Rough Cuts

If my life was a movie, it would be one with rough cuts with no smooth transitions.

The last semester of my last year in college kicks off tomorrow. Wow. Typing those words just gave me the chills. As the age-old cliché goes, “Time flies.” It gives not only me but also my parents an unparalleled amount of relief and satisfaction that after two decades of conforming with the rules of the academic institutions I’ve entered into, I will finally be on my own and show to the world the person I became after getting through a very rough road.

I really don’t know how everything came to this. Or shall I say, I don’t know how everything went by so fast or perhaps, how things and people have gone too soon. I can still recall so vividly my days in grade school and even if you ask me to name every adviser I’ve had since I was in nursery, I can instantly do so with much confidence and no amount of skepticism whatsoever. The point is, it only seemed like yesterday when I was just a futile lass in my bloomers with no care whether the world was flat, or round, or an oblate spheroid.

Now, look at me. I am no longer a teenager but I still feel like a 16-year old.  I may be young but I’m not naïve. In fact, when I had a few drinks at my friend’s house the other week, we talked about serious, pervasive matters like the country’s current economic status, politics, the global recession, et. Al. We used to just talk about the latest issues on other people’s lives- who’s the newest teenage mom, who dropped out from school, who fucked whom, etc. It only proves that somehow, I can charge my personal development to my experiences and I can proudly say that I have already matured and outgrown those qualities that once consumed me.

I must say I owe, if not everything, most of the person that I am today to my professors who taught me not only the pedagogical phase of being a student, but they showed me the reality of life. Reality was forced right into my mouth and shoved right down into my throat so I had no choice but to swallow the whole of it like a bitter cough syrup. You don’t like it but you still take it in because you know you need it.

Their slave-driving efforts really paid off. Just like a sword, I have been soldered, put into fire and hammered. Excruciatingly, I must add. But just like a true fighter, I wrestled with all my might and brought out my greatest weapon- my passion. I know it’s not time for me to brag yet because I still have five months to go and only God knows the future, but I think I have the bragging rights to say that I’ve been through a lot but I’ve managed to get through by putting my heart into every task that came my way.

I was deeply touched when a famous TV host interviewed a world-renowned singer who already stood the test of time and an awful lot of controversies, asking, “Why are you still singing?” The singer simply replied, “I love what I’m doing and I don’t see myself doing anything else.” I would like to be able to say the exact worlds one day. I would like to be able know where I really want to be and start working on it.

In the end, it all boils down to one’s definition of success. Others may define it as having a big fat bank account and being a big shot professional. I say otherwise. For me, success is doing what you want while enjoying doing it. As what is said in the business management’s famous Theory Y, “Work should be as natural as play.”

And though my life at present only seems to be a series of rough cuts, my foresight tells me that the cuts will be linked to form the greatest montage and I will gladly sit back to watch it on the loop.

World Teachers’ Day

Thank a teacher today. 

From the time you were in nursery learning the alphabets to the moment you took your PhD, it was your teachers who guided you every step of the way. So, today as we celebrate the World Teachers’ Day, it’s time to pay tribute to the people who help shape and challenge our minds, and guide us for lifelong learning.

Since 1994, the World Teachers’ Day is celebrated on October 5 with the aim of honoring the noble profession of educators and to stimulate international standards for the teaching profession. United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization encourages students and concerned government and private organizations to embark on activities that will show appreciation for the contributions of teachers in education and national development. With the theme ‘Teachers for Gender Equality’, teachers, both male and female aim to unite and urge the students for the crusade against gender inequality by being good examples, themselves. 

This year, the university will be unison with the effort of UNESCO by resonating the organization’s campaign to mobilize support for teachers. With the charism of St. John Baptist De La Salle as the patron saint of all teachers, a Teachers’ Tribute program spearheaded by the College of Education student council will be held at Santuario De La Salle at 3 p.m. in honor of the teachers’ mighty efforts of teaching minds, touching hearts and transforming lives. 

Teaching is more like a vocation than a profession. Let’s face it; no teacher has probably earned a fortune by merely teaching. Students should be grateful for their teacher’s hard work and perseverance when they could have chosen another profession that would have made them big shot professionals or probably work in other countries just to earn a higher pay. 

They do not only impart academic knowledge but together with the parents, they are the frontliners of inculcating values and correct moral judgment to the children. They should be thanked, if not more, equally as the parents. Parents only give life to the children when teachers teach them how to live their lives. 

Students are encouraged to send a teacher a letter or a card of appreciation but perhaps the best way to thank them on World Teacher’s Day is to show them that we are striving to become the best that we can be- caring and responsible individuals. All we are and all we ought to be- we owe it to our teachers.

Crying with the Sky

This morning I cried with the sky.

I woke up to a Monday morning where shadows cast over the clouds. I used to love Mondays. It signals the start of a new week and for a person like me who is very sanguine, I think of it as a start of a new life, to continue doing the right things I’ve done the past week and an opportunity to correct the wrong things. I used to consider my Monday’s as the appetizer of my main dish, which is the rest of the days of the week. But this Monday was totally different.

I woke up with a very beaten up disposition caused by the departmental sports event that we had yesterday. That really gobbled my reserved energy for the next three days, at least. I am drained but I am happy because we bagged the thing that our class coveted the most- the championship trophy. But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this right now.

I thought this was going to be just like the usual Monday’s that I have. I got up from bed and opened my laptop and browsed through my mail and my FB notifications. I saw this message from a high school friend saying that she misses me. In a split second, tears rolled down from my eyes relentlessly just as the rain poured down from the clouds.

I miss my friends terribly. We were as close as pods in a pea during high school and things changed when we stepped into college. My closest friends went to other cities for college and my best friend migrated to another country. W-O-W! For several nights I felt solitary. I felt like being castigated because the people I love the most are leaving me just like my dad, whom I love so much. He works in another city and I’m left with my mom who is the exact opposite. Now you can’t really blame me if I developed the ‘separation anxiety’ and worse, I think history is repeating itself now that I’m already about to graduate.

I hate the feeling of leaving people and I hate the feeling of people leaving me. I love my friends so much and even just the thought of spending a day without them pains me. The joy they’re giving me is a far cry from the joy that I’m getting at home.

I love them. And before I leave them to fish-eating-fish world out there, I want to say a few words to their soon-to-be new friends who will be taking my place: BEFORE I LEAVE THEM TO YOU, PROMISE ME THAT YOU WILL LOVE THEM EVEN JUST HALF AS MUCH AS I DO.

P.S.: and yes, nostalgia is a bitch. 

A Giver of Smiles

She does not only make smiling masks but she also makes people smile.

For Julie Balinas, the MassKara Festival is more than just an annual merrymaking of flamboyant banderitas and street dancing. The festival has been a huge part of her life as it does not only bring smiles but also livelihood.

Julie has been manufacturing wedding giveaways made of ceramics at the age of 16. She started molding ceramics right after high school since she has never set foot on college due to her family’s impoverished situation. To her demise, the ceramic industry was catapult down the drain during the regime of former president Fidel V. Ramos as the economy concentrated on agricultural developments and not on the arts.

One of her closest friends recommended her to the Provincial Tourism Office. Her first commission was to make MassKara necklaces as tokens for the Prosecutors’ Convention held here in Bacolod in 2001. The tourism office really loved her work so she was given another project the week after which was for the Doctors’ Convention. It started with those two conventions and the giving of smiles has continued since then.

This year marks Julie’s 10^th year of making masks and giving smiles. Since this is her only source of income to sustain her family’s needs, the production of the masks is done year-round. Her husband is also working in a public college as the one in charge of posting the school’s streamers but his meager income cannot suffice the needs of their children.

“I do not earn much in this livelihood but I can affirm that what I earn is just enough to pay the bills and the school fees of my children,” Julie said. 

Since Julie only finished high school, her ultimate dream is for all her five children to finish college and secure a degree from a reputable school. In that way, they will be alleviated from poverty. Julie said that making masks has been very helpful to their lives. In fact, two of her children already graduated from college just because of the mask making. One is already a teacher in a public college and the other one is already working full time in a Computer Company here in the city. “I am proud to say that one of my daughters will already be graduating on March with a degree of Business Administration,” She said. It is my pride and honor that I’m able to raise my children with a decent livelihood.

“Mask making is a tedious process,” Julie said. The masks are first molded and then baked. After which, they are painted with various colors and the final touch, is putting a smile to the masks.

“I couldn’t do everything alone,” Julie said, adding that, “I thank my children for being so supportive of our livelihood. They go home straight from school and help me. They are actually the ones who are designing the masks and painting them. This way, they wouldn’t have time to engage in harmful things like drugs.”

Whenever the MassKara Festival draws near and the demands are high, Julie asks the help of some of her neighbors and she also gives them commission. “This way, I’m able to spare them from just doing their routine of playing cards in the sidewalks and let them do something worthwhile while they also earn.”

Now that she’s already 54, Julie has expanded her market saying, “Hotel managers and even foreigners visit me in this little shack,” looking up to the ceiling of her wrecked bahay kubo. “And besides, my English is not that good,” She jested.

Some street vendors also get supplies from Julie during the peak of the MassKara festival. “I can’t even count the number of masks I’m able to make in a year,” she quipped.  

“I would like the rest of the world to witness the MassKara Festival,” Julie said, adding that, “I am not saying this just because I am a Bacolodnon but because there is no other festival in the world which is as merry and there are no other people who are as happy as the Bacolodnons. We always carry a smiling face no matter how many problems we have and it has become a legacy for us to just shrug off at any problem in a good way.”

Bacolod City has been ranked by Money Sense as the best city to live in among 64 other cities in the country and Julie’s glitzy masks are only one of the reasons why we should visit Bacolod during MassKara. The city offers a wide array of sceneries and activities like the Street Dancing, the Electric MassKara Parade, the kiosks along the public plaza and Lacson Street, and of course, no visitor has ever gone home from a visit in Bacolod without having a stick of the delectable chicken inasal.

 “I am happy to see smiling faces when people buy my masks. This gives me a sense of fulfillment and makes me feel that perhaps, my purpose in this world is to paint smiles not only to the masks I make but also to the people who buy them,” Julie said, adding, “All I am and all I ought to be, I ought it to the smiles.” #

Shaken

 

I was jolted by the news that Negros, the island where I am in, was hit by a 6.2 magnitude earthquake earlier today. It dismayed me not because I was thoughtful of those contrived areas in the remote shires of the island (so much for philanthropy!) but because if ever that upheaval hit our place, my non-existence will not cause so much of an uproar because let’s face it, I have never done anything noteworthy which can be considered as a legacy. I mean, I’m barely 20, I deserve to live.

It was just a few days ago when I had a really upright rational talk with a few friends about the future. To give you a background, we define “future” as nine months from now, which is after graduation. I had a chat with a MassComm alumni and he told me that the competition is really formidable and brutal in the real world setting. He even added that there will be times when “who you know” will be far important than “what you know” so one must really capitalize on that. What I personally noticed in the field that I am about to enter is that your professors/mentors become your colleagues. Isn’t it such a wonderful thing? You become one of the people whom you once venerated.

I wish I will also turn out to be one of the renowned media practitioners when my time comes. You heard me right; I really intend to work in the field of media so that whatever I learned during the last couple of years will not go to waste. However, I think that I would best fit in the corporate side of media conglomerates if not on the creative side but one thing’s for sure, I will never be in production. That’s just not my thing.

I have outlined plans but it’s not like I know what’s gonna happen in the future. No one does. I am not sure of where I will be a few months from now but I am positive and quite certain that wherever the wind of destiny will take me, I’ll be just fine. Not to brag but I think I have learned a lot not only from school but from the people I have crossed my roads with in my closely two-decade sojourn in this world. My teachers who are so good at being slave-drivers taught me a lot of things, among others; they taught me how to fight.

I am also driven by my Media Management class to keep on dreaming and keep on dreaming big. I am inspired by my idols to keep looking at them and allow myself to imagine being on their shoes one day and I am stirred by my mentors to chase whatever my heart tells me to and go for the jugular.

That’s why the news about the earthquake really stunned me. It made me realize that no; I am not ready yet. There are still a hundred other countries I haven’t traversed, thousands of cuisines I haven’t savored, millions of amazing people I haven’t met and most of all, I still have a myriad of abilities that are yet to be harnessed, if not discovered. Haha!

So, to the earthquakes, tsunamis, typhoons, flash floods, tidal waves and all the other catastrophes out there, don’t you ever strike! I am still here trying to make a mark. 

Dali Na

Witness our insanity and see what we did during our Hiligaynon Communication class earlier. We were tasked to make a jingle which was supposed to be about nutrition (using Hiligaynon of course). Despite the comical circumstance, we emerged as winners. Watch and LOLIRL. 

"Dali Na"

Dali Na, dali na mga toto kag inday

pati na kamo mga tiyoy kag tiyay

kari na, kari na, kita magkaon na

sang mga pagkaon nga masustansya

Ako si karot, gapasanag sang mata

Ako naman si balunggay, ga hatag resistensya

Kami naman si Gatas gapabakod sang tul-an

Ako si petchay! bunuta niyo na ko sa inyo talamnan

Babay na, babay na, mga chichirya

Halit na sa lawas, buslot pa imo bulsa

Idugang sa pinggan karne, manok isda

Para ang kabuhi manami kag masadya

Gani man, gani man kita tanan tanan

Magkaon mabatyagan ang kauswagan

"Sorpresa"

Doing the shot list was hilarious but we never knew that shooting the actual film would be hysterical, and riotous- causing an uproar between and among the production staff and the actors. Here are some of the shots we took for our Film Editing class:

(The captions tell everything)

She rolled out of her deep slumber because of the jolting volume of the alarm, 

reminding her that it is their (her and her boyfriend’s) monthsary

She decided to set off and make plans for the big day

As she was scouring for a surprise present for him in a gift shop, she met a guy 

whom she instantaneously had a crush with, the same guy who recommended

 that she should buy a picture frame for her boyfriend as a gift to remind him 

of their love everyday

Because of some twisted fate, she ended up having the worst ride 

of her life at the back of a tricycle— head over heels; 

she did everything just to give her man a surprise

She knocked on his door but there was no answer. 

Luckily, she had a key so she let herself in. 

She was dumbfounded by the scenery. 

She caught her man exuberantly having sex. 

What’s despicable was that fact that he was having sex with a guy. 

It wasn’t just any other guy but it was the guy she saw earlier at 

the gift shop whom she felt like she had an instant connection with. 

The look of chagrin embedded on their faces. 

Her present, the picture frame that the guy suggested her to buy
was smashed in pieces onto the floor. WHAT A SURPRISE!

FYI, this is a true story.

We had so much fun taping the love scenes because it was awkward and surreal but for the sake of the craft, there were no holds barred. Our talents were more than willing to take everything (yes, everything!) off.  

I am both agitated and excited to see the final output after the editing and just to put an add on, we have a post-credit shot which is shocking and downright scandalous.

I shall post the final film after editing it. Can’t wait!!!

The Science of Conscience

It was revealed to me like an apocalypse.

I have defied my parents in ways that some of you can never even imagine but last Saturday’s turn of events verified one thing: I definitely have a conscience.  

It was a revelation not only because I was able to prove to my mom and many others that I am a conscience-driven person but I consider it as such because significantly, I have confirmed for myself that I still have that inner force which guides me as I go through life no matter how tempting things can get.

There are habits of mine which I am eager to give up but I admittedly find it hard to do so. This month I have proven that I can live with the absence of the things that I desperately coveted for so long. I’m sure many of us have been through the whole need vs. want contrast thing and what my conscience taught me was how to prioritize the first compared to the latter. Needless to say, I already have all the things I need. I confess that there were times when I felt that I was deprived of so many things but I discovered later on that the deprivation I felt was nothing but a phantom. In short, it turned out to be just another one of my self-inflicted pains that I was so abhorrent of.

“Give us this day our daily bread,” just like what is said in the prayer that Jesus himself taught us, we are not supposed to be anxious about tomorrow; rather, live one day at a time. But don’t get me wrong. This doesn’t mean that we should quit dreaming and preparing for the future. It simply means that sometimes, amidst all the odds, it helps to stop and smell the flowers. When life is going too punitive, it’s your cue to step at the brakes. Take a pause and breathe. And that’s exactly what I’m doing right now.

No, I’m not idle. I’m just honored to say that I finally came to the point when I already know how to juggle. Having two hands does not mean that we’re only allowed to hold two things at once. Juggling, appropriately, I must add, is the key. Not only was I able to know HOW to juggle but also know WHAT to juggle. We may not always go for what’s best for us that is why it helps to listen. Hearing how other people define us and what they want us to be is a far cry from listening to our own hearts to properly define ourselves and find out what we really aspire to be.

And so, as I went back to bed last Saturday night, I thanked God for giving me conscience and the maturity to know how to follow it.

So maybe that’s why it’s spelled that way-- con + science… neither you nor me can impeccably expound on what conscience is really all about. Even science cannot elucidate conscience. All we know is that it is a whispering voice that tells us what to do and what not to do but in the end, we still call the shots because the verdict is still ours to make. 

A Taste of Liberty

(late post)

We lived in a five-star hotel, swaggered at the streets of the famed Harbour City, shopped, and dived into food like we’ve just been released from prison… roughly translated means, WE LIVED OUR LIVES at least for a week.

Yes, my sister and I were out of our home country unaccompanied by our parents for the first time. At first, the thought of it terrified me, thinking that I can’t even manage to take care of myself at times; so how will it be possible for me to take care not only of myself but also of another human being?

Me, pounding the keyboard of my laptop to type this is proof that we made it. We managed to be back home in one piece and my parents didn’t reach the point of slaughtering me for abandoning my sister (well, they almost did).

Here are some of the photos of me and my baby sister during our Hong Kong trip:

On board Boeing 747. Good thing we passed through the immigration considering
that my sister is just a minor so we went through getting a travel clearance for her at
theregional office in Iloilo before leaving. 

The path of wisdom going to the Giant Buddha at Ngong Ping

We made a promise that we were going to try the most thrilling rides.
So this photo above is THE FLASH at Ocean Park and we also tried the
SPACE MOUNTAIN at Disneyland. 

With our cousin, Kristina at the Victoria Harbour. Good thing she
 was there for  a conference so we had some company and
someone to treat us from time to time. haha! 

Harbour City. This is where we lived for a week. It is the most
 expensive shopping mall in HK. Yes, we lived inside a mall. 

My professor and a friend was there for a conference and so I deemed it proper
to visit them. It was an hour away from my hotel to the university where they
were staying but I managed to go there by myself even if it was in another island. 

Sleepless nights. Since we lived in a shopping district, we were awake until the
wee hours- eating, shopping or just merely strolling. We return to the hotel at 2 am. 

The look of this guy in the Marco Polo Elevator is just despicable! 

Grooming for roving. 

Being huge Disney fans, we went to the land where problems didn't exist. 

Squeezy enjoyed blasting the asteroids. 

The Golden Mickeys. 

EPIC FAIL. That machine at the back was supposed to read the palm of my
hands and predict my future. Well, it did but it printed the prophecy in Chinese.
FML. 

The famed Victoria Peak. 

Oh yes, I just can't help it. 

Although budgeting and taking care of ourselves while having clean fun was pretty tough, one thing's for sure, we'll definitely do it again!  

Wanting to Cheat

Perhaps the best way to flee this melodramatic conviction is to get a razor blade out of that little china cabinet at my bedside and slash it upon my wrist… but that would be cheating.

I have speculated several times that I have disappointed you at almost all facets of your many splendored dreamcoat of glories. You didn’t have to rub it in.

But who’s to blame? The answer is me.

I blame myself for being so incompetent and substandard. I am not like the others who have a cornucopia of prowesses- masters of all trade. You had your hopes on me for fulfilling one of your dreams but to no avail because my mediocrity slammed the doors shut which occasionally presses me to entertain the thought that the answer is not only me but also you. You are equally culpable as I am because it was you in the first place who imposed such statuesque expectations. Yes, your expectations were surmountable. It’s just that God sent you me. I may be your price to pay for all the villainy that you have done. I am the most preposterous diversion that you have never endured until now.

I feel bad for you. I do. A damn shame, really, that I had to have you and that you had to have me. It can't be easy having me. Nothing can ever prepare someone for this kind of disappointment.

I pamper the feeling of being a malfunction in your could-have-been perfect life. I spend my nights with damp pillows filled with my tears of chagrin. How do I get by? I DON’T.

That razor blade is lonesome in that little china cabinet and using it is as enticing as a mouth-watering triple chocolate mousse. I want to use it. I want to cheat my way through life or shall I say, cheat life by deliberately catapulting by body six feet under.

But I shall vindicate myself. A flicker of hope is slowly devouring my remorseful heart.

That razor blade will be kept hidden in that little china cabinet because someday, you’ll see that I will make you proud and it will be the most excruciating slap-on-the-face you will ever taste!

The Wannabe's

Idle minds covet evil thoughts, indeed. 

So we were at the Granada Eco Park yesterday for the culmination of our school's Summer Fest and as we were waiting for our ride home, we got too bored and guess what we came up with? Some of my classmates asked me to take photos of them as they pose for action photos with the usual stuff that you would see in action movies where a super hero combats a super villain. In our case, we only utilized the resources that were available namely: a gigantic native fan and a monobloc chair.

You can’t blame us for being so amateur-ish. The result? The photos are extremely hilarious and downright ridiculous!

Here are some of those photos that I wouldn’t ever forget (look and laugh):

Mel with the hair-flying effect as precious hits her with the fan

Precious looks like she's gonna dance or something

Ready to kick some ass

oh, their facial expressions!

Nico was in character while Carla was merely having fun doing jumpshots

Mel looked like she was high on weed, Precious, ready for combat while Carla, just enjoying

I already posted these on my Facebook account but I want the best photos of the album to be duplicated here because they really made me laugh like hell as I repeatedly scanned the album and reminisce the moment when we redundantly desperately trying to be action stars. Epic!

My Sweetest Downfall

The most challenging, honorable occupation anyone can ever have is the job of a mother. Doctors, lawyers, and teachers have no say to what mothers can do.

My mom is a superwoman because she is not merely the woman who bore me out into this world but she is the encapsulation of all the other occupations. She is a doctor, for nursing my wounds from knee scrapes to guileless paper cuts, a lawyer, for defending my side whenever I pick a fight, a teacher who aids as I cram for my exams and a nanny for attending to my needs.

a photo of me and mama during my 18th birthday

I remember one time when my mom and dad had a big fight; my mom told me that no matter how much agony dad was giving her, she never regretted having married him because by marrying him, she gained the two most precious gifts- me and my sister. She may not say it but I know in my heart that her children are her number one priority.

You may have read in my preceding posts of how I despise my mom and how she makes my life a living hell. The truth is, I just hate her because I hate myself. I hate myself for falling so short of her expectations. So since its Mother’s Day today, here is a letter I wrote for her:

Dear Mama,

I’m sorry for all the times I answered you back and for thinking that my opinions are more important than yours. Thank you, Mama for being my inspiration. I may not tell you that I love you everyday but I know you know that my love for you is as unconditional as yours to me.

That is why sometimes I am ashamed of what I have become because people might think that you didn’t raise me well when the truth is you did a very great job. You never failed to warn me about all of life’s complexities. You and Papa worked hard to send me to the best schools and provide me with my needs and most of my wants.

I grew up to be a very strong person for having been surpassed all of those trials over the years. Whatever it may be, I am confident that I’ll get through it but when it comes to you and I, I am suddenly debilitated because you are my sweetest downfall. Whenever we fight, the hurt that I feel is twice as much as when I have fights with random people. Maybe because other people can never hurt me the way my loved ones can. It’s always the people closest to my heart who cause me the most excruciating pain. It ridicules me on what started the aloofness that’s continuing to happen between the two of us. How can two people, who love each other so unconditionally possibly, end up in a fight? But no matter what the bases and the consequences are, I know that we remain to love each other mutually, a love which is far beyond words.

No amount of THANK YOU can suffice for everything that you sacrificed for me. I know that you could have bought some of the things that you dreadfully wanted but you didn’t because you were thinking of me and my sister’s welfare.

I promise you this: SOMEDAY I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PROUD.

I love you, Mama. Happy Mother’s Day.

How I wish I was fearless enough to not just publish it here but give this to her personally but to no avail because I’m reluctant and I don’t want to go through the melodramatic scene. 

Despite all the drama, I still consider my mom as the most important person in my life, even more important than my dad. She is my idol because she is the epitome of a superwoman.

All I am and all I ought to be I owe it to my mom.

by far the happiest photo I have with my mom,
 and needless to say, my favorite

PS: Sorry… Late post. I’ve been a busy bee.

Antidote and Mediator in One

It’s amazing how a cup of coffee refashions the usual way of things.

I had my first sip when I was a whimsical lass at six with nothing to worry about but the dresses of my little paper dolls which I unfailingly tended. Its hotness coincided with its bitterness. I thought it was a perfect tool to keep a sleepy soul hypervigilant which is probably the reason why my grandmamma necessitates at least a cup whenever she feels like dosing off. But now that I’m already 19, a cup of coffee means so much more to me than only that.

I do not fancy grandiose coffee shops with sophisticated ambiances. I would rather go for the delectable taste over the eminent brand. Believe it or not, the best cup of coffee I have ever tasted can be bought in an infamous spot here in our city- a side street. But that doesn’t keep me away from posh coffee shops whenever I need a quiet place to study or a venue for my regular pondering/decision making.

An invigorating cup of coffee at Business Inn

Coffee is not just a mere antidote to combat sleepiness but to me, it serves as a mediator. It binds me and my prized friends despite our busy schedules. We have our random coffee rendezvous just for the purpose of sharing and knowing the ensuing updates about our flamboyant lives. We don’t want to miss out on anything like the latest sexual venture of one or the demise of the love affairs of another. Each coffee session is unplanned which makes it even more thrilling.

Anika, me, Fea and Nikki during one of our random coffee rendezvous

Yes, it keeps me awake to lambast those forbidding deadlines, invigorates my animo and slaps me really hard to face back reality when I already hear the words, “Earth calling Sophia” and I’m already being summoned in the midst of my daily daydreaming. However, beyond those conspicuous reasons rises the oblivious fact that without it, I might not be able to see my friends that often. We all have our own itineraries to attend to and having a cup of coffee functions as the perfect alibi to escape from all our worldly obligations and be one of the rumormongers in “Blabbermouthlandia”. But, we don’t just talk, we also listen. We open our ears while simultaneously opening our hearts to hear each story and give our emphatic sentiments.

Yes, it’s truly amazing how a cup of coffee refashions the usual way of things and as years go by, I hope to have countless coffee sessions with my girls no matter how busy we’ll be.

P.S.        I thank the kind and understanding attendants at Business Inn for religiously refilling our cups with more coffee even before we call them to do so, complete with the package of creamer and fresh milk to set the mood.

Give-and-take

This afternoon I was invited to participate in the focused group discussion of our adopted community in a small barangay here in the city. They are our Muslim brothers and sisters whom our predecessors have been visiting over the last two years and I personally want to resuscitate the legacy of being a philanthropist in my own right regardless of whether or not this will be a part of our curriculum.

Gawk at some of my snapshots.   

Meet JOY. She was the most endearing of them all and unlike others, she was low-keyed yet dynamic during activities. She deliberately posed for my camera several times over so I guess we have a rising star right here, a cam whore at the age of four?…. Naaaah, I’m just kidding!

Lopez Jaena Elementary School. I am not an alien to this place because this is where I cast my vote during local and national elections. However, it was my first time today to see the place free from the entire hullabaloo. I only go to this place whenever there are church activities or other programs where it is usually jam-packed with people; which is why I took this photo where the place is free from all the swarming of the busy-bees. Tranquil and silent.

During the FGD itself, I was astounded with the responses of the Muslim parents. When asked how they regard Catholics, one of them said, “I have high regard for Catholics because it is better to worship a different God than worship no God at all.”

That’s JOY again wearing her irrefutably captivating smile right after she was asked her full name for the registration. She is my favorite because hearing her name prompts me that there is really something that we should be happy about every day no matter how life gives us hell.  

Unlike other fora, our FGD was partaken by both male and female. Actually, even the gays are well-represented because there was one gay guy who attended the dialogue. Not to mention, he was fashionably late so he stormed in the room wearing spaghetti straps but nobody seemed to mind. I love how open-minded people are nowadays. 

Introducing: CLAYZAH, a vivacious young lady who really stood out among the rest. She is garrulous bordering to infuriating but I am a very tolerant person so I just put up with it. I love this photo of her because it reminds me of the book LOLITA. Clayzah is one of those outgoing young lasses who manage to stun people with her effortless unambiguous charisma. 

I really hope that the Communication Department of our school will consider continuing the service-learning activities. The way I see it, it is an unceasing give-and-take process.