I'm tagging myself with this survey that I found in some LJ's:
20 Random Things About Me:
1. Recently, getting text messages has been pissing me off.
2. I like entering contests in magazines and newspapers to win a prize. Haha, in fact, I just did. Don't be surprised if a really embarrassing picture of me appears in a national daily (blockmates, I think you've seen this one! Hahaha!). *slap* Hahahaha!
3. I am on a diet. (Yeah, yeah.)
4. My pet rabbit kills me each time he washes his ears. *dies because of cuteness*
5. I love kicking, as in Taekwondo and Taeboxing.
6. One of these days, I want to kick someone's ass. Just give me a reason.
7. I think I give good, hard advice.
8. I am hiding; I don't want to see or talk to anybody right now.
9. I think I love the name "Henry" now. No, it's not someone I know. I just love the name. Say it! Go on.. See what I mean?
10. I am very confused right now: my decision regarding what track I should take changes on a daily basis.
11. My math teacher in high school said that "Bernice is a reflective person" in my college recommendation. Whatever that meant.
12. I have discovered a couple of books that may rightfully be placed in my list of Top 10 favorite books. Please understand if I want to hold on to them and read them over and over, without letting anybody else know exactly what they are, let alone borrow them.
13. A couple of hours without drinking water would render me dead.
14. I hate group works; they make me resort to social loafing. And lower grades, if you'll excuse my arrogance.
15. I can will and pray a crush away, not to mention "delete."
16. When I was a kid, I had my very own radio station and hosted a "theory show." All in my imagination, of course.
17. I regret a lot of things I didn't do.
18. I may not be into hugs that much, but I love hugs from little kids.
19. M.ura.kami and I had the same words worked out. Astig.
20. I want a second chance.
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So, can these things be considered as truly random? When taken into context, the answer is of course! My blockmates and I could be involved in a very serious discussion about the implications of Ga.spar A.quin.o de Be.len's Pas.yon on conversion and colonialism when I suddenly blurt out #4. That would be random...like saying #11 during a Ha.rry P.otter fangirling session. See?
If you're not convinced about my ideas on randomness, let me share a particularly random moment that happened one Com100 class, not too long ago. Mr. And.rew T.y was currently hosting "The And.rew T.y Show" in front, spouting some stuff about who-the-heck-remembers-what, when my hand suddenly shot up.
"Yes?" the host asked, somewhat nonplussed. An audience member suddenly grabbing the microphone seemed a novel idea to him.
"Sir, we'd like to present," an equally confused me answered, staring back at the startled audience members who had quickly turned their backs on the host to gaze at me with amusement. Stifling a laugh that was threatening to steal the show even more, I silently asked myself: How the heck could my hand be fiddling with a piece of paper one moment and suddenly shooting up the next?
Of course, my request was rejected in favor of a long monologue.
How could I forget?
Acts of randomness are forbidden in the Land of Dew.ranty.
_fiercely free
8:52:00 PM
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Holding Hard
I think I was too much in a hurry to get away; I wanted to be rid of all the trappings the whole thing had to offer.
In my hurry, I think I left a part of myself back there.
And it pains me to think that someone still sees me as that long lost part, just a faulty fragment of who I am today.
Because I have changed. I am different now. I left that part of me behind, that trembling self who wasted so much, a long time ago.
But what frightens me now is the thought that maybe, I'm still back there.
Maybe I never left at all.
_fiercely free
9:47:00 PM
Monday, October 24, 2005
Orange you glad my hair's black?
I want to change my hair, but I don't know how. Is this quiz giving me a good idea?
| Your Hair Should Be Orange |
Expressive, deep, and one of a kind.
You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices. |
Oooh, hardly anyone notices, huh? I find that hard to believe.
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Wala lang: I love it when Al.ex Kap.ranos says that he likes something. I swear, that guy should write a novel. I'd be the first in line at the bookstore if he ever gets one published, but come to think of it, he'd better fly in here and give me a free signed copy! Right before he and the rest of Fra.nz Ferdi.nand perform in a concert live in the Phil.ippines, a concert that I will thoroughly enjoy, for I have access backstage. Wow. It'd be great if that happens.
I'd like that very much.
_fiercely free
9:55:00 PM
Sunday, October 23, 2005
New Layout! Still working on life, though.
NEW LAYOUT!!!
I edited the original layout from blogskins and turned the whole thing into a C.al.vin and H.ob.bes layout! I overdid the design a bit, so it looks kind of crowded, but I still love love love Ca.lvi.n and Ho.bb.es!
I took this quiz:
Which Calvin and Hobbes Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
And I ended up as Ho.bbes, which supposedly means that I'm "...smart, clever, and funny...can be a bit self-centered at times, but... a very faithful friend." Cool. I thought I'd get Susie, with whom I wholeheartedly agree on this: "Sometimes I think books are the only friends worth having."
But Hobbes makes some pretty good points, too.
_fiercely free
4:30:00 PM
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Oh, the joy of a good book!
What am I doing?
It is midday and I am sitting on the toilet, crying. My breath comes in short gasps as my glasses fill up with the heavy drops from my eyes. I am crying, not the tear or two that have to be squeezed out of the corner of my eyes, but a steady stream of tears running down my face, punctuated by actual sobs of sorrow.
I am crying for characters that don't exist, characters with a love that I cannot know. It dawns on me as I remove my glasses, the lenses sprayed and wet like a windshield during a storm, that I am still sitting here. With this porcelain throne of sorts, clutching words that squeeze my heart, I am like the queen weeping over the state of her once prosperous kingdom. Or perhaps she is holding on to old letters from the young prince who never arrived, never came to be her king.
The letters are letters of promises, poems of longing, and words of the future. The edges are worn thin; the queen is careful as she cradles these letters, whose pages she has folded and unfolded a thousand times in the past. Even as the pages threaten to tear each time she takes them out, the queen still clasps these yellowed letters and hears seductive whispers and jubilant shouts in every rustle of paper, reading promises about her future. Among such lovely words, she spots the dried blossoms of ink that have spread on some pages, a reminder that yes, these are just words, and her tears cannot bring them to life. But still, she weeps.
And I am still crying on the toilet, of all places, because I do not want anybody to see this. I pull myself together and splash some water on my face. As I look at my tired eyes in the bathroom mirror, they stare back at me, unblinking even as tears stubbornly cling to every lash. The sorrow in my gaze hardens into formality. It tells me, coolly and distantly, after all, the queen still has a kingdom to run, doesn't she?
And so do I.
_fiercely free
9:20:00 PM
