birthdays

Today, I realized one thing. That I am a little ungrateful of the life I spend every year. Not too far from now, I will celebrate another birthday and I have no idea how to spend it. Every year, I take my birthday for granted, I think I just slept once through it, I'm not sure. And now, this ungrateful approach on birthdays needs a lift. I should do something at least slightly memorable because to date, I haven't had that very memorable birthday celebration. I always do it rather meekly and thought it's just another reminder of my not so wonderful life. Even my sweet sixteenth was only vaguely special because a lot of the people I care about didn't even make it. I know, it sucks but to me, year after year, it is starting to wear off because the more I think of how un-special it is, the less I feel happy. It is ironic how I want other people's birthday to be special but I treat mine only sullenly.

So today I want to refresh and reload and take a look at the almost memorable ones and feel thankful.

• 1st Birthday -
  (I am the girl pictured above wearing yellow and sitting pretty with my lola and cousins)
  This event is special because everyone spends a baby's first birthday happily. Although I don't remember much of it mainly because I didn't know a lot from then, (duh) I think I was really happy. Babies love to be adored.
  
• 7th Birthday - In the Philippines, 7th birthdays should be celebrated grandly for some reason. I'm not particularly sure why but most kids I knew then celebrated theirs with clowns, mascots, parties and the shiz. Mine wasn't really that special but I had a party where I invited some of my "friends" from first grade. I had pink balloons and I wore stockings with pink maryjanes, floral dress with a pink shirt inside. Eew. My mom loved pink and made me think I love it too. I also remember this one very clearly because my mom did the weirdest game ever where a string was tied on everyone's waist and the other end goes dangling on the floor tied to an egg. You get a partner and you have to break the egg by thrusting your hips to and fro and let each one's eggs bump into each other. (that sounded weird) First to smash both eggs wins.
• 13th Birthday -
  (Pictured with my mom)
  In almost all my birthdays, my mom threw parties only to my immediate relatives. Good thing I am closely bonded with my cousins. Besides, I didn't know how to party then, how would I throw one to my cool friends? But I think I did on my 3rd Birthday (?) to my classmates in baby nursery. (I went to school at 2 1/2) My 13th was special to me because it was a mark of teen-hood: I grew taller than my mom, I started hanging out with my best friends and was going under that awkward puberty stage.
  
• 16th Birthday - I had this out-of-the-blue-party because my mom thought it should be special. I remember I didn't really want to throw a party but my mom said I should so we did. I invited my friends from high school, my mom's friends and my relatives. This one's almost great but there were some major issues. Like not all my friends and relatives were present which is understood since the party was a bit rushed.

I think these ones are the best so far. They're not the best best but at least they were special to me. I didn't have a party on my 18th because of some complications, (Haha) but I am planning on throwing one hopefully on my 21st when I become legal anywhere on the planet. This year, let me see.

But above all these, I should be happy.

I smoke?

If you are one of my Facebook or Twitter friends, you probably saw my status that said "wants to puff". And yes, I really want to do it. I was in the backyard yesterday, lounging, I guess and I had this thing on my mind that if I were smoking, I would probably be doing it at that time, when I was feeling a little sucky. And for some reason, I was breathing heavier than normal, partly imagining than I was lighting a fcking cigarette.

If you know me well, smoking never interested me even if I was exposed to a lot of smokers. I had this idea etched on my mind that I would never do it unless it's the last possible thing I could do on Earth. I hated the smell and the smokers especially whenever they tell you in your face that they don't care whether you get affected by it as they stand there, on a high, while you try your best not to suck in the same air they're breathing. I guess I was a little concerned about my health and too worried that my parents would be disappointed of me that I didn't give in to the temptationS and the pressure to become "cooler".

But sometimes, it does make sense. If done moderately. I think it relaxes you a little bit and brings you somewhere else where everything doesn't matter. It's an escape and in that case, I need some escape. Just to not think of anything and free my mind. In case you are wondering, yeah I did smoke a couple of times (first two don't even count because I wasn't doing it right) in my life. I didn't do weed. Just cigarettes and hookah, and I admit it was a pleasure. Ha ha. I remember the first time, when some friend was doing it in front of me while we were relaxing at the poolside and she asked if I smoked. I said no and that I have no intentions of doing it.

"Come on, try it"

Just that and I gave in. Blame the damn booze and the freedom that I was feeling that time. Funny when I thought I was doing it right and was thinking, "Ooh, this is easier than I thought it would be." But was told in the face,

"No, you're not doing it right. Suck it in before you breathe out."

I did, and coughed. Was laughing inside. Ha ha. She told me to try other things too because it's all fun to do it while we're young. Too bad I didn't do anything next. 

I hate myself for trying too hard to be good. I feel imprisoned, like I have no right to behave badly. Oh yeah, I can't.

Sorry.

Faith?

So I was sitting there, seven in the morning, in a pew hearing mass with my mom, dad and brother in an old-White-men dominated Church when it hit me, Am I doing this because I want to or just for the sake of doing so? I was brought up a Catholic and had less knowledge of the other religions and was, I can argue, brought up with very conservative traditions. Being here in America, I cannot say I am starting to get White-washed but the exposure to different cultures gave me different perspectives hence the question of what to believe in.

I didn't have this kind of crisis before maybe because of the very major role of Catholicism in Philippine society and now that I am old enough to choose, I don't know what I really want. Every Sunday morning, it is a given that we, as a family should attend mass and I think I do so only half willingly. It is starting to feel like a sort of routine which needs to be done, and can only be missed with sufficient reasons. Being sleepless not rational enough.

Then as I was thinking these thoughts, I was embarrassed when I suddenly heard the priest's sermon after a series of words I barely listened to. "Don't be ashamed of your faith, of what you believe in". Bam! But what do I really believe in? Because these religious ceremonies I think is just a front, to hide the guilt of sin or whatever. I think, we all just need a healthy relationship with some Supreme Being, know what's wrong and what's right and try to grow with that. But I think I can only do that after I move out of this house which no one knows when. Living with my parents is half-fun, half-not. I guess I only have limited freedom.

Somehow, I also think that material things shy everyone away from faith and that is the only reason I can think of right now as to why I am having this whole faith crisis.

But other than that I think going to a Catholic school from kindergarten to high school then into a Jesuit university for two years in college can get confusing.

Ruminations?

There is some satisfaction when you are in an amusement park. It's not just because you feel like a kid again. It's because you are exposed to this unsecret fact of life that happiness is a choice. You can't just stuck yourself in that rotten corner and expect some spice come your way. Fate does something but your will also influences the game. I can just imagine how confused you probably are right now but what I'm exactly saying is that the fate of one person also relies on the choices he or she makes.

Getting crazy with my favorite kids G, B and S.

I don't know about you but I realized how boring I must seem to be in a position of plain bumming and getting some satisfaction from it. Hence, tomorrow starts a new promise of a new journey as I will finally do some job. And it is in a fast food restaurant.

As for that amusement park metaphor, if you don't get it, well, think of it this way, when you are in an amusement park you can choose to enjoy the moment or think of the things bothering you while on it. There is a choice and as for me, I chose to be positive and voila, I am happy that I was with my favorite kids, that I'm bound to work tomorrow plus a promise of new friends.

And you know what? It is starting to get odd when I see some pictures of my friends back in the Phil because it is starting to really sink in that I am, really in a different world, distant from everyone armed with a different story. I don't know if that's good or bad.

But whatever, I'm in this and I am again loving it. Does it make any sense?

Writing

My writing needs a quick lift. I feel that my writing is becoming trashy, with portions going blah. Maybe my recent craving for juicy Perez Hilton stories is bullying me. I haven't finished reading books I bought and the only ones that I have been indulging in are plain periodicals. Scary English professor is right in giving me grades below A's and B+'s, I can never be safe and good. The craft in writing is too difficult to deal with. Even if you have been writing for decades, you still couldn't be profound enough, you couldn't be good enough.

I adore the passionate writers, those who breathe words and are inspired everyday to bring ideas to life.

I adore the average ones, who keep practicing and editing yet couldn't be more satisfied with the final output.

I wish I would've been better so I could marvel with the compliments thrown my way then act humbly to make a bigger fan base.

I wish I would've had longer lists of books I've read more than once.

I wish I was more dorky.

I knew it. My being geeky would always come out. Never would I pick a face without a brain over a smart dorky girl with the worst haircut and make-up.

Yes, I was there once.

what is an emo?

I was thinking about what to post since I'm running out of something to say but for some reason, I remember one topic that we love talking about. Well not really but close to that. I miss my Ateneo friends, (hey Core!) and how we love teasing our two friends to come out of the pits and stare at the rainbows. Ha ha. Figuratively speaking aside, this is to thank Laine for all the boosting powers she has wonderfully shared to everyone, including me, with her inspiring words, "there is more to life than being so emo."

Frankly, I didn't know what emo was. But with the people I see around labeling themselves as one, I somehow had an idea thinking they're the overly emotional type of species on earth. Usually, they wear black and would love to pair it with their black nails or with black eyeliner. They cry mostly because they think their lives are miserable and they have this tendency to have long side-swept bangs even if they're a guy. But they're not gay necessarily. They also have little appreciation of hip hop or none at all, I think. They also dwell in pain and I feel that even if they have a choice, they would preferably languish in their misery and would probably write a song or a poem in the process. Issues that remain unsolved can lead to suicidal attempts- either in the form of slashing wrists or overdosing on pills. I was nearly influenced to become one because I had too much drama before but after some spice, I was awakened and had my, uhm, spirits made over. But I don't think I would really reach that level of desperation.

Check this video. Not intended to mock anyone but I find this really funny.


But I guess the real definition of it should come from an emo's point of view. And unfortunately, I'm not emo. :'(

*note: I have nothing against them. I'm just curious about their lifestyle.

Cheap Thrills

Labels will always stay on with our lives until forever. Brands will always be a big deal but you know what I’ve been indulging in for the past, uhm, weeks? Local food. I do not mean to say that imported goods are always better than the local ones but I’ve found a craving for the latter. You will certainly come across such occurrence when you’ve been trying to stretch your allowance for weeks. I guess I’m not spoiled.

Ube Tarts. I found this at Rustan’s supermarket in the section beside breads together with pastillas and other sweets. But I really was attracted with this one hence I picked it. One thing, I’m such an Ube lover. My lola cooks the most delicious ube ever made. I once sat beside my lola in the kitchen and watched her cook ube and I even tried mixing the ube mix in the casserole. It was magical, albeit tiring. But it was worth it. I love ube. And the packing of the tarts is blue. Sweet.

Flat Tops. Cheap treat. Really cheap. Once you eat a piece, you’d cheat and keep on getting another one. Seriously. It just figures how I got my toothache last week. For chocolate lovers, brands won’t matter. I bet anyone would love this. I remember the other one also from Ricoa. I kept asking myself when I was a kid the difference between Flat Tops and Curly Tops. I’d check the top and would wonder why the picture of Curly Tops in its box didn't match the feature of the chocolates inside. Until now, I keep asking cause its top isn’t really curly, its side is. It’s not curly even, it’s crooked. Then why not call it Crooky Sides. Corny? Oh yeah. Ha ha.

The Ultimate Chocolate Chip Cookie. I know Mrs. Fields is way better. I even heard there’s a Mrs. Fields café already in Trinoma. But, this alternative is satisfying as well. Get the bigger pack. And you’d know what I mean. I love cookies to bits. J

Just a piece of advice: When you eat sweets, don’t always check the labels for nutrition facts. Just eat the whole thing, I mean it. Soon, you’ll be experiencing heaven. Yum.

Warning: Eat moderately.