Amateur Meditations

Chapter Thirty Eight

2010-05-29T00:09:00.002+08:00

I have always been the obsessive type of person – no, not obsessive compulsive. Just obsessive. I sink into total fandom. I memorize, stalk, pretend and daydream. Here is a list of all my obsessions, listed in chronological order.

Mulan
Mulan was the first movie I have ever watched in theaters. I clearly remember sitting in the last rows, munching on caramel popcorn and staring at the screen with wide, seven-year old eyes. After that, I started pretending to be Mulan. Secretly. In school, after making sure no one was watching, I would walk with my back straight, my hands folded on top of a make-believe umbrella and pretend to be on my way to the matchmaker. Mulan is still my favorite Disney movie and “Reflection” is still my favorite song of all time. Oddly enough, that song fits my life perfectly.

Ghost Fighter (Yu Yu Hakusho)
The reason why I fell in love with Ghost Fighter was because I fell in love with Hiei (Vincent). At age eight, I do believe that Hiei was my first love. He was so stoic, so unmoved, so uncaring on the outside; but in truth, he is a sensitive man who cares deeply for his sister. Oh. And he looks good and he kicks ass. My obsession went so far that I even made my own character, paired her with Hiei and wrote dozens of fanfiction involving both of them.

Pokemon
Gotta Catch 'Em All! I was already obsessed with the franchise in the first place (watched the show, read the manga, collected and played the trading card game, bought a talking Pikachu plushie) but when I got my hands on a Gameboy Color and a Pokemon Crystal cartridge, I went crazy. I loved the thought of being a Pokemon trainer and going on my own journey, even if it was only within the limits of pixel-world. I even wrote numerous fan-fiction, revolving around different trainers. Nintendo sure knows how to put a smile on my face.

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron
I don't exactly why a movie about a horse caught my attention. But I ended up pretending I was a Native American, riding a wild mustang back in the Old West (I would do so whenever I play on the swing). The most sentimental aspect of the Spirit obsession was the soundtrack. Up until now, the songs from the movie still remind me of those long road-trips my family and I took during the summer. It reminds me of grassy plains, wooded areas, blue mountains and the Delaware River. Maybe my interest in Spirit was nurtured by my interest in nature and wildlife.

NBA
This might be hard to believe, but there was a time when I lived and breathed basketball. That was in 2002. I pounced on the sports section of the newspapers, searching for the latest updates. I watched Like Mike over and over again. I played the latest NBA games on Playstation 2. I watched the games on TV and I wished (how I wished) that my parents would let me watch a Nets game. The Nets were my favorite team back then; one, because they were underdogs and two, because I lived in New Jersey. Unfortunately, the Lakers beat them in the finals (series was 4-0). Of course, I started hating on the Lakers. I remember refusing to drink Sprite just because Kobe dearest endorsed them.

Star Wars
I'm not exactly a Star Wars geek. Sure, I watched all six movies (Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi were my favorites), played more than one kind of Star Wars video-game, owned a plastic light-saber (it was blue), read Star Wars novels and even wrote fanfiction. But no, I did not memorize ALL the planets that were not included in the first six movies, nor do I know ALL the aircraft and the weapons and the robots and the characters by heart. I was obsessed, but not as much as those who have the map of Coruscant sketched perfectly in the back of their minds.

Lord of the Rings
This all began with Mr. Pierson, our English teacher in middle school. His enthusiasm for the series was so contagious that before I knew it, I had bought a copy of all three Lord of the Rings Books, plus the Hobbit and the Silmarillion. I haven't read all of them, though, because I was so mesmerized by the films. Now, Peter Jackson is a genius. The movies made me laugh, shiver, puke and cry. They made me wish I lived in Middle Earth, kicking some orc butt along with Legolas. I do believe that LOTR is my biggest obsession yet. I have done insane things such as dressing up as Arwen for Halloween, memorizing the route from Hobbiton to Ithilien, writing in Tengwar and drawing a portrait of Pippin. I do believe the only other thing I haven't done is learn how to speak Elvish fluently. Oh. And someday, I'm going to learn archery. And tour New Zealand while on horseback.

Honorable Mentions:
-Pirates (in general)
-Neopets
-Avatar: the Last Airbender
-Holes by Louis Sachar
-Treasure Planet
-G Gundam
-Dragonball Z
-Detective Conan (Case Closed)

Chapter Thirty Seven

2009-11-03T22:38:00.006+08:00

I never really thought of myself as an unlucky person.

Not until last month.

That was when my life did a cartwheel and everything became topsy-turvy. Here's why:

I. I LOST MY PENCIL CASE

I had been using that same pencil case ever since I was in 4th year high school. And apart from the 4G flash drive (which costs around P700, I think) which I left inside it, that gray case contains memories as well.

That was why I was so devastated when I realized that I had left it in History class. I never saw it again.

II. I DIDN'T GET TO REGISTER TO VOTE

This is mainly my fault. By the time I decided to pay the Municipal Hall a visit, the lines were long and unbearable. The people at the counter were impossible. The quota was filled. And the only way I could make it was for me to join the people who camped there at midnight.

So I went home and cursed my habit of procrastinating.

III. I DIDN'T GET TO PRE-ENLIST

If there's anything worse than not being able to register to vote, it is not being able to register and enroll on time. I would never forget the way the College Secretary shook her head at me disapprovingly and said those words that haunt me until now, "Late registration ka na."

This was also my own fault - for not being updated and timely.

Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve to be in U.P. I'm not at all excellent and I always have to keep up with my classmates. I feel slow, clueless and weak.

That's why up until now, my sembreak is filled with anxiety, fear and uncertainty. And what's left to do?

Well, there's only one thing left to do, actually, and that is to take all my fears, all my anxieties, and all my uncertainties and dump it on the Lord.

After all, He said, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness."

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Chapter Thirty Six

2009-09-06T21:45:00.011+08:00

The long absence speaks for itself. Unlike before, when I had all the time in world to breath and enjoy life, I haven't been able to post regularly these days due to several unavoidable changes.

THINGS THAT CHANGED

1. Residence

When I was enrolling for the first semester (of my second year), I was faced with four hours of traffic from Cavite to Manila. It was unbelievable. That's why my parents and I decided that it would be more convenient if I find myself a decent dormitory.

Dorm life is okay-ish. Since there are less distractions, I found more time to study. It also gives me more time to sleep and relax. On the downside, I am frequently homesick. At 18, I should act better, but I still crave the atmosphere specifically the fresh air of home.

2.Uniform

This is not merely a wardrobe emergency. The blue and white striped uniform also signifies duty time. I just finished community duty last week, but as tiring as it was, that was only the beginning of decades of care and service I will have to provide. The bottomline? I better get used to this. I will be doing this for the rest of my life. (Unless I retire early and go jetskiing in the Caribbean, but that's another story.)

3. Social Life

Unlike in high school, I am much quieter in college. Although I miss all the hype, I find comfort in peace and silence and "me time"- something which I had not felt since I was twelve.

THINGS THAT HAVEN'T CHANGED

1. My Sweet Tooth
Despite all the length of lectures on nutrition and the thickness of the Food Exchange List, I can't let go of my fondness for sweets. I fill my food basket with Meiji, Goya and all things sweet, rich and heavenly.

THINGS THAT I WANT TO CHANGE

1. My Grades

No matter what I do, my intelligence cannot compare to those of my classmates'. I often wonder how I got into U.P. Maybe there was ANOTHER Julienne Tingzon - member of MENSA, performs with well-known quartets, and science prodigy all in one- who is despairing right now, wondering why the hell she wasn't accepted in U.P.

I have to squeeze out an extra gallon more of effort to memorize and understand concepts that my classmates immediately remember for the rest of their lives.

2. My Relationship

..With God. I admit that there were times, PLENTY OF TIMES, when I decided to ignore His voice. There were EVEN MORE TIMES, when I failed to put my trust in Him, and lived in a dark uncertainty. I hope that slowly but surely, I will find my way back to Him.

Chapter Thirty Five

2009-04-26T15:24:00.006+08:00

Oh my nose.

I haven't blogged in such a long time. I had promised myself that I'd post an entry everyday, but I guess I wasn't being realistic then. Thoughts of hectic schedules and harrowing exams that could make your brain bleed and heart break hadn't crossed my mind.

Anyway, during my never ending journey of soul searching, I realized another trivial thing about me. Sometimes I feel fab, sometimes I feel zen.

Things I Do When I'm in the Fab Mood

I go to Booksale and other discount bookstores and buy year-old teen magazines(because they're cheaper)and spend the rest of my day "getting inspired" creatively.

I would go online and check out fashion blogs, celebrity gossip blogs and the such, trying to boost the glamorous vibe.

I would make a list of things I want to buy - from a Blackberry (or any other phone that has built in wifi) to a nice patterned top from Kamiseta to bronzers.

Things I Do When I'm in the Zen Mood

I go outside, grab my bike and ride around the neighborhood. If it weren't for the factory that coughs out toxic gases nearby, I could pretend I was cycling in the countryside somewhere in Tennessee.

I grab something refreshing, like a cup of ice cream or a small plate of my sister's chocolate chips and read a book.

I would go take my dog for a walk.

Anyway, I decided to change my layout to something wispy and elegant. I realized that my overall taste for things is always changing. Maturing? Improving? I don't know. I remember the time when I was into anything grunge rock, then I turned pirate, then I went Kawaii. Now, I'm a little floral...

Chapter Thirty Four

2009-01-01T01:08:00.006+08:00

I've been so preoccupied with trivial things this holiday (i.e. PSP games like Bomberman, watching the Avatar finale, shopping, baking and cooking) that I hadn't had time to do the more important things (i.e. studying, MMDST).

I also hadn't had time to think up something worthy of writing about.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Chapter Thirty Three

2008-12-02T19:33:00.011+08:00

Lazy people, like me, like to think – usually about things that could make life more convenient for us. I know it sounds a bit pessimistic, especially with the rise of technology and the emergence of cool gadgets (like my favorite – the vacuum cleaner). Life is already convenient, I know, but nobody said you can’t wish for something even better.

As a child, I used to watch futuristic fantasy shows like Mojacko and Doraemon. I was fascinated with some of the inventions popping out of Doraemon’s pocket, and even though I was aware that this is far from possible, I secretly wished these things were real.

Why? I want them to make life easier for me, of course.

Here are some of the gadgets I really, extremely, desperately wish I own.

GADGETS I REALLY EXTREMELY DESPERATELY WISH I OWN

1. STORAGE COMPACT MIRROR (from Akazukin ChaCha)
Get this. Imagine having one of those compact powders. You can open them up, direct them at an object, and tada! The compact sucks in the object, no matter how big it is, and stores it in! I think of this whenever I am lugging grocery bags or my schoolbooks.

2. ANYWHERE DOOR (OR ANY TYPE OF TELEPORTER) (from Doraemon)
Pull out a door, walk through it, and you’re wherever you want to be! This will really cut down your travel expenses and time. I think of this whenever I’m stuck in traffic or when I forget something at home.

3. DUPLICATING MIRROR (OR AN OBJECT XEROX MACHINE) (from Doraemon)
It not only copies paper, but objects too! The only set back would be that it might duplicate you, as it did to Nobita. (I watch too much Doraemon). I know this would break a lot of copyright and infringement laws. People might accuse you of stealing, especially if you “xerox” a limited edition item. But if you operate this discreetly and wisely, there will be little chance that other people would find out. It would come really handy when you want to produce an exact replica of that book you borrowed from someone.

These are just among my favorites. There are actually a lot more interesting gadgets in Doraemon. It’s a bit selfish, but I only want a chosen few to be bestowed with these gifts. Imagine if criminals get hold of the teleporter. Then they could casually walk into the Pentagon. Imagine if they get hold of the compact. They might be carrying bombs and we won’t know it, unless of course, a detecting system is also invented along with it.

I wonder if some of these items are already patented and we’re only a brilliant discovery short of an easy life.

But as for now, keep dreaming, Julie.

Chapter Thirty Two

2008-11-10T16:14:00.006+08:00

For the last few days (the final hours of my free life, before I am sentenced to an uncertain future that could either mean the dungeon, the garrote, the gallows or the guillotine), I had been immersing myself in Kate Douglas Wiggins’ Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.

Surprisingly enough, the story was reminiscent of Pollyanna, Heidi, Anne of Green Gables, Princess Sara and other tales which involve extraordinary young ladies, their struggle to fit into conservative society, and their inspiring victories at the end, in which, for some reason or another, they somehow capture everyone’s hearts and melt it on the spot.

They also seem to be paired with a best friend – other girls who are weaker and less attractive than they are, and who have no other purpose other than to keep the main character company all throughout the novel and to further emphasize the astonishing beauty of the leading ladies.

Apart from this, these young little charmers always have their own Madame Defarge – mean, strict old ladies, usually an aunt or a governess, that makes life miserable for them.

And of course, they have a prince charming which takes the form of older men who they turn to whenever the nasty Madame had done too much damage on their sensitive little hearts.

It’s not that I abhor these stories– it’s that I find the author a little too biased on the main character. It’s as if these little girls are their own representations of themselves when they were much younger and/or someone very dear to them. Simply put, these stereotypes are what I’d like to call the classic Mary Sues.

Despite my rather negative feedback, I actually enjoy reading historical novels like these. They put me into the shoes of young women growing up in the 19th century. They describe the scenery of Edwardian America (if there is such a thing) – the lush meadows, the spaces, the farms and the simple elegance of vintage style (buff calico dresses, pink sunshades with ivory handles, pinafores, frocks, etc.)

If there is an era I would like to visit, it would be the late 1800’s and the early 1900’s. I want to experience living in New England, just like Rebecca, or maybe in the West, just like Laura Ingalls Wilder (this one wasn’t too much of a Mary Sue; she was a bit modest in describing herself in the novel). I want to wear what they wore. I want to see the undisturbed beauty of nature before it was corrupted by technology.

Although, I’m quite sure, segregation was still on its prime and dark skinned races are not as welcome to partake in such luxuries. I might end up as a scullery maid of some sort. And since there is a lack of convenient inventions during that age, I might end up pumping water and lighting fires instead of turning on the faucet and switching on the heater.

I guess I’m better off where I am. Someday, however, I’d like to spend a day – no, a week – at a ranch somewhere south or off to the west (maybe in Colorado) and just enjoy simple elegance, and nature at its best.

Chapter Thirty One

2008-11-05T11:36:00.008+08:00

Finally, I finished my FASHION EVOLUTION project.

I came up with it after I discovered Polyvore, an extremely nifty site that lets you compile images into one stylish collage.

Of course, most of the items shown below are not exact clones of the ones I actually own*, but nevertheless, they make excellent substitutes.

FASHION EVOLUTION

FOURTH GRADE

In fourth grade, my parents were the ones who bought my clothes and since I was more interested in anime, cartoons and dolls back then, I didn’t really mind what I was wearing (unless, of course, it’s entirely revolting).

4TH GRADE by yourstrulie

WHAT I HAD:
1. Steve Madden Platform Sneakers
2. Corduroy Overalls (Navy and Dark Green)
3. Lots of turtleneck long sleeves
4. A maroon Jansport Backpack

EARLY MIDDLE SCHOOL

When I was about to enter sixth grade, I began to notice that my clothes differed from those of my classmates. Why was I the only one still wearing straight-cut jeans while my peers had on pairs of bell cut denims? My parents took me to Target and I had a grand time choosing my clothes for the first time. Unfortunately, I was an amateur and the clothes that I picked were no better than the ones my parents chose.

EARLY MIDDLE SCHOOL by yourstrulie

WHAT I HAD:
1. Lots of turtleneck long sleeves. (They never ran out.)
2. K-Swiss sneakers.
3. Navy Jansport Backpack
4. Bell cut jeans.
5. A pair of purple corduroy bell cut jeans. (Not included in the picture.)
6. Fuchsia long sleeve shirt with a bead design. (Beads and rhinestones were popular back then.)

LATE MIDDLE SCHOOL

By the time I was in eight grade, my fashion sense began to evolve as a result of constant observation. I had to keep track of what the popular girls were wearing. I can’t believe I did that. I now preferred tight tops, tight jeans, cute sweaters and the like. I even grew into accessorizing. I bought different kinds of earrings, splurged on lip gloss, and carried a purse just like everyone else.

LATE MIDDLE SCHOOL by yourstrulie

WHAT I HAD:
1. Pink Adidas Hoodie (I actually still like this. I remember buying it from Kohl’s and being very happy with it.)
2. Lots of knit sweaters
3. Long sleeves (I liked the ones that were either black and/or had graphic designs)
4. Tight tops (the white Snoopy shirt above is a little different from the one I bought from Dots)
5. Beige capri
6. Bell bottoms, bell bottoms, bell bottoms
7. Purses (some were from Nine West, some were from Dots)
8. Smackers liquid lip gloss
9. Caboodles Fruitopia lip gloss
10. Hoop earrings (they came in a set and some were almost as big as bangles)
11. Colored earrings

HIGH SCHOOL

During this time, we had to move back to the Philippines. That means I had to adjust to a different way of life. However, I was still heavily influenced by what my peers wore in eight grade and my own obsession with rock music. My mom discovered branded tees for less in Baclaran and Divisoria. Of course, I was elated. However, my being brand conscious has caused me to become a fashion victim. I turned out wearing fake low quality shirts that never ever fit me right. (The clothes shown here are way better than the ones I owned.)

HIGH SCHOOL by yourstrulie

WHAT I HAD:
1. Tight tops (fake logo tees)
2. Jeans
3. Pleated Denim Mini (I wore it once. I never wore it again.)
4. Lots of chucks. (I own one original and all the rest were fake.)
5. Black Tote Bag (mine were actually red and black and had a star on it)
6. Brown wedges
7. Gold hoop earrings (I lost my earring collection, along with my lip gloss)
8. Body Shop Spirit of Moonflower Spray (the scent is very reminiscing)

COLLEGE

Finally, I am actually proud of what I’m wearing. For the first time in my life, I chose the ones that actually fit right – clothes that I feel comfortable in, not clothes that society was dictating me to wear. They consist mostly of soft, nylon blouses that were more mature in taste, and of course, skinny jeans.

COLLEGE by yourstrulie

WHAT I HAD:
1. Ruffled peasant blouses
2. Lots of flutter tops
3. Skinny jeans
4. A-line Skirts
5. Flip-flop style sandals
6. Tote bags
7. Corduroy Jackets (they seem more classic than zip-up sweatshirts)
8. Some make up

Through the years, I evolved from a kid who had no clue on what to wear, to a girl who tried hard to be like everyone else, to an adolescent who became a total fashion slave, to a brand conscious fashion victim, and finally, to a sensible bargain-loving young woman who loves to blend comfort and style into one classic wardrobe.

I’m still wondering what kind of clothes I will be wearing when I’m in my twenties. I guess it depends on the available items and the current trends at that time.

*except for the Steve Madden Platform Shoes, the Body Shop Spirit of Moonflower Spray and the Navy Jansport Backpack

Chapter Thirty

2008-11-02T19:26:00.003+08:00

My brother won’t tell me where he got his Death Note from. I found it in his closet while I was helping clean the house. The mystery of its sudden appearance had begun to intrigue me. On Halloween, after watching the first few episodes of the anime, my curiosity got the best of me. I snatched the faux leather bound notebook from my brother’s closet and decided to try it out.

Who knows? This one notebook might be authentic.

I thought of our former female president as I wrote out her name in big block letters. I thought of her small stature and the rather gigantic mole on her face. I closed the notebook shut and wondered if it was going to work.

Of course it wasn’t going to work. Duh. What’s gotten into me?

It’s only a copy of millions of manufactured notebooks of the same kind. It didn’t fall from the sky. It’s not unique. It was mass produced. It has no magical properties.

It made me feel a little upset about it, though, as sadistic as it may sound. I was actually hoping that my subtle attempt at assassination was going to be effective. It was superstition at work.

My case could be dubbed as a childish fantasy caused by anime obsession. However, as I began to think of it, there are quite a lot of people who actually live their life according to a set of unrealistic beliefs.

How far would some people go because of superstition? I heard that some sacrifice the comfort of hygiene and refrain from taking baths on Fridays. Some, on the other hand, somehow manage to ignore the strong smell of garlic as they attach it to their clothing to ward off evil.

I’m not saying that I view these superstitious beliefs as absurd. I think that most of them have reasonable reasons behind them. Perhaps long ago, a tribe was trying to save up their water supply and told people that they can’t take baths on specific days due to magical inconveniences. Maybe somewhere in history, someone found out that garlic is a snake and insect repellent, and somehow, its use evolved into being a malignant spirit repellent as well.

Superstitions are actually fun, now that I think about it. They stir in us a tinge of senseless hope, which, most of the time, is harmlessly amusing. However, I would like to borrow a page from the dudes who came up with the expression “don’t allow emotions/money/etc. to become your master”

Don’t let superstition master you.

P.S. Happy 30th Post!

Chapter Twenty Nine

2008-10-31T22:53:00.008+08:00

I’m sure most us have those Genie moments – moments when we desperately hope that a man with unnatural body color, several unnecessary body piercing, a misplaced ponytail and magical powers suddenly appears at our doorway and says “Ohayo gozaimasu! You have three wishes!”

Although it may seem realistic, I guess people still entertain the possibility of having their deepest desires come true. I’ve read somewhere that this actually helps lessen stress and express unvoiced wants and/or needs.

I’m having a Genie moment. I desperately hope that a man with unnatural body color, several unnecessary body piercing, a misplaced ponytail and magical powers suddenly appears at our doorway and says “Ohayo gozaimasu! You have three wishes!”

No more questions, introductions, comments, and/or suggestions. I would wish right away.

“Mr. Genie, here is my wish list. And I hope that soon you would suddenly appear at my doorway and immediately, without second thoughts and/or hesitations, grant them.”

My Wish List

1. I wish for more wishes.
2. I wish I had finally graduated college and I learned all I need to know.
3. I wish I live abroad -somewhere far and peaceful and convenient.

More wishes (see wish 1):

4. I wish I’m rich.
5. I wish I have a big dog (German Shepherd or something like that) and I wish that he will be nice to Tammy, my Maltese puppy wannabe.
6. I wish I suddenly learned how to drive my own Pontiac.
7. I wish I live near the beach.
8. I wish I have my own personal library complete with books I have yet to read and enjoy.
9. I wish I know who my soul mate is.
10. I wish that when I am sixty, I will still be able to sit in a bench and watch the sea with whoever my soul mate is.
11. More wishes.

I know there’s a lot more. But I have yet to make sure that I will not regret making those wishes.

But if I have to boil it down to three main, realistic wishes, it would be the following:

1. I wish I would graduate college and become a successful nurse in a place I’m proud to call “home”.
2. I wish I will have a very happy family life (both of orientation and of procreation)
3. I wish that I will properly fulfill God’s Will for me here on Earth.

Somehow, writing down those three main wishes seemed more fulfilling than jotting down a numerous superficial wishes. I’m glad I learned something.

Chapter Twenty Eight

2008-10-29T16:09:00.046+08:00

I finally concocted Milk Tea. I brewed black tea, mixed in powdered milk and sprinkled some sugar. Its taste was reminiscent of ancient China (although I have never been there personally, I’ve always imagined myself in such a place) – subtle and calming.

I had been going through another emotional disappointment for the last couple of days. One of them involved choosing battles. Which battles should I choose? Those where I could be assured of a sure win? Or those which will truly test my capabilities? Which among many sides should I chose? Am I prioritizing right? How long will it take me to finally learn? Have I finally learned in the first place?

These are only some of the questions that had flooded my mind. Fortunately, after nights of desperate prayers, tear-soaked pillows, suppressed sniffles, and frequent trips to the bathroom to blow my nose, I was able to arrive at one final decision which I am extremely proud of.

Today, after arranging my room once more, I peered into my closet and realized that I had more unnecessary garments than must-haves, a word which here means “stuff that are frequently required of me to wear”. For example, of all the black shirts that I own, half do not fit me anymore and the other half now belongs to my sister. Of all the white shirts that I own, half of them have yellow stains under the area usually frequented by such stains, while the other half either belongs to my sister or is composed of shrunken shirts too small for us both. Black and white are usually the essential colors, a word which here means “colors that people require you to wear”.

Good thing my shirt trauma has been resolved. A recent shopping expedition has resulted in one decent, fit and unstained white shirt and a rather pretty black shirt that is neither too small nor sisterly.

That’s why, to comfort myself, I made a list of the other essential must-haves that I’m saving for:

1. CLUTCH

I have dresses of neutral colors (black, white, cream and brown), all of which I am saving for special occasions. Then it came to me – which bag will I use for such occasions? Obviously, it can’t be my black purse, since its’ too casual. Nor can it be my pink purse since it’s too chic. Other than a more stylish than elegant brown purse, I have no sophisticated bag whatsoever. And since that black is a good color that would go well with the neutral colors of my dresses, I decided on getting myself clutch of this color sooner or later.

2. PUMAS

Ever since my Nikes’ soles began to turn from white to a yellowish gray brown and their soles began to peel, I’ve been considering the sleek, minimalist design of the “Puma”. I prefer a white one since white is yet another color that practically matches with anything.

3. MESSENGER BAG

My sister has this brown messenger bag that both says “feminine” and “outdoorsy” at the same time. It reminds me of my childhood desire to go on a Pokemon journey. So if ever the mood of wanting to be a Pokemon trainer or at least a forest ranger, biker, adventurer, mailman, nature lover, army medic, messenger boy and/or scout strikes me, I think a good messenger bag will be perfect. (In addition to the fact that it seems a bit more convenient than my heavy tote bags).

4. BACKPACK

I know that the “days of heavy books” are fast approaching. That’s why I’m entertaining the possibility of having to get myself a decent backpack that is both cute and functional, despite the fact that I’m not a backpack person. I also have a practical side and I would rather choose wearing a backpack instead of a shoulder sling (or whatever you need to put on a broken, fractured or strained clavicle and/or scapula).

Chapter Twenty Seven

2008-10-26T11:35:00.000+08:00

“Green Tea should not be served with milk to fully appreciate the flavor.”

That’s exactly what the box said.

Despite the awkwardness of the statement, I knew better than to argue with the box. No more experimental concoctions. I’ll leave the tea as it is. (Although it did make me feel a tiny bit disappointed.)

Movie review time!

Kung Fu Panda
Dreamworks

I’m always behind when it comes to movies. I’m well aware that Po and the gang came out eras ago. I’m just too lazy to update myself with the latest releases. In fact, I guess that since we lost our cable connection, and since I sat on my iPod (squished flat), I weakened and maybe even diminished my connection to “pop media”.

Anyway, despite the pixel imperfections (it was really obvious that the movie was video-cammed by a swashbuckling pirate), I was still able to appreciate the film.

I found myself laughing out loud at some of the lines, and I found the whole thing to be extremely amusing - especially the fact that Po the Panda is the son of a stork. O.o

(Well, I guess that since Angelina Jolie is part of the voice actor cast, adoption is being promoted here.)

Here is a list of the other things that amused and/or bothered me:

1.I know that this is fantasy and all, but a mantis being able to hold the ropes of a bridge with several animals on it – well – maybe it’s just for laughter’s sake.

2.How quick can a Panda learn kung fu and beat an oversized macho cat? The tigress sure did spend a lot of time training. She was shown being a cute little kitten toddler beating up the dummy. Why wasn’t she able to defeat that jaguar of a beast (or beast of a jaguar)?

3.And why does the macho cat seem to have ample energy to be able to jump on falling rocks, yet somehow lose his power when it came to facing an obese panda? Intimidation much? Or maybe he should’ve stocked up on Red Bull.

4.Some of the characters seem to have just entered the screen and faded away unnoticed. Even though that this is a kid’s movie, there still should be a connection between the audience and a certain character. Depth.

5.It was quite short. At the end of the movie, I was wondering what happened to macho cat. And as the credits were rolling, I realized that I missed Po. A lot.

Bottom line: I believe this could’ve been a better movie than it is. But nevertheless, it’s worth the time. If there should be a sequel, please make it a good one.

Chapter Twenty Six

2008-10-25T12:28:00.000+08:00

Once again, I changed my layout. Although this one may be dark, it has that Zen feel to it, unlike my previous, which was a little too gray. (Gray is one of my least favorite colors, along with mustard yellow and neons.)

For the past few days, I’ve been trying to suppress my temper (though unsuccessfully). The heat, the stickiness, the chores and almost everything else cause my blood pressure to rise a few units up the scale. Yesterday afternoon, I almost felt like crying in anger and frustration. I felt like I need a vacation somewhere in the Himalayas. (I prefer the Asian peaks due to the fact that they remind me of oriental monkish life.)

I’m not sure if it’s my stagnancy and inactivity that’s causing this or, in contrast, a hormonal hyperactivity.

Sir Lucas said balance is the key. If temper is overruling in my life, I should cancel it out with a moment of tranquility. Peace never looked more attractive.

I do a few things in order to achieve full “peace mode”, which includes the following:

1.For intellectual stimulation, I grab a bag of Choco Chums, which meticulously melt in your mouth with every chocolaty crunch (alliterative awesomeness) and watch an episode of Bones for a full hour. Unfortunately, I believe I had already watched all the episodes.

2.For privacy and quiet, I turn on the AC, and then lie down with a good book. (I’m currently reading Book the Tenth of the Series of Unfortunate Events. I had a year long hiatus with these books. I have to admit, I missed them much.)

3.For calming down and/or contemplation time, I take my dog out for a walk – usually during the dramatic sunset period which presides over the miniature meadow on our street.

There is another thing which I want to try. It’s called milk tea. I wonder if powder milk and sugar will make a good combination with green tea. (I know that black tea is milk’s best friend.) I hope to try this experiment later this day, and hope that it won’t result in unpleasant food poisoning.

Chapter Twenty Five

2008-10-21T16:09:00.003+08:00

I passed Math.

But I broke my contact lenses (tore it, actually).

Maybe it was for a reason why my contact lenses were torn. Maybe my they were becoming too unhealthy for my eyes. Or maybe I was too careless. Maybe I was becoming a little vain because of them. Nevertheless, the only thing that annoys me is the price we have to pay for a replacement. Other than that, I feel like I deserve this tragedy.

I guess that my bad lack had been cancelled out by a “miracle”. Who would've thought that I was going to pass? I was near failing.

Semester break had officially begun and I can finally to go to my room and bulldoze the piles of papers and notebooks that is reminiscent of yester-semester. The funny thing is, I don’t feel like it.

Life is ironic.

Chapter Twenty Four

2008-10-20T16:32:00.000+08:00

When I am doing nothing, I feel as if I’m not being productive. However, when I’m so busy that I can’t even breathe, that’s when I seek the solace of stagnancy.

For the past few days, I’ve been wondering whether to anticipate the coming of the second semester or to dread it. I stood on my bed, looked around and wondered if I should clean up the mess of the first semester to make room of the new mess that’s about to be hauled in.

My mom advised me against it. At least not yet – not until I’m finished with my exams.

The last final exam will be tomorrow in the morning. Before that, I plan on checking what my math final exam grade is. I really hope that I could make it. After that, I plan on going to my other professor to submit a bunch of signatures. I’ve heard rumors that if there’s something lacking in your journal – even the tiniest bit of detail - she might mark you incomplete for the first semester. I better make sure that I have no INC on my report card. (Do they still call it that in college?)

I hope that by tomorrow afternoon I could breathe deeply. (I really hope that I don’t have to take any removals – for math especially.) I want to clean my room. I want to brush away the specks of yesterday.

I want to make room for tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty Three

2008-10-18T17:59:00.001+08:00

Shopping is one of the best forms of detoxification.

After the exams, I had this urge to enter the mall and leave with shopping bags in hand. That’s why when my mom woke me up earlier than usual so we could go to the Three Day Sale at the mall, I couldn’t resist.

I contented myself with a few clothes, snacks and shoes – all of which were bought at bargain prices. There’s nothing more satisfying than buying something at a discounted price.

Speaking of bargains, I only go to places where I can be assured that I’m buying items worth more than what the price tag say. Here are my favorite shopping places:

1.SM (Sale)
When they have a sale at SM, they mean it. All the stores in the mall have big red cardboard posters screaming 20% or 30% or 50% off. The next best thing about SM sales is that you can always find a good bargain on high quality items.

High quality items + discounted price = (^v^)

However, they only occur occasionally.

2.Greenhills
Greenhills is my number one spot for bags, phones, accessories and shoes. It’s a little like Divisoria and Baclaran, but I seem to prefer the quality of the items sold here. Greenhills is also a lot classier.

3.Baclaran
Baclaran is where go when I desperately need a new top and/or jeans. There’s a certain booth here where my mom and I always stop by (our suki). They always stock up with new items once a month. I’ve noticed recently that the items sold at Preppy are much like the ones sold here.

4.Ukay-Ukay
This is the place to go if I’m hunting for a costume, a jacket and a skirt. Jackets and skirts sold anywhere else cost at least Php600 to Php2000. But if you’re in the thrift shop, you could get it for a lot less. Most of them are used, of course, but aren’t vintage clothing “in” these days?

5.Robinson’s Place (Sale)
Although the sale at Robinson’s isn’t as “universal” as the one in SM, they still offer pretty good items at a lesser price.

Chapter Twenty Two

2008-10-16T22:21:00.001+08:00

I spent the whole day solving a mystery.

I know that sounds too ambitious and unrealistic, since I hardly leave the recluse of my home. (Travel is still a nuisance). That’s why I resorted into reinstalling and replaying Nancy Drew: The Secret of the Scarlet Hand.

I noticed that unlike before, I actually took less time to solve the mystery. (It took me one day, with little help. Long ago, it took me around three days, even with a walkthrough. That’s how addicting Nancy Drew games are.) Even though I may not be a techno-geek gamer, I couldn’t help but be amazed by the game play. The chronology of events was well structured. You couldn’t advance to the next “set of tasks” without completing the preceding ones. Well, duh. That would ruin the story.

I also liked the way how Her Interactive managed to incorporate education (in this case, Mayan History) into the game. I wasn’t sure how accurate the information was in the game, but it pretty much introduced me into the world of ancient America.

What inspired me to play this game once more (I bought it years ago, but failed to finish it) was that I had been having strange dreams lately. There was this one dream in which I was supposedly a detective and I had to investigate a strange series of events between two buildings connected by a secret tunnel. In one building, there was also an empty room with bare white walls where a mentally ill girl resides.

Another dream also involved my playing detective again. This time, it was set in a hidden game room. I remember billiards, jukeboxes, toy clowns and even a small makeshift bar in the middle.

The latest dream I had about my being a snoopy investigator was a couple of nights ago. It was set in a huge university with red brick buildings, a baseball field and a soccer field. I think it even had a hospital, a hotel and a couple of restaurants.

Anyway, wrapped around some of the buildings was a long, winding roller coaster track.
There seemed to be a problem with the roller coaster track. It was unfinished.

In my dream, I went to a restaurant on the top floors on one of the more modern buildings. It was Applebee’s. (Strange. I hadn’t seen that restaurant for such a long time.) The cashier was an obese African-American man. He spoke with a deep voice. I remember him telling another man that they had Applebee’s For Kids. And then suddenly, the scene shifted to a similar looking setting – only the chairs and the tables were smaller. The cashier went on saying that a couple of kids used to play around here. I remember seeing the kids reenact the past like in the movies. They looked like Dick and Jane. The girl hid a key somewhere in the cabinet behind the counter. Then they disappeared.

We returned to the present. I immediately ran to “Applebee’s For Kids”, which turned out to be a section of the main restaurant. I checked into the cabinet behind the counter and there was the key.

Then that was when I ran to the administration and presented them with my discovery. They explained to me that the key was used to start the roller coaster ride that wound itself around the buildings. However, the roller coaster was ancient (strange). It was a construction project started years ago during the establishment of the university and for some reason, was never finished. They said that they would begin reconstructing the strange roller coaster ride right away.

Feeling proud of myself, I returned to the entrance of the university but was shocked to see that they were letting kids ride the roller coaster cars already! I remember that the tracks weren’t complete and that they stopped right outside the twentieth something floor of a rather tall brick building. I ran back to the administration. On my way, I saw my old classmates. They were wearing our high school P.E. uniforms. They waved and called me over. Surprisingly, I seemed to have forgotten my urgent goal and stopped by to chat.

When I was nearing the administration building, which was situated above the hotel, an old classmate of mine came up and started to converse with me. He was asking me how I was and where I was heading to. I was trying to be nice, but a sense of dislike crept through my veins when the old classmate began to hold my hands! I immediately broke free from his grasp and told him that I had to run. He thought that I was inviting him to follow me and ran after me. However, when he saw that I was about to enter into the hotel, he stopped short and asked why “we were going to the hotel”. Annoyed, I quickened my pace and literally ran up the stairs towards the administration floor. The guy followed right behind me! I pretended not to see him as I entered the administration room.

There were people with maps and graphs, charting the course of the roller coaster ride. I immediately told them about the dilemma and they stopped working. They looked at me and began to panic.

Then suddenly, I seem to see the passenger of that roller coaster car – a little girl. The car was approaching the “break off” point. I saw the ragged edges where the steel railings had stopped.

Then I woke up. It was one of the most vivid and unexplainable dreams I had ever had. Up until now, it gives me shivers. I don’t know why.

Chapter Twenty One

2008-10-15T22:38:00.000+08:00

Finally, after days of pressure, stress and study (and of course, the occasional sickness that goes along with these), hell week is over. I managed to pass my third departmental exam in math. Thank God. Although, I am awaiting the results of the Finals.

I took my Philosophy finals today, which was an oral exam. You had to stand in front of the professor, pick a card, read the topic written on it, and then discuss all you know about it. I picked out phenomenology. Bad start. I was trembling and stuttering and unable to get a grasp. I was a nervous wreck. The next topic I picked was Russell. Unfortunately enough, the professor wanted me to discuss Russell’s philosophy of language, which, out of all the concepts on language, was the one I failed to fully understand.

I sighed, wishing that it was deontology or teleology or at least Mr. Kierkegaard that I picked. However, God is kind. The professor asked me to describe Russell’s The Value of Philosophy instead.

In conclusion, I realized how helpful this blog had been. In my last post, I had tried to describe, compare and contrast Russell’s views on the philosophical individual, his/her traits and roles.

This blog is the reason why I passed my Finals.

Chapter Twenty

2008-10-12T21:54:00.002+08:00

If there’s something that could fill up a notebook faster, it’s math.

Even though the third departmental exams were over and done with last Friday, I will have to take the Math Finals this Tuesday followed by both the Philosophy Finals (it’s an Oral Exam) and the Social Science Finals on Wednesday. As if life couldn’t get any worse. After that, I’ll be left with the “final” Final Exam. The Communication 1 Exam will be next Tuesday, which will be composed of texts to be paraphrased, outlined and précised. After that, I don’t know if I should celebrate the end of the first semester, anticipate the second one, or mourn the subjects that I have to repeat. (Knock on wood that there won’t be any.)

Last night, I had trouble sleeping. I felt that I was losing so much – my status as a high achiever, close relationships, friends and even myself. I slept after numerous prayers, but it wasn’t a peaceful sleep. I woke up dreaming about a man stalking me with a desire to kill.

However, after rereading Bertrand Russell’s The Value of Philosophy, I began to realize that the philosophical individual is not a self-centered person who is trapped within the walls of her own troubles. She is a person who views the world through a three-hundred degree perspective. She will look at things in a different way, exploring different possibilities without forming rigid judgment. She is supposed to maintain her sense of wonder and would avoid accepting things as they are. She does not have a “them against us” mentality or any form of dualism. She will detach from herself and become a part of the Not Self – the Universe, the Greater Whole. In doing so, she will be free.

In a way, Russell’s school of thought is somewhat similar to that of Paulo Coelho’s and Taoism. One must detach from oneself, and then one will become a part of the whole.

In church, I prayed for God to give me a sense of peace. I needed to be at peace with myself. I needed to be a philosophical individual. I want to sweep away my cobwebs and look at the world through new perspectives. I will attempt to diminish my negativity and opt for optimism.

I hope that this will help me get through just in case I may not pass the math exam tomorrow. God help me.

Chapter Nineteen

2008-10-11T16:58:00.000+08:00

I’ve been adding too many widgets to my blog lately. I’ve been joining blog communities and I even installed a blog counter. It’s as if I want my blog to attract attention despite the fact that it’s original purpose was to provide a way of expressing myself without having to impress others.

What is the meaning of this, then?

I learned in class that unresolved issues causes anxieties in some people. There are two different ways of dealing with anxiety: constructively and destructively. I’m certain that in my case, it’s the latter.

I think it’s called “compensating”, although technically speaking, I may be wrong. That’s what I believe is the core of this recent blog-obsession I’ve been having.

I feel as though I’m not being heard enough.

I have to admit, I’ve returned to my status as a wallflower in college. I talk less and when I do, there is less enthusiasm. Is this the cause of another case of insecurity? Or should I give myself the benefit of the doubt and state that the only reason why I’m like this is because of my attempt at rediscovering myself? But how will I be able to, if I have a hard time trusting other people? Aren’t social relationships influential in molding someone into who he or she would become? Am I hiding something from others, then? Or am I hiding something from myself?

I sincerely hope that whatever the case is, it would not be as severe as my middle-school trauma. I hope that this would only be a temporary let down. Life is a Ferris-wheel. (I like Ferris-wheels more than roller coasters. They are more quiet, scenic and allow time for reflection.) Soon, hopefully, it would be my turn again to rise.

Chapter Eighteen

2008-10-08T21:38:00.005+08:00

I don't know what is wrong with me lately.

I kept changing my layouts from xml to classic and vice versa, all the while trying to find and fit that perfect design. Yet no matter what I do, I can't seem to satisfy myself with one final layout. I feel as if I had an episode of manic obsessive compulsiveness. I would probably win the record for most layout changes in a day.

I spent half my day studying for the Departmental Exam in Math this upcoming Friday. I guess that apart from the blog layout turmoil, I’ve been too busy tackling the hazardous functions and their analytic and graphical counterparts that I forgot about my other task: to write about the Philosophy of Love in relation to Rizal’s El Filibusterismo.

From viewing their status messages in Yahoo Messenger, my classmates had all been too busy trying to finalize their Final Paper. I, on the other hand, wrote a vague draft on a piece of yellow-pad and left it in oblivion. I felt as if I had wasted plenty of time today – all because of my incompetence in algebra (I have a horrible foundation) and my obsession with finding the perfect layout.

Maybe I should try to calm down, to relax my mind and focus on what needs to be done. Prioritize. Maybe the anxiety I’m feeling is the result of personal insecurities and such. Maybe I need to stomp on these first.

I should get a goodnight’s sleep now and hope that by tomorrow, the layout obsession would diminish so I could spend the rest of the day solving the “big” numerical problems. And hopefully, I hope that I would gather enough strength to harness insights on the philosophy of love.

Is love philosophical?

Goodnight, Julie.

Chapter Seventeen

2008-10-06T10:24:00.003+08:00

After A While

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...

-Veronica A. Shoffstall

---

For the past few days, I've been going through a rather untimely emotional challenge. (I’m not sure if it is untimely, or it is meant to happen at that time, since after all, “there is a time for everything”)

Déjà vu. It’s an emotional challenge similar to last year’s.

However, I will make sure that it won’t end up like it had before. I’m going to restart my spiritual growth and development without letting it falter and without letting anything else interfere.

I will begin again.

I will start rereading passages of importance. I will refrain from blowing lashes. I will not be wishing and clinging to an unlikely future, one which I’m not sure is even meant for me.

When history repeats, God is giving you another chance to do things right.

Maybe that is why I decided that there should be a change in my layout.

You learn....
With every goodbye, you learn.

Chapter Sixteen

2008-09-30T22:17:00.002+08:00

Travel has become a nuisance.

At first it was an exciting experience. You never know when you would be able to catch a bus, whether you would stand or sit, or what exciting people you would meet.

But then as time passed by, and I became more and more acquainted to the sight of the interior of a bus from ceiling to floor, from window to window, I began to tire of it – its smell, its pollutants, its population.
The people I met were not at all exciting.

Some are noisy (I sometimes am too, especially if I’m traveling with a friend). Some are complaining. Some dispose of their body odors in very inconvenient ways. For some reason, even their faces seemed to have gradually formed into uniform bus-people countenances. Tired and sleepy.

But this boredom caused by travel monotony has led me to observe my fellow travelers’ seat preference, behaviors, etc.

The Laws of Bus Riding

1.The two-seaters are favorites, especially of loners and people who value their personal space.

2.People migrate to the front of the bus throughout the ride.

3.Kids are supposed to sit first, then the seniors, then the ladies, then the men. Poor guys.

4.Short people who can’t reach the bars prefer to lean on the sides of the seats.

5.Conductors take advantage of one’s forgetfulness. Fail to mention that you’re a student, despite your uniform, you will NOT get a discount.

Chapter Fifteen

2008-09-27T17:14:00.003+08:00

I created a rather nifty button on Photoshop that links to my blog:

With that done with, let’s move on to fashion.

Last Wednesday, I took a “luxury trip” via bus and jeep to an ukay-ukay (a thrift store) in Manila. It was my first time to visit such a place. It was small. It was cramped.

I loved it.

There were all kinds of clothes sold at 10% of the original price! Of course, these clothes were either second-hand or with defects, but they could still be of use! Everybody loves a good bargain, and trust me, an ukay-ukay is the perfect place for bargain lovers who don’t mind stitching up a few sewing errors here and there.

My mom and I shopped for an hour, and I ended taking home two suede jackets and three skirts. (For 10% of the original price. Mama did the calculations on the bus ride home.)

This wonderful shopping phenomenon has brought to mind some of my shopping principles.

There are varying levels of stores. There are also varying levels of quality and price. When shopping for a particular item, how do we know where to go? How do we know how much should we spend?

WHEN TO SAVE

If you are looking for clothes that you would only use once or twice (i.e. a costume for a play), then your main focus is the price and suitability.

1. Make sure that the piece of clothing fits the purpose perfectly.
2. Make sure you bought it at the lowest price possible.

Quality isn’t that important. You would only use it once anyway. (Unless of course, the costume could be worn casually.)

WHEN TO SPEND A LITTLE CASH

If you are looking for something that you would wear most of the time (i.e. watch, t-shirt), quality is your main focus. Ensure that the item would last long. You don’t want to buy a blouse that shrinks when you put it in the dryer. You don’t want a watch that may look glamorous but stops working after a week, or a t-shirt with graphics that fade after a month.

Also, buy an item that is practical, meaning:
1. You can comfortably wear it.
2. You have a wide array of other garments that go along with it.

A bright yellow halter top may look appealing from the store window, but will you be willing to wear it? Or when buying an adorable skirt, do you have matching tops to pair it with?

However, unless you’re someone with a considerable amount of wealth, it’s advisable not to buy designer items. Items that are used daily are prone to stains and wear. I wouldn’t want pen marks on an original Prada purse now.

WHEN TO SPLURGE

When it comes to buying stuff for formal occasions (i.e. weddings, parties, award ceremonies), it is perfectly fine to spend a lot of money. You are looking for something glamorous – something that makes a statement. You wouldn’t want to attend a ballroom party wearing cheap heels.

Special events occur only once in a while, so why not spend?

(Of course, it is even better if you could find items with the same look and quality for less.)

Chapter Fourteen

2008-09-24T22:09:00.004+08:00

I haven’t posted for a while. It saddened me because I was attempting at writing an entry a day. But I guess the short hiatus did me good. I managed to cook up some pretty interesting tidbits of thought.

As I was walking down the puddle-stricken sidewalk along Padre Faura, I accidentally tripped on a rather large piece of rock. I managed to get back on my feet and regain my composure. In an attempt to disregard the reactions of those around me, I tried to engage myself into deep thinking. What if I had reacted to the rock-tripping incident in another way? What if I had avoided it?

That is I came up with how one’s personality is relative to how one reacts to a rock on the sidewalk.

THE DIFFERENT FORMS OF PERSONALITY BASED ON ROCKS

If you keep your eyes to the ground and you have managed to avoid the rock, then you are very defensive and could even be considered as paranoid. You have a hard time trusting yourself and the world around you.

If you didn’t notice the rock at all because you walked to fast and ended up tripping on it, then you are very rash and impulsive. You tend to rush into things without thinking ahead. You rely more on your emotional drive than your reason.

If you didn’t notice the rock at all because you were lost in your own world, and ended up tripping on the rock, then you are very romantic and idealistic. You tend to dwell in your thoughts and is unaware of what is going on in the world around you most of the time.

If you managed to place your view right between the place ahead of you and on the road before you, then you are balanced.

If you seemed to be lost in your world, yet managed to avoid the rock because someone looked out for you, then you are lucky.

If you did trip, but ended up laughing it off, then you are very lighthearted and easy-go-lucky. You have a humorous take on life. Optimism is your number one principle.

If you did trip and grumbled and/or cursed about it, you are frustrated, anxious and angry at the moment. This pessimism could be temporary (it might have been caused by a bad day) or permanent (it might have been caused by a series of unfortunate events).

If you did trip but acted as if nothing happened, complete with that straight look on your face and that purposeful gait, then you are serious and strong. You don’t let petty things stir you away from your rigid and planned path. However, you tend to be so caught up with your schedule that you don’t have time to stop and smell the flowers.

If you did trip and blushed out of total embarrassment, then you might be insecure. You are unable to admit your mistakes, fearing what others might think of you. However, you fail to see that all of us make mistakes.

All of us trip on a rock once in a while. It's just a matter of how we react to it.

I’m not sure if I included all there is to include. I guess that if I think of something else, I’ll just have to add it later on.

Chapter Thirteen: Part Two

2008-09-19T21:28:00.012+08:00

I read Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom.

The story was captivating, but not as touching as For One More Day (a novel by the same author). For me at least. Maybe it’s because I have long since accepted the possibility and finality of death. I know that we are all sent here by God to achieve our personal mission. After that, we go home.

That’s how I view death. Going home.

All of us die. All of us go home.

Coincidentally, our assignment in Philosophy requires us to write our own Last Will and Testament and our own Obituary. I’ve tried to start on these assignments but found my mind to be uncooperative. It’s not because I don’t want to face death. It’s because writing definite documents like these make me feel like I’m planning my own life. Man plans. God laughs.

It’s as if I’m defying God by creating a certain timeline of my life. I like spontaneity. I like surprises. I like it when I surrender my life to God and put him on auto-pilot. My life should not be rigid. It should be flexible yet bent on fulfilling my personal mission – God’s will. Only God could help me get to that.

I don’t know what my personal mission is.

Before I die, I want to be aware of what it is. I want to know the reason why I was born into this world. What would I write in my obituary if I don’t even know what it was that I should have done?

The same goes for my Last Will and Testament. How will I know whom to leave my properties to? Will I meet my soul mate? Will I marry him? Will I have children? Will I meet a friend whom I should include in my Will?

There is so much uncertainty in life, and my planning out my life seems like a futile attempt at clearing these uncertainties – something which is, well, futile.

And I don’t want my obituary to be an extravagant two-paged summary of my accomplishments. It could be as short as four sentences, and I would be completely satisfied with that. What’s important is that I would leave my legacy in the hearts of those whom I love.

Life has to end. Love doesn’t.

Chapter Thirteen: Part One

2008-09-19T21:28:00.011+08:00

I read Paulo Coelho’s Like a Flowing River, which is a collection of thoughts, anecdotes and reflections. The author was an outdoorsy man and most of his entries were tinted with the fresh essence of nature. Maybe it was the refreshing stories. Maybe it was the lush green cover of the book. Maybe it was the beckoning glow of the sunset from the window. But right after reading, I rushed outdoors.

And lo and behold!

Amidst the gray sky stretched the perfect rainbow. The colors were solid and strong. The shape was that of a impeccable arch which extended from the one end of the sky to the next.

It was watercolor come to life.

I believe that it was God’s gift to me for taking time to appreciate His creation. Satisfied with this divine sign, I turned around.

And lo and behold!

The world was green and gold.

I watched the sun’s rays radiate from a single spot on the horizon, bathing everything in a heavenly glow. The grass was heavy with dew drops which sparkled like glass globes. The air was fresh and smelled of rain.

How to Become a Simple Sentimentalist (#5)

Go outside. Do nothing but appreciate the marvels of the world. Contemplate. This is God's creation. This is His gift. For us.

The world had rejuvenated.

I hoped that my life will, too.

Chapter Twelve

2008-09-18T19:32:00.003+08:00

Songs.

I had been thinking about this for a while now, actually.

I used to listen to a wide variety of songs – from R&B to pop and rock. I usually pick out the songs with meaningful lyrics. Those with words which I can relate to – words which I can associate with how I feel.

“When will my reflection show who I am inside?”

“A dream is a wish your heart makes…”

“Here we are, safe at last…”

“I’m so tired of being here…”

“When you’re all alone in the lands of forever, lay under the milky way…”

“And I forgive you, for being away for far too long…”

“Maybe I’m just not the one for you.”

Every time I listen, I feel as if the melody and the lyrics of the song blend and emphasize the unexpressed emotions I hold deep inside. A song is more than the successive vibrations of different notes. It is a story. It is a memory.

That is why most songs I listen to are linked with a certain event. I get a glimpse into the past when that particular song was best represented. However, not all memories are worth remembering. There are some which I would be better off without.

That’s why I choose not to listen to meaningful songs.

Not anymore.

They tap into the deep crevices of my history, uncovering, and possibly reliving, those dreaded moments of the past which I had been desperately trying to bury. The song will only cause hurt. The song will only cause tears.

That’s why I came up with:

How to Become a Simple Sentimentalist (#4)

Dedicate a symphony, a sonata or a concerto – anything instrumental. Music like these are not bound by limiting words. They are flexible. They are able to contain as much memory, and maybe even more emotion, than lyrical songs.

Chapter Eleven

2008-09-17T08:21:00.005+08:00

I spent the whole of last night singing Karaoke. It wasn't actually as fun as the first time. The songs have grown old on me, and most of them were really old in the first place. To make things worse, my incapability to properly project my voice into the mic has caused me scores below 70.

I've tried to persuade my parents to buy a new chip with more modern songs, so I don't have to get stuck singing "Release Me".

But there are drawbacks:
1. I am a bad singer. More songs = more ear-wrecking, glass-crashing moments.
2. The chip cost around Php 13, 000. Cell phone anyone?

I wasn’t in the mood for so much deep thinking and personal reflection yesterday. I only came up with one theory concerning the pattern of events that had happened to me.

Here’s what I’ve noticed:
I have to conquer before moving on.

It sounds too generalized if I put it that way. That’s why I’m going to use my friendless-friendly example. When I was in grade school, I had plenty of buddies. When I was in middle school I became shy and I lost my buddies. When I was in high school, I learned that I’m the one responsible for making new buddies. I conquered my shyness and realized that I can be comfortable around other people. In college, well, I got lazy and my responsibility was left on the shelf. I really hope that in time, I will get desperate enough to get over this emotional/mental/psychological blur that I’m going through right now.

But the thing is, I'm not shy anymore. I'm aware what I'm capable of.

If God hadn't put me on the dry dessert road back in middle school, I would've had a harder time coping in college. I would've degraded myself and my insecurity levels would have increased.

Everything has a purpose.

Maybe I will make another post last night in order to make up for the one I missed last night. Call me O.C.

Chapter Ten

2008-09-15T21:21:00.003+08:00

I browsed other people’s blogs today because, maybe, I wanted to be inspired. However, what happened was that I became tempted to reach for fame. I wanted this blog to be noticed, read and praised, just like the Blogs of Note.

Wrong.

That would defeat the purpose of this blog being a personal tool of self-discovery and achieving self-actualization. So, here I am, trying to content myself with my little corner in the internet, wanting nothing more but the freedom of being able to express my thoughts and feelings without having to please the crowd. (Still, though, I want my entries to be as grammatically correct as possible. I hope it is.)

Today is my sister’s birthday, and I felt quite satisfied with buying her a cute notebook for a gift. It didn’t cost much, but it is cute and useful. It’s the thought that counts.

Our discussion in philosophy today included the concept of deontology and teleology. I’m not quite sure if my idea of teleology as the principle of “purpose” is as accurate as I hoped. According to my professor, teleology is similar to Machiavelli’s “the end justifies the means”. You decide to do something, whether it’s ethical or not, for a justifiable reason. Is that the same thing as believing that “all things happen for a reason” and that “everything is pre-designed and controlled by fate”?

Meanwhile, deontology focuses more on the situation at hand and whether it is right or wrong, regardless of the result. It’s basically the opposite of the Machiavellian belief. It doesn’t matter if it will help you in the future, as long as it’s wrong, it should not be done.

Being a liberal who is also trying to justify past misdeeds, I consider myself a teleologist. I believe that one cannot be impeccably pure. Most of us must be guilty of committing an ethical offense every now and then. I find it much easier to believe that we made those mistakes because we are to learn from them, not to wallow in them.

The purpose of mistakes is to teach.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the simple sentimentalist smile guide and realized that what I’m doing might be considered hedonistic. I want to change the title of the whole thing from Ways to Make a Simple Sentimentalist Smile to How to Become a Simple Sentimentalist.

With that done with, let us move on to:

How to Become a Simple Sentimentalist (#3)
Reminisce. It doesn’t matter if you appear awkwardly childish. Try to recall the memories of your youth. Listen to the songs you used to listen to as a kid. Watch what used to be your Saturday morning cartoons. Try and relive the simplicity and innocence you had once experienced as a child and appreciate the lightheartedness of it.

Chapter Nine

2008-09-14T22:41:00.003+08:00

It’s very late. I’m partly writing, partly playing football with my dog. She perfected the art of conjuring the irresistible puppy face. She sits, looks at you with those huge black eyes and BINGO! You just had to play with her.

Anyway, I’m trying my hand at creating a successful “one-entry-a-day” kind of blog. So here I am, in the middle of the night, typing my thoughts out.

I know I’m supposed to write about the relevance of Rizal’s message to modern society, but again, my mind has blanked out because of travel fatigue. We went to the Mall of Asia SMX Center today. They had an International Book Fair Convention sort of thing, and wherever books are, I’m there.

Tonight, however, I am feeling a bit sentimental. That’s why I came up with number two of how to make a simple sentimentalist smile. I thought about it while we were riding home and before I took a long afternoon nap upon arriving. I guess that this might be a bit paradoxical, since it contradicts the idea of the sentimentalist’s simplicity. But…

Ways to Make a Simple Sentimentalist Smile (#2)
Go the extra mile. Go beyond what is expected. Even if it is as simple as adding a smiley face sticker on a memo, the simple sentimentalist will always notice the effort and regard it with great importance.

Come to think of it, what I’m doing here might be something like a guide on how to court a simple sentimentalist. On the other hand though, the idea of making a sentimentalist smile does not necessarily restrict itself to the field of courting. It could also extend to family life. What if you and your sentimentalist mother had a fight? Wouldn’t you want to know how to make her smile – again?

Chapter Eight

2008-09-13T20:28:00.004+08:00

We had to watch a play in UP Diliman.

The travel is the one to blame for this rare case of fatigue which I am experiencing right now. However, tiring as it is, it also proved to be an adventure.

I rode LRT Line 2 for the first time and I found the transport system to be rather modern and chic. (They had ticket vending machines.) It was my first time at the flagship campus, and, after so many years, I was once again exposed to the peaceful mentally-stimulating atmosphere of an ideal university, like Princeton and Yale, for instance.

The play itself was an unexplainable, memorable phenomenon – similar to that of a typhoon harmoniously collaborating with a Mardi gras parade.

It had impact. Up until now, the memories of each act haunted me.

The music was incredible. It perfectly suited each scene with its macabre melodies and imposing lyrics. It added to the pure intensity of the play.

The actors and actresses portrayed their roles extremely well, and there was not a moment without passionate drama. The director was right. Each of them had at least thirty seconds of appearance onstage. And, unlike a book, you can’t turn back the pages. They have to grab the moment. And that they did.

The message of Rizal was clearly shown. Here, the national hero’s underlying messages were emphasized and became the main focus of the musicale.

I’m too tired to elaborate on my perspectives on the message and its relevance to Filipino society. Hopefully, after successfully completing my math homework, I would be able to do that tomorrow.

Chapter Seven

2008-09-12T19:07:00.004+08:00

I usually feel my blogging best when it's late at night. That's because I’m a nocturnal thinker. I find the solemn atmosphere intellectually stimulating. It allows for deep reflection.

I'm writing this a little earlier than my usual blogging time because I have to go watch a play tomorrow. That means I have to sleep early and I have to wake up early. So, in order to avoid laziness and unwillingness, I have already “programmed” myself for the event.

Last night, during one of my pre-slumber contemplations, I came up with the idea of the simple sentimentalist. Simple sentimentalists are those who value and appreciate beauty in the simple and ordinary things other people would’ve taken for granted.

They listen to both the lyrics and the melody and appreciate the harmony between the two.

They read between the lines and try to pull out meaningful lessons from everyday events.

They stop, stare and wonder.

They appreciate the sentimental value of an object more than its monetary value.

They prefer moments of emotion than moments of superficial achievement.

They are simply artists.

That’s why I came up with Ways to Make a Simple Sentimentalist Smile. (I hope it would become a book one day. Did I mention that simple sentimentalists like to dream?)

Ways to Make a Simple Sentimentalist Smile (#1)
Appreciate his work of art, be it a poem, a painting, a story or a journal entry. These are the sentimentalist’s way of expressing his inner thoughts.

Chapter Six

2008-09-11T22:12:00.004+08:00

The ethics discussion turned out to be a more severe version of the "Would You Rather" game.

Would you rather
Tell on a friend who cheated on a quiz and get away blameless, or
Take the blame, fail the subject, and possible get expelled?

Would you rather
Have your mother die or
Have your fiancée die?

I realized that ethics involves more than just taking sides on global issues. It is also present in personal problems – from molehills to mountains. During the “discussion”, I realized that I’m still handicapped when it comes to practical and moral reasoning. I take time to weigh my options. But no matter how much time I take, I do not always make the right decision.

Here are two lessons which I have learned over the past years:

1. You must have the courage to change what you can, the strength to accept what you can’t, and the wisdom to know the difference.

2. The right thing isn’t always the best thing.

Maybe I should add the Four-Way Test which I often see on the streets. However, it appears too rigid for me.

All these decision-making hodgepodge had lead me to think of my priorities. What are my priorities? Which goes first?

a. the brain or
b. the heart

a. being passive (and maintain peace)
b. being assertive (stand up for something and start a commotion)

a. stay inside your comfort zone and feel safe
b. step out and dare

a.career
b. family

a. myself
b. others

Which goes first?

Chapter Five

2008-09-10T18:49:00.006+08:00

It rained very hard today.

I am fond of watching the rain from the safe recluse of my home. I like to listen to the pitter-patter and the howling of the wind. But when I’m out there being rained upon, it’s a different story. Thankfully, I have no classes today.

I spent my time swerving between homework assignments and leisurely web-surfing today. A blanket of laziness has once again settled itself around me. I wished that the weather would cause all classes to be cancelled tomorrow. For some reason, though, the rain stopped right after dusk.

Once again, I felt distanced from my block-mates. I assume that most of them attended the inter-block debate competition today. I didn’t go. I have my reasons. First, I might be an unlucky charm. My presence might cause my block-mates to lose. Second, the travel costs money and energy, things which I can’t afford to lose.

Tomorrow, our Philosophy class discussion will be on ethics. I have numerous views on ethical issues, and some of them are rather deviant. I’m a liberal at heart. I value human rights. Discrimination and biased judgments are not welcomed.

Actually, if I were to describe the philosopher in me, I would uphold the following principles in life (or whatever they should be properly called):

1. Teleology
Everything happens for a reason. Everything has a purpose. That is why we should never regret. Regret will only makes us bitter. We should learn to realize that the universe is unfolding as it should. It is nurturing us, taking part in helping us realize our potentials. This is also in sync with the Christian belief that God has plans for us.

2. Taoism
I like the paradoxical idea of Tao. It is both uncertain and infinite. It is unity and balance. It is the process – the way. It is a wonder how something so simple could be so complex.

3. Self-prophecy
No. I haven’t read The Secret yet, but I like to think that positive thinking might as well result in, well, positive results. Once an idea is established in one’s system, the tendency of that person will be to move towards the fulfillment of that idea.

My philosophical beliefs are still a bit shaky. I’m not even sure if I should address them as philosophical beliefs. They look like a bunch of contradicting ideas that seem to work for me. Should I add pragmatism to the list?

But my favorite belief is this one:

4. God is always there.
It may be a fallacy to some whose lives are constrained by the rigid rules of logic. But the idea of God being there, well, it clarifies things – things that cannot be explained.

Chapter Four

2008-09-09T22:37:00.004+08:00

I'm sick.

I'm having trouble breathing, my sinus cavities are irritated and my voice sounds like a failed attempt at a Squidward impersonation.

I'm sick.

I had been feeling pretty sluggish most of today. I kept in the corner. I wasn’t in the mood for socializing. But then I’d have to ask myself, when would I be? I had always thought that as the year progresses and as I grow more comfortable with the people around me, I ought to shed off my protective coat of timidity.

The more you expect, the less you get.

Exclusive social circles have now been formed around this time of year. I find it hard to wiggle myself into one without feeling like a complete outsider or a wannabe. And most of all, I’m afraid my social anxiety has returned, but it is not as acute as it had been before. I hope that it doesn’t get any worse.

Looking on the brighter side, I noticed that I am able to project at least a percentage of my true personality. But the lack of completeness cause it to appear awkward. It’s as if I’m trying too hard to be me when it should come naturally just like it had always been.

Hopefully, my remaining four years with my batch mates won’t be similar at all to my years in middle school. I want to come off as the person which I had molded myself into.

But then, I’d have to ask:

What did I mold myself into?

Chapter Three

2008-09-08T21:35:00.007+08:00

I passed my Math Departmental Exam.

I know how unbelievable that sounds, but it's the truth. For humility's sake, it was a barely passing grade - just two points above the borderline which separated the doomed from the blessed.

Nevertheless, it was a passing grade.

I wondered if it had something to do with the Buddhist bracelet which I wore to the exam proper. Or maybe it was the wish on an eyelash ritual that I frequently do. (Note: I used to make the same deep-in-my-heart wish on every fallen lash – but that was way back when. I still wonder if the wish will come true, though.)

Or maybe, it was simply because of my prayers. God could work miracles.

That was why I treated myself all throughout the rest of the day. I smiled, I laughed and I ate tamarind candy. I know how simple and meager that may sound, but I have always believed in how little things could make big differences.

I hoped that more people would be able to appreciate the beauty in simplicity, the impact of subtlety and the intensity of tranquility.

Chapter Two

2008-09-07T12:08:00.005+08:00

I woke up this morning looking forward to that enthusiasm to tackle my homework assignments. However, I woke up feeling lazy and lethargic. It's as if I want another do-nothing day-off.

I changed my layout again. I finally made up my mind that changing layouts is my way of expressing my perfectionism regarding exterior appearances. Maybe it has something to do with my uncertainty on how to define myself. I have to admit that I do not know myself as much as I ought to.

Anyway, I’m thankful that this weekend isn’t as loaded as the others. I only have two homework assignments and they all involve writing. No math. No hard readings. However, with all the spare time, the right thing to do would be to read ahead and get a head stat on the following week’s lessons. The wisest thing to do, I believe, is to wind down. I know how college is supposed to be the more serious and uptight version of high school. But I am still a firm believer in Mr. Einstein’s equation:

“If a is a success in life, then a equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut.”

I was supposed to go shopping today but I just wasn’t in the mood. I guess I had been spending too much time away from home that I preferred to keep in touch by spending the whole weekend in my comfort zone.

No adventures for me today.

Chapter One

2008-09-06T19:16:00.005+08:00

It took me hours to search for just the perfect layout along with a perfect name for this blog. It first began as a blog entitled "My Mode of Operation" which is cross-linked to Multiply. It was a mess.

So, I gave up on "publicizing" my blog. I decided I'd be better off with one which could serve as an outlet for my emotions, thoughts and the like, without having to worry about what others would think of me.

This blog will be just like a diary. However, it won't just focus on the events that had happened that day. It will also be a log of my perspectives and opinions. It might also serve as a burnbook. It might serve as a movie review, food critic and book review. It would be everything rolled into one.

Today's topic is going to be the Truth. Our philosophy professor told us to think about.

What is the Truth?

The truth is one thing I will never know.

There are things which I contemplate on, and no matter how many times I go through it and no matter how much I try to view it through all angles, I can never seem to arrive at one distinct conclusion.

God is the only One who knows the Truth.