If our ancestors could only see the country now, I bet they’ll all be rolling in their graves. Maybe they wouldn’t have fought as hard as they did if they knew that some hundred years later, all their effort would go unappreciated. Independence day came and went, and what do you have to show for it? A dog tag and a shirt from Ako Mismo event that, if we’re going to be honest here, you attended not for its cause, but for the bands that will be playing. “Independence” is no longer a word used to describe a country that is free to govern itself without unwanted influences from foreign nations, free to practice a culture, free to serve its native men. “Independence” is now a word a thirteen year old would use when demanding that she’d be allowed to go out with her friends whenever she wants.

Ah, the irony of life. The essential things in life loses its value to the ephemeral unimportant details.

It started when Ari Santiago mentioned something about a blog he used to keep years ago. That’s when the sudden urge to feel nostalgic hit me. I mentally rummaged through my perfectly imperfect memory for my old URLs from 3-5 years ago. Surprise, surprise. I remembered them.

Reading your old blogs, or old anything, for that matter, gives off such a wide array of feelings, don’t you think? There’s the initial embarrassment that you feel whenever you see a misspelled word or grammatically incorrect sentence. Then there’s pride when you realize how much you, and your vocabulary/diction, have developed. You might also feel awe when reveling in the thought of said change. Probably, more emotions will be present, but I’m not cheesy enough to mention those inspirational shiznit.

Speaking of inspirational, it’s funny how even the most mundane and dull of situations can turn into something worth while with a little twist of words, yes? Do you also often find yourself mentally narrating in third person whatever you’re doing rather ornately and in detail? What, you don’t? It is weird, then? Let’s stick to “because I’m a passionate writer” for an explanation behind said habit. Oh, bite me.

Sunday evening, I constantly reminded myself why I was in an almost-alien environment, seated on a sofa under the scrutiny of an old lady. I felt awkward. She wouldn’t stop blatantly staring at me with an expression that clearly read “who the hell are you?”. Fine, I lied. It doesn’t clearly read “who the hell are you?”. It was somewhere in between that and a blank expression. Regardless, it’s okay because I didn’t know her either, but I tried smiling anyway, in hopes that I’d get even a twitch of the lips in response. Nothing. Rien. Nada. Wala. Not even a infinitesimal change in her countenance. How comforting.

That, might I add, was the same night (and party) that for an hour or so, I talked to my we’re-in-the-same-age-group uncle (one I’ve never met before) and a girl I apparently have common acquaintances with without really registering what their names are. Mikey, was it? And… well, the girl was never formally introduced to me.

Honestly, I feel antisocial.

But these antisocial tendencies presented a lot of time for thinking, and I have been thinking, among other things. Lo & behold, I have officially been able to find the good enough middle ground between my dream self and reality. I have a semi-plan for my life now, which is supposed to be a good thing so I’d know what I’d have to do with my life. I am still an escapist, though, that much is obvious. I believe this condition has been slowly approaching the borderline between healthy and, well, not healthy. Maybe I’m in denial. With the other conversations I’ve shared with a few friends lately (ones wherein I had to give my two centavos worth quite often), I’ve been feeling like a shrink with psychological issues the size of France. Maybe it’s not normal after all.

Je suis là dans mon rêve.

France. French. Get it? Hahahaha. Hahahaa. Haaa. Shutting up now.

I realized that I no longer look at the number of comments or hits I have. It’s really all about the writing now. Just writing, writing, writing, without caring if anyone’s reading. I just want to write.

You know what else I don’t care about? What my sister has to say about French films.

I love French films. No matter what my sister says, I love French films.

I just watched Un Long Dimanche de Fiançailles (A Very Long Engagement) starring Audrey Tautou and, surprise!surprise, Gaspard Ulliel. It was good but I wish the ending were different. I like movies that kill off the protagonists. Heh. It’s just awesome how they’re willing to risk the audience’s good vote for the sake of remaining realistic. On a side note, the subtitles were incomplete so I had to replay some of the scenes to catch what they were saying, but I didn’t get it all.

This is another reason why I should revive my Française - so I could watch ‘em movies without subtitles! A damper was put on my poor excitement when I realized Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulain [English Title: Amélie] copy only has French and Portuguese subtitles so I can’t watch it yet. I must find copies of Gazon Maudit [French Twist], Delicatessen [Delicacies - literal translation], & La Belle et La Bete [The Beauty & The Beast] soon. With English subtitles! Really, since I’m sure I won’t be able to revive my French that quickly. It’s sad. The sound of the language is so pretty that I hate having to be distracted from it by reading those darn subtitles. I really should étude la langue française à nouveau. Did I get that right?

Le sigh. I love French films.

*insert cut here. kthxbai*

I’ve decided to finally put to good use that cute polka-dotted commonplace notebook my sister bought me last year. I’ve been scribbling word art of my favorite quotes lately. I’m going to buy some colored markers this weekend to use for writing my bucket list and happiness list. It’s more of a motivational notebook-slash-canvas for random thoughts that come to mind throughout my days. It sort of reminds me what I’m living for.

I guess what one lives for changes from time to time. Speaking of changes, talking to old friends had me realizing how much I’ve changed these past years. It’s not a 360-turn, sure, but those who know/knew me well could really tell the difference. My ultimate life goals haven’t changed, though, not since I was a little girl. It’s just how I live now, and maybe the life principles. Yeah, I suppose they are different. Ah, but nothing is constant but change, right?

I care not so much what I am to others as what I am to myself.
- Michel de Montaigne

It was my paternal grandfather’s birthday last wednesday. We had a simple dinner at my grandmum’s and we prayed for him. He’s been gone for almost three years now, and I still miss him. I suppose this never goes away.

Even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.  We can still do things.  And we can try to feel okay about them.

- Charlie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I’m still trying to figure out where to go from here. I’m supposed to choose my majors this school year, and to be perfectly honest, there isn’t a single course in my school that I actually *want* to be in. You see, I don’t really want to be in the business field, so it’s ironic that I’m enrolled in the top business school of the Philippines which was even dubbed as the AIM of undergrads. Alas, I don’t really have a choice now, do I? So I’d settle for what Charlie said - I’d do what I have to and try to feel okay about them. Maybe someday, when I’ve established a proper living, I could do what I really want to do.

For the time being, it seems highly unlikely that I end up being that girl I’ve always imagined myself being someday. Then again, ten years from now, looking back, I’d probably end up realizing that I’m not the person I thought I’d end up being as I think about it now. So what’s the use of worrying too much about a future that might not even happen?

But.

I’m torn between Carpe Diem and working towards my life goals. Decisions, decisions.

-insert cut here. kthxbai-

Surprise! Surprise! I’ve uploaded most of the pages. Just so you’d know, the pages are probably a better waste of time than these blog entries. These blog entries are erratic, anticlimactic, idiosyncratic, sporadic, slightly pragmatic, unsystematic, melodramatic, monochromatic, non-austroasiatic, semiautomatic(?) and every other -ic words I could think of. The pages are well, decent.

This lack of productivity is slowly turning me into a bowl of mushed peas. I’m not sure when I started becoming this slightly obnoxious over-achiever. Last time I checked, I was okay with lethargy, but now, all this idleness is annoying. I’ve been trying to pass my time wisely by reading, writing or searching for recipes I can try when classes start, but knowing that in all outward purposes, I am just sitting here in front of my laptop is enough to drive me up the wall.

Getting out of the house is no longer a leisure in my eyes. It’s a necessity now. Someone please save me.

I will not lie. I’ve been trying to delay writing my supposedly shocking “come-back” entry until I’ve thought of something that could actually shock, or at least amuse, you. I’ve thought about it well - from death to time to love to beans - but nothing came to me. After much consideration and deliberation, I’ve decided to blog normally. I don’t want to try too hard to sound all intellectual, so I’ll just write about whatever floats my boat. Instead of the thought-provoking, inspiring, whatever shiznit I intended, you get the cynical, subtly sarcastic, austere shiznit that I have to offer. Yay or nay? I don’t care. I will no longer blog like I used to, but this isn’t a conscious effort. I really just think, write and speak (not that that actually affects you) differently.

For the record - no, I haven’t updated the pages. I will get to that. Soon. Maybe. Someday.

With that aside, I welcome you to my blog - a collection of rambles of the aimless. Garnish with a piece of parsley and enjoy.

The notion of space excites me.

I like space. I like spacious places. I like spacious storage. It follows that I like my new external hard drive - a Western Digital Passport Essential 500gig. Yes, it isn’t as big as the 1ter desktop external hard drive, but it’s portable. I am excited. Really, I am. I have room for RAW shots and movies now!

On a side note, I was vaccinated today. It still hurts, which is rather weird. The disturbing swine flu epidemic just made my fifth trip to the land of the free (yes, USA) impossible. Curse you, virus, and all the trouble you entail. The tickets were non-refundable, by the way. We have to use the tickets before November else it’s “Adios, ticket money. We will never see you again.” This would mean that I will not be here in the Philippines, where most of my friends and family are, when I celebrate my coming-of-age birthday. Not that I was planning anything grand. Not that I can plan anything grand.

Since we’re already talking about the infamous almost-pandemic, I should go on and blab about what I know. As you all don’t know, my parents work in the health care industry so I’ve been given a bit of background on this Swine Flu virus (said lecture was given after they broke the aforementioned news) before most. From what I know (can remember), a lot of people are fearing that this would be the awaited pandemic of the generation. I’m guessing their basis would be alarmingly (?) fast speed and high mortality rate. I’ve read somewhere that it isn’t the virus per se that kills, but the body’s reaction to it. Since the virus (probably) mutates, the body doesn’t have inherent anti-bodies needed to fight off these intruders. As a feeble attempt at defense, the lungs swell and you die of organ failure.

I may have the wrong facts so you’re better off researching if you really want to know more. I’m guessing that although this is a big issue, the media’s probably blowing this just a tad out of proportion. Hey, maybe the rest of the world’s government also need distractions from their failures. I heard Egypt wants to slaughter all their piggies. They should just give those away to poorer countries; after all, the disease can’t be transferred from pig to human, right (which makes me wonder how that Mexican kid got it in the first place)? Or maybe they should feed those to the sharks, huh. Yeah, animal cruelty, hush. That gives their lives more purpose than if they were just slaughtered & burned. Lucky sharks, though. Well, truth be told, I’m thinking this is just some excuse to rid their countries of pigs, ’cause Egypt is a Muslim country, and don’t they see pigs as unclean or something?

Don’t take my word for all of this, though. I may or may not be credible.