People who smack you in the head

My high school friends Gema and Kat

In total remorse for the last five months. I knew something was wrong with me because I didn't want to see any of my friends or professors. I just denied it. I didnt want to see their faces, talk to them nor text them when they asked me how I was doing. I was in paranoia, depression and early stage psychosis probably, and I felt so ashamed of my condition I didn't want to go outside our house. I just wanted to stay in the comforts of my bedroom, watch Eat Bulaga with my dad and eat and eat and eat.

The best friend: Gema

The can't-wait'togo-to-Japan friend: Kat

My teacher best friend: Brine

By the end of July something dawned on me: I have tons of friends, professors who never stopped supporting me and I felt no remorse when I hated them all. But they never left.

My elementary friends: Brine and Myvi

After I've decided that I will apply for a residency for the first semester, no one asked the "why" question. They simply hugged me tight and smacked me where the hell was I five months ago. I told them I needed to elevate my state of love life and so I went looking for a boyfriend. They laughed. We ate. We shared stories. They understood my condition. We gobbled our friend's molasses cookies. It was like a year of heaven for me.

College Friends: Amy, Mikee, Lakan, Lisette, Shaula, Mylene

I reunited with my elementary and high school friends. We ate the same food. I gave them letters and loom bands. They kissed and hugged me tight and fully supported my decision to take the residency. My friend Gema didn't stop talking and kept on asking for directions at UP. It was like nothing happened at all.

Sometimes it's all in our minds. We can never move on until we give ourselves a chance, unless we forgive ourselves. Never mind what the people will say. Friends will smack you in the head because you disappeared without their permission. They will slap you because you already have a love life while they don't. They will hug you until you can't breathe because they've missed you. They will kiss you because they've missed you, just as you missed them after all.

He who is the mime is the wimp

Don't justify your foolishness by trying to be like everybody else.

Fine. Everyone calls you a freak, a moron, a wimpy kid. They are those people the same age as you are, and you actually believe and submit to them. First prinicple says nobody really knows you but yourself. And as Greg Heffley's (Zachary Gordon) mom had said, "Your choices define who you are."

Apparently for wimpy kid Greg, he chose to let the people around him define him. Just like the rest of the innocent majority, he conditioned himself to gain entitlement and popularity. And so the petty but serious aspiration to fit in led little Greg to finally realize he ddidn't have to be a mime to be happy.

The comic movie Diary of a Wimpy Kid (directed by Thor Freudenthal) highlighted how friendship evolves in middle school, and especially how it is greatly affected when friends itch for entitlement issues at the same time. It became very hard for Greg to stand out, as his husky, innocent friend Rowley (Robert Capron) didn't quite get any logic from trying to be the school's favorite. Greg had to teach him how to be cool and not look childish, not quite realizing that his mission to change his best friend was for his own good.

I liked Rowley's character the most, for he represented the guy who didn't care what others thought. He simply showed who he was, even though it was silly and immature to others. He showed he could be happy even without the majority's approval of his nature. It's simply because he didn't let them define him; he defined himself.

Greg, on the other hand, never gained popularity, nor found his comfort zone in middle school. Wrsetling, theater, patrol watch--he literally joined everything just to fit in to the crowd he'd deemed gods. So much for political popularity; he even lost his best friend along the way. And he had justified his weakness by trying to be a mime.

School may seriously be a hellhole, a death sentence and a Jigsaw trap. But it's not because of the bullies, the monstrous teachers and the pressure to be popular; it's because you chose it to be that way.

I'm not a mime. I'm not them.

They act like mimes. They always agree because everybody does. They believe the same fallacy. They stick together, and they all get the same karma.


I began to imagine how high school life may be comparative to the life of both a schizophrenic and an idealistic dreamer-- with a magnified world of clashing emotions, overstated whims and overpowering influences. Here lies the awful puberty stage where mini cold wars exist and peer pressure takes its toll, adapting the quote, "One for all, all for one".

Somehow it has been very hard to be the ugly duckling, as everyone urges you to be mimes like them. With the disturbing evolution of the term "high school" to "political arena", everyone pushes you to study and stroll and eat and pee with your friends all the time. As if you're each other's oxygen tanks and you can't seriously breathe and survive without them.


But then I remembered Woody (Tom Hanks) in Toy Story 3. He gave up his friends. He gave up the strong relationship. He gave up the seemingly comfortable zone meant for toys like him to be played with forever. But he never gave up on Andy. He never gave up his belief, while the rest selfishly sought for their temporary havens.

I then realized it shouldn't take friends or the majority's universal belief to change what I believe in. Woody had his own. He knew where he was meant to be and cared less if he would be left alone.


Who are they anyway? Who are they to manipulate someone like a doll, saying he should join their group and believe anyone who's not like them is a stupid abnormal outcast. Somehow this may be an irrational notion in the BFF rule book, but then at the end of the day, who's still the mime?

When dad says "It's hard to be alone"

You know why you knew the Beatles: because of your dad

One more reason for me to shout "ET Phone Home!" right after classes.


It would be 7:59pm, a good 10 minutes earlier because my classmates tweaked the clock for quick departure. I actually appreciate it, and everybody could be a witness I would be faster than light when I leave the room and go home.


I never felt mentally comforted by the classroom atmosphere, with all the girls' noise sounding like they were being raped or kidnapped. 

My dad, for the first time wearing a New Year hat

Even sometimes I would hate to go to school earlier than usual because my dad would always say, "Ang hirap kasi kapag ako lang ang kumakain mag-isa eh."


I would always consider myself lucky when it comes to family because I have a 58-year-old dad who still cooks breakfast for us. I remembered my twin sister Jillian telling me dad had been counting the days when I'd have to go to school earlier. He had said:


"Ayan dalawang araw na lang tapos na training ni Je. Tapos sabay-sabay ulit tayo kakain ng lunch sa bahay."


There are three things I would miss about my dad:


1. His special fried rice. Since mom had found a job, dad would often cook breakfast for us with his lip-smacking fried rice, sometimes cooked in adobo sauce or with scrambled eggs. Anything that was left from last night's dinner he manages to "recycle" by cooking it with rice. He would always say food is a blessing, and not many people have the good fortune to eat three times a day.

2. His fondness with Eat Bulaga's Pinoy Henyo. It would be about 1pm and we would always join him during weekends to watch and laugh at the "stupid" Pinoy Henyo contestants trying to guess the word "nunal". Dad would always make us laugh at his reenactments of the game. He would say:


Dad: Pinapahula microwave oven. Sabi ng nanghuhula, 
"Microwave?" 
"Oo!" 
"Oven?"
"Oo!"
       Tanga kasi hindi pa pinagsama yung microwave at oven. Naubos tuloy yung oras hindi rin nakuha yung tamang sagot.


Dad: Ang word "fork". Sabi ng contestant,
        "Tinidor?!"
        "OO!!!"
        "Kustara?"
        "Hindi!"
        "Kubyertos ba to?!"
         "Oo nga!"
        Ayun isa pang bobo hindi pa ginawang English yung tinidor napalayo pa tuloy.


Dad: May isa pang bobo nagtanong,
         "Tao ba to?!"
          "Hindi!"
          "Lugar to?!"
           "Oo!"
           "Artista? Sa GMA 7?!"
          Grabe lugar na pala ang artista ngayon.

The Beatles

3. His undying devotion for The Beatles. He would always boast he had bought the original CD's of the Beatles and invite us to watch their concerts in CD's during weekends. He would explain to us the meaning of every song they composed. 


Dad has influenced me to like very old songs (aside from Ms. Josephine Bonsol who would often sing 1940's songs during our classes). He would also often listen to Bread and David Gates, Lionel Richie, Michael Learns to Rock, and watch Bee Gees, Eric Clapton and Don McClean concerts.

Bee Gees

I hate to think I would cry for a lot of things when the people I deem responsible for who I am right now would be long gone. 


But then Jigsaw (Saw series) and Morrie Schwartz (Tuesdays with Morrie) once said emotions should not be involved in doing or fulfilling something because they are deceiving. 


Ms. Josephine Bonsol told me truly loving someone does not involve emotions anymore, only actions of pure love. Once I also thought it might be better not to meet friends and love families so I won't feel hurt in the end. But then I would've not learned anything and not valued more important things.


So in the end at least there would always be someone worth remembering and stories with them worth sharing.

When the past is buried in chocolate chips and mallows

I never wished to bring dead memories back to life.


Apparently, Goldilocks brought me back to both bitter and sweet memories with its  DOUBLE DUTCH ROLL. My ever-audacious sister Ate Nadine surprised us with another mouth-watering treat the day after I practically woke the rest of the household that midnight, when I saw our names on the online list of UPCAT passers (also my twin sister Jillian).


Ate Nadine even thought we were visited by robbers and akyat-bahay gangs because of my rare wild screams.

As I munched on the chocolate chips and the equally choco-coated marshmallows hidden at the core of the delectable sponge cake, I bitterly remembered how my crush back in Grade 6 used to give me packs of chocolate Kisses. Reminiscing all those tangible things he gave me made me ponder how stupid and naïve I was back then.


Surviving my high school days with "Flawless Unity" at the current decade, I've learned to be objective and indifferent enough with customary high school tensions namely peer pressure, puppy love and suicidal depression. I've also been taught by Ms. Josephine Bonsol to stop being like everybody else, and instead look for the things unseen and the questions neglected by many.


Until then, I'm looking forward to taste another of Goldilocks' sweet cake creations in the coming days, and without much social stress after finally being emancipated from high school politics and anxieties and zombie-like routines.

http://www.goldilocks.com.ph/products/bakeshop/cake-rolls/37/page/2

Check out www.goldilocks.com.ph for more heavenly and delightful cakes we certainly all have a memory with.


You can also register to keep updates with the latest of Goldilocks' innovations at http://www.goldilocks.com.ph/join

Rescued for the nth time

Somehow I consider 2011--and any New Year--as a personal redemption.


Before this year ended, I would always shout under my breath that I'm nearly over those intolerable school projects and the 1:30-bedtime routines and the intoxicating dull classroom days.


And finally, I'm only a jeepney away from escaping high school! How I've always wished a time machine to be invented so I could quickly get past those four dreadful years. I'm only three months away from mentally getting over peer pressure, adrenaline-stimulated depression and zombie-driven hours of homework and lessons.


But then I'd also be pleased enough to realize that such cherished moments, out-of-classroom trips, minutes with older and smarter people, and those horrible embarrassments would all remain as MEMORIES, NEVER TO HAPPEN AGAIN.


I believe this truly defines what every event, incident, accident and phenomenon is all about: they will never happen more than once. That's the best part and the one thing I would somehow always thank for.

To my mentor Ms. Josephine Bonsol, who've shared more knowledge to me than what a teacher can ever teach to a student. Thank you for being my nanay.


Thank you to Gemma for always being there and for understanding my eccentric behavior. And also to Cedric for frequently updating me and always sitting beside me to share a talk.


I'm finally saved from the year that was, and for the nth time. All I can pray for is that things this year will turn out for the better, and will either start or end for the best. God bless 2011.

MOVIE ON STORM: Gossip, lies and info broadcast on wildfire at Easy A

Sometimes helping others won't help yourself in return.

We must admit it: high school is more likely to be the most scandalous stage we can even get through in life. Rewriting our once-clean reputations, I observed, would abruptly evolve into proudly having a bunch of girlfriends/boyfriends, fans clubs and a flock of BFFs only to be well-known for its constant fall down of members because of sickening squabbles.

Others may say high school is their death sentence: zero social network, struggles in studies, occasional black eyes, unwanted visitors after classes and total isolation might be their nightmares.

They say sometimes in life, helping others is the surest way to help yourself. But for Olive Penderghast the Easy A, it was a complete irony.

THE LIE: I JUST LOST MY V-CARD

Olive is an anonymous high school student unfortunately tortured by the big fat lie she made up of losing her virginity (yep, that's the V-card) to a completely nonexistent college freshman, eventually leading her to be famous for being a "super slut".

The lies pile up after she told it to her best friend Rhiannon, then heard by a Jesus-freak schoolmate and the gossip suddenly spread like wildfire. And we must all agree her peer pressure towards her so-called BFF started it all.

To some extent, peers and "close friends" aren't really true comrades. I've seen girl and boy orgs in my class crumble into 2-5 members all because of secrets, pride, jealousy and senseless misunderstandings. I've also been taught to not take real social networking seriously, because these faces I see today will all be gone in the end, and won't really help me mold my future. It's all because the truth is, true friends should not really be at our side forever.

Olive and her BFF Rhiannon: "I worry about how information circulates in our school."

THE GOSSIP: FASTER THAN THE SPEED OF LIGHT

I must say gossip is right next to love in making the world go round. Say your secret in the lavatory and the rest of the school disgustingly stares at you the moment you open the door. As Olive had described it, her "terminological inexactitude" traveled at an "accelerated velocity", the common knowledge about gossip we already shouldn't be surprised about.

And it's actually true; we even believe in and harvest gossips more rather than find out and analyze if our national hero was really gay or not.

I remembered my Filipino teacher said, "Ang naniniwala sa sabi-sabi ay walang bait sa sarili." Believing in gossip, we were taught, is a crime against ourselves, because we would actually believe in lies we even don't want to evaluate or question.

THE INFO BROADCAST: EVOLUTION OF COMMUNICATION

What's worse about gossip, is it has an element of "dagdag-bawas". And this is the truth about communication: Ms. Gossip Girl rumors about her BFF having a new boyfriend, eavesdropping ears pile up, and the last person in line receives the wrong tweet that the BFF is already pregnant.

The warped information dissemination has evolved long before the Tabon Man era. Primitive people drew figures and symbols on walls and poked messages in bottles to communicate with each other, but then nobody really knew if they understood each other.

For Olive's already-indecent status, her identifier of losing her V-card outrageously evolved into spanking a classmate because of a nasty comment, and being a "dirty skank".

Olive's redemption: "Log on to www.FreeOlive.com to confirm if I'm really a super slut or not"

Of course, in the end, she was able to get out of her hellhole and haunted her downtrodden "clients" online, who measly paid her automotive GC's just so to tell the whole school she did "things" with them. Until then, learning from this movie, LET'S NOT SAY WE DID SOMETHING WE REALLY DIDN'T.

MONA LISA SMILE: Teachers of solicitude and apathy

Ask yourself: just how many teachers scold you to shut up and try to learn something from his/her class?



Or, just how many of them treat you like a son/daughter, as they would occasionally ask how are you holding up at school or at your chaotic home?



Have we ever asked ourselves, why EXACTLY, are my teachers (annoyingly like my mother) always have that long criticizing speech that spoils the rest of my adolescent life?



We have obviously forgotten that technically school is our orphanage home (in an educational way of course) and teachers are our stepmothers/fathers. That should mean they also want what's best for us students, and I do believe they would care less and quit scolding us and ruining their days if they don't actually care.

I have encountered many teachers always reprimanding me for not attending my classes and scolding me for irresponsibly catching up with missed activities (I was a member of the Extra Curricular Activities AWOL group). I should have felt really bad, but thankfully I was refined by my journalism teacher Ms. Josephine Bonsol to simply think the other way around, saying I should be grateful enough for such teachers because in the least they cared about my academics and even my future. If they didn't, they would've simply not cared.



I've also been aware of the two classifications of teachers, especially in public schools: the first group who ardently teach and hone and scold students to make them better citizens of the country, and the other one simply trying to show they teach, objectively because it's their job, period.



With this perspective in mind, I've learned to appreciate and idolize our so-called "verbal-abusing" but unquestionably virtuous teachers, thinking they are simply concerned about me, and any one of us for that matter. One teacher once said to me: "Boy, am I glad you're back in classes. Next time try not to miss activities just so to do something good for the school. Do something for yourselves and for your future." And that's just how lucky I am enough to have a lot of surrogate moms in school.



But then these days this youth generation tends to worship the culture of misunderstanding everything including teachers. The case of a student stabbing a teacher to death (who was simply scolding him to get a proper haircut) already proved it. I've also read first year hs students commenting they salute the boy and might have done the same thing.

Maybe it's because we students don't want to be dictated and be outsmarted by other people. We feel superior as if we know everything where in fact we always waste time gossiping about completely senseless topics on whereabouts of others, including teachers. It is but true of Padre Fernandez's notion of students backstabbing teachers; of course we can't say it out loud. (He was the good pastor in Rizal's El Filibusterismo)



Bad words? Insults? Embarrassing affronts like "Ang bobo mo!" or "Mag-drop-out ka na lang!" replaying in our ears, I was told, are meant for us students to be challenged, and to some extent, to fairly hate our teachers while we promise ourselves we will prove to them our worth.



Thinking they're bringing us down or making our high school days the worst in our lives simply makes us the ONES who drag ourselves down. I've been taught that life is what we make it, and if we put optimistic perspectives in everything we see and encounter everyday, we will definitely make ourselves a big favor.



For all the teachers who adopted me and scolded me for always going AWOL in class, THANK YOU!