one production number. one practical laboratory test. one incentive paper. two long tests. two ten-page papers. twenty-three handouts. one hundred thirty-seven pages. dozens of hours for studying. and then save some time for an entry. gee, don't i love you so much, dear reader?
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but then, love is a choice everyone is supposed to make. and it's a choice both you and i must respect without regretting its consequences.
by the way, did anybody notice those streamers in sm's department stores, them highlighted with hearts, saying "celebrate love"? heck, how are we supposed to celebrate love? as one guy put it (again), "love is a choice. choices are made, not celebrated. ergo, we don't celebrate love. we make love."
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after one-and-a-half semesters, i found out that i already had three - yes, three! - UP IDs. my first one had some judgmental-typographical error, hence i had it corrected.
the second, i lost on my way to school about one fortnight ago, unaware that i let it slip from my pocket to my seat. i went back home, took my first ID with me, folded it into four parts (thus deeming it tampered), and had another ID printed - voila, my third ID.
by a stroke of pure luck, i got my second ID back a week later, giving me a spare ID in case of emergency, like the tampered one.
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when will i ever get to talk to you again? not that you care, but... oh well. never mind.
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belated happy birthday to anna caballes [feb1]. tell you what, every scientian back at the tambayan was singing for you, and you ought to thank them. you didn't know that? of course, they sang for me by mistake. you should've been there. i mean, that was really embarrassing.
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i want to be a four-year old again. yeah, never mind those who say that high school/college life, is the best stage in one's lifetime. i want to be a kid again.
you know, kids don't worry about their daily allowance, or the kitchen sink's status, or their body fats, or how would a four-year old girl react if he kissed her on the cheek. for our society, kids are the most adorable creatures roaming the earth regardless of how human (or un-human) you seem to be.
if you're fat, you're called cute. if you're not fat, they'll fatten you up, without you thinking how you're supposed to grab that cloud-9 bar without spending anything - you just cry, and here goes candy/lollipop/chocolate for you.
furthermore, kids only eat, watch, play, and sleep. no pressure from anyone to study hard - if you do well, you get to have three smiling stars stamped on your forehand! and if you don't, there's still a smiley face and candies for you (just don't forget to cry in front of your mommy and you'll go along fine).
and did anyone ever wonder why kids are so energetic? how can they possibly play non-stop for hours? well, except for the occasion that 1) a bully comes to wreak havoc, but that can be easily taken care of - cry out loud, and bad guy's mommy will spank the brat for you and/or 2) someone gets hurt or wounded - but these scars can be treated with betadine, right?
in contrast to that, adolescents find it real hard to please their elders, thus they worry a lot. they tend to conserve their energy, not for play, but for things that they are so stressed about. studying becomes a must, and so does diet control.
and crying won't get you anywhere. no candies or toys or props or whatever. bullies become the authorities, and their mommies are the ones who get spanked a lot. worse, pain inflicted by the wounds are now not relieved by physical treatment, not even by crying your heart out.
however, i'd like to think that adolescents learn just that - the whole universe might be really hard to please, the world might be unfair, pain might be something that is here to stay for eternity; yet the salient things are those which transcend pleasures and pains that are felt; that all perceived by the senses are but shadows of what is the essence, the untangible, the real.
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i got clotheslined by my sibs four days ago. unfortunately, what was meant for the chest went to the face, specifically the eyes and the eyeglasses, which eventually broke and horribly scarred my face. the next evening, i brought home a box containing one hundred mediplast band-aids, noting that at the current rate, a dozen of them won't last to april.
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it's been devastatingly cold the past two weeks. temperature in manila dropped by seven degrees from its norm of 30, forcing people to wear windbreakers or thin jackets even when the sun is at its azimuth.
in baguio, hundred millions' worth of potatoes and cabbages were destroyed due its near-record-low 5-degree celsius environment. curiously, hotel reservations were at an all-time high in the summer capital of the world - my theory is that filipinos want to see snowflakes falling from the sky down to philippine soil... but well, as they say, only here in the philippines.
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for all those wondering why i have not been sending group messages through text like haywire before globe telecoms raised the prices of their famed unlimitxt scheme, it is because i have not messaged a single globe sim-owning soul since a friend told me that she will not be texting anyone until valentine's day. i thought that her idea was nothing short of brillant, thus i followed suit...
...until one day she sent a group message. regardless, i'm sticking to my word. anyway, i still think the new prices are relatively cheap, compared to the humungous SMS volume the philippines logs per day, us being the "texting capital of the world"...
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micapaps: i've heard the day the music died... about ritchie... uhh... maybe you got a point. (kidding.)
gerald: so, you noticed too? teehee.
tom hagen: i hope we can discuss this with don vito. otherwise...
don vito corleone: one wish to grant is enough, my lord... i want tom hagen's head on a silver platter.
el terible: wanga akong naintindihan. terible nga ang lingwahe mo.
ronald: hala, naniwala naman kayo kay rap. that's absolutely untrue.
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g-b: sorry, i know this was two days late, but this was the best i could've done, given the awful situation i'm in... (",)
