Who Put the Weight of the World on My Shoulders?

If there's anything that I don't want to be, it's generic. Forgive me if you've heard all of this before.

Honestly, I feel like my insides are churning, and I'm going to throw them up soon. I can't eat because if I do, I'll just puke it all out anyway. My eyes constantly sting. My chest hurts. I feel like somebody placed anvils inside my heart on purpose, just to make it feel this heavy. I've never felt so much longing and misery in my life.

I feel pathetic, because I have the urge to tell my story to everyone I meet. Some I see more often than others, so I retell my story...and retell it...and retell it. I am sorry if your ears are bleeding with my whining. Please understand.

I am on the edge. I am about to jump off. I never really understood why people hurt themselves over love, but now I do; because if you hurt yourself, you'll finally get the attention you yearn for.

You. You can either make me or break me with whatever you say. I don't know why you have so much control over my heart. I don't know why I let you get to me. But all I know is I can't imagine living in a world where our paths cross, but our eyes do not. 

I am chasing you once more. I feel like I've done this countless times, but I also feel that it is worth it. 

I ask for people's advice, but I listen only to what I want to hear. Chase him. Chase him, she said. She who knows me best and longest. She who is very much like me, in mind and in skill. 

How I wish I could just move on. Move on and forget all about you. But I am in so much pain, and it's hurting me more than I expected it to. I want it to subside now. 

All I want is your audience. Humor me one last time. Hear me out and give me closure.

New Year's Resolutions

1. Get involved at Cal.

2. Make the $10 worth it (for RSF).

3. Find my way back to God.

4. Eat healthier!

5. Stop being such a bitch.

:)

The Stars Have Spoken

Leo (Jul 23 - Aug 22)[?]

The Bottom Line

You have been clinging too tightly to someone when you may need to just let go.

In Detail

Someone in your life has been running hot and cold on you, and today you should turn off the faucet and walk away. You have been working so hard at making a connection with them, but it's not worth it. You have been clinging too tightly when you may need to let go. Maybe when you're not around, this person will understand the value you bring to their life, and maybe not. But you are not getting what you deserve right now, and you are better off moving on. Control your destiny!

The End of All Wishful Thinking

As expected, the blog of outbursts:

Dear Bianca, 

You are stupid. I am fully convinced. Never mind your 4.0 at Cal, you harlot; you are stupid. 

John Mayer put it best:

Flat on the floor, looking back

On old love

Or lack thereof.

After all the crushes are faded,

And all my wishful thinking was wrong,

I'm jaded.

I hate it.

(First of all, can someone please define the word, "jaded" for me? I know Aerosmith made it popular sometime in the late 90s, but for some reason, I just don't know what it means. I remember looking it up, but meh...it just won't stick.)

How can you not be over the whole thing? My goodness gracious, me oh my. It was a silly little affair, occurring in the silly little cosmos of high school events...how stupid were you to believe it would be forever? 

(You know what makes me madder? The fact that I have no one to blame but myself! There is no other scapegoat. Darn.)

(Oh well. My eyes hurt now. Thank God for friends.)

New Love

Mae's "Just Let Go"

(I think it's the swing imagery that gets me :))

There's an old oak tree

We can swing and sway

Will our guards away (You're so far away)

When I look at you

You're so far away

Oh so far away

Oh if you could just let go.

There's an old oak tree

We can swing and sway

Will our guards away (You're so far away)

It's just you and me

We could get away

We can get away (You're so far away)

In this lovers' play

We are happy here oh in every way

Oh and then we just let go.

I'll sing it for you when I see you.

FYI

For Christmas, I want a Doumyouji Tsukasa.

:)

Countdown to Finals Week

Okay guys. This is gonna be great.

We're gonna have a little experiment.

I am so freaking tired right now. My eye is twitching. I need to catch up on some sleep. BUT I procrastinated on this Poli Sci paper for two whole weeks (hey, I had another paper, though...), and I have 16 hours to pull something out of my ass. 

Thing is, though, I need to ace this class if I want to get into the Psych major. But anyways, that's beside the point right now.

So I went to Starbucks a few hours ago and got myself a cup of coffee for $3.10. FREAKING $3.10. But it's working, I think. I got some Sour Patch Kids from Walgreens (the cashier was sooo nice; I wanna be his friend forever and ever), so I'm READY! I'M READY! I'M READY! Just like Spongebob when he's getting ready to go to work!

But YEAH!! So I'm just gonna type whatever comes to mind in the time span that I work on this paper - this bomb-ass paper that's gonna make me famous!! BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

Alright, so here goes.

---

Dude. Kanye West smells like chicken feet.

---

Spam is good, but I hate having to slice it because I can never get my slices quite as straight as my mother does. And then you coat it with egg, and you fry it. VOILA. Spam for breakfast/lunch/dinner with toast/rice/frijoles. Just kidding. I don't really know if it would go with frijoles. You can try, though. Remember to get back to me, please.

Why do I always write in the second person? Kinda odd, huh? Don't you think?

---

I want to speak Japanese all the time. I shall practice on you. Prepare yourself!

---

FRIJOLES! FRIJOLERA! BEANER! CHILE!

---

Okay. I really don't think it's normal for my eye to be twitching like this.

---

Hi, Donald! 

---

ねたい。。。

Come, Emmanuel, Come

As a Spurs fan in Laker territory, I'm used to getting ganged up on by hordes of purple and gold. It happened all throughout high school, and it looks like it's gonna keep happening as long as my Spurs are a threat to the entire league. 

If they weren't the least bit scared of the Spurs, they wouldn't think to pick on me. That's the bottom line, baby. 

Y'all are just scared.

Manu's back. Things are about to change (or go back to the way they were).

I'm not saying that the Spurs are gonna win the championship because honestly, they're a long shot at this point. All I'm saying is that Laker fans need to stop acting like the Larry O'Brien trophy's already been handed to them. WAKE UP. We're not even 20 games into the season. What's gonna happen to their arrogant little comments when Kobe goes down with an injury like Parker did? What are they gonna do then? 

A little humility never hurt anyone. 

And this is exactly, exactly why I'm a fan of the San Antonio Spurs. I have zero tolerance for arrogance. I can't stand chest bumps in between every single damn play. And I hate drama queens who talk crap just to get attention. 

So go ahead. Pick on me. Maybe I'm the odd one out, but I don't care. I let the game speak for itself.

Go Spurs Go.

Thank You

I am thankful for:

- my family. Thank you for always supporting me. Everything I am now, I owe to you.

- my friends. For Melissa and Vannalyn who watch over me as I bounce around the apartment walls every weekend. Sometimes they join me, but more often than not I get the "what the fuck?" face that I've gotten accustomed to. 

- my ninjentern buddies. It's amazing how we just bonded together over the summer. In all honesty, I've never felt a more binding chemistry with any other group than you guys. Let's be friends forever. :)

- the opened doors, the countless opportunities. Thank you, to the TWF and the TWLC for investing in my growth.

- this school year. Sophomore year at Cal. Everything's gone swimmingly so far (except for a couple of...hmmm...). Classes are okay, I'm finally getting involved, and...I've never been more proud to be a Golden Bear. :)

- Project Smile. :) For my awesome mentee. And for keeping me busy in the best possible way.

- being ALIVE. And being in the position to be grateful for more things to come.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Random Musings

1. I think we all know too much about President-elect Obama now. Just off the top of my head, Yahoo! headlines have included, over the past two weeks: 

- the breed of dog (it needs to be a hypoallergenic mutt) he's getting for his daughters when they move into the White House (plus several stories on CNN about willing donors!!),

- the fact that he can't be all over the Internets no mo' cause everything he does is on record (although he's very Internets-savvy),

- the book that he's currently reading, 

- the names that Secret Service assigned him and his family (they all start with Rs, I believe),

- and that he has a good jump shot.

Certainly, I'm missing more points. But my point is, ENOUGH! He's cool; I get it. He's too cool to make fun of. Like you know...nobody makes fun of Will Smith, right? It's 'cause he's so damn cool (I think I got this from The Daily Show).

2. When you say pirates...It doesn't have the same gravity as, say, "hijackers on sea." I blame good ol' Cap'n Jack Sparrow for this. Thanks Cap'n, for causing me to ignore this potentially alarming issue.

3. Twilight. Fine, I'll give in. I'll read it. Over winter break, maybe.

Psh.

4. Me? A political junkie? Maybe...

5. A Colbert Christmas on Sunday. Love.

Thanks in advance

I am looking forward to Thanks with Susie and Omar. 

:)

I've missed them dearly.

Here's to mindless wanderings, lively talks, never-ending munchies, and sleepless nights. I love you guys! Can't wait to see you! ♥

Where Amazing Happens

Cue music.

This is ten percent luck

Twenty percent skill

Fifteen percent concentrated power of will

Five percent pleasure

Fifty percent pain

And a hundred percent reason to remember the name.

My Spurs are in trouble. :(

2-5. Wow. Never in the Duncan era have we had a start this bad. Manu's down. Parker's out for a month. Barry's with the flippin Rockets. Finley/Bowen/Duncan (take your pick!) is getting older. And I honestly don't know the names of half the guys on our roster.

It's becoming increasingly painful to have to watch an entire game, but I'm still here.

Spurs fans have been notorious for brandishing "our" four championships whenever other teams' fans start berating us for our team's age and/or underachievement, so I won't disappoint.

Remember this?

05 baby. The stars were aligned.

Could it happen again? 

Well, it is an odd-numbered year, and we still have our Big Three intact. :) Anything is possible. Maybe my hopes are leaning on Ginobili's superhuman abilities, and maybe he's just not gonna be the same after his surgery...but if I didn't have hope, what else would I have? Memories? Memories of four distant championship runs? 

Nah. Let's save that for when the Big Three retire. :)

Go SPURS Go!

In other news, I am no longer an NBA virgin. 

Warriors-Wolves game on Nov. 11th! :) It went into OT, just like I wanted it to. Hehe. It took a lot of effort to shout, "Let's go Warriors!" but I did it, okay. I did it. I'm not proud, but I just got into the game. I am an NBA fan, after all. :)

Today We Wake Up to a Different AMERICA

Something weird happened last night. It's midterm season, but people weren't cooped up in the library (or drinking their woes away). I know I live in the middle of Shattuck Avenue, amidst the life of Downtown Berkeley, but I still found it a bit odd that cars wouldn't stop honking well into midnight last night. How many people were caught in a traffic jam? Were there really that many bad drivers on the road last night?

What the hell happened?

CHANGE happened. That's what. We You did it, America! 

YES, WE CAN!

I let the victory get to me. Even though I wasn't a part of it, I let it carry me away. I am proud to be American a permanent resident of the United States. 

So...I stepped out into the streets of Berkeley last night and found...Berkeley. So this is what Berkeley looked like in the 60s. People just came together for a common cause. LOVE WAS IN THE AIR; there's no better way to put it. For once, I genuinely felt like EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY. Optimism radiated in that big crowd that started singing as a chorus, cheering Obama's name, and high-fiving drivers who themselves were fist-pumping and yelling in their cars. 

I've never seen such a vision of unity. Such happiness. Such optimism.

EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY.

Change has come.

...Is everything going to be okay?

This turnout. It feels like a mandate. It feels like so many expectations lie squarely on the President at this moment. What if he doesn't deliver? What if he's not all we've made him out to be? And then what? Are we going to destroy him, much as we've destroyed many a US President? 

I HOPE Obama won't be destroyed by the presidential institution. I HOPE, in turn, that HE will destroy the institution as it stands today, that he will revolutionize the executive office (without abusing power, of course!), and consequently, that...everything will be okay.

Over the Sea and Far, Far Away...

It rained today. It rained and rained and rained. And I'm pretty sure it's still raining right now. I can't tell. I'm cooped up in a cubicle in the main library, so...I guess I'll find out later. I'll ask my friends - the wolf crying to the blue corn moon, the sycamore, and the eagle that's gonna tell me where he's been.

Today was not unlike the day that I first stepped foot on Berkeley soil and fell in ♥. I will always remember.

Look at the stars.

Look how they shine for you,

And everything you do.

Yeah they were all yellow.

I came along.

I wrote a song for you,

And all the things you do.

And it was called yellow.

So then I took my time.

Oh what a thing to have done,

And it was all yellow.

I swam across.

I jumped across for you.

Oh what a thing to do,

'Cause you were all yellow.

I drew a line.

I drew a line for you.

Oh what a thing to do,

And it was all yellow.

Have I told you? This song will be played on my wedding. :) 

Anyway.

I took a shower against my will today. It was an accident. It happened on my way home, from Barker to Gaia. It was cold. 

Don't you wish you never had the misfortune to meet certain people? Don't you wish you could just be sheltered from what's difficult and what's heartbreaking (sheltered from life, then)?

I have nothing but questions.

Hey

When do you stop loving someone?

When do you just get up and realize that you don't care for someone anymore?

(This isn't rhetorical; please comment.)

My New Love

I fell in love...at the Apple Store.

(It's the orange one.)

Help me name it. :D

れんしゅうです！

これはれんしゅうです。金曜日、しけんがありますから。

だいはっか：

私は七人かぞくです．父と母と兄が一人と妹が一人と弟が二人います。

何人兄弟ですか。私は五人兄弟です。

カタカナを書いてください。

カタカナを書かないでください。

日本語で話してください。

日本語で話さないでください。

手紙を書いています。

あそんでいます。

ばんごはんを食べています。

しんぶんを読んでいます。

ともだちに会っています。

石川さん、何か飲みませんか。ジュースはいかがですか。

はい、ありがとうございます。じゃ、いただきます。

ありがとうございます。でも今はけっこうです。

O Passion, Where Art Thou?

Where has all the passion gone?

I sit down in lecture, in section, and all I see are blank faces, empty stares that I feel hardly even absorb what's being said by the demagogues in their presence. 

No questions. No comments. No suggestions. Just silence, and the rare chorus of laughter that keeps the atmosphere human. 

We are all free-riding. We are all sitting in our own seats, texting under the desks or working on Sudoku puzzles; we are all waiting for that courageous (or stupid) someone to break the silence and fool the demagogues into realizing that we, as a collective, are actually interested in goings-on.

There are methods to solve this free-riding. Coercion, namely, is what the demagogues resort to in order to force us into feeling involved, but why is it not working?

In Asian American Studies and Poli Sci, section participation counts for 15% of our final grades. Being the grade-conscious Berkeley students that we are, why aren't we exerting more effort into making these hour-long discussions into quality, thought-provoking brainstorms? Why are we just sitting on our asses and waiting for the GSIs to spoon-feed us with what we need to know?

This is not the Berkeley that I fell in love with. This is high school. Nobody wants to talk, and the few "smart people" are left to save everyone from the awkward silence or the judgmental feedbacks of the teacher.

Where is all this apathy coming from? Don't blame it on the GSI or the professor. Please. If you were really interested, you'd make time to immerse yourself in the subject matter, no matter how horrid your teacher may be. 

I spoke with someone a few days ago, and he just utterly bashed Berkeley to my face. He's a student, but he absolutely hates it here; he hates it so much that he'd rather go back to a JC than stay in this ghetto, hillside, ego-wonderland. I was understanding. I didn't really want to question his reasoning because I convinced myself that the university setting is not for everyone; maybe he was just one of those students who'd prosper more in a teaching- rather than research-oriented institution. 

But then he said to me, "I'm apathetic. I'm not even gonna vote. I just don't care." I paraphrase, but the point is clear. This man doesn't give a shit. 

Is this what's happening to Berkeley? Has there been an influx of apathetic people who simply don't give a shit?

I shudder to think...

Compulsiveness

I can't focus.

No, I'm not color-blind; I know the world is black and white.

Try to keep an open mind, but...I just can't sleep on this tonight.

Stop this train.

I wanna get off and go home again.

I can't take the speed it's moving in.

Feelings.

Feeeelings, whoaaaaa feelings.

Feelings are so interesting. Why must I write about you, feelings? Why must you overpower what I do? 

Feelings, whoaaaa feelings.

I'm so confused. I shouldn't have looked at those pictures.

But I hate you? Yes, I hate you.

:D

Hey, I like to recycle Norwegians. I mean, Norwegian Recycling. 

Tiger Woods is an inspiration. I honestly hope to meet him someday.

Peace,

and Poli Sci.

♥ ビアンカ

久しぶり！

First of all: こんにちは！日本語を書くことができますよ。すごくいいですね。

Yay! 

Okay. I've had another realization this week. Brace yourselves. 

...

I have the biggest girly girl crush on Stephen Colbert. :D I'm sure a lot of people will agree that he's hot. End of topic. No questions asked. Sssh. No receding hair line jokes, please.

Anyway, what's with the sudden appearance of past issues this week? How the hell did that come up? That hit me out of nowhere. 

I don't understand how looking out for myself and "moving on" has turned me into an ice queen. A villain who steps on people after she uses them. 

There is no more future. Things can't just go back to how they were three years ago because it's not that easy. It's so easy to say that we'd like to go back to the way things were, but it's another thing to do it, and frankly, now is not the right time to even think about these things. Forgive me if I've no inkling to drop you a line or say "hi," but...I'm still trying to put myself together.

Here's a Thought

(I think) I would turn gay for Ellen DeGeneres.

Revelation

I know what I want to do with my life.

I want to make a difference.

Yes, I know, that phrase is definitely overused, much like "I love you," or " You don't even reckanize!" but it is honestly the only way to describe what I want to do in my life.

I want to be a valuable mentor to the youth, because I believe that having mentors who continuously support you and believe in you can make you into an entirely different individual. I want to be a Mr. Tozzie, a Ms. Pryor, and an Uncle Donald to kids out there; I want them to have the same guidance that I had because I know that with a little prodding, they can go far.

An Open Letter

Dear School,

I will kick your ass.

I promise.

Love,

Bianca

"I am Harmony."

It's hard to be diplomatic when people look down on you. Like you're not their equal.

I believe myself to be a pretty agreeable person; in fact, Strengths Finder rated "HARMONY" as my top strength when I took the survey over the summer. But even the most harmonious person will have a hard time dealing with those who are high-maintenance and self-centered. 

Maybe I have not been exposed to different types of people, but I really find it hard to understand HOW and WHY people come to be so self-centered. It's not my business to know you're business; nor do I want it to be. No thank you. I have my own issues to mind.

I hate that I can't speak up. I hate that I care about getting along with everyone. I've asked too many people, "Why can't I be like you?" Why can't I just speak up for what I truly feel and believe? Why can't I just not give a fuck whether you get mad or not? Why can't I just be SELFISH (like you) every once in a while? 

If I don't change, I'll probably get stomped on. If I trap this side of me to mere writing, I know that people will take advantage of me. Like they are now. So from now on, consider myself a changed person. Fuck niceties.   

In Memoriam

It is a huge coincidence, I believe, that I began re-reading Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close at midnight last night - September 11th, 2008. To those (unfortunate people) who have not read the book, it's about 9-year-old Oskar Schell, whose father died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks. His father leaves behind several clues that send Oskar on a scavenger hunt of sorts throughout New York City, and in the process he meets different people who have survived tragedies of their own.

I think it's the most humane of all the books I've read, and it really gets you to think. One of my favorite passages talks about how life...in itself is a burning building. Once you're born, it's all downhill from there. You're slowly dying every single minute.

It's the most truthful of all the books I've read as well. Since it's written in a 9-year-old's point of view, the straightforward comments are abundant, and Oskar completely disregards political correctness. 

What's taboo in society is talked about as well. For me, death is an extremely sensitive topic, but Foer just delves right into its heart - its truths, its myths, and its very real effects on the living. Despite this seeming complexity, Foer actually succeeds in simplifying death.

On the way to Oskar's father's funeral, he comments on the limousine that they're riding in: '"Now that I'm thinking about it...they could make an incredibly long limousine that had its back seat at your mom's VJ and its front seat at your mausoleum, and it would be as long as your life.'" 

Isn't this incredible simplicity horrifying? To sum up life like that...it makes you realize that the petty things that we care about don't really matter in the greater scheme of things. 

Just For Laughs

This is my current wallpaper. It's made of win and awesome.

GO BEARS! :D

No Mercy.

I love Cal, but it's location leaves much to be desired. I was at the AT&T store on Shattuck today, waiting for someone to talk to me about my malfunctioning phone. There were an awful lot of high school kids out and about, I observed. It must've been their lunch break or something, because it was high noon. 

But anyways, I was just waiting in line, when all of a sudden a scuffle erupts right outside the store! You could see everything through the glass windows; at least six guys ganged up on one person. The culprits were wearing white shirts and red baseball caps, and their victim was clad in black. They just beat him down - they punched, kicked, stomped. No mercy. 

I just stood there - a good ten feet away from them, protected by that glass door. I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell them to stop, but I was frozen. How could I help when I was paralyzed with fear? 

What if they had weapons with them? What if they had a gun? The store's door was wide open; they could've easily just walked in and killed whomever they pleased. 

But finally they stopped. The other people from the store started yelling at the boys, telling them to break it up and that they'd call the cops. I think the culprits ran away, and I stayed in the store for a good 15 more minutes after the incident, but no cops came. 

There was no bleeding. Bruises, probably. I never really got a good look of anyone involved, probably because I got so scared. 

I just have no idea why a group of high school kids would just do that out in the open - in broad daylight. What the heck were they thinking? Were they really that mad at that person? What could he have possibly done?

Gangs probably play a factor into this whole mess too. What the fuck? I am just at a loss for words. I really cannot comprehend why some people would resort to these sorts of things. I cannot understand their mindset - their desire to get in trouble and stay in trouble. What moves them to do so?

After that incident, I thought...Shit. I don't think I'd want my siblings to go to Berkeley. I thought of suburban communities in UC Irvine, San Diego, and Stanford...and I thought...wow. Where do you draw the line between safety and academics? 

I don't know. I just feel like Berkeley is isolated in its haven of outstanding academia while the high school down the street wallows in crime, low test scores, and continuous failure. Isn't there an irony here somewhere?

Soundtrack for My Movie

Life would be so much better if I had my own soundtrack. 

I was walking back to our apartments from Dwinelle today, and I was listening to Lara Fabian's version of "Broken Vow." I looked around and realized that I'd have some fun by making my own music video right then and there - with my eyes as the recording device. 

Picture a lush scenery - green trees kissed by afternoon sunlight; then the camera pans upwards to a view of clear blue skies. Now you see a lonely girl sitting under a tree, her face still and lifeless, her eyes staring ahead but really looking at nothing. A cyclist rushes past, and the wind he creates moves my hair. It moves with the wind. And I keep walking.

Dramatic, isn't it? I swear, I'm not making up the part about the lonely girl. She was right there. :)

Why?

This space has become intimidating. 

Pwnd.

I got pwnd today. =/ Copy editing is some very cereal business. I think there's a very slim chance of me actually getting the job at The Daily Cal, but I'll still turn in my resume (with a cover letter!).  

Anypoo, my brother is in Japan! Woot. :] I'm so jealous.

Berkeley, I'm Back Babyyy!

Dear Bianca,

Hey what's up? I'm back in Berkeley. Finally! It felt like summer was the longest thing everrr, but now that I'm here, it's like I never even left. 

I'm so tired right now. Classes started today, and I had Japanese 1A at the ungodly hour of 8 am. It didn't matter, though. I was so excited. I busted out my Hajimemashite and my Doozo Yoroshiku. You should've been there. I was awesome. I felt like a smarty-pants. But then we started reading through the syllabus, and I realized pretty much everyone can read Japanese in that class; it wasn't just me. Haha. Damn Berkeley kids. Of course they'd be on top of their game. Of course. 

Anyhowz, Asian American Studies was pretty legit too. Professor Omi seems tight. I think he reminds me of Aihara Sensei. Don't ask me why though...because I don't know. Anyhowz again, I'm gonna need to get a lot of books for that class. One is by a Filipino author, Carlos Bulosan. Exciting, ne? I think this is the first time that I'll be studying about Filipinos in a classroom not situated in the Philippines. 1337. 

Oh and can I just tell you how much assembling my roomies and I had to do the other day?! ZOMGoodness. We bought these bunk beds from IKEA, and we thought they'd deliver and assemble them, but NOOO; we had to do it ourselves. ALL OF IT. It got pretty intense there when Vannalyn accidentally dropped a screw into the bar thingie itself. It felt like the end of the world. But it's cool now. We screwed and screwed til we couldn't screw anymore, and now I'm here sitting on my top bunk. :D 

Hey I miss my co-interns. :[ The next time I see them, I better be at The Grove, munching on whatever Mario Batali comes up with...and listening to Seal. 

Laters,

Bianca ♥

TTFN, Summer 08

Ta-ta for now, Summer 2008. 

You've been so good to me. You've given me so many opportunities and opened so many avenues in my life that I didn't even realize were possible. 

You gave me my first rejection in the professional world. (Thank you, Knott's Berry Farm, for making me feel inadequate. If I suck, then you suck more.)

You gave me my first job! (Thank you, Dr. G, for being crazy enough to think that I'd be able to handle working at a dental office.)

You gave me my first internship! (WOOT! Thanks to my BFF, Tiger Woods, for making it all happen.)

You gave me my first breakup! Excellent! Hindsight is 20/20 indeed! WHEW!

What else...? 

My first paycheck, of course. My first trip to Yogurtland. My first time eating at Chipotle! (Can you imagine? It's like right there on Telegraph. & it's soooo good!) My first time playing golf! & karaoke-ing at a karaoke place in America! & the first time somebody (Sam!) baked me a birthday cake and wasn't a family member! & the first time someone threw a water balloon at me and soaked me from head to toe (Thanks, Mr. Carr.). My first animal shelter visit. And lots of other fun things, I'm sure.

Thanks, Summer 2008. You were really 1337. Have a nice retirement. :D

Summer's Winter

These people made my summer amazing. Thank you guys! I'll miss you all terribly! :D

Argentina's Favorite Son

I am devastated. Not only did Team USA steamroller Argentina in the semis; my hero, Manu Ginobili, re-injured his left ankle and hobbled his way off the court. :(

Prior to the Olympics, I was already torn by the decision he had to make. Since he was hurt throughout the West Finals, he wasn't really supposed to play in the Olympics. The Spurs definitely didn't want him risking further injury, but if there's one thing that stands out about Manu, it's his stubbornness. He really wanted to defend his gold medal, but more importantly, he wanted to represent his country.

Personally, I thought it would be fun to have him in the Olympics. I was just getting sick of not being able to watch any basketball, and I thought...hey, it'd be nice to see Manu play again, even for a little bit. I knew all along about the risk of Manu hurting himself, but I guess no one really wanted to think about that.

But now that he's hurt, it seems like the sky is falling in San Antonio. Fans are clamoring for a trade. Why keep this ailing, 31-year-old on your team when you can trade for young blood? Isn't that what San Antonio needs? Hasn't the recurrent "they're so old" label struck a chord in them just yet?

To me, it hasn't. Not for Ginobili, at least. Where else can you get a guy that plays with the heart that he does? Maybe you can replace his athleticism or his consistency, but you can never, ever replace passion. To me, Ginobili is a priceless player. You can't put a price on his heart, and on his contributions.

So to all the Chicken Littles in San Antonio and in the Spurs' fandom, I say have faith in Ginobili. I have faith that he'll deliver yet again, and if he doesn't, I'll be one of the patient fans who'll accept that his prime has passed. I will say though, that if he ever gets traded, I won't hesitate to jump ship to that other team fortunate enough to receive his services. I guess you can say that I am a Ginobili fan foremost, and if San Antonio doesn't show him the loyalty he deserves (because the NBA is admittedly a business), then I guess it's time to switch loyalties as well.

Colbert-isms

"Christians go to Heaven, specifically Catholics."

Stephen Colbert: "God is a woman, and now he's an illegal immigrant?!"
Anne Lamott: "I'm from San Francisco!"
Stephen Colbert: "There it is."

On Jenna Bush's wedding: "Jenna, Henry, you two remind me of myself...in that I've always wanted to marry myself."

To Psychology Icon Philip Zimbardo: "I teach Sunday school, motherfucker!"

"Corn + Magic = Gasoline."

"The sky is blue because it's God's favorite color!"

"Well, first of all, what is dark matter? Because I don't see the color of matter."

"Why do they make fluorescent light bulbs look like soft-serve ice cream if you're not supposed to lick them?"

"Who's pooping in our pools? My guess - the elusive Poopacabra."

"Nation, if you're like me, you have your Google alarm set on 'Ryan Seacrest' and 'animal attack.'"

"Oh Lord, please help our athletes bring home the gold - enough gold so we can melt it down and buy back our economy from the Chinese. And as always Lord, give me thick, luscious hair and a rockin' bod."

"If I had a quarter for every time I said I had a nickel, I'd have five times as much theoretical money."

The Pensive

Today is my birthday. I am 20 years old young.

I was scrounging up some memories in my brain, memories to share on this blog that could lend insight into what kind of person I was, am, and will become. All that I got, though, was a trail of vivid pink objects that seemed to dot every special event in my life.

My family lived in Bacolor, Pampanga when I was born. I barely remember anything from the old house; I was too young to remember the wooden detail of the walls and floors, the surrounding fields of peaceful bamboo trees, or the lively chatter of neighboring houses. But when I try to recall, or when my mother tells stories, I can somehow picture what it looked like. For instance, in my mind I see my 2-year-old self dancing in front of a floor-length mirror with bright pink plastic borders. I was dancing, dancing with similarly pink sunglasses hanging from my small face, and I'm pretty sure I was impressed with myself. All of these are scattered images, though, and the molten lava from Mt. Pinatubo swallowed them whole, making sure that I would never remember much else.

If you ask me about birthday parties, the memory that sticks out most to me was on my 7th birthday. I wore a gaudy yellow dress (I always wore dresses! And my hair was always up in pigtails! Thanks, Mom! :)) with lots of ribbons, and I held a pink balloon tightly in my hand as I prepared to face the crowd - my friends, whose faces and names I can't even recall. My favorite aunt - Biba, I call her - was at my side. I don't even know how it happened, but...my pink balloon - the biggest of the bunch made for the occasion - started sailing up, up, upwards, away from my reach. I felt the thin string sliding through my fingers, and in a matter of seconds, it was flying away from me. And then it was just a dot in the sky. I probably cried.

What's my point?

I honestly don't know...

Anyways, that was just a random connection I made between the color pink and my childhood memories. :) I guess I just diminished any power those stories had with this lame disclaimer. Haha. Oh well.

THANKS to everyone who wished me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I had a happy one, thanks to you guys. AWWW.

Good night!

myyy awesuume bday weekundd!! <333

zOmggg guyssz! i had lyke d bestt weekenddd evurr! well i guess it wusn't rly d bestestt, but it wuz aiite. yaddamean? it was cooo enuf for a bday weekend! 

lyke sturdayy my fambamz ♥ hadd a partyyie 4 da august celebrunts! i+ wuz lykk s000 tiigHt cuz i goT 2 hangg 0ut with mahh cuzns! and der was rlllyy gr8 f00d!

i got 2 watch michul felps win 8 goldZ der too! dat wuz a nice bday present to me 2!!!!! cuz i lyk michuel felpz. HE'S SOO HAWTTT!!! lyk forealz. u prolli don't evun reckanize! but yuh i'M haPpY! congrgulaTioNs 2 hImZ!!! :) i'm Z0 hapY!!! i thiNk i saId dat olr3di, but datz 0k...lol!!!! i ddnt see d medall curem0ni3 thingi3, th00....w/c iz pr0lli a g0od thInG cuzzz i w0uLd 0f cri3d, i`m sureee! LOL!! i wi$h i were JK, butttt i`m n0t rlyy. 

nywyz,,, s0 den my kewll cuzn maiDa sleP+ 0ver @ 0ur hauz t00!! w/c i th0ugHt wuz hecKa tiiiighhhhtTTT!!!!!! cuzz she`s s000 niC33! she juzz wunted 2 lyk celebra+3 my bdaY wif m33! lykkk b4 i g0 bak t0 burkly! :) she`s s000 nic333 guyzz!!! add her 0n frIenD$+3rrr!! w8...idkk her emaiL addrezz th0...LOL jm!! i d0 kn0wwww!!! LOLL!!! i`m s00 funni33!!! 

2dayy my cuzn, siztahh and i went 2 down+0wn diZneyyy 2 watch sistahooD 0f d traveLinG pantz 2!!! it wuzz c00hH! i lykd it!!! it wuz kinda funnIe t00...cuz my cuzn actuallY haz a dvdd 0f d 1zt m0viee cuz s0me1 gave it 2 herr 4 her bdayy last yr but she rly didn`t evn watchh it!! lol! n0ww she saId she'z gunna g0 h0m3 & t0tallY lyk watch itt cuz she lyked i+!!! 

& denn we ren+ed a c0upLe fiLipinn0 muvi33zz!! c00l, huh?!!! :D & denn we picKeddd up my lil br0derrs and we went 2 cerrit0sz & ate at panduh exprez and dennn i introdUced demm 2 y0gurtlandd & i think dey ALL lykeddd it!!!!!! 

anyh0wzzzz...i+ wuzz a c00h weekenddd!!! n0ww it`szz tym 4 m33 2 pacK cuz i`m h34diN' bakk 2 berrZerkLeyyyy!!! 

nyTT guyzzz! mwaHHHh ♥

Summer School

My internship at the Tiger Woods Learning Center has come to an end, and I am so sad. So very, very sad. I will feed you a cliche by telling you that "I learned a lot" from this program, but I must tell you that I mean that in "more ways than one" (that's a cliche too!). 

Let's see...I learned...

• How to play Apples to Apples, Uno, Mafia, Electricity, and golf! :)
  
• How to build a mouse-trap car, a bottle rocket, an NXT robot, and a rubber-band racer.
• How to work with kids and adults (who can act like little kids sometimes! :))
• That I need a cover letter when I turn in a resume.
  
• That business cards are actually useful.
• That networking is the bombshizzle, yaddamean cuhh?
• That pretty paper is awesome - it elongates attention spans!
• That you can never please everyone, especially when you're working on a group of five different people who all have the tendency to be stubborn but amazing.
• That I'm not quite ready to be "professional" because I giggle too much, I make fun of lots of things, and I throw towels at Stephanie.
• That I can inspire even one person with a single act of kindness.
• That I can make a difference.
• And that I still want to meet Tiger Woods and say "thank you" for every opportunity that he has given to kids like me.

I am honestly going to miss that place, but I hope to volunteer over winter break just to see the kids, the teachers, and of course Donald! :) 

U-S-A!

Now that's funny.

Update

You know what grinds my gears, America? YOU. You and your poor grammar!

"Conversate" is not a word. 

"Withdrawal" is spelled with an A following the W.

Know how to differentiate than from then. The previous is used for comparisons, and the latter is used in reference to time.

And if you don't know what a word means (or if you don't know whether it exists or not), please DON'T use it.

Thank you.

In other news, I am really sleepy. And I so desperately want to open a bag of Cheetos Hot Puffs, but...it's too late for snacks. :[

I did finish a bag of green peas last night, though, while I was watching the Olympics. Phelps was so hot he made me hungry! Haha. I kid. 

Or do I?

Anyways, how about them female American gymnasts? They tried so hard, and I was rooting for them all the way, but in the end...the words that escaped my mouth were "This is a trainwreck." At that, I got up off the couch, dragged my blanket and pillows with me to bed and fell asleep without brushing my teeth. Ewww.

Seriously, though, I really respect what these gymnasts can do. They can twist and tangle their bodies however they want to, while I can barely touch the floor without bending my knees. I was trying a little one-leg stand of my own, though, much to my siblings' disgust. Haha. Ahh...It was not a pretty sight, and we'll leave it at that.

Uhh..

How come Filipino girls in the US all look alike? It's so weird...it's like there's a template for them. They have the same feathered hairstyle, and their clothing preferences are the same. It's so weird...Has anyone else noticed this?

Speaking of the Olympics, I just have to show off my favorite athlete EVERRR. :)

Such Great Heights

I love the Olympics. With all the negativity prevalent today, the Olympics is a contrast - a (quite elaborate) celebration of all that is glorious about mankind. It highlights the extent of human strength and brings the entire world together; even though a lot of controversies surround China right now, all that is set aside to give way to this international celebration.

It's amazing how human beings like myself can withstand cycling through mountainous terrain for an entire 150 miles. Think how numb their legs must be after that ordeal! There's really no other word for it but "amazing." And Michael Phelps? Fuhgeddaboudit! I was just watching the qualifying heats today, and as the commentators were saying that Phelps was preparing to go into cruise control, he breezed right by his competitors. There was a gap of about 10 feet between him and the guy in second place! How does he do that? How can you train yourself to swim faster than any other athlete? How can you become a better gymnast, a better fencer than anyone else in the world? When does that athlete start achieving such great heights?

Kids are COOL

I like random things.

I like cake, and ice cream, and brownies, and milk.

I like kids, balloons, parties, playgrounds, and swings.


Just saying.

Mom's Birthday Gift

My mom and I were lucky enough to tag along with my aunt and uncle to watch Eat Bulaga's live taping in the LA Sports Arena. Though the place was kinda cheap and tacky, I enjoyed watching the noontime variety show that has become embedded in my identity...I think.

Marian Rivera was definitely the highlight of the night. After she did her thing, people started heading for the exits.

This particular episode is gonna air on August 2nd, so watch out. =]

change is good.

I am angry. Despite thinking that all of these feelings were finally buried with my past, something stirred within me when I realized that there could have been some hidden agenda to his flight.

To you: you are nothing to me now.

To her: enjoy yourself.

The sudden upwelling in emotion was temporary, thank goodness, and it was eventually replaced by an odd vindication...a sense of final closure, and a convenient happenstance to make this process a lot easier. But as of 12:16 am on this morning, I can confidently say that I am over you.

In other news, I am loving this internship with the Tiger Woods Foundation! I get to work with kids, hands-on in the classroom, and I have to say that I have never encountered a more dedicated staff. These teachers just genuinely care about the students that come in, and they just inspire me to do whatever I can to help out.

I was tasked to intern for Mr. E's Engineering class, and although it's embarrassing when students ask questions I don't know the answers to (I hadn't even heard of mouse-trap motion or rubber band cars until 2 days ago!), it's always fun to just interact with these kids and get them to open up to me. :] I know I'm not the most sociable person in the world, but I gotta find a way to get out of my comfort zone and "be the role model I want to look up to."

In all honesty, I am so grateful that I got this Earl Woods Scholarship; even though I didn't win any other scholarships, I really think I got the best one. The foundation doesn't just give you money and let you loose with it in the real world; they train you so you can have a successful career. We had a workshop today, and our guest speaker was Karina Hamilton, the director of the SAGE Scholars program at UC Irvine. Can you imagine? This amazingly influential person sat across from me in the board room and talked to me. She was interested in what I had to say, and she spoke such that I felt she was deeply invested in my potential success in a career of my choice. We talked about our mentors for the scholarship; mine is Fernando Niebla, one of the head honchos at Union Bank. Imagine the power in his fingertips. And he volunteered to teach me. Me.

What did I do to deserve such opportunities? I got good grades in high school, but I'm nowhere near as committed as Omar and Sue are. And that's got to change.

I go to Berkeley, and what do I have to show for it? NOTHING. So come this fall, the gloves are coming off. I'm going places, baby. And I'm gonna start showing that I deserve all of these opportunities that are coming to me..

Change your world. =]

honestly,

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.

to the edge of the earth and back.

I had a good idea for a post; I swear I did.

Er...

I love lamp!

:D

iconic

This is my boyfriend - Ikuta Toma. Wouldn't you just love to hold hands with him in the cold rain?

Yes.

Summer! There's too much to do in too little time. Work takes up most of my waking hours...and I spend the rest of my time trying to get some sleep...to get ready for more days of work. It's a vicious cycle. Not that I'm complaining or anything. I love my job. What's not to love about a job that practically landed on my lap while I tried to keep my mouth open to probing alien dental instruments. It was like Christmas, but with money. Haha. Ahh. Sorry.

I honestly love my job, though. On lazy days, I get paid to read F. Sionil Jose's Mass, but let's keep that a secret [okay, internets?]. I get to say that I work in the medical field, and by that I mean...I hound insurance people for claims and make sure that patients still have $$ left in their annual maximums so we can keep the $$ coming in by the loads. But it ain't as grand as it sounds.

What makes me uncomfortable is the constant stereotyping and categorizing that's essentially inseparable to the job description. We give out goodie bags filled with toothbrushes, toothpaste, and dental floss, and it's my assignment to separate these items into bags for either "men," "women," or "kids." Okay, so for the kids it's pretty dang obvious that they get the Spongebob stuff [which I like!], but it's pretty awkward to separate the pink from the blue when you've taken Anthro 3AC like I did. For an entire semester, it was drilled in our heads that the distinction between genders is a societal creation, and by doing my job at the dental office, I was propagating this norm. As whats-her-face [a theorist we read in RS 90B] said, norms are violent because they are, for certain, going to exclude some category. This little girl, for instance, surprised me when she declined my offer of Disney princess stickers after she got her teeth cleaned. She opted for Superman stickers.

"I know Superman's for boys, but I like Superman," she said to her mom.

Awww, the little anthropologist.

I hated Anthro, btw.

Anyway, the stereotyping goes on with the profuse magazine-offering that is part of my job. When the patients are seated in the...room, I have to offer them magazines so they won't be bored. For Filipinas who speak Tagalog, I grab one of the many Star Studio or Yes! magazines from the shelves, never mind that almost all of them are several years old. For Mr. X, who walked in in a dress shirt that spoke "business intellectual" to me, I chose a copy of the National Geographic and Food and Wine. In some cases, the doctor intervenes when he knows what the patient prefers; "Give him a sports magazine," he'd say. And we'd have very little to choose from save for bundles of cycling magazines and ESPN in Spanish.

Is stereotyping in the workplace bad? What if you're all the same ethnicity?

Either way, I still feel awkward when put in a position where I have to stereotype or categorize, but I guess it's all part of the job.

run.

I know for a fact that I am a mean person. I just develop dislikes for certain people's attitudes. It's a hateful disposition, but I can't help myself.

Enter 1. 1 makes everything it touches...seem childish and stupid. While everyone else around it seems to flourish and mature, 1 chooses to trap itself in a bubble of insolent childishness, which is of course unbearable to those who have actually had a taste of the real world without someone's shadow to protect them. GROW UP. You're not gonna be shielded forever. LIFE SUCKS. It's unfair; deal with it. YOU WON'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT, and if you stay bashful and childish like you always do, you won't progress mentally.

2 is amazing. I love you. Every word that comes out of your mouth needs to be written down, broken down, or laughed at. You are simply you. Uncorrupted.

3. You haven't changed a bit. You are still dripping with a plastic veneer that I'd like to peel off and hurl over a cliff. And maybe take you with it. I don't think I'll ever have the guts to face you without a sneer, so...it's probably best if I never, ever see you again. NOBODY GIVES A CRAP about what you have to say. LEARN TO SHUT IT because not everyone is interested in what your shit smelled like this morning. Get over yourself, please.

4. My favorite flake. Simply unbearable. What lies you weave. It's true that diction really is everything; what you say and what you don't say can make a world of a difference. See, I hate liars, so by default...[hmm...I won't bother writing the syllogism anymore. It's too obvious.]

Haha. I am so hateful. I'm going to hell.

viva la vida [and religious imagery]!

[Coldplay's Viva La Vida is one of few artistically inspiring songs in a long while. Hurray for Christology and religious imagery!]

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sweep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
Once you go there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world


It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become

Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

08

I went to Western High School's graduation today. Ah, nostalgia. To think that it was a year ago when I myself was standing in that football field, enrobed in white and clad with trinkets and sashes that indicated my triumph over that merciless beast - high school.

They were all so happy. I bet they were all dressed in their best, ready to celebrate the biggest event in their lives.

For some, I know for certain that this high school graduation will be the crowning peak of their lives. They may never be as high up on a pedestal as they were today, for after tonight, all of their paths must fork and wind towards different directions. Some will go off to college...get their bachelors'...their masters'...but some still will remain stagnant at where they are, and perhaps even backpedal towards meager jobs at McDonald's or at Knott's Berry Farm.

They were all so happy. I wonder if all of them have given a thought as to what they're going to do in a few years. I wonder if they'll all outgrow the drama of four years spent in an isolated society kept alive by stereotypes, labels, and cliches. I wonder if they'll ever form happier memories, or if they'll just keep on looking back at their yearbooks and recall their high school lives.

In all honesty, I do believe that it is during high school that the strong are weeded out amongst the weak. How you fare in those four years determines where you go forward in life. Shallow though it may have been, I guess high school really is all that important.

Scars of Time

It's been a week.

I don't understand why my emotions keep wavering. One moment, I'm completely assured that this is what I want - that both of us are headed towards right directions (away from one another, might I add), and the next moment I'm on the verge of tears because I fear that I've lost what may perhaps be the most beautiful thing in my life.

This is really...tough. I don't know where I'm going to get the strength to fight my sadness, when he had been the constant shoulder I cried on. He had been the sole listener to all my plights, and now he's gone. To whom am I going to vent all of these emotions? Surely, if I keep these to myself, I'd burst like a bubble.

I just wish I knew if we made the right decision or not. I just wish I could peer into my future to see what lies ahead, just so I know what to do.

I am still in love with you. It's hard to force myself to feel otherwise. But because we say it's not working, I have no choice but to feed myself half-hearted rationalizations.

But time will pass, and wounds will give way to scars.

My, what a beautiful scar this one will be.