Cheers to February!

I started the Love Month on my deathbed but ended it with a bang. So, what happened in February 2012?

Aside from being diagnosed with Upper Respiratory Tract Infection (again) and spending the first two days of the month in quarantine, I missed my appointment in Department of Foreign Affairs for my passport. I planned to get my passport this summer for Team Malaysia's out of the country experience together, but things got rough and I got sick, so I passed. I intended to set another appointment, but the passport failed to reach my top five short term priorities. Anyway, hopefully I'd be able to remember it this March.

I was under medication for eight days. Imagine my life without beer for eight consecutive days. I was a lot slower and more stupid than my usual self. Actually, the doctor advised me to take antibiotics for 10 days, but on my 8th day, I forgot to bring my meds with me. And I was offered beer during the Feast of St. Guillermo and Virgin del Rosario in Pasig. 

In this feast, two important things happened: one, I forgot my phone in my officemate's house. That was the first time I forgot my phone. Ever. Two, I rekindled an old flame and started to appreciate life, culture, and diversity again.

After that, I went to Cagayan de Oro with Tin and Faith. Ekat was supposed to be with us, but she OD-ed herself and woke up two hours before our flight to CDO.

The trip to CDO was a humbling experience. I saw some of the evacuation sites for Sendong victims. I was able to observe people from different walks of life. Though I did not taste the real life in CDO, at least, I was slightly exposed to the reality in the area. Despite the harsh realization, I was still able to enjoy exploring some of its areas and spending most of our stay there in sleeping and watching re-runs of HIMYM in our hotel room. 

Four days after the trip, I got my head hammered by alcohol at the Phi Lambda Delta Sorority's Impulse: Straight Up, No Chaser event at Republiq. It was my first time to go there, I would admit. (I am not a party party girl. I am more of a chillax beer drinker.) And it was definitely an experience. I, together with other friends, drank to our heart's content. The peg was "drink 'til you die." We were able to drink, dance, sit. It was more than what we paid for, really. Definitely sulit! All thanks to Gellai, of course! 

The next day, I woke up with a monster hangover in Manila. I slept for another two hours and everything went hazy from there. The next thing I knew, I was in MOA, meeting Briege, Jemuel, and Abi for Star Wars: Phantom of the Menace 3D. Unfortunately, the mall was not showing Star Wars anymore. We walked the under the exploding man-made stars during the Pyrolympics and decided to go to Tagaytay. In which case, I found myself drinking with them until the five in the morning. 

After getting intoxicated for two consecutive nights, I once again realized the beauty of living young, wild, and free. It was not exactly good for the health, but memories were made during times of drunken stupor. And these memories would probably be the stories you'd share with your future grandchildren. 

Having a twin monster hangover, I headed back to Manila in the afternoon and went straight to Cafe Polli (their coffee is cheap but tastes good!) to meet Gellai, who just came from Baguio at the time. After spending some quality time together (that included I surfing the net and she studying for an exam), we, together with Gela, went to Ping Mang to have dinner.

I was on the third day of recovery from my intense liver and physical workout when I was assigned to set foot in Sorsogon. Exhausted and still a little hungover from my previous engagements, I woke up one hour before my flight to Legaspi City. Good thing I live 30 minutes away from the airport, I was able to be at the boarding area (after several mishaps like going through the entrance for male passengers twice, etc.) at exactly 6:10am, just in time for the delayed boarding. 

After landing in Legaspi, I, together with other officemates, had breakfast at Bigg's Diner (probably one of the coolest diner I've seen by far). In search for Marshall's Burger (aka the Best Burger), I ordered Bacon with Mushroom Cheeseburger. After a few bites, I decided to shortlist it alongside burgers from Wham! Burgers, Wendy's, Mcdo, Burger Brothers, Slammers, and Angel's (for more taghirap moments, you know.)  After stuffing ourselves with food, we then headed to Sorsogon. After two hours of sticking our assess to the seat, we found ourselves in Vera Maris, a resort that I deemed as the perfect venue for Shake, Rattle and Roll experiences. After checking in, we had our lunch at Cafe Rosita, which is probably the coziest place in Gubat, Sorsogon. We stayed in Sorsogon for three days and two nights for fieldwork. We headed back to Legaspi on the night of our third day to catch the first flight to Manila. 

Back in Manila, I had to face reality--work. On the last few days of the month, my fuse broke. It must be due to stress, unmet expectations, raging hormones, and other things I'd rather keep to myself. Nevertheless,  diplomacy ruled after letting out my bottled thoughts and emotions. All's well that ends well. 

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*This is subject to revision in the future 

**I'd probably post another blog entry about my food choices in February, let me just take my time. 

Multiple Choices

I have been trying to write a blog entry for the past two weeks, but I just can't seem to finish anything that I started. 

I tried writing about my Cagayan de Oro trip and how I proved the mantra: what goes around comes around. I tried composing something about my Valentine's Date and what I came to realize after it. I tried finishing an article about friendship, alcohol, and Friday Nights and morning afters. I tried writing about unplanned road trips and drunken nights. But I just could not seem to finish anything. Is it because a.) I am busy with other things; b.) I am just too lazy to think; c.) Writing is not and will never be an easy task; d.) I am happy; or e.) all of the above?

The answer is, of course, E. All of the above.

A. I am busy with other things. Since November 2011, things are slowly unfolding before me. I never thought of being a government employee at the age of 21. (Yes, a government employee under the current administration. Who would have thought, right? If you knew me in college, you'll understand what I mean.) Much more, I never thought of being busy given the idea of a typical government employee. Guess, I was wrong. Aside from work, I have also been spending most of my time reading or sleeping or going out and/or drinking with friends.

B. I am just too lazy to think. Enough said. 

C. Writing is not and will never be an easy task. I need to feel it, and the feeling only comes once in a blue moon. 

D. I am happy. One cannot simply write when happy, because things are too hazy. Thanks to happy hormones. I must feel down or angry or totally moved in order to write. I just cannot write when I am happy. Why? Because words drown in elation. 

So, yeah. I guess, that's just it. 

By Academic Standards

And the constant battle with myself begins... 

Reasons why I think I am not an achiever (by academic standards):

1. I did not graduate with a laude standing.
2. I was not active in school.
3. I was pretty mediocre in school.
4. I don't have a title (like Engr., Dr., Atty., PhD blah blah blah)
5. My life choices were stupid. 

Reasons why I should think that I am an achiever:

1. I sent myself to school. 
2. I worked my ass off to pay for school-related stuff (alcohol, food, etc.)
3. I had good grades. 
4. I was a drunkard who graduated on time. 
5. I made my mom proud of me. 

I am pretty sure that academic standards will not and should not be the basis of my own person, but still... I have issues right now. I know I cannot do something about the past. It's just that it pays to reflect on it for us to be able to understand the present. Oh well. 

Side B

Can you keep a secret? Because I have a confession to make. 

This is hard for me. I'd appreciate it if this admission will stay between the two of us. I don't usually do this, but I guess it is high time that I acknowledge this version of me. So, here it is: I think less of myself more than what I admit to the world.

To put it simpler, I am insecure. I am this big ball of insecurity. I sure don't look like it, but I feel it. The insecurity gnaws my being. It sucks my awesomeness as a person. I know I should not feel that way or even think that way, but I am human, too. I have my own issues. 

People tell me that I am one of the most confident people they've met, that they are amazed by how I don't give a fuck about everyone's standards and norms, that blah blah blah. Sure, thanks. But here's the truth: that's just a facade.

I'd like to think that I am really all that and more, but every time I do so, the more I realize that I am just this pretentious, full of shit, annoying, and insecure girl (Yes, talk about self-pity.) The more I think, the more I realize that I've amounted to nothing (based on the society's standards or success) for the past years. I may only be saying this because I have achiever college friends, but I don't know. I am not comparing myself to them. It's just that, I want more for myself. Do I even make sense? I mean, where am I right now? Sure, I have many aspirations in life and for my future, but what am I doing with my life right now? What are these life choices I've made? What have I done to myself? How will I be able to get through this period? What to do? What to do? Oh. Shit. Not. Again. 

I have nothing. I am nothing. Maybe in another time, I would argue that having nothing and being nothing is actually a good thing. But not this time. Not this time. 

Everything fades into memories

There's nothing like the first real heartbreak. It burns like the cold, sending chills down your spine, paralyzing your senses. It pierces through your soul like a newly oiled sword, leaving you breathless and incapacitated. Something always has to remind you of something with someone somewhere. The random replay of memory of what was sends you into the twilight zone. It seems pointless, but it feels like it only happened yesterday. But one must move on. One must realize his or her worth. One must be free from the past.