Being Pessimistic vs. Self-Control... Goodbye 2010..

This month, I've been experiencing challenges that came from nowhere..I don't know if I should be happy that my patience is being tested. It's also a great month - spending time with my friends, being happy, traveling and everything. Although, it's really disappointing because the thing that makes me happy is gone. You may think that it's silly but that thing is my way of expressing myself, if I'm upset I use it (edit pictures, watch movies, surf the internet,save everything that I want..etc..)- I think you already know what I'm talking about. Now that I have nothing to use, especially in making our project, I feel very pessimistic. I think I will get a very low grade if we're not going to finish it. I think I can't pass our activities in our lab. I think my life is miserable, knowing that I have nothing to do.

This morning, I can feel my blood boiling because of anger. Why? Well, my step-dad is home. I shouldn't be sad about that but I feel uncomfortable especially because he will drink and will get drunk. I think I'm just scared but I don't really want how he acts and talks. It's all nonsense to me. I know I'm being  selfish, but I can't just pretend that I'm happy because I've been doing that in school (sometimes) and I'm getting tired of it. I'd rather be with my friends than to stay at home because I'm not really that close to them.

I may sound really bad because of what I'm talking about. I just want to type it on these keyboard because I have no one to share it too. I've been controlling myself not to destroy my things because of anger. I get really mad when I'm upset and I'm going to regret it if my things are damaged and become useless.

I have lots of question, some are arguments, and what if's. I know that I can make it. I just hope because I don't to change my course you know. I just want to say goodbye 2010 and hello 2011. I hope there will be a "good" change. This will be the start of everything nice. ",)

-G-

Hello :)

Advance Happy New Year people!!! ^^,

-G

TWLOHA - Melisa and Nikki :))

via @Rosmelie

Ok. So, just like what I've said I'm going to let you on how did I knew about TWLOHA. I'm lucky Rosmelie from twitter agreed to post this pic here in my blog. :)

Her name is Melissa Rivett (She owns this picture with Nikki Reed). What can you say about it?  It's beautiful right? :)) I love it. She's lucky because she met Nikki Reed . As we can see, aside from Nikki and Melissa we can see a dog bowl with FIDO written on it. What else? We can see that they have the word "LOVE" on their arms. Which is associated with TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms)- it is a non profit movement that is dedicated to present people hope and to let you know that there are people in this world who loves you and cares for you. And that you can find home with the people around you.  :))


We can show others hope and our love by writing LOVE on our arms just like what Melissa and Nikki did.

This is my arm with LOVE written on it :)

To Write Love On Her Arms .....

Visit : TWLOHA 

"The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."   "We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home. "

> I took/copied these paragraphs from the site of twloha (click the link above). You should read it.
I'm going to write LOVE on my arm soon :)



♥Geli

(Next time, I'm going to write about - how did I knew about it :))

This made me shocked and scream!!!!

I didn't expect that this link contain something beautiful..My gawd! Good for me I don't have heart disease or else I've had a heart attack!

It's my classmate's fault.


http://www.banat.tk

News articles.....

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/A-Strong-Password-Isnt-the-nytimes-3369144559.html?x=0

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100907/ap_on_sc/ml_egypt_ancient_city_by_the_sea_2



I just wanna share these articles with you :)

I love Nikki Reed :)

I've just discovered this way of editing pics,maybe some of you already new about it, so I've tried to edit Nikki Reed's pictures.. It's not that great/good but I love it..Because it's Nikki Reed :)

Spending my time alone......

Yesterday they were planning to go to visit Manaoag and pray. But I decided to stay at home because I thought it would be raining hard just in the past few days. I kept Myself busy, knowing that I can wake up late in the morning for it's Sunday. I played games on Facebook, I watched some video's in Youtube, I've read POV's and most especially I joined operation MNRTT (Make Nikki Reed Trending Topic). For me, it was fun participating along with some Nikki Reed fans. We've tweeted a lot of things about Nikki Reed, we've reached tweet limit (I've reached it twice and once). It was really fun though disappointing at the same time because not all who said they will join participated.Anyway, even if Nikki didn't become a trending topic we still love her (^^,)..

It was tiring, I lack sleep and I woke up at 8:00am. I feel empty this morning. I have realized that I'm alone. I'm also disappointed because they said they're going to cook and buy pizza but they didn't. So what I did is, I get out of bed, bring my laptop in the "sala" opened it and logged in. I also get the broom and clean, I did the laundry and then after that I boiled water and cook noodles for my breakfast. I need not to be a liar, right now I'm telling you, I don't know how to cook but I can easily learn:). That's the good thing about me.

After that, I was sitting in front of my laptop and then they came home. I thought they would be staying there until the afternoon. I guess they got tired easily. I'm a little disturbed knowing that I have companions and I can't do anything I want. I've kinda liked the atmosphere while they're not here. It's silent, full of freedom, and relaxing. However, I've changed my mind when they told that we're going to watch movies. I really love to watch movies and I'm so excited. I need to go bath. And then we're going to buy some things.

Ok, till here. God bless :D

-Geli

Major major FAIL... :(

Today is the second day of midterm exams, I thought it will be a great day.. I woke up early, I took a bath, I ate, I brushed my teeth and then I wore my new uniform :)) ..

I thought it will be perfect because I'm sure that I can answer everything. My mind is set and nothing is bothering me. My first exam is a little easy. But damn! I didn't finish it. My time is not enough to finish everything. I was a little upset but I easily forget about it.

The second exam that we took was IT5, one of our major subjects. It was also easy and a little tricky because of the given functions. We attempted to consult our teacher but he told us before that everything that's in the test paper is not an error. He really did and plan for that. I am pretty sure that I will pass that. After that we had our lunch and then after taking our lunch we sat in a shed. We are laughing, sharing thoughts, and reviewing for our last exam for this day. It was a lot of fan answering some problems.

Few mins. before the bell rings, we went in the basement. We had some bored works and when it's my turn, a teacher open the door and said, "What are you doing? You're not just noisy but you're also vandalizing.. You are all noisy I can hear you in the other class and they're taking exams. Crisna be responsible enough to make your classmates quite. " My goodness she's kj (kill joy), we're just having some bored work and she said we're vandalizing?? Gosh..We were all quite in the room when the others entered. Feeling like wishing we didn't write on the bored..

We sat next to each other and the others sat on the other side of the room. Until everyone came, but our teacher is not yet there. For God's sake! The proctor, he's so late, not just late late but super late, we took the exam in just 40 mins, I think? . And we didn't finish half of the second page. I'm really upset because I didn't finish everything. After the bell rang, I'm still rushing to answer some questions too bad I answered it WRONG! I am really disappointed for not finishing it. And I cried ;( .. i hope our IT5 teacher will give us another chance to take it.

Something interesting that caught my eye....

http://health.yahoo.net/experts/healthieryou/tired-water-read

Tired of water? Try to read this.. :)

A very bad day :[

huhuhuhuhuhu... I was absent in my first subject and it's a warning!
If I get absent again, I'm dead because I will be dropped.

Damn vehicle! I was thinking of riding a tricycle going to school but I entered a jeep.
On the way, it was traffic! It turned and it didn't go directly in our school.
I think today should be the Friday the 13th. I'm not lucky :( because the gates were closed! Damn!
huhuhu.. ;(

Inspiring citizen...

There is this site shared by Nikki Reed . And I'm going to share it too 'coz it is really inspiring. :D

http://www.happynews.com/news/922009/volunteer-collects-100-000-cans-raise-19-smiles.htm

In our simple way, we can help others by selling cans, bottles, and papers. George Ouellette is a good role model :)

Aquaintance night (AS-TE-IT-CRIM DEPARTMENT)

It was FUN!FUN!FUN! ... :D

Once in a year, our department have acquaintance party to welcome the first year students and for us to have fun. The show started with a prayer and we sang our National Anthem and after that we had the Bingo Social. It is fun but not that fun because I never win! :(

It was still a lot of fun because I'm with my friends:) taking pictures, laughing, cheering, and enjoying the night.

Sometimes I think that it's better for me to stay outside or to stay with my friends. Why? Because... I'm not that close to my family. When I got home, I stay in the room making my assignments or i stay in front of my laptop surfing the net. (I find my life boring.)

Theme: "Breaking Barriers, Transcending Boundaries, Stepping to the Future. "

This was actually cool because it's theme was futuristic. I was actually thinking of Lady Gaga. The contestants wore their futuristic costumes and 1 of my friend and our classmate joined but he didn't win.. hmmm..

Here are some pics: (it's not in a better quality but I'm still going to share :)

Before we went out, we had a mark to signify that we can still go back inside.

Warning!!!

It was yesterday afternoon, when I noticed this one:

I asked my sister," Since when did they fix the road?" and she said," LOL! You're going to school and yet you didn't notice it?"

I swear i didn't notice this warning. Maybe because I always rush in going to school so I didn't have time to look at the road ..haha..

The beauty of editing pictures :P......

For a person who's not that familiar with photo shop, it's not that easy to perform such activities. You  need to be familiar with the tools and its functions. You also need to learn on how to be creative to pass a good output especially if the given time is 1 hour.

Last semester, I had a  hard time finishing my activities. I have never tried to edit and create pictures using Adobe Photoshop or Macromedia Fireworks before. The only thing I used in editing my pictures was Microsoft Office Picture Manager. As an IT student I need to learn everything - how to adjust color, insert objects, re-size photos, add effects and many more.

Sometimes I thought that I made the wrong decision. That IT is not my field. And I don't belong. Because I am not that good when it comes to editing and creating pictures. But as time passes by I learn new things and I started to enjoy everything in our class. There are times that I teach myself and discover things. "Learning new things" is my field. I always love to explore.

Here are some of my work: 

This is my very first work :) I don't even know what that means...haha.. I just tried to re-size it and applied colors.

This is the second one! My professor asked us to combine objects, colors and brushes :) too bad.. I'm a crappy artist I didn't finish my work ....

As you can see, this pictures are the same - pencil effect, negative effect, and feather effect ☺

It's too obvious that it is edited because of the outline..err.. Her pant's original color is white and then we adjusted the hue and saturation.

At first we didn't made it right, so our teacher asked us to do it again ..haha..

And the last one....

TADA!!!!!!

  Actually this is my project (our professor called it electronic X'mas card).

I made this for my high school sisters. I think it's over decorated and I also think that it's cute.. =]]

What's one thing you own that you should probably throw away, but never will?

my drawings when i was a kid...

Ask me anything

What's your favorite genre of music?

POP,POP ROCK, Country song, alternative rock, blues ..almost all..but it depends on my mood...it changes everyday

Ask me anything

A story of love and family

I have read this story in my friend's tumblr page. I would like to share it to you :)

SAPAY KOMA by Jhoanna Cruz [former instructor of SLU. This essay is not a fiction]

“I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was tall…and in the darkened hall the fragrance of her was like a morning when papayas are in bloom.”
–Manuel Arguilla

On our first Valentine as a couple, he gave me a bowl of white nondescript flowers. They had a distinctly sweet but faint scent. I had never been a fan of Valentine’s Day nor of love like a red, red rose; but that day, I became a believer. He told me they were papaya blossoms from his mother’s garden. At that moment, I knew I would one day marry him. We had started dating only three months ago, but I knew I would be Maria to his Leon. Why, he even had a younger brother the same age as Baldo! And even though they didn’t live in Nagrebcan nor owned a carabao, the town of Itogon, Benguet was remote enough for me. I have always enjoyed teaching the Arguilla story for its subversive take on the role that one’s family plays in a marriage; but having been born and raised in Pasay City, I had no idea what papaya blossoms smelled like. I imagined that my new boyfriend had read the story in his Philippine literature class and meant for me to recognize his gift as an allusion. In fact, I imagined we would defy societal norms and prove that love conquers all. Instead of a “theme song,” our relationship had a story to live up to. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

In the story, Leon brings his city-girl wife, Maria, home to meet his parents for the first time. His surly father orchestrates several tests of Maria’s suitability through Leon’s younger brother Baldo, who is quickly won over by her papaya blossom scent.

The first time I met his parents was on the wedding day of his eldest brother. By then, we had been seeing each other discreetly for seven months, somehow knowing that no one would approve of our relationship. In the midst of the beating of gongs and best wishes, his Kankanaey father only wanted to know two things about me: where I was from and what language I spoke. I gave the wrong answer on both points. I was a Manileña and I couldn’t speak Ilocano yet, having only recently moved to Baguio City to rebuild my life after becoming disillusioned with the institution that had once nurtured my desire to excel. But no love lost, I was only their son’s “gayyem” (friend), after all. It didn’t help that I was wearing a leopard print spaghetti-strapped dress, which exposed the tattoo on my back. I reasoned that the Cordillera culture has a long tradition of body art; so they should appreciate the significance of mine. None of us knew at that time that I was already carrying a half-Igorot child in my womb (which, I imagined, somehow made me an acceptable quarter-Igorot for the nonce).

Against better judgment, we decided to get married. We were under the influence of hormones, of pregnancy, of the Catholic church, of Manuel Arguilla. We would have gotten a quickie secret wedding if he were old enough, or I, wais enough; but by law we needed his parents’ consent. Which they refused to give. For perfectly good reasons.

They could have said, “You shouldn’t marry because he is too young” (and you are ten years older). Or “You shouldn’t marry because he is still studying” (and you were even his teacher). Or “You shouldn’t marry because he has a calling” (and you are snatching him from God).
But instead his mother said, “We can’t give you permission because his brother had just gotten married. In the theology of the Cordilleras, if siblings marry within the same year, one of the marriages will fail. The community will blame us if we allow you to marry.”

So I called my mother, who promptly came to my rescue, writing them a demand letter based on a fallacy: “If your child were the woman in this situation, you would rush to marry them!” I’m sure she was so eager to get me married off because she knew it was a fluke.

What was most ridiculous (though I refused to see it at that time), was that I was a self-proclaimed lesbian feminist. Despite all the tragic relationships I had had with women, I still believed that it was worth fighting for the right of a woman to love another woman. What business did I have getting married to a very young man? And for all the wrong reasons. Must have been oxytocin overdose sponsored by the baby in my womb. Or a planetary alignment exerting mysterious forces on my consciousness. Or, gasp—Love!

Whatever it was, it came to pass. My mother didn’t have to bring my grandfather’s rifle. But I had to do it all on my own: filing the license, finding the Judge, buying the rings, reserving a restaurant, paying for everything. It was a good thing his parents didn’t allow us to tell anybody about the marriage – that way I didn’t have to invite anyone — which lessened my expenses. I had to understand that they had spent all their savings for his brother’s recent wedding, where they had butchered eight pigs for a traditional Igorot wedding feast. And after all, lest we forget, we were getting married against their will. But hey, there they were, on hand to sign the marriage certificate in the sala of the Honorable Judge Fernando Cabato of La Trinidad, Benguet.
The ceremony itself was quick – but peppered with omens. First, when the court clerk asked for my mother-in-law’s name, I told her “Constancia” – because I figured that was where her nickname “Connie” came from. When I asked my nervous groom, he agreed. When the Judge confirmed the information, “Constancia” objected because her name is actually “Conchita.” Judge Cabato made the correction and lectured us about how important it is not to make errors in a legal document. Then, when it came to my father-in-law’s name, the Judge refused to believe that “Johnny” was his real name.

When he asked for the rings, my groom gave him the little box, but when the Judge opened it, it was empty. The elderly honorable Judge sat down and asked, “Is this a prank?” It turned out that the rings had slipped out of the box and were floating in my groom’s pants’ pocket.

When it was time for the wedding kiss, the Judge “got even” with us. He pronounced us husband and wife and then said, “No more kissing, it’s obvious there’s a deposit in there!” Then he laughed hearty congratulations. I wonder now how many times he has regaled a party crowd with our story.

At the reception in a Chinese restaurant, we occupied only one round table, with only ten guests. The pancit canton was very good. We didn’t get any gifts, except for a framed copy of 1 Corinthians 13: “Love is patient, love is kind… love does not keep a record of wrongs…” It wasn’t the wedding of my dreams, but the whole event cost me only Php 2,500. It was as do-it-yourself as DIY could get. That didn’t include the cost of the wedding rings, for which I had to sacrifice some of my old gold jewelry. The irony of it escaped me at the time; but for a modern woman on a budget, there was no room for finesse.

Thus we began our married life: full of contention, confusion, and concealment.
We couldn’t live together immediately; nor was I allowed to be seen in their little neighborhood, where everyone knew everyone. A very pregnant stranger ambling up and down the steep Upper Mangga Road would have been a conspicuous mystery. I continued to live alone in my apartment, with my husband staying weekends, and I pretended in school that my husband is from Manila. I’m not sure anyone actually believed the drama, but I was bathing in first-baby-love, so I couldn’t care less.

My other Igorot friends assured me that when the baby is born, my in-laws would finally accept me as the mother of their grandchild. But as I said, I couldn’t care less. I was a Manila girl – I truly believed that our marriage would succeed even without his parents’ approval of me. I was used to flouting norms and not needing anyone. And for his part, my husband argued existentially that we should live by the integrity of our own little family. You see, he was a Philosophy major under the tutelage of two young Jesuit-educated instructors, who had come to the mountains from Manila to indulge their fantasies about love and teaching (in that order). We, the migrant teachers, smiled at each other in the College of Human Sciences silently acknowledging each other’s foolishness; ignoring the fact that most of the other “native” faculty members looked askance at the three of us.

When our daughter was born, we decided it was time to move into the family home. In the innocent presence of the new half-Igorot baby, all would be forgiven. It seemed the most practical thing to do. But I soon realized how naïve we were. We didn’t take into account all the new wrongs that could be committed while sharing one household.

Before I got married, I had a dog – a black mongrel I had named “Sapay Koma,” which is Ilocano for “sana.” It is both a wish and a prayer – difficult to translate into English, unless in context. Koma was my companion throughout the two years I had lived in my dank, quirky apartment – the mute witness to the drama and dilemma preceding my decision to marry. We took him along with us in our move, of course. But the five other dogs in the new household didn’t like him all that much and they all raised such a nonstop racket, none of the humans could sleep, particularly the newborn baby.

The neighbors offered to buy him for Php 500. Igorots like black dogs because the meat is tastier. I was aghast. He was my dog, my loyal friend. If anyone was going to eat him, it should be family. So my husband invited his friends over to put Koma out of his misery.

I locked myself in our little bedroom with the baby, while they did it. But despite the closed windows, I could still smell the burning hair and later, the meat cooking. The putrid scent seemed to stick to my nose for days after, accusing me of betrayal. I wept for Koma and for all that was dying in the fire – all the wishes that had no place in my new life. I decided that this was the price for what Filipinos like to call “paglagay sa tahimik.”

It took two hours for the meat to be tender enough to eat and when we all sat down to dinner, I was glad they didn’t expect me to partake of the canine feast. Yet I did. I took one mouthful, which I swallowed quickly without chewing, so I wouldn’t have to relish the flavors. I may have had the stomach for it, but I didn’t have the heart. I only wanted to show them that I respected their culture, even though in fact, I would never belong. Also, I was hoping that this way, Koma would forgive me for having failed him, for offering him as a sacrifice at the altar of my marriage. This way, we could be truly together.

For weeks after, every time I overheard my husband reply “Aw, aw” to his father, I would shiver at the prospect that we would have dog for dinner again. They had five other dogs, after all. Luckily, it turned out that “aw” only means “yes” in their language, Kankanaey. Besides, they only butcher dogs on very special occasions. Ordinarily, there was always the savory chicken soup dish, Pinikpikan, which features a similar charred skin aroma and taste. I was quite relieved to learn that his father did not require beating the chicken to death with a stick before cooking, as is customary in the Igorot culture.

To this day, I have not been able to care for another dog. I do, however, have another child. By the same man. Accidentally. It happened on Father’s Day, when we thought having sex was a nice distraction from the confusion that arose from our growing discontent with the marriage. When we found out about the pregnancy, we agreed, albeit reluctantly, that it was Divine Intervention – a sign that we should keep trying to save the marriage.

It was not just the food that was strange. I couldn’t understand why everyday, some relatives would come over and expect to be fed. I had not been raised in an extended family, and even within our nuclear family, we pretty much kept to ourselves. In my mother’s house, we were trained to share through “one for you, one for me, then stay out of my bag of goodies.” You can imagine how I felt the day they served my Gardenia whole wheat bread to the “relatives,” who promptly wiped it out, because my peanut butter was delicious.
Not that I was being selfish. Aside from the fact that I didn’t have any bread for breakfast the next day and the house being a ten-minute hike uphill plus ten kilometers to downtown Baguio City, I fumed about not even being introduced to these relatives as the wife of their son. They would introduce my daughter and her yaya, but I remained a “phantom of delight” flitting about the house.

When I confronted my husband about the bread, he explained that in the Igorot culture, everything belongs to the community. So I took a permanent marker and wrote my name on my next loaf of bread. It was a Saussurean signifier of sorts – and it was unforgivable.

My father-in-law was a man of few words. In fact, my daughter was already two years old when he decided it was time to acknowledge my existence and say something to me. In the past, he would use an intermediary (usually my husband) if he wanted to get information from me. It wasn’t too difficult because by this time we had already moved to Manila and were living in my mother’s house – which was another disaster and another story. It was Christmas Eve and we were spending the holidays in Baguio City. He was watching a replay of a boxing match and I was playing with my daughter in the living room. He asked, in Ilocano, “Do you have a VCD player at home?” I was so shocked I couldn’t reply immediately. He repeated the question in Tagalog. It turned out he was giving us the VCD player he had won in a barangay raffle. That night, as the entire family sang their traditional “Merry Christmas To You” to the happy birthday tune, I felt I was finally getting a fair chance to prove that I was worthy of being in their cozy family.

In our six years together, I can think of more instances in which our separate worlds collided and caused aftershocks in my marriage. But none of it rivaled what I thought was the worst affront to me. My mother-in-law is Cancerian, like me, so her house is a pictorial gallery of her children and their achievements. She had a wall with enlarged and framed wedding photos of her children. Through the years, her exhibit grew, and expectedly, I and my husband didn’t have a photo on this wall. I figured it was because we had not had a church wedding. In fact, when we told them I was pregnant with our second child, they requested that we hold a church wedding already. They even offered to share the expense. But I preferred to save my money for the birth of the baby. However, given my theater background, I once tried to convince my husband to just rent a gown and tuxedo and then have our “wedding” photo taken so we’d finally get on “The Wedding Wall.” But he has always been the more sensible half of our couple.

One day, though, a new picture was added to the wall. It was a studio photo of his eldest sister, her American husband, and their baby boy. It wasn’t “The Wedding Wall” anymore; it was now the “Our Children and their Acceptable Spouses” wall. It was their version of the Saussurean signifier. The message was loud and clear – to me and to other people who came to visit.

I wonder now why it so mattered to me to be on that wall. I guess I felt that after all those years, we had been punished enough for defying the culture. Maybe I actually believed in 1 Corinthians 13. Or perhaps I also needed to be reassured that I was indeed happily married.

I confronted my husband about it and demanded that he finally stand up for me and our family. And he did – he wrote his parents a letter that made his mother cry and beat her breast. We each tried to explain our sides, finally coming to terms with the bitter past. They told me that they are simple folk and didn’t mean to ostracize me; that when they agreed to the marriage, they accepted me as part of the family, no matter what. I believed them. I told them I was never going to be the woman they had probably wanted for their son; but that I am a perfectly good woman, most of the time. We tried to make amends. Our family picture was up on the wall within three days. Our kids were quite pleased.

But it was too late. By then, my husband and I had been grappling with our own issues for the past five years. He had gotten tired of my transgressions and sought solace with his friends. After coming home late from another “Happy Hour” with them, I screamed at him, “What happy hour? Nobody is allowed to be happy in this house!” It was then we both finally realized that we had to face the truth about our marriage. By the time his parents were willing to start over in our journey as a family, we had given up on ours.

Most couples find breaking up hard to do. It was particularly hard for us because we had to convince his parents that it was not their fault. On the other hand, I had to deal with the fact that maybe my marriage did fail because of the “curse” of the superstition “sukob sa taon” – that maybe we were wrong to insist on our choice. Yet on good days, I am pretty sure it was a perfectly “no fault divorce,” if there ever was one.
“Kapag minamalas ka sa isang lugar, itawid mo ng dagat” goes the Filipino proverb. Perhaps the salt in the sea would prevent the bad luck from following you. So today I live with my two Igorot children in Davao City – fondly called “the promised land.” Everyone is astounded when they learn that I had moved even though I knew only one person here – who didn’t even promise me anything. I just wanted a chance to start over. When we moved into this house, it had a small nipa hut in the backyard. The kids enjoyed staying there during the sweltering hot Davao afternoons, especially when their Daddy called them on the phone. But it was nearly falling apart and was host to a colony of termites that had actually begun to invade the house as well.
My generous landlady soon decided it was time to tear down the structure. When I got home one day, it was gone. All that was left was a dry and empty space in the yard; yet everything looked brighter too. We missed the “payag;”but soon the grass crept into the emptiness and we began to enjoy playing Frisbee in the space that opened up. It was a Derridean denouement of sorts.

Last year, we spent our first Christmas without any family obligations. It was liberating not to have to buy any gifts for nephews, cousins, in-laws. All the shopping I did was for my children. I was determined to establish my own Christmas tradition with them. I wanted to show them we were happy. I wanted them to grow up never having to sing “Merry Christmas To You” ever again. I decided to cook paella for noche buena as if my life depended on it. I thought it was simply a matter of dumping all the ingredients in the pan and letting it cook – like the aftermath of a failed marriage. The recipe was so difficult I ended up crying hysterically, asking myself over and over, “what have I done?” My kids embraced me and said, “Nanay, stop crying na.” But I couldn’t. It seemed as if it was the first time I had let myself cry over what I had lost. I noticed though, that the kids did not cry. Embarrassed with myself, I picked myself up from the river of snot that was my bed and finished what I had set out to do – as I always have. It even looked and tasted like paella, despite the burnt bottom. But next year we’ll just order take-out from Sr. Pedro (Lechon Manok).

That night, my mother-in-law sent me a text message saying they are always praying for us to get back together, especially for the children’s sake. I do not know how to comfort her, except to keep saying that we had all done the best we could at the time; that we are always trying to do the right thing; that despite what happened, or perhaps because of it, we will always be a family. Of a kind. We are, after all, inextricably linked by a timeless story and “sapay koma.”

Each of us in this story nurtures a secret wish to have done things differently – to have been kinder, more understanding of each other’s quirks and shortcomings. But it takes less energy to wish it forward. Sapay koma naimbag ti biag yo dita — to hope that your life there is good.


(I wonder when did this happen and if the writer is still alive)

Friday at school...

Laboratory

We always start our class at 7:30A.M. sometimes it's too bad because I don't have enough sleep. And it's bad because I miss a discussion. But yesterday, I am so EARLY! :) 

We had a great time .. I enjoyed our first class - Engl 2 (Effective Writing )..  Me and my friends ate outside the school and then we are worried because we saw the gate closed! And then we found out that there was an earthquake drill which the school didn't mention so we didn't know what's going on..

After that we had our next class- Lit (Phil. and World Literature). At first we are surprised because our professor did not discuss and also shocked because of the 2 sets of photocopy she gave and we must pay ₱29.50. Anyway it's worthy because the stories that can be read has a lot of lesson. Reading a story made by a writer in the past is amazing. :)

me and my classmates carrying some materials for our experiment about equilibrium of force

Physics class:)

Philosophy class

As we enter the room, I saw that they were all busy. And they called me to watch "Vampire Sucks". We were all laughing watching the movie. Too good because our professor didn't show up. A student told us that, if he's not there after 2:15 we can already go home. :) But we didn't, so we continued watching. After that the guard entered the room and asked who our teacher was and he told us to get out of the room to avoid disturbing other classes because of our noise. :) haha..

Beautiful views...people... nature....

I'm starting to miss the beautiful places that I've been... 

It's not out of the country...

It's not in other Islands...

It's not that far from my place...

I am a person who easily appreciates nature. Clean, green and beautiful!  Photography is a way for me to show it. Sometimes it looks good but sometimes I don't get the exact feeling.

This picture shows the view outside Macho Temple.

You may think that its not that beautiful and I'm not going to contradict you because I know that each one of us have the right to share our thoughts.

In this picture, you may think that I'm from China... but I'm not.

Here are some other views that you can see :

As I said earlier, I'm not from China. These pictures are taken here in the Philippines. Macho Temple is a perfect place for Filipino- Chinese people. I loved the view and the ambiance. It's very solemn.

I took this picture at my friend's boarding house

Despite the fact that her room is small and very hot, I didn't realize that I'm going to see a beautiful view outside her window. I think it's beautiful and very clean. The sky is blue and the clouds are white. Its a very fine day =))

First day at college, I didn't really have much friends but I found a real one!!We love the same color. We have the same birthday. We have lots of similarities. ☺ That's why it's not hard to get along with her and her friends. It was also good that her place is near in our school. I really miss those days :)

was taken last December.

With my friends, IT 1D family, (though I'm not 1 of them 'coz I'm from 1A, I just joined..haha!) we had a Christmas party at Jessica's Resort, Bauang, La Union. There is a pool and a cottage inside but we have decided to take pictures outside the resort.. And here it is!

And the last place that I've been to is in Pavillion,Santol, La Union. I really loved that place. It is where we had our recollection. I'm a little sad because my laptop has been reformatted so I can't be able to share more photos.. And I my sister's laptop, where I put my files, were borrowed so I only have a pic.

BSIT 1C family...

************

I love to see these pics again and again. It makes me smile and happy at the same time, but it also makes me feel like missing those times with my friends... I want to go to Europe or America or Africa someday. But I didn't grew up with a lot of money. 

I think there are places in my hometown that I've never been to. ...Places that I can enjoy ☺

Just like in this picture:

This pictures are taken by my best friend for their travelogue. The place was in Arosip, Bacnotan, La Union. 

And I think I just have to wait for the time for me to reach the other continent! :) ... Life is short but beautiful. Let's enjoy life. Enjoy nature. Enjoy what we have. And be contented. Someday, we will reach our dreams. We just need to wait for the right time ^^,

Just like me, I just need to wait, someday I will travel the world not by reading blogs and taking a look in a picture but for REAL! ☺

Thank Blogs!....

I visited a blog before... It was fun reading it. I enjoyed it because her blog brings me to different places.. I'm going to share Coco's blog  to you (just click coco's blog). .....You will also enjoy..

But..

You will think that I'm crazy.. Because her blog is in Chinese and I don't even know how to read Chinese...Most of the times I google it and then translate it to English and most of the times you will laugh because of the bad translation.

After this blog, I have another favorite blog. It's my favorite, ________  blog.. I'm not going to mention a name because someone told us that its blog isn't ready and yet that person is upset because its blog has been found.Whether it is true or not, I will give some privacy because the blog is not yet officially published. If you love to travel, I assure you that you will love this site. The latest post of these 2 blogger is all about Africa.. Animals,places, and people...

I love to travel. And right now, I'm dreaming of going to Africa and other countries! Believe it or not, I'm traveling through the post/stories that they're sharing to us. I may not use my imagination because they provide pictures. And if I'm going to describe everything, I would say, "I LOVE TO READ BLOGS ". 

Blogs are like a book because you learn from the authors experiences..

Blogs are like maps because it brings you to a beautiful place even if you haven't seen it personally.

Blogs are like your best friend because you can say everything that you want ..

=]]

When boredom strikes..... I....

Took pictures, I read books/POV/magazines, I eat, I watch a movie, I do what I need to finish, and as I have said earlier I draw......

Here's my work and I'm going to share it to you.... Right now, I'm telling you that I'm not that good in drawing. The first drawing ever that I made without asking any help was a dog. I was in the 1st grade and our teacher told us to draw.Sometimes, I draw people without faces because it will look different if I'm going to draw their face. just like this:

I found a picture and I honestly tried to draw myself when I was a kid.. Too bad I can't draw my face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's another one:

I made this earlier, and this time its my sister. It doesn't look like her. LOL

After I finished drawing we were all laughing. They told me that the nose or the eye is ugly. So I edited it again. And somehow it improved a little.

Responsibility

Today is a day of worship.. hmm.. But I didn't go to mass... Gosh.. I hope God will forgive me..

Anyways....
Instead of taking a rest, I helped my aunt doing laundry.. It so damn HOT outside..I felt like I'm going to be fried but sometimes the weather becomes good when the clouds hide Mr. Sun.... The sky is beautiful and I really wanted to take a pic, too bad I don't have batteries.

After we finished the laundry, the sun totally hid itself. It also rained today. And I almost have a cold because of the fertilizer factory near us..! nngggrrrr...!!!! It made me mad. I just can't understand why the government officials loves to kill me.. They're really going to kill me with the smell.! And if they're going to ask me, to smell the polluted air or to stay in a room with air condition, I will choose neither of the 2 because they give me a cold. But if I really have to choose of course I'd rather be in a room with air condition..

For me not to smell the air, I went to my room and waited for my aunt and sister to cook the spaghetti and maha. I am so hungry that time. And I will always love to stay in the house and eat than to go outside and party at night just like some my friends.

I don't really  mind being alone. Honestly, I love being alone because it gives silence.I don't want too much noise especially when I'm thinking lot of things. When I'm alone I read, I hold a ball/pencil, paper, and draw. I also love to visit the internet.

New Beginning.....

I made another account for my blog. The reason why I stopped updating the old one is because my teacher followed me... 

haha.. Is that a good reason?

Well, I don't like it when he is asking about my mom or my family. I feel uncomfortable. It's okay if he's reading my blog. But he's always asking me the same question.


Anyway..... I really feel alone.. I want to share my thoughts... 'Coz I need my blog...I can't stop thinking.

P.S.
I need to go to bed.. Good night =]