Got Nowhere Else to Go.

I don’t want to think about school. I have one week left of vacation, and I should be using this time to keep resting and not worrying. But it’s the beginning of enrollment, and my units aren’t complete yet. In addition, I still don’t know my grades in two of my subjects because my instructors didn’t submit the grades last week to the college secretary. And now my tuition fee exemption form is bound to be late because of those delinquent teachers. Sucks really.

I don’t want to think of school because next semester scares the hell out of me, and I haven’t really moved on from last semester because of those [non-existent] grades. Plus I don’t know where I’ll end up after graduation. I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be a journalist, I don’t want to be a teacher, I don’t know. I’m deathly afraid I won’t wind up anywhere good–anywhere I love/will love. Others have it so much easier. My batch mates in DevCom have it all figured out–they’re eyeing places they’ll work at in the future. And people who are studying something different right now have no problem with what job they’ll be having in the future, like my brother. He’s taking up Civil Engineering, and of course that means he’ll be a civil engineer after his board. I know it’s not that simple, but at least they know where they’re going. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Yesterday my parents and I registered for the elections next year. I’d been looking forward to doing so all semester but we never found the “right time.” Luckily, the process was quick and we didn’t take too long.

I don’t quite know what excited me about registering. Maybe it was the idea of being old enough to be able to do something so important. In any case, I’m not exactly psyched for the elections… Who knows who our next president will  be. I can’t help being pessimistic about the politics here, but I do sincerely hope change will come. People are tired; it’s time for a clean and honest election.

When I was a kid, what I loved most in the world next to my family wasn’t my barbie dolls, but music. It would serve as my companion when I found it hard to fall asleep at night.

See, I had sleeping problems as a child, and my parents didn’t know what to do to help me sleep. Sometimes my mom would sleep beside me and assure me that God was watching over me and that He would let me sleep, but she found it taxing to keep doing that all the time. So my parents gave me this old radio they had lying around (which was later replaced with an Aiwa boombox), taught me how to operate it, and told me to just listen to music because it might make me sleepy. It worked, but it took a while.

Eventually I got hooked to the radio stations and found a favorite–Delilah’s station. It’s a lot like Home Radio here in the Philippines, except people get to phone in (on air) their requests. Sometimes kids would dedicate songs to their parents. When that would happen, I’d think about dedicating something to my parents. But I never got around to doing it. I was too afraid my parents would freak out if I did.

So anyway, Delilah would play songs usually about love. I got acquainted with her favorites like Valentine and I Swear. But a song I really liked was Back at One by Brian McKnight.

I remembered it tonight because I kind of am. Back at One, I mean. Back at Square One, even.

I thought I finally had a good thing going–with the sembreak being near and all, and me finally admitting to myself that I was crushing on someone–but things took a giant turn when I discovered something unpleasant, which I don’t even feel like posting here.

So there. I’m sad. But not completely. Like a crush is such a big deal.. Because if you haven’t gathered yet, it’s about him.

I thought I lost you somewhere
But you were never really ever there at all

I’m tired, and sad. I really want this semester to end already. It isn’t fun anymore. I don’t even know if it was fun in the first place.

This is terrible. Me not having fun, when I am loaded with major subjects. Not that that’s supposed to be fun, but I really like my major.

Anyway. I’ve got a meeting in approximately 11 minutes. I’m not excited. Why should I be? But I have to be in this meeting. I missed the one yesterday. Wasn’t entirely my fault… But it sucked. Really.

I can’t wait for semestral break. I’ve got so many activities lined up already….

SIGH. Damn it.

I’m rambling…… nonsense. I’m so uninspired! Maybe that’s my problem. I don’t have a life. And the one person who can bring out the life in me is a thousand miles away, living her own life.

What a bore I am. No wonder my days are like this. I’m so unenthusiastic about everything, because I’m so… empty.

Somebody fill me up. Now.

I’m so sick of all the groupings this semester in my major subjects. I try my best to be a leader most of the time. (It doesn’t show, does it?–That I lead? I look more like a follower who doesn’t give a damn for a project.) But I care. And I am so tired of caring. I’m tired of choosing the direction we’ll go towards, just because nobody else has the initiative. And then nobody even bothers to reply when I contact them.

I’m not saying I’m the only one concerned in a given group. But…

I’m just pissed. And insecure. Do people respect me at all?

Oh God look at the time. I’m in the middle of brainstorming for story topics. Must go.

“It’s all about lines. Drawing lines in the sand and praying like hell no one crosses them. At some point you have to make a decision. Boundaries don’t keep other people out, they fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So you can waste your life drawing lines or you can live your life crossing them. But there are some lines that are way too dangerous to cross. Here’s what I know, if you’re willing to take the chance, the view from the other side is spectacular.”

-Meredith, Grey’s Anatomy

I’ve been thinking a lot about my life this summer. I haven’t done much this vacation, apart from participating in my second cousin’s wedding, spending the holy week in Bicol, PE summer classes, my brother’s high school graduation, my first cousin’s college graduation, and attending the Philippine Press Institute conference at the Manila Diamond Hotel.

Those are big things, but if you look closely, only a few of them are my own activities. I’ve been wanting to improve myself. I’m so dull and boring–that’s the thing–and I want to change.

I’ve recently turned down an offer to join a campus organization. I’d been thinking about it for a year, and it sounds crazy that I didn’t push through with initial plans (because yes, when I first found out what the organization was about, I told myself I’d join. Easier said than done, I guess). It’s almost as if I quit, because like I said I’ve been entertaining thoughts of joining the whole year. But last week, when I was being pressured to make a decision already (although they said they weren’t pressuring me at all), I got scared.

What a wuss.

No, let me explain what frightened–or repulsed–me.

The basic thing that turned me off was the idea of an organization. I hate the initiation crap. What’s the point of people ridiculing you? They say it shows how determined one is. I say it doesn’t.

And then there’s the ninang, sis, brod. I dislike the terms of endearment, and would hate to call anyone my ninang when they could be my age. I must sound like sap, but that’s just the way I am. I never participated in those corny games back in elementary or high school where one of my friends is my mother, another is my grandmother, and yet another is my older brother or my “anak.”

You might say I missed out on a lot of childhood (oh, wait, is that what it’s called?), but trust me, I had childhood. And it wasn’t in some rural area playing House.

Okay, that was harsh. Forgive me, it’s just, in the last few minutes before I made my final decision, I realized that I just wanted some friends to be with. All I wanted was to not look like some pathetic loner anymore and start having some fun. Ever since I went through some complications with a few friends back in the day, I stopped trusting people. I was hurt. And I think in some way, I still haven’t healed.

So why didn’t I give the organization a chance? Because I think that no amount of ideal house-playing can pull me out of my dark abyss if I’m still not ready to trust anybody.

But when will that be?

I’m working on it.

I just finished watching Scrubs.

Today was my first time to watch the show, and I kind of wish it wasn’t. On the other hand, I’m glad; it inspired me tonight. I mean, finally I’m blogging again!

Anyway, this episode I watched from Season 1 was about death. They say 1 out of 3 patients usually die in a hospital, but sometimes the odds are much worse. JD (he’s the main character) was conversing with this old lady who needed to be hooked up to a dialysis because of kidney failure. However, the lady wasn’t willing; she wanted to die already. She wasn’t senile, she just felt she had led a good life already and that she was ready to go.

Now, JD is sensitive about death, (although he’s a doctor), so he makes up this list of things a person has got to do in a lifetime. It turns out the lady has done most of the things he put in there. She then returns the favor: she says, “What about you, how many of those things have you done?…Promise me you’ll do them.” [I'm not sure if these are the exact words. And, as hinted by the ellipsis, I skipped a few lines. IMDB didn't have this in the 'memorable quotes' link for the episode.]

Well, I thought it was neat. I’ve been re-evaluating myself (for the umpteenth time), and I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a ton of things I still need to do. Especially while I’m still a student. [It has dawned on me that I have only two years left of freedom before I have to start working.]

So here’s my own list of things I must do before I die [in no particular order]:

1. Watch The Godfather Parts I, II, and III
2. Watch an opera or a real play.
3. Go to Palawan, Cebu, La Union, Ilocos, the Banaue Rice Terraces, and any place in Mindanao. Just for the heck of it.
4. Visit all the continents, except Antarctica. I must go to at least one country/area per continent. My choices for each–Asia: Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, China, Vietnam, Thailand, Myanmar, Nepal, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore; Australia: Canberra, Sydney, Perth, Melbourne; Europe: Norway, Finland, Sweden, Switzerland, UK, Ireland, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Netherlands; Africa: anywhere; North America: Mexico (when the swine flu stuff has died), Canada (although I’ve been; my best friend now lives there); South America: Panama, Venezuela, Colombia, Peru, Brazil, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina.
5. Learn a foreign language.
6. Meet a writer I admire.

[to be continued]

Damn it I’m bored again. I’m restless, I hate everything. There’s nothing to look forward to everyday. I hate that I can’t buy the books I want. And I hate that I still don’t have a birthday gift. Nothing real anyway. Who gets a recorder, a laser pointer, and a book of “Common Phrases” as gifts for their 18th birthday? Ugh. And those things weren’t even really for me. They were just things lying around in the house. Hell.

I hate that I can’t be thankful for what I have. But what the hell. Can you really blame me for feeling this way? Especially when I feel so detached from this freakin universe.

I. am. soo. bored.

I’m so pissed off I feel like strangling someone. Or yelling at that inconsiderate creep.

Today is my dad’s birthday. This morning our LTS 2 leader told us that our peer evaluation would be at 6-8pm, a time I had told her time and again I wasn’t available. The reason? Duh. Mass at 5.30pm.

So I reacted to the GM–something about 6-8 being the period where majority of the people were free [which is stupid because everyone is supposed to be present during a peer evaluation].

I said, “What? Final na yun? Di ako pwede. Birthday ng dad ko. We have to attend mass. Family thing.”

AND SHE DIDN’T REPLY. What the hell kind of a leader is that?

Maybe she doesn’t understand what family things are. That families go to mass whenever a there’s a birthday celebrator. Or maybe she thinks I can get out of the engagement and criticize her performance this semester instead.

Like not going to mass with my family is something I’d WANT to get out of. AS IF IT WOULD EVEN BE AN OPTION.

As if my choices are

a) attend mass with father, mother, and brother–the people I love most in the world; or
b) throw scathing remarks at some students I happened to be groupmates with

*evil laugh* Like she’d want to hear what I have to say about her. Like anybody wants to hear what I have to say about anybody. Because believe me, I’m a critic at heart. You’d know if you ever were my classmate in 120, Hum1, Econ, etc.

But that’s not the end of the story yet. That’s not why I’m pissed. That is only the beginning.

I researched Pahinungod’s phone number this afternoon. I was blind enough not to find it in the directory, so I leafed through some university publications. I finally found it in a General Curriculum manual of all the courses.

I spoke to Kuya Humphrey, this guy who helps guide students in the final days of their field work/group activities. I asked him if it was okay for me not to attend and stuff. He said as long as no issue about me came up later, I didn’t have to follow-up anything.

Of course I was confident I had no issue. I’ve been punctual and diligent. I wrote a spankin’ single spaced account of the problems and solutions we encountered during our sessions for the final paper. And most of all I taught the children wholeheartedly…

I sent a message to one of my closest friends in the group, telling her that I wouldn’t be present and that if anyone asked, explain to them that yadda yadda yadda.

I was going to text more people, but I was losing load fast, and at the time I had another engagement to attend to.

So I ended up not texting anyone anymore. And what do you know, Irony happened.

My friend sent me a message–one that I was able to read after the mass–about her not being able to go to the evaluation either. She said she texted our group monitor to tell the others of our situation. Because I so trusted my groupmates, I believed that even without the help of that freakin’ hell of a leader, the facilitator would understand our excuses.

But behold: an hour ago our monitor texted us and told us that when the faci asked why my friend and I were absent, they couldn’t give an answer. They told the faci that we would explain things ourselves.

I can’t believe those people. Can’t they deliver a damn message without me having to flood their inboxes? What the hell is so hard to explain about, It’s Rialynne’s dad’s birthday and they’re attending mass?

Don’t they know that it’s only in special occasions where I can get my family to be complete during mass?

God. I hate people like that. If I were the freakin leader, I would make sure I knew the reason why a member was absent–if it were something I’d been warned about.

And I know I warned that hell of a leader that I would not be available on the 24th at night.

Now I’m being asked to report to BNP as soon as possible.

As soon as possible my ass.

Creeps.