Tag Archives: growing up

Reflection

I’m so confused.
Today, I broke my personal coffee cup. Not on purpose; it slipped from my grasp, but I don’t understand how it happened. I wasn’t holding anything else with the hand holding it, and it’s just too stupid to attribute it to drowsiness, since I got up like 30 minutes ago.

I can’t help but think that it’s an omen or a manifestation of the internal turmoil building inside of me. The guy I’ve been posting about, my muse for the last poem? He’s finally came around, emotionally, and I’ve never felt so gratified about making an effort about someone. We’ve cleared up how we’ve come to feel about each other. To quote one of the touching things he said,

Love and relationships are strange things, for something that can make you feel like the world is yours would also make you feel tortured–and yet people seek it. I wasn’t seeking it but it came to me.

His mother’s apprehensions about him entering a relationship came up, since he was quite a wreck from his previous one. That plus my mother’s misgivings, including that he may be a distraction from my focusing during my last year of college, challenged me to prove them wrong. I can say that I’ve been the more stable one lately, for I’ve been avoiding being attached to him due to previous conversations in which he made it clear that ‘us’ would never work out. He’s admitted that he doesn’t experience the stability I experience, emotionally, but then he hasn’t been holding himself back almost the entire time like I’ve been.

I want to make this work, for both of us, because I like how we support each other’s ventures and interests; it feels more mature than the last ‘relationship’ (for my last ‘serious’ guy and I never got to be together) I’ve been in. We’re both graduating next year, so we know where our priorities lie. Also, I really like how we can just be together in person and not feel the need to say anything to each other. Our coffee shop ‘dates’ felt really comforting and..something, I don’t know what’s the word for it. The feeling of being productive, feeling the support from across the table, then glancing up to find him studying his paper intently or to find him glancing at me; him reaching his hand across the table, seeking mine, all the while still studying. I still don’t think we have much conversational chemistry, but I know I can’t help grinning like a fool whenever I see him. I also think it’s nice how we are in very different fields of study yet we feel comfortable sharing things about our work to each other. I’ve come to learn how his mind wanders when he becomes quiet, but more recently I know they’ve been wandering to other things still related to me. I feel chastised yet cared for when he expresses concern about my safety, for he’s rarely (never, so far) too pushy about it. He understands that I am my own woman, that I know what I’m doing.

Wow, blogging really enables me to reflect. When I started writing this post, I was in turmoil for I felt stuck yesterday. After The Talk on Friday night, I was feeling just.. ‘meh’ yesterday while talking to him! I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. All the time he was happily sharing things with me, and I actually felt the urge to stop replying! Then last night, I dreamt about being in relationships with 2 different boys (a local celebrity and another guy from school whom I know is in a stable relationship) and I couldn’t understand how my subconscious could have dreamt those scenarios up. But now, I think I’ve gained clarity and perspective.

Hoping things turn out well,
*******23

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The Day I Realize that I Can’t Live Up to My Mother’s Dreams

Yes, in my life’s bucket list is making my mom really proud of me. For details, read on.                   Photo courtesy of http://thebettermanprojects.com.

March 12, 2014.
Just in case I don’t get to upload this blog post on the actual day.

It’s Saturday and we just got back a couple of hours ago from Tagaytay (Philippines), where my mom has decided she’d settle in when she gets older. It’s pretty cold and windy up there and one need not be paranoid about floods anymore (compared to where we live now, which is in Malabon–again in the Philippines) since, as the land-seller says, “If it floods even one inch up here, you can be assured that the rest of (Metro) Manila has sunk.” I can say it’s a really great place to settle in: no need for airconditioning despite the Philippines’ tropical climate, relatively friendly neighbors, quiet village but not so far from civilization, et cetera.

Anyway, we get back home and my oldest sister tells me about this series entitled Veronica Mars. It’s basically an old series (2004-2007?) starring Kristen Bell who is the daughter of a private investigator and has taken to following her father’s footsteps. Kinda like Nancy Drew, but more independent and whose ‘hobby’ is semi-supported by her dad. So we’re watching this series in the dining room since my mom was busy multi-tasking and cleaning out the refrigerator, when I checked out my CRS site to view my grades this semester. See, despite being a sort-of decent, well-rounded student with no harmful vice to speak of (i.e. drugs, alcohol, smoking), I just got to be a College Scholar (hereafter referred to as CS) this semester.

Some terms:
CS is a recognition given to those who manage to acquire a 1.75 general weighted average (GWA) for a semester. Our grading system is such that 1.0 is the highest, 3.0 is the passing, and anything below that is failing; ergo, the lower the grade, the better. Those who get a GWA of 1.45 and ‘below’ for a semester are recognized as US or University Scholars.
CRS is our school’s online..database of sorts where we enlist our subjects and view our grades and whatnot. Oh, jsyk, I’m in college.
Latin honors.. I really don’t think I need to explain anything about this except that in our grading system, you get to be a cum laude with a GWA, for your whole college life, of at least 1.75; magna cum laude for at least 1.45; and summa cum laude for at least 1.20.

Back to the main story.
Needless to say, as it is my first time to be a CS, I was ecstatic. Of course I want to be at least a CS for my remaining summer and 2 semesters now that I know I can do it, so it came to me to calculate the lowest GWA I’d have to get in my remaining 33 units to qualify for Latin honors. The short of it is I’m gonna need 1.1212 to qualify for cum laude. Thing is, if I could do it, I would’ve done so ages ago.

I’m not limiting myself by saying that, partly because I don’t want to jinx any chances of getting higher GWAs in the future. But given my extracurriculars and apparent capabilities (and other things), I think that getting a GWA above 2.0 is already an achievement for me. Furthermore, it will be my senior year when the next academic year starts. I’m not belittling my siblings, but I am proud that I will be (with God’s will) the only one among us who will graduate on time, besides the only one who hasn’t failed anything during her undergraduate course (and hopefully, will continue to be so), along with being the first to be recognized as at least a CS during her undergraduate years.

However, other realizations come to mind. See, I was a really bad daughter when I was in elementary–which was also when, ironically, I was at my best when it came to academics. I always told myself that it’s okay since I bring home good grades, that my easily-aroused irritation and bad attitude should be excused because of the high grades I bring home. Despite how mediocre my grades were during high school, I was still proud because I studied and graduated from one of the top high schools in the country and got into a prestigious course at, dare I say, the top university in the country. Needless to say, it was the only school in the country that is offering my course. I now realize that the things mentioned above, along with the comparisons I made with my siblings’ alternate academic journeys, made me complacent and developed a somewhat dampened sense of superiority in me. It made me put my self in the area of exceptions. I realized that the way I thought when I was in elementary never really went away, that I still was a douchebag of a daughter at times since I believed that I can still redeem myself in my mother’s eyes with my grades.

But when life throws you a curveball, you either gotta meet it head on or avoid it, if you can. I don’t think I can avoid this particular curveball, so now I’m facing it head on. I’ve always been so proud of my academic achievements, no matter how small they may be to others (most people, actually) since, besides being testaments to my brain’s capacity and my ability to multitask, they make my mother proud. See, my mother has this habit of owning other peoples’ actions and decisions. With my sisters not exactly rushing to graduate and the other troubles that I will not mention here, I feel proud of making my mother feel that she succeeded in raising us. I want to be the exception among the three of us, in a good way, because she raised us all the same way and I believe that having at least one of us turn out the way she expected will make her realize, “Look, I did a great job of raising my kids after all.” With all these in mind, I had two goals upon entering college: 1) graduate on time, and 2) graduate with honors.

Of course the second goal was replaced with “SURVIVE”, especially during semesters of taking prerequisites to our majors, some of whose relevance to my course I cannot fathom. Now that I realized that I most likely, by which I mean 95% probability, will not graduate with honors, I feel disappointed in myself and for my mom. My mother herself graduated magna cum laude, and that is without the comforts of our living situation today, either financially or brought about by modern times. Our grandmother was super strict on her and her siblings out of necessity, and she did household chores everyday while she was a student. Not one of us followed in her footsteps (both honors-wise and in the chosen field), and I know it must be hard raising us as, virtually, a single mother.

I know that I’m a pretty decent person but now I realize that I’d have to grow up a bit more, and not hide my faulty attitude behind a wall of numbers. Now that I know I won’t be able to make my mom proud of me in the way I hoped to, I have to redeem myself not just through grades but also through being a better daughter. I know this means less tantrums, less shouting, less arguing, and more patience, more persevering, and more succumbing to her ‘will’. I know this will be hard, because I think she has more than enough control over my life as of the moment; but the thought of having her realize that her best was, and will always be, more than good enough to make us the best versions of ourselves (besides our ‘soulmates’, if we are to meet them. hoho) is more than worth it. Starting tonight, I resolve to be a better daughter in all aspects.

And unlike my apparent attitude towards my New Year (2014) post’s goals (finishing at least one Tribesports challenge every month and blogging every month), I intend to stick to this.

“He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared, air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him — and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he’d found something he could do without being taught — this was easy, this was wonderful.”
— excerpt from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

Oh, What a Day.

Can’t seem to think of any other way to express my sentiments. Sigh.                                             (Photo courtesy of vimeo.com)

Where to begin? I guess I’ve been setting myself up for this day, thinking that I would be able to do whatever I put my mind to. But my body had other plans.

This post is impulsive, because I just had to get out of the confines of my head, which at the moment is obsessed with reading the Hollows series by Kim Harrison. My mind seems to have forgotten that I have papers and exams coming up, and decided to let me stay up until the wee hours of the morning just reading. Finishing 3 books in four days when you still have to go to school for a minimum of 8 hours a day, plus gym thrice a week, and still get to do all the homeworks and read all the assigned journals and books is no small feat. Probably exactly why I wasn’t able to accomplish it.

Today was the last exam for the first half of one of my majors – and I totally bombed the it. I think I’d be lucky to get 30 percent from the restriction mapping and the other things I was able to guess, but I don’t plan on getting my hopes higher than that. I didn’t want this to happen to me, or at least that’s what I keep thinking. For the past few days, my classmates have been studying their butts off for the exam and doing papers while I work on papers and read Harrison’s novels. And to think I plan on applying for the laboratory of the teacher whose test I bombed.. I don’t know what’s going on with me, and what blew my priorities away.

I truly hope I’d be able to get back on track. Thankfully, there are still some silver linings in this huge, threatening cloud. Having finished books 2-4 of the Hollows series (namely, The Good, the Bad, and the Undead; Every Which Way But Dead; and A Fistful of Charms), I now bring my 2014 reading goal to 5 down, 18 to go! Yes, this series is violent and has a little bit of erotica woven into it (because where there are vampires, sex often follows) but the way K. Harrison wrote the books makes me want to live in that world she has created. Oh, when will the Turn take place on my Earth?

To clarify: I wasn’t able to finish studying for my exam because I fell asleep. ‘Finish studying’ is even pushing it, since I didn’t even get to read or go through at least half of the coverage of the exam. I also wasn’t able to finish a paper on biological ballistics due today, but the universe/God decided to give me a helping hand and our 10 am-1 pm class was cancelled, giving me loads of time to finish it. Which brings to mind: why am I writing a blog post when I should be finishing the paper? The fate of the paper solely rests on my laptop’s battery; thank God I had the sense to buy one from Acer’s Aspire Timeline X line.

To finish this post, I admit that this is one of those times that I truly lost track of what I’m supposed to be focusing on at this point in my life. While I know I’m going to be regretting the results of my lack of sense of priority, I don’t regret the things I did. I truly enjoyed myself while doing them, even when they added virtually irreversible bags under my eyes. And to top it all off, I still have my gym time to look forward to this afternoon. I guess it isn’t all so bad, right? But if the Sorting Hat was to have a say, I doubt he’d consider putting me in Hufflepuff even for just a second.

“..For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, and I can cap them all.
There’s nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can’t see,
So try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart;
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff where they are just and loyal;
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you’ve a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin, you’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don’t be afraid! And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none), for I’m a Thinking Cap!”
— excerpt from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

Missed Connection: A Visit Down Memory Lane

^I’m not such a fan of breaking the words in the wrong places, but I really like the concept. (Photo from http://www.buffalocomedy.com/)

I’ll get right into it because it’s a school night and nearing 2 am already. This is just one of those things that’s been bugging me for a while now, and even causing some restless dreams..so cliche, right? Moreover, the thoughts may have been reinforced when my family started watching the series entitled Sherlock. If you’re a fan of both the books and the past movies, I highly recommend you watch this; after all, there’s just 3 episodes to a season (and the show is currently on its third). The simple connection was this: Benedict Cumberbatch’s appearance reminded me of this guy. Of course, I don’t mean to say that he was as sexy as dear Sherlock, but he shared the general look.

When I was in my early years of high school, I was inclined to be close to some upper years because they were our ‘guides’ as to how to get around the campus, and they were our ‘seniors’ in various organizations. I was pretty sociable but I’ve never really been part of the popular ‘in’ crowd; I gravitated towards ‘more lonely’ people who seemed interesting but just didn’t have an ear to tell their stories to. If I was lucky, I’d end up with a really quiet person whom I’d gradually get to open up to me. This was (and still is, when it happens) gratifying because you can feel the person’s trust building and I’ve always found it nice, seeing them ‘come out of their shells’.

Moving on, there was this boy that I think was at least 2 years older than me; I don’t remember seeing him while I was in my junior year, but maybe I was just too preoccupied with my academics and same-age friends by then. Like B. Cumberbatch’s version of Sherlock, he was white, tall, and had a lanky frame; I think he wore glasses from time to time. He looked like he has some foreign blood, and I remember having primarily-English conversations with him. Thinking back, he seemed to prefer being by himself. Nevertheless, I distinctly remember taking walks with him around or school’s oval, something I don’t normally do with people unless we have long, interesting conversations. I truly hope I wasn’t obvious, but I had a crush on him back then. We got along quite well, although I don’t remember how exactly we stopped talking to one another..

Fast-forward to college. I remember thinking where he could have gone, if he even decided to stay in the same country. I didn’t dwell on it; I was pretty preoccupied with adjusting to college life and trying to face my impending academical challenges with renewed ardor. But one day, I saw him: it wasn’t hard to mistake that face for anyone else’s. He grew his hair out and was then sporting a shoulder-length head of curls, not that it fit him well. I distinctly remember feeling the urge to hide and at the same time wondering why he was alone, and whether he would remember me. I’d say we were quite close in high school, so who’s to say the past cannot repeat itself?

I was able to put him out of my mind in time. My classes pretty much confined me to my college’s set of buildings, and I never so much as caught a glimpse of him in the past semesters. But this semester, I’m taking a GE (General Education) class in the Archaeology building, which he seems to frequent. He got a haircut (oh yes please, now you’re looking more like Sherlock!) and looked as if he didn’t change at all since high school! Which then made me reconsider reacquainting myself with him. I eventually got curious enough to consider greeting him sometime; curious at to whether our previous closeness can be reestablished, and whether he just really preferred to be alone like before but still had an interesting personality.

I have doubts of course. I don’t remember his name. He would have recognized me several encounters before if he did remember me, but he showed no signs of recognition. I don’t remember anything specific about him, I just remembered being close to him; consequentially, I feel apprehensive at approaching him because I have no idea on how to open the conversation on a lighthearted yet familiar and welcoming note.

We’ll see in the coming days whether my curiosity gets the better of me, or not.

On other news, I’ve re-finished the first 5 books of the Harry Potter series! I’m now on the 6th book, which is just fitting as I was able to choose the corresponding films as the subject on my upcoming report in my Film GE. I’m supposed to focus on the essay; but it never hurt being familiar with the original works, right? 😉

Mr. Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well.. how curious.. how very curious..” He put Harry’s wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, “Curious.. curious..”
“Sorry,” said Harry, “but what’s curious?”
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar.”
–excerpt from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone