mind is a very difficult thing to do. I have successfully wiped the stupid smile off my face and now I’m trying not to hit my head in the wall for being so stupid and pathetic.

I wonder if I was transparent. It certainly feels that way.

If there’s one thing I learned from my last “foolishness”, it’s to pay attention to details and not to dramatize and put my own interpretation to the little things.

Truth is, after finding he was younger, I really did decide just to let him be. But he looked so alone in the corner. He didn’t have anybody to talk with. And being a foreigner, I believe it might be extra hard for him. I didn’t want him to feel lonesome or out-of-place or anything.

So I tried chatting with him for a bit.

And here’s one important thing. He forgot my name. And I wonder if he’ll remember it by next week. So much for impressions. One thing for sure, I didn’t stick in his mind that much at all.

My facilitator was in the other end of the hall and I didn’t want her to get ideas. So I excused myself and went to her. She asked me about the boy. And I replied about him being a volunteer.
I saw Jess, the little girl I befriended (who teased me about him), go over. They talked a little and I certainly hope she didn’t say something incriminating. You can’t trust little girls to be discrete.

As I said, I stayed away. And felt guilty about it because he still looked alone and I was his only sort-of-friend there. I tried my very best to completely ignore him. Not that I succeeded. And I certainly don’t think it bothered him the least.

But at the end, when I was going home, I really wonder what he was thinking about. I wonder what his impression of me was. I think my walking too slowly and checking my phone and turning around and greeting him was too TRANSPARENT. Geez. I’m not a pro at these things.

Uggh! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

But he did catch awfully fast. But it’s just me making a big deal out of nothing.

And I remember that it was only me doing most of the asking. He did ask me where I lived. But that’s out of politeness, I’m sure.

The silence was pretty uncomfortable. That’s why I talked a lot.

Most of the time, when I looked up, it was his profile that I saw. Meaning, he didn’t really look at me that much when he was talking. But then again, most of the time, I wasn’t looking at him. So call it quits.

I really do want to bang my head on the wall. I feel… foolish. Like a high school girl.

Argh!!! I don’t know what to do next week. Will I talk to him? Will I ignore him to make up for talking with him this week?

What unnecessary bother this whole business is.

I'm Giddy Happy. I'm Pathetic.

So I saw Shepherd Boy again. And he's exactly that. A boy. And I knew this because I checked the registration sheet and discovered the year he was born in.

For the record, any member of the male species born anytime after I was born is still a boy. And I'm two years and five months older than he is.

I'm pathetic. I'm also giddy happy and it takes self-control to keep from breaking into a big, goofy smile. Yeah. I'm pathetic.

He was by himself when I saw him. He looked... well... alone. His friend wasn't around. I inwardly debated if I would go and approach him or just let him be. In the end, I did. Just for a while. I greeted him, asked if his friend was around, how the orphanage was... small stuff. Oh, and yeah. He forgot my name so I told him again.

Then I ungracefully made my exit to go to my facilitator who was at the other end of the hall.

But before that, I learned he's a Catholic.

I didn't stay with him during worship because if I did, I would have had a very, very hard time concentrating on things that mattered. I might as well have saved myself the effort because I still thought of him a lot. Darn it. I was aware... too aware... of his presence just behind me.

I had to meet my father for dinner so I went home right after. And well... I did seriously inwardly debated if I would go walk with him.

I went to the exit but he checked out one of the booth first. So to buy him a little time, I answered my father's call and walked very, very, very slowly. When he was about two meters away, I turned, said hi and walked with him.

We talked a bit. If he missed his parents. If he went to Sinulog. If he's coming to Summer camp. Small things.

I told him about me taking up medicine and he says he might study either Medicine or Physics when he gets back to Europe.

Okay. Just my luck. I meet an absolutely gorgeous young man who comes from an interesting part of the world, who's Catholic, who's volunteering in an orphanage, who plays the piano, plays soccer and might go into medicine. Oh, and he's a few years younger.

He's like... my dream guy in the flesh. Almost.

You don't meet a guy like that everyday. At least I don't.

But then again, even without the age thing, he will never be for me. Because:

1. I have a commitment.

2. He's a foreigner.

3. He'll go home in a few months.

4. He might have a girlfriend!!!

5. He's too gorgeous!!! And I'm me... plain, simple, uninteresting.

So... even without the age thing (my mother, by the way, is two years older than my father), there's no reason a guy like that would ever, ever fall for a girl like me.

Shepherd Boy

For anonymity's sake, let's call him Shepherd Boy. (*hint, hint*)

I might be seeing him tonight and I'm not exactly sure if I'll have the courage to go and say hi... and sit beside him later on. I tried to play it out in my head: the different possible scenarios, what I'm going to say, what he might say, what I might answer in reply. (Yeah, I'm crazy. And I self-talk a lot.)

But in all probability, I would just "hide". I'm that kind of person. I am painfully shy.

One of my BFFs mentioned to me that it had been a long time since she had been "foolishly giddy". My last time was around two weeks ago, when I first met Shepherd Boy. But before that, it was a long, long time.

So I hope I do get to talk with him again, even at the risk of him thinking that I like him. Which is somewhat true, if truth be told.

But what the heck! He'll be going home in a few months time, anyway.

Stardust

The block practical exam got me so depressed that I knew I needed serious cheering-up. One of my dearest friend gladly let herself be dragged along. We went to the mall, ate fries and coke float and then checked-out the latest (well... it was latest for me anyway) bookstore in town.

Heaven!

I have found a "Happy Place".

There's nothing like roaming through rows and rows of books to lift a disheartened spirit. It was such a joy! I could spend hours reading the back cover and choosing books I would have wanted to buy if I had money to spare.

I knew I couldn't leave without buying something. And so for the very first time, I bought myself a novel. At first, I thought about buying Madeleine L'engle's "A Swiftly Tilting Planet" because that was the only book in the series I haven't read yet. But then I stumbled upon "Stardust".

There was a movie adaptation of the book but I wasn't able to watch it. The book was perfect! I loved it. It had just the right elements: romance, humor and magic. It was the perfect fairy tale for me.

Needless to say, I've always been the whimsical kind and even at this age, I still love fairy tales.

I savored every word and didn't stop reading until the last page. Every cent I paid was worth it. My bout of melancholy was lifted up.

And maybe it's not related to Stardust, but strangely enough, I haven't had bouts of melancholia lately. I'm still searching for my Heart's Desire. But there's no longer that touch of despair that was getting quite familiar. My life's taking on a monotonous turn but I'm hopeful still.

PS. Changed my template again. Love the Falling Stars. Would have wanted a more cheerful background though.

The Joke's On Me

Okay. This is still along the guy-in-green-after-the-50th-red-volkswagen. Another category would be finding-my-soulmate.

I would have settled with David. I mean, since the whole thing is basically a whimsical nonsense, I might as well settle on the guy-of-my-dreams type. David fits the role almost to perfection although the only thing I know about him is that he teaches piano and soccer to orphans.

But then, it wasn't a sure thing because his t-shirt was a murky greenish-brownish color and I can't quite tell who talked to who first. But I have set my heart on him being my soulmate. However...

I breezed into the the classroom for our lecture and settled myself in my usual seat near the front. The doctor who was going to do the lecture asked me if we were section A and I replied in the affirmative. Twenty minutes into his discussion, it suddenly struck me with blinding clarity that he was wearing a GREEN polo shirt... an undeniably GREEN polo shirt. And yeah, he talked to me first.

I was horrified. And at the same time, the irony of it didn't escape me.

How could I have not noticed??? But the thing is, I really didn't. The fact that he was in green, for some reason, did not register in my head. Was I too confident in having found David?

After going to great lengths in avoiding every single green-shirted guy, this is what happens. The joke's on me.

Okay. So the fact that the guy is a cardiothoracic surgeon didn't escape my notice, especially since that's the field I want to go into. It also didn't escape my notice that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring and that he was in his thirties.

But... he wasn't my dream guy. Didn't even come close. Besides, he could have been married and had kids for all I know.

My friend and I laughed our heads off afterwards. The whole thing was rather comical.

So that's it. But I'm still stubbornly sticking to wishful hopes of half-European kids with curly brown hair.

Soulmate Found??

I know. I know. I know.

I know it's just an urban legend... a myth for romantic fools. I know it's not real. I know. Boy, do I know it.

But... can I just make believe it's real? Can I just pretend... even for just a little while... that it's true?

My soulmate. The guy in green. I think I found him.

His name is David. He's German and he's volunteering in an orphanage for a year. He plays soccer. He plays the piano. Oh, and yeah. He's incredibly handsome. And that's just about it. That's all I know. I didn't get to know him very well because time was short.

That's it. That's all.

For that little while, I was strangely happy and very much distracted. I haven't felt like that for a long while. And it's a nice feeling. So whatever may happen, at least I had that.

Dare I wish for more? Not really. Only that somehow, we'd at the very least be friends.

Bad Weather

There’s something about cold weather that brings about melancholia. I’m glad I live in the tropics. I might end up suicidal if I had to go through winter seasons. Just kidding.

It’s actually a number of things that’s bringing about this sense of despondency right now. But I’d rather blame the weather. It makes things less complicated.

The wind is no longer as freezing as it was the past few days. Which is a shame because, after two days of enduring the cold, I finally brought a bright pink jacket to keep me warm… only to find that it’s no longer that necessary. Oh, well.

Trial

The court trial was yesterday. I will not elaborate. It's an ugly story. But the thing is, that particular trial has life-altering consequences for me. And I'm not even being dramatic.

When I say life-altering, I mean life-altering. I mean I might have to stop studying and support my younger sister through her last year of nursing. I mean my family could be ruined and our name shamed. I mean my father could be imprisoned.

But I don't think the possibilities have hit me yet because I'm looking at it with a strange detachment. And I'm still hopeful nothing would change at all.

The Next Best Thing

The feeling that I'm destined for single-blessedness is getting stronger by the minute. Okay. So I'm only twenty-one-turning-twenty-two. And yeah, I've never had a boyfriend before of which I don't really regret at all because I haven't met anyone who would have been perfect for the role.

I think that's the problem. I haven't met anyone. I've had dozens of crushes. But nothing along the category of true love ever came my way.

I'm not saying this single-blessedness thing is a sure thing. I'm just saying that lately, I'm getting that feeling. I could be wrong. But then again, I could be right. There's a 50-50 chance of either one occuring.

I've always wanted a family. A loving one. A God-centered one. I want a husband who's both my soulmate and my bestfriend. I want kids to love and take good care of and guide well. I want to go through the joys and hassles of being a wife and a mom.

But if I can't have them, then I'll take the next best thing... a career in cardiothoracic surgery.

P.S. I told my sister that I'll help her and my younger brother send their kids to school if I don't get any.

:)

The Other One

A few days back, my mother called and for some reason, the conversation ended up with her asking me about my lovelife. She asked me about that crush I had been telling her about. I told her of course that I was no longer interested. This is the honest-to-goodness truth. But I refrained from mentioning why. It would complicate matters and my ego is too fragile as it is.

And then for some reason, she asked me about Jacob. Jacob? Where did she get that name?
My mind went through the possibilities and I racked my brain for any incriminating evidence I could have left back at home.

And then I remembered all the Jacob Black art and pics I had downloaded from the internet.
Oh. That Jacob.

So I told my mother that Jacob was a fictional character from a book. She accepted my explanation and told me it isn’t really advisable to be too hooked on a book character. I could understand her concerns. Hehe.

But of course, there was the other one. I haven’t told her that.

New Moon News

My friend was crying her eyes out after a few chapters of New Moon. She felt Bella’s pain when Edward left.

I’ve finished reading all four books and so in one way or another, I have gotten over all of them… Bella, Edward, the Cullens, and of course, my Jacob. I remember having that heavy feeling as I read the same chapters she is reading now. But then, it was around that time that Jacob came into the picture. And when Jacob came, he brought back sunshine into Bella’s life and to a certain extent, mine.

Like every other girl, I started out as an Edward hardcore fan. Until Jacob came, of course. After that, the only thing that kept me going through chapter after chapter was Jacob. Although the whole four volumes revolved around Bella and Edward, I was only truly interested in what happened to Jacob. I was moderately devastated when Edward came back. I felt Jacob’s pain deeply. And at times, it was hard to continue reading on knowing there was more pain for him. In fact, I refrained from reading Breaking Dawn for quite some time because there was only heartache for Jacob in the first few chapters. And that was hard to read for me as well.

But then, of course, Jacob had his happy ending and everything was set to rights. And I’m happy with how it all turned out. I’m happy for Jacob and I can now have my mind set at rest. However, since they didn’t kick Taylor out of the Twilight movie sequel, my mind is no longer at rest again. As a true Jacob fan, I want him portrayed to perfection. In other words, I want Steven Strait’s face in the big screen. Even Michael Copon would do. But that wasn’t meant to be. I seriously doubt how New Moon will turn out.

In my own humble opinion, the only way the movie would work is if they develop Jacob’s character. If they can create chemistry between Jacob and Bella, it would spice things up. If they don’t, the movie would be completely flat because Edward would only be showing up at the end and the beginning. New Moon is basically about Jacob.

And I seriously doubt Taylor’s abilities. I doubt if he and Kirsten would be able to create that right balance of chemistry which would keep fans at their seat and wait to see what would happen next. I seriously doubt it.

And the truth is, I am indignant and angry. Because I love Jacob so much and I want the people to see him in a different light. There are too many Edward fans as it is.

Worldly Thoughts

Once upon a time, I was a simple, moderately uncomplicated sort of person. I was also deeply involved in ministry work in our charismatic community. I've always wanted to become a doctor and that dream didn't change. But back then, my motives were simple and my goals were noble.

I also dreamed of becoming a fulltime servant. But somewhere within the last twelve months, the dream died.

When I got into med school, I caught a glimpse of another world... another level of society. And all of a sudden, I found myself wanting things I never really wanted before. Clothes, shoes, bags, books, a car (specifically a red VW).

It's not that I've become worldly. That's what I tell myself. And I could be right. I simply want to enjoy the good things in this life.

I haven't changed much at all. I have a wardrobe that would make a fashionista weep in despair. I'm still not into make-up. I still don't drink and smoke (and I never will.)

But I dream of one day being able to buy all those things I can only look at from afar. I dream of becoming beautiful and elegant and rich someday. And it's bugging my conscience. I've been the unworldly girl for so long that it might take a while getting used to.

I guess I'm afraid that wanting these good things would somehow corrupt me and that I'd have a skewed perspective of life and enjoy this world so much I'll forget that there's a next one.

Still... I do want to get rich.

Falling

Something fell near my head this morning. I heard it drop. But because my brain is pretty much scrambled before nine a.m., I didn’t bother to look. When I finally did wake up, it was to see a one-foot plaster of paris figurine a few inches from my head.

Hmmm. I think it would have hurt if it had fallen on my head. But then again, I’ve always had a pretty thick skull so it’s anybody’s guess who among the two of us would have ended up permanently damaged.

It was a figurine my best friend got for me a long time ago. We got identical ones and painted them by ourselves. We wanted to get girl figurines but then the store ran out of stock so we got the male version instead. It was rather cute. The little guys carried half of a heart with them. The other half was with their female counterparts.

That little guy represented my soulmate… who at the moment is currently missing and is number one in the most wanted list.

But what made me smile was the realization that I painted the little guy’s long-sleeved sweater green. You see, if the myth had it right, after I counted my 50th red “pagong” (a.k.a. Volkswagen), the first guy in green to approach and talk to me is supposed to be my long lost soulmate.

I haven’t found him yet. My soulmate, I mean. The real one. The one God destined for me. And I’m getting rather impatient about it. And hopeful that I’ll find him soon.

And I don’t really put much faith in this urban myth some romantic fool had made up to pass the time away. I don’t believe that the first guy in green, whoever he is, would become my soulmate. It’s both irrational and superstitious.

But the romantic fool hidden inside me is strangely excited about finding the guy in green. And the figurine falling above my head could have been a sign. Not that I believe in signs. But still… a girl can dream, you know.

So I’m waiting still… like I always have…

PS. My soulmate, whoever he is, better have a really good excuse for being so late.

Silent Treatment

My sister is still giving me the silent treatment. Hmmm... I estimated wrong. I thought this would blow over by dinnertime.

Which is really annoying because the only reason I got mad and called her "ingrata" was because of all those "bad words" she threw at me. The story goes like this.

She was printing some stuff and asked me to take over because she needed to go downstairs. Absent-minded as I was, I graciously did as she told (like I always do) and then shoved a couple of bondpapers into the printer which caused all the bondpaper to get jammed inside. She got really mad and thus started saying some really nasty stuff. She told me that she warned me about it but that I didn't listen blah, blah, blah...

I stayed cool. I kept my temper.

But then she started saying "bad words" and that got my temper boiling.

Here I was, just trying to help. And I did got the paper unjammed after a few minutes. But she didn't stop yapping and that finally got me over the edge and I shouted at her and called her "ingrata". (ungrateful)

I cooled down after a short while, like I always do. And I waited for her to make the first move because she started it. However, she was still giving me the silent treatment so I made the first move instead and asked her if she was hungry so we could have dinner. Nada from her. So I had dinner alone.

Oh, and by the way. She spilled some Hair Treatment Cream on my bed. It was probably by accident.

But... grrrrr...

I'm getting mad. She has the nerve to get mad when she was the one who started saying bad things in the first place.

And now, I think I'm getting mad again. Grrrrrrrrrrrr.....

Random Ramblings

It's almost seven. I spent the whole day basically doing nothing, and now... I'm wasting whatever time I have left by doing... nothing.

I need to clear the cobwebs in my head again. It may help me to finally start cramming for tomorrow's exam.

So here are the threads of thought flying in and out of my head.

1. I had a fight with my sister. Again. But the difference this time is that I wasn't able to keep my temper. I raised my voice and called her an "ingrata". So now we're not talking to each other. She started it.

2. Usually, when angry, I keep my mouth shut and simmer... or boil... inside. I don't like to simmer. I don't like being always so nice. So this time, I shouted. And I don't feel too good about myself but at least I wasn't simmering. But knowing the usual pattern of our tiffs, I bet we'll be talking to each other in two hours time.

3. I actually googled the Adonis from Mount Olympus, a guy I'm calling Edward for anonymity's sake. Shame on me.

4. A guy in green was in front of our pew at mass this afternoon. Well actually, his shirt wasn't really that green. It was a striped yellow and bluish-greyish-green. But I wasn't taking any chances. So right after the singing of the "Our Father", I ungracefully made my exit and waited until after the peace-be-with-you part ended. I really am getting paranoid or something.

5. And my back is starting to ache so I guess it's about time to hit the books. During the last module quiz, I was almost sure I was going to get it perfect. Well... I barely passed. Needless to say, I was immensely frustrated.

6. Jake wore grey last Saturday. I was fervently hoping he'd wear green. So I guess I'll wait for next Saturday and every Saturday thereafter until he wears green and talks to me. Till then, I have to avoid every green-shirted guy... unless he happens to look like Edward. But I'm still waiting for Jake. He gave me an extra big wave. Not that it means something. But something is better than nothing. Hmmm... I wonder if he'll ever realize that it's me he's looking for. Probably not and I'd probably grow tired of him in a few weeks time. But till then, I can always wish.

7. I look like a maid beside Edward. Oh, geez.

8. I want a Red Beetle. I really want a car. And I don't even know how to drive. I wonder if I can get father to buy me a car. But with our current state of affairs, I don't think so. Besides, med school is super expensive and draining our financial resources already. But who knows?

9. I really want a Red Beetle. *sigh*

50th Red Pagong

Today, January 10, 2009, will forever stand out in the chronicle of my life as the day I counted my 50th red Pagong. (Note: Pagong is the Tagalog word for turtle. Here in my place, we call a Volkswagen a Pagong because of its shape.)

I first heard about counting red pagongs from my friend. According to the… er… legend… in order to find your soulmate, you have to count 50 red pagongs. And after the 50th pagong, the first person (of the opposite sex) wearing a green shirt to approach and talk to you is your soulmate.

I don’t put much stock in this particular tale. I’m too rational a human being.

But counting pagongs had been one of the joys in my life. Red pagongs are pretty rare and spotting one in the road, amidst the grime and the traffic, is like a bright ray of sunshine on a rainy day. I found an unexpected pleasure in finding pagongs at unexpected places. It made me smile and clap my hands, like a child handed a present.

So this morning, I finally counted my 50th. The truth is, I think I finished long before. My memory has never been that reliable and I was frequently counting back.

My heart jumped a beat when I saw the shiny red Beetle parked along a road. My 50th! Now all I had to do was wait for my soulmate. Not exactly an easy thing to do.

I’ve been acting pretty paranoid. I’m avoiding almost everyone wearing green in fear that they would talk to me and ruin everything. As much as I knew how silly and incredibly childish it all was, I was enough of a romantic fool to think it couldn’t hurt to pretend that the guy in green is my soulmate.

Like I always say, a girl can dream.


~January 10, 2009

Being Too Handsome Should be Punishable by Law

Because I’m searching for my soulmate, I’m currently avoiding every member of the male specimen wearing a green shirt. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. The truth is, I’m avoiding every member of the male specimen wearing green who happens to fall way below my… umm… standards.

(PS. I know I’m being mean and discriminating, but what the heck! A girl has every right to make her dream guy as perfect as possible.)

Anyway, my soulmate’s supposed to be wearing a green shirt. Why a green shirt? That is the subject of another blog entry.

So the reason my sister and I avoided eating one particular carenderia was because there was this guy wearing green. And since I’m not taking any chances at all, we decided to eat somewhere else.

On our way home, we passed by the same carenderia. And who else should be there but the most gorgeous young man I have ever seen. And I’m not even exaggerating. Oh, and yeah. He was wearing green.

I think it’s one of those cosmic jokes the universe plays on unsuspecting people every now and then.

The thing is, I know this guy. I see him almost every day because we happen to go to the same school and because he happens to be only a year ahead of me in the same course. And I’ve come to the same conclusion, that he was the most handsome person I have ever seen, a long time ago. He could have played Edward Cullen to perfection.

However, I’ve never really had a crush on him. I’ve always preferred a Jacob Black over an Edward Cullen. And I have a Jacob Black in school already.

STILL… that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the ability to take my breath away. And that’s what happened when I passed by that carenderia and saw him standing oh so casually in his green jersey with a towel slung around his shoulders.

Seriously. I personally think it’s a crime to be that handsome. People like him should wear masks so as not to dazzle ordinary mortals like yours truly.

But that’s not where the story ends.

I was so dazzled that when I judged that we were a safe distance away, I began talking about him to my younger sister. If I can recall it right, I began babbling about how unfortunate it was that we hadn’t eaten in that carenderia after all and that on second thought, the guy didn’t really know me since we weren’t friends so there’s no way he’d even say hi to me. Then I went on to say it really was a good thing we hadn’t eaten there because I saw a classmate having dinner there with a girl and I didn’t quite like that classmate because he thinks he’s so handsome and that most of the members of the female population were enamored by his good looks… blah, blah, blah…

And when my sister looked over her shoulder, who should be walking not more than 2 meters behind us but the Adonis himself. I didn’t even bother looking behind me. We were so flustered that we quickened our pace and then crossed to the opposite side of the street. I couldn’t decide if I should go hide in the nearest store or make a beeline for home.

How long had he and his friend been walking behind us??? Did he hear us talking or was he too engrossed in his conversation that he didn’t hear his name being mentioned more than once??? And the big question, did he recognize me???

For once in my life, I sincerely hope that I really was as invisible in school as my overly dramatic mind imagined. I hope that my face was really that forgettable that though we’ve once been on the same elevator and though we frequently pass each other by in the library, he wouldn’t recognize me at all.

I may never know if he heard our conversation… or if he even recognized me. Frankly, I’m not that eager to know.

Moral lesson: Don’t talk about boys in public. And handsome men should be fined, if not imprisoned, for being so dazzling.

Semi-Strangers

Just a while ago, on my way to Jollibee for dinner, I met a guy. Let's call him JC. Hmmm... I guess "met" is not the right term for this. We were just two semi-strangers who happened to pass by each other as we went our own separate ways.

He did look up at me though. But I seriously doubt if he even recognized me. It was already dark, anyhow. And besides, how do you recognize somebody you've never known?

Because the fact is, although (a) once upon a time when he was still a medical student, I (then a student nurse) assisted him in a minor operation, (b) it was through me (unknown to him) who made it possible for him to get to know my beauty queen friend, (c) we're friends in Friendster and (d) we chatted twice in YM, it doesn't change the fact that I'm more or less a complete stranger.

Well... it was a pretty mild crush and I got over it soon enough. But then I guess I'll never really forget him because he was the guy I had crush on at the time I was seriously considering a religious vocation. So he is actually one of the reasons, albeit an incredibly minor one, why I am now taking up medicine and chasing my dreams instead.

His part in my life is over. So why waste time writing about him? Because although I'm pretty sure he will forever be under the category of "old crushes", my heart did jump when I saw him. I think it was mostly due to surprise on my part. But my heart has not been doing any jumping for anybody lately so I thought it was worth writing a little about.

PS:
So, okay. I did check his Friendster afterwards and felt just a little bit relieved at the fact that he's still single. Not that I'm interested.

Marie's Birthday Part 1

My sister will be celebrating her birthday in approximately 7 hours. She's turning 19.

I love birthdays. Mine, most especially. Almost more, but not quite, than Christmas. I think it's because your birthday is YOUR DAY. YOURS. And on that day, people are extra nice to you and make it as special as possible.

And you do your best to make your day extra-extra special. So it sucks when the 12 hours of your day is spent within the four walls of your classroom. And there's still around 7 hours of sleeping. Which means you get 5 hours to make the day magical.

And it doesn't help when most of your family is far away and all you've got are friends who consider your birthday as the one day in the year that you get to treat them to dinner.

That's more or less what happened last year, on my sister's birthday. She wasn't happy at all. And if it happens again tomorrow, well...

So though my wallet's skinny, I'll try at the very least to make her a bit happy on her special day. I already bought two tiny cakes and I think I'll go out in a few minutes and buy some candles to go with the tiny cake. And if I get a little extra left, I just might be able to buy trinkets. My sister loves useless trinkets and stickers and stuff like that.

Actually, she's not that hard to please at all. It's just that few people go out of their way to please her.

Including me, if truth be told.

New Look

I love the new look of this blog. It's perfect!

Can you see that I'm just wasting my time? I should be studying now. But well, that's me. I need superhuman effort to refrain from procrastination.

First Day Reflections

1. Everything's strangely the same. The school buildings are the same. My classmates are the same. Okay, it was a different PBL Tutorial session but the atmosphere was more or less the same. Nobody looks remotely different. Except maybe Lise who had gotten bangs over December and then decided she didn't like them.

2. I was right. My "crush" was nothing more than a whimsical fancy of the moment. I think I imagined the whole thing. At the very least, it didn't survive the two-week Christmas break. So I'm back to scratch. I don't mind very much, although I know later on the monotony of it will make me blue and that would be the stimulus necessary to start for another man-hunt. However, the pickings are very slim. After 10 months, all the handsome faces have lost their ability to attract.

3. And speaking of back-to-scratch, that's what's going to happen to our research. The problem with our group is that our group leader is too nice so he let's us have a Christmas break while he does the whole thing himself. We might have gotten away with it although I do have qualms regarding the validity and reliability of the results. However, our research adviser got wind of what we did. She told us she was "almost at the point of being angry with us". Sounds like a good thing, doesn't it? It means, she's not quite in the anger stage yet. But she was very firm and told us we had to do everything again. Oh, and did I mention that we now have an extremely limited time left? There's no longer any room for any mistake.

4. Rumors from the other school. It seems as if they (my fellow first year medical students) did not have a Christmas break at all because they were studying for their unit exam. When I think of the hours I spent watching 45 episodes of bleach, Season 4 of House and Grey's Anatomy, I'm still not sure if I should pity them or myself.

5. Lyss and I are the only first year medical students left. We're in the PDR room studying. Or at least she's studying. I'm blogging. It's kind of like a loser thing to do. Studying in school during independent study time, I mean. The cool thing to do is to study at coffee shops or somewhere equally elegant and sophisticated. Oh, well. I am serious about turning over a new leaf and that includes studying during Independent Study Time.

6. I still have free access to the wifi here at school. Yipee!!!

New Blog Name

I changed the name of my blog. It's new name, plus my URL kind of gives away my identity. But then, since I'm 90% confident that the people who know me... who could possibly piece together the clues... could not possibly stumble upon this blog, my secrets are safe.

Besides, I do believe I am my only reader.

Haha.

One day, when I'm old and wrinkled, I'll read all the old entries and nod sagely at my foolishness and smile at the things that made me laugh and cry.

And I'll show this blog to my children and grandchildren and maybe, just maybe, they would get something out of my adventures/misadventures and my normal (a.k.a. boring) day-to-day life.

Extra Resolutions

These are the resolutions I failed to write about.

1. Be organized. Seriously.

2. Keep track of my money. Budget.

3. Buy myself new clothes every once in a while. I need them. I need to start learning how to look good.

4. Learn how to put on light make-up?

5. STUDY EVERY NIGHT!!! NO SLEEPING BEFORE 12 MIDNIGHT!! My study habits suck. I seriously need to work on this

6. No crushing on just anybody. Wait for true love. (Yeah... right.)

7. Get the Top 2 spot in class. (I'm realistic enough to realize I cannot catch up to the Top 1)

8. Finish my novel.

9. Hmmm.... I'm running out of resolutions.

That's it for now.

.xoxo.

Back to the Big City

Tomorrow morning, I'm going back to the Big City. My vacation days are over. I'm pretty miserable, mostly because I had been banking on two more idle days here at home. But because of the bad weather and the passenger season (I hate passenger season) and the fact that most of the ships are fully-booked, I had to get the one available at the moment.

The worst thing about this is that we'll be on a fast craft. It would probably be a good 3 hours ride. I hate fast crafts. My father is a seaman but none of us, his children, got the anti-sea sickness gene. So this means I better not eat a heavy breakfast so I wouldn't have a lot of stuff to puke out.

I don't want to go back. At least not yet. Life in the City is so fast-paced. Everything seems to move at fast forward.

I'm homesick already.

Looking Back

Yesterday was the first day of the year. So obviously, today is the second. However, as much as I wanted to write some "First Day of the New Year" reflections or something like that, I was prevented from doing so by menstrual cramps. I spent most of yesterday bent in pain and puking out my lunch and dessert.

2008 has been a pretty good year. Here are the things I wouldn't want to forget about 2008.

-the last few months of nursing student life

-16-hour straight shift and being the DR jinx

-pinning ceremony (I lost my pin later on)

-graduating cum laude

-review sessions: this includes coming in and sleeping during lectures and waking up during recess, skipping classes, Dr. Dy, skipping Frankie's lecture to watch a totally no-brainer movie, lunch at Bahay ni Kuya/Lola, topping the pre-board

-Board Exam!!!

-snagging the Top 9 spot

-MED SCHOOL!!!

-two new bestfriends and a whole lot of new friends

-Intramurals: Choir practice and choir competition, becoming an athlete for the first time in my life and getting a silver medal for the track & field, also making a fool out of myself during table tennis competion (I have never played table tennis my whole life before this)

-my first all-night party. I didn't drink a single drop of alcohol and I cried at some point during the party because I felt really miserable

-wall climbing for the first time

-attending a beach party composed of mostly third year students and actually having fun

-Medlympics! and Track & Field again...

-Marco Polo moments, McDo moments, KFC moments (I am choke!), Bo Moments...

-Simala and attending a procession (around 5km) in high heels

-Another choir competition (for Christmas); one of the most embarrassing moments of my life; I survived

-Christmas and New Year with my family

And so much more... I am excited for 2009.