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The bachelorette wants her Bachelor.
The first time I opened the maroon leather-bound book, I felt as if Reality, with a heavy iron-laden fist, just punched me in the face. Then in the gut. I think it left my nose bleeding for a while.
Andee and I spent a good part of our morning at the library, looking through several Creative Writing undergraduate theses to give us an idea on how to begin our critical essays. While our list of possible sources and related literature is yet to be completed, another cause of panic came by in the form of a presentation of the introduction for our essays on Friday. In a mad scramble for sources, I downloaded every related article I could possibly get from the literary journals I found online at the library (thank the literary gods for UP's access to Project Muse!) - which left me at a loss with where to start, and even how. Andee and I figured that at least, by looking at how previous CW undergrads did their work, we could probably get a head start on our own as well.
And what an ignition that was.
I opened the first page and there it was, sprawled out for my eyes to see: the words "In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing." Goosebumps on my cheeks, through my neck and down my back. All I could think of was, I can't believe this is almost happening. I leafed through the pages of the thesis one by one, and as I saw for myself the letter of affirmation from the adviser, the table of contents, the abstract, for a moment I felt a sense of hesitation, then fear, and finally excitement. This is it. We are so close. Soon, I shall have my own collection of essays encased in a divine maroon cover, with my name emblazoned in gold letters. Shivers. I felt reality knocking me out pretty heavily.
I can still feel blood dripping down my nose. Is this how you taste like, Senioritis?
-- Labels: CW, UP
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The heavens are on my side.
I was supposed to go to UP extra early today because I was to research at the library for related literature I could use for my thesis' critical introductory paper. On mornings like this (when I really need to do something despite my exhaustion and/or laziness) I usually go on auto-pilot, with my feet automatically being dragged to the kitchen, toasting my bread or getting my peanut butter or whatever, reaching for the remote of the TV to keep me awake, and pulling out a jug of water from the fridge. By the time I've taken a bite out of my freshly prepared peanut-butter toast, I noticed my cellphone vibrating from underneath my pillow and figured it might be my mother calling. Turns out, it was the merciful gods of scholarly endeavors giving me the thing I needed the most.
(Actually, it was really just Ria, and a couple of other friends doing the text brigade.)
I've almost forgotten the feeling of anticipating for a suspension of classes ever since college began - DepEd and PAGASA announcements no longer excite me like they once did the moment I stepped into "the real world" (aka the world after high school) and felt for myself the prejudice against the most stressed-out members of the student population. Never mind that we do not have the advantage of school buses or Dad's car, never mind that we have books and photocopied readings to protect and prioritize under our umbrellas, never mind that the universities we now go to turn into a soggy, flooded, gloomy microcosm of the sorry state of the entire metro - no. We are older, we are wiser. We are mature enough to brave the storms of Finals week, hell, we should be able to wade through the literal ones too. (I guess this is the part where we decry our so-called independence, huh? "We're not waterproof!" is the battle cry.)
But today, something short of a miracle occurred, and with gray skies still looming, it's safe to say that today, Friday, 24th of June, students from the University of the Philippines are licensed to borrow a line from Maroon 5 and never, ever leave their beds.
It's a very welcome feeling, this legitimate staying-under-the-covers feeling. Despite the overwhelming sense of superiority brought upon by one's personal choice to cut classes because of sloth, there's still nothing more relieving than staying in bed because you really don't have to. The weight of a resolved mind is nothing compared to the lightness of a guilt-free conscience.
Also, for the last couple of days I've been feeling awful thanks to colds, cough, and headache. I'm guessing they're all caused by the abrupt changes in temperature coupled by the stress due in large part to academics which severely aggravated the colds, cough, and headache all the more. It's a vicious cycle. I kinda need this break.
So in short, I am still under a sea of bed covers, with my stuffed elephant by my side and box of tissue on the other. I should be doing something productive now, I really should. But the library is two jeepney rides away, and my head is conveniently parked on this pillow. The rain is still pouring heavily outside and there is no way I can leave the dorm without getting any part of my body drenched. My body (and ultimately, the universe) has decided - I guess I'm not going anywhere today. Thank you, heavens.
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Papa's girl
All the little girls - In the eyes of their fathers - will never grow up.
-- Labels: An attempt at poetry, happy father's day
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Senior citizen.
Since yesterday afternoon, I have been officially enrolled as a college senior.
That sentence has a lot of weight. Just saying it out loud (and/or typing it down) sounds so surreal - not just because I still cannot wrap my head around the idea that I am already in my fourth year, but also because before I was able to finally get my Form 5 and consider myself an eligible student for the incoming semester, I had to wait in line for hours, panic about what subjects to choose, lose patience over the system, walk back and forth between very hot and humid buildings despite heavy rainfall, use my charms to the highest (and most desperate) extent, and beg and almost sell my kidney for a slot - just so I could complete the fifteen units I needed. And all this while having an acid reflux. Talk about stressful.
This week was yet another proof that it takes both luck AND ingenuity to survive enrollment in UP - and everything else, actually.
School starts next week. I am in denial. Labels: UP
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Progress.
The last time he ever wrote about her was right after their last– was at a friend's– before their fifth– when she was drunk and he wasn't– it was during– or was it after?– he wrote of her cheeks, no, her wrists—
It was a long time since he last wrote about her.
-- Labels: fiction, finger exercises
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Summer, part 6: The happiest place on earth.
 It's not unusual to hear people say they've given up on fairy tales. In fact, count me in on that statistic. I'm nineteen - hell, I've been rejected, I've cried myself to sleep, I've clung on to Jeff Buckley's Last Goodbye, I've been through what I'd like to call "life's ceremonial jade-ing." I've long believed that fairy tales do not happen, and for the most part, do not exist, really.
Most people must be guilty of using the word "Disney" as an insult. In our course, anyone who chooses the "Disney" version of Little Mermaid would probably be considered a disgrace. If you still see Prince Charming as your proverbial life hero, your bookshelf (and life) must lack variety. Clearly, you haven't gone out to read tragedies, let alone experience them. Which is a shame. Because there is more to life than the Disney perspective.
But see, it's through the rose-colored glasses of Disney that I first saw life outside the four walls of my home. It was Mickey and the gang that showed me that things will always be okay when you have a great (and diverse!) set of friends. It was Snow White's seven dwarfs that introduced me to the different types of people you can meet, it was Ariel's friends under the sea that opened my eyes to new worlds that I could never have imagined on my own. It was Mary Poppins inside my head when I refused to tae an awfully disgusting antibiotic, and it was Belle's love for books that sealed my fate as a reader. For all their flight and fancy, the Disney movies that I saw growing up were all instrumental in making me realize that your world doesn't have to be confined within what you know - some stories may not be real, they may be imaginary and all in your head, but there's nothing wrong with that. And sometimes, it's even the most unreal that speak volumes about what really is.
I no longer wish for fairy tales. But I forever owe Walt Disney my love for stories and the art of telling them. Just having to step into a place where magic happens was enough to make me feel grateful for all the tales he's woven into our lives.
P.S. I look so dark in this picture, I cannot even- (finish this sentence properly.) My friends, proof that this year, summer happened. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 5: Anilao
The high school barkada outing we have been planning for years finally, finally happened. (We have no "group name" we just refer to ourselves as "Friends" - which isn't exactly wrong, really, but isn't unique either. Oh well.) With a little luck and help from the universe (aka my parents) we were able to find a location at the very last minute and before you know it, we were off to Anilao.
The barkada wasn't complete, and we won't be any time soon because Inna is in Canada already. It's such a shame that we weren't able to do this while she was here - mostly we just hang around each other's houses, watching lame-ass movies, eating chips, gossiping about batchmates - the usual. The funny thing is we were okay with it. We were never the kind of friends who went out to swanky restaurants or shopped together - we were fine just lazing around on someone's bedroom or Trixie's pool. It was the company that mattered, not the venue. But I guess this summer we figured it was about time we grew up and ventured someplace else. After all, we were almost twenty years old! We needed a proper outing. Thankfully, majority of us managed to pull some strings and take some time off - and this happened.
And so this was that. It probably was the most fun we've ever had in a long while. Doesn't it amaze you how with high school friends, the amount of time or distance that separates you will never get in the way of you guys reconnecting? It was as if we were back where we left off four years ago, in St. Paul, wearing our checkered skirts. A lot has changed, and yet it felt like nothing did - it was a comforting kind of sameness just being with them again.
The biggest most exciting part of the trip was our sudden decision to go scuba diving. It was the first time for all of us and we were really, really excited. It was a good thing we had more than enough money with us to accommodate the additional expense, but something tells me that we'd be more than glad to save up for it again next time - we were hooked, really.
It was just a twenty to thirty-minute dive for each of us but it was probably the most beautiful half hour I've had in a while. Just to see marine life in their natural habitat was truly humbling - if this was what we had under our shores, how come we never really appreciate it? A beautiful pink and purple fish passed by in front of me, and I thought to myself, there are so many things in the world I have yet to see and yet to know - I can't wait to discover more of them.
It was such a shame that we weren't able to bring a proper underwater camera (the camera used for the scuba shots were the resort owner's) - I would have loved to share all that I've seen with you guys. But I guess you'd have to experience it for yourself then :)
Me having a very "P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney" moment. This was definitely one of my most memorable experiences ever - something I can cross off my bucket list. I'm looking forward to scuba diving again, but more than that I can't wait to do it again with Friends. :)
Labels: friends, summer
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Summer, part 4: The wild side.
 Our Striptease Aerobics class had our "mini-recital" on the last day of summer classes. For about three to four days, we mashed up our routines and choreographed our steps for our group presentations, with our polos in hand and hair cascading down our shoulders. It wasn't exactly an R-18 kind of show, of course, but let's just say it was sexy enough to raise the temperature with our hips swaying in tune to a trusty R&B gapang song. :>
But seriously, it really was the best, most empowering PE class I've ever taken - the last time I've felt this confident about myself was about ten pounds ago. I wouldn't mind taking this again and again, even if I didn't have to. The best part was convincing myself that I could pull off puta red lipstick, after all! - just not for everyday purposes, though. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 3: Bataan
 I went with Mommy's officemates at BOI during their outing at Bagac, Bataan last May 6. It was my first snorkeling experience and it really affirmed my love with the water. I was the only girl in the group that decided to snorkel (the rest just stayed at the beach) and several of the young boys in the group, who were the sons of mom's officemates, thought I was a high school junior! Imagine that. I think they still don't believe I'm turning twenty this year. They cried bluff when I told them so. I, of course, take that as a compliment. Ha! I got a hold of a blue starfish and it was beautiful - it was the first time I ever saw a starfish in its natural habitat. (No worries, I returned the starfish safely to its home.) This was me having a pretty Misty moment. I was almost tempted to challenge someone for the Cerulean City badge - almost. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 2: At the checkered flag.
<![CDATA[<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLXgaN7LyTGFfl8bxqcfm_v1EG9Len2mcVx84EB0WV_HlK157wy3Oy1Cahpm_fRJNvpw2FZMc5_Vy7K2vN3yK61hFKLJsg4PikCatl7sh2DprjOBLm9Obn1em85P_ACfVTpGe/s1600/race.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLXgaN7LyTGFfl8bxqcfm_v1EG9Len2mcVx84EB0WV_HlK157wy3Oy1Cahpm_fRJNvpw2FZMc5_Vy7K2vN3yK61hFKLJsg4PikCatl7sh2DprjOBLm9Obn1em85P_ACfVTpGe/s400/race.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613124252721179410" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The Boyfriend was part of the team of five that the College of Engineering had chosen from the Mechanical Eng'g department to represent the school in the Bosch Power Tools Cordless Race Asia last May 15. They were to build a go-kart from scratch using six of the Bosch cordless tools as the main engine. For about two months, their team had been busy designing and creating the entire thing by themselves, with professors only supervising them as they went along. The days and nights were long and grueling for them - no summer classes and no girlfriend dates allowed for the most part. But it paid off. Definitely, definitely paid off.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Rainier was not the driver, but he was in charge of the controls and in fact, designed one of the vital parts of their car. On a surprise late-night Starbucks date along Katipunan, he tried explaining the blueprint of the automotive with drawings on a tissue but my feeble mind, capable only of understanding Donne's metaphorical conceit and Shklovksky's defamiliarization, not mechanics, could only open my mouth and nod my head in awe. Not fully comprehending the ideas, but appreciating them nonetheless, I felt proud, not only because I knew they would win, but just the fact that they made a car from scratch at nineteen - that's definitely something.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/teamupme">The UP ME DrillDrivers</a> are now one of the two representatives of the Philippines for the Bosch Cordless Race in Beijing this September (the other being Mapua) after qualifying in the Philippine leg of the race. The black car with the yellow stripes - that's the <i>Aura1</i>, the DrillDrivers' baby (and official girlfriend for the last two months, haha.)</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One little trivia: Among the eight schools that competed, only the UP team had participants who were not fifth year students/graduating students last April. The DrillDrivers are all juniors/incoming seniors. They beat six other teams for the top two spot. <i>(insert UP pride here)</i></div>]]>Labels: summer
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Summer, part 1: Of math, men, and milk teas.
For about a third of my college barkada (yes we have a huuuge group; we exponentially increased the summer after freshman year), summer meant having to drag ourselves out the bed every morning for not-very-exciting-subjects-we-have-to-get-over-with. Yes, it's self-inflicted pain caused by our urgent desire to graduate on time, but it still doesn't take away the fact that We. Go. To. School. During. The. Summer. And. It. Still. Sort. Of. Sucks. But it's our daily lunches (and afternoon snacks) together that make everything less dreadful.
Shoutout to my "summer buddies" Mark, Jas, and Adrian, all of whom have Math/Physics and PE, like me. For most of our four weeks together they've filled their guts with fat and oil courtesy of the much-loved Beach House. (Yes, just them, since I've brought with me canned goods for lunch every single day.) You know you've found friends you can grow old with when you can spend three straight afternoons just being vain around two huge letters of the alphabet representing your school. Or when you can imagine an entire civilization with instead of call centers you have bike centers generating electricity and a prison where criminals are being tickled to death. We've talked about our funerals (a barkada mausoleum with life-sized statues!), our futures (Mark gets the weird kids) and even Tekken characters and their history (my friends are obsessed so I had to know who Lilli was and what a ghost battle meant), and yet we still never ran out of things to say.
 On some days, several of our other friends would join us in the afternoon, meeting up at our newest favorite tambayan somewhere near Maginhawa, that quaint little teashop called Moonleaf, and again we would laugh about our cringe-worthy pasts, uncertain presents, and idealized futures - this time, over wintermelon milk tea and pearls - like there's just no time and no place else to talk about them but right then and there. It was always a riot, and it was never a bore - this was what we truly needed. I missed these kinds of genuine dates, the kind that had us all under the same roof with all our stories and worries and joys and pains, the kind that made me feel sad about the Katipunan jeep finally arriving when it's time to come home. Labels: summer
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The bachelorette wants her Bachelor.
The first time I opened the maroon leather-bound book, I felt as if Reality, with a heavy iron-laden fist, just punched me in the face. Then in the gut. I think it left my nose bleeding for a while.
Andee and I spent a good part of our morning at the library, looking through several Creative Writing undergraduate theses to give us an idea on how to begin our critical essays. While our list of possible sources and related literature is yet to be completed, another cause of panic came by in the form of a presentation of the introduction for our essays on Friday. In a mad scramble for sources, I downloaded every related article I could possibly get from the literary journals I found online at the library (thank the literary gods for UP's access to Project Muse!) - which left me at a loss with where to start, and even how. Andee and I figured that at least, by looking at how previous CW undergrads did their work, we could probably get a head start on our own as well.
And what an ignition that was.
I opened the first page and there it was, sprawled out for my eyes to see: the words "In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing." Goosebumps on my cheeks, through my neck and down my back. All I could think of was, I can't believe this is almost happening. I leafed through the pages of the thesis one by one, and as I saw for myself the letter of affirmation from the adviser, the table of contents, the abstract, for a moment I felt a sense of hesitation, then fear, and finally excitement. This is it. We are so close. Soon, I shall have my own collection of essays encased in a divine maroon cover, with my name emblazoned in gold letters. Shivers. I felt reality knocking me out pretty heavily.
I can still feel blood dripping down my nose. Is this how you taste like, Senioritis?
-- Labels: CW, UP
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The heavens are on my side.
I was supposed to go to UP extra early today because I was to research at the library for related literature I could use for my thesis' critical introductory paper. On mornings like this (when I really need to do something despite my exhaustion and/or laziness) I usually go on auto-pilot, with my feet automatically being dragged to the kitchen, toasting my bread or getting my peanut butter or whatever, reaching for the remote of the TV to keep me awake, and pulling out a jug of water from the fridge. By the time I've taken a bite out of my freshly prepared peanut-butter toast, I noticed my cellphone vibrating from underneath my pillow and figured it might be my mother calling. Turns out, it was the merciful gods of scholarly endeavors giving me the thing I needed the most.
(Actually, it was really just Ria, and a couple of other friends doing the text brigade.)
I've almost forgotten the feeling of anticipating for a suspension of classes ever since college began - DepEd and PAGASA announcements no longer excite me like they once did the moment I stepped into "the real world" (aka the world after high school) and felt for myself the prejudice against the most stressed-out members of the student population. Never mind that we do not have the advantage of school buses or Dad's car, never mind that we have books and photocopied readings to protect and prioritize under our umbrellas, never mind that the universities we now go to turn into a soggy, flooded, gloomy microcosm of the sorry state of the entire metro - no. We are older, we are wiser. We are mature enough to brave the storms of Finals week, hell, we should be able to wade through the literal ones too. (I guess this is the part where we decry our so-called independence, huh? "We're not waterproof!" is the battle cry.)
But today, something short of a miracle occurred, and with gray skies still looming, it's safe to say that today, Friday, 24th of June, students from the University of the Philippines are licensed to borrow a line from Maroon 5 and never, ever leave their beds.
It's a very welcome feeling, this legitimate staying-under-the-covers feeling. Despite the overwhelming sense of superiority brought upon by one's personal choice to cut classes because of sloth, there's still nothing more relieving than staying in bed because you really don't have to. The weight of a resolved mind is nothing compared to the lightness of a guilt-free conscience.
Also, for the last couple of days I've been feeling awful thanks to colds, cough, and headache. I'm guessing they're all caused by the abrupt changes in temperature coupled by the stress due in large part to academics which severely aggravated the colds, cough, and headache all the more. It's a vicious cycle. I kinda need this break.
So in short, I am still under a sea of bed covers, with my stuffed elephant by my side and box of tissue on the other. I should be doing something productive now, I really should. But the library is two jeepney rides away, and my head is conveniently parked on this pillow. The rain is still pouring heavily outside and there is no way I can leave the dorm without getting any part of my body drenched. My body (and ultimately, the universe) has decided - I guess I'm not going anywhere today. Thank you, heavens.
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Papa's girl
All the little girls - In the eyes of their fathers - will never grow up.
-- Labels: An attempt at poetry, happy father's day
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Senior citizen.
Since yesterday afternoon, I have been officially enrolled as a college senior.
That sentence has a lot of weight. Just saying it out loud (and/or typing it down) sounds so surreal - not just because I still cannot wrap my head around the idea that I am already in my fourth year, but also because before I was able to finally get my Form 5 and consider myself an eligible student for the incoming semester, I had to wait in line for hours, panic about what subjects to choose, lose patience over the system, walk back and forth between very hot and humid buildings despite heavy rainfall, use my charms to the highest (and most desperate) extent, and beg and almost sell my kidney for a slot - just so I could complete the fifteen units I needed. And all this while having an acid reflux. Talk about stressful.
This week was yet another proof that it takes both luck AND ingenuity to survive enrollment in UP - and everything else, actually.
School starts next week. I am in denial. Labels: UP
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Progress.
The last time he ever wrote about her was right after their last– was at a friend's– before their fifth– when she was drunk and he wasn't– it was during– or was it after?– he wrote of her cheeks, no, her wrists—
It was a long time since he last wrote about her.
-- Labels: fiction, finger exercises
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Summer, part 6: The happiest place on earth.
It's not unusual to hear people say they've given up on fairy tales. In fact, count me in on that statistic. I'm nineteen - hell, I've been rejected, I've cried myself to sleep, I've clung on to Jeff Buckley's Last Goodbye, I've been through what I'd like to call "life's ceremonial jade-ing." I've long believed that fairy tales do not happen, and for the most part, do not exist, really.
Most people must be guilty of using the word "Disney" as an insult. In our course, anyone who chooses the "Disney" version of Little Mermaid would probably be considered a disgrace. If you still see Prince Charming as your proverbial life hero, your bookshelf (and life) must lack variety. Clearly, you haven't gone out to read tragedies, let alone experience them. Which is a shame. Because there is more to life than the Disney perspective.
But see, it's through the rose-colored glasses of Disney that I first saw life outside the four walls of my home. It was Mickey and the gang that showed me that things will always be okay when you have a great (and diverse!) set of friends. It was Snow White's seven dwarfs that introduced me to the different types of people you can meet, it was Ariel's friends under the sea that opened my eyes to new worlds that I could never have imagined on my own. It was Mary Poppins inside my head when I refused to tae an awfully disgusting antibiotic, and it was Belle's love for books that sealed my fate as a reader. For all their flight and fancy, the Disney movies that I saw growing up were all instrumental in making me realize that your world doesn't have to be confined within what you know - some stories may not be real, they may be imaginary and all in your head, but there's nothing wrong with that. And sometimes, it's even the most unreal that speak volumes about what really is.
I no longer wish for fairy tales. But I forever owe Walt Disney my love for stories and the art of telling them. Just having to step into a place where magic happens was enough to make me feel grateful for all the tales he's woven into our lives.
P.S. I look so dark in this picture, I cannot even- (finish this sentence properly.) My friends, proof that this year, summer happened. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 5: Anilao
The high school barkada outing we have been planning for years finally, finally happened. (We have no "group name" we just refer to ourselves as "Friends" - which isn't exactly wrong, really, but isn't unique either. Oh well.) With a little luck and help from the universe (aka my parents) we were able to find a location at the very last minute and before you know it, we were off to Anilao.
The barkada wasn't complete, and we won't be any time soon because Inna is in Canada already. It's such a shame that we weren't able to do this while she was here - mostly we just hang around each other's houses, watching lame-ass movies, eating chips, gossiping about batchmates - the usual. The funny thing is we were okay with it. We were never the kind of friends who went out to swanky restaurants or shopped together - we were fine just lazing around on someone's bedroom or Trixie's pool. It was the company that mattered, not the venue. But I guess this summer we figured it was about time we grew up and ventured someplace else. After all, we were almost twenty years old! We needed a proper outing. Thankfully, majority of us managed to pull some strings and take some time off - and this happened.
And so this was that. It probably was the most fun we've ever had in a long while. Doesn't it amaze you how with high school friends, the amount of time or distance that separates you will never get in the way of you guys reconnecting? It was as if we were back where we left off four years ago, in St. Paul, wearing our checkered skirts. A lot has changed, and yet it felt like nothing did - it was a comforting kind of sameness just being with them again.
The biggest most exciting part of the trip was our sudden decision to go scuba diving. It was the first time for all of us and we were really, really excited. It was a good thing we had more than enough money with us to accommodate the additional expense, but something tells me that we'd be more than glad to save up for it again next time - we were hooked, really.
It was just a twenty to thirty-minute dive for each of us but it was probably the most beautiful half hour I've had in a while. Just to see marine life in their natural habitat was truly humbling - if this was what we had under our shores, how come we never really appreciate it? A beautiful pink and purple fish passed by in front of me, and I thought to myself, there are so many things in the world I have yet to see and yet to know - I can't wait to discover more of them.
It was such a shame that we weren't able to bring a proper underwater camera (the camera used for the scuba shots were the resort owner's) - I would have loved to share all that I've seen with you guys. But I guess you'd have to experience it for yourself then :)
Me having a very "P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney" moment. This was definitely one of my most memorable experiences ever - something I can cross off my bucket list. I'm looking forward to scuba diving again, but more than that I can't wait to do it again with Friends. :)
Labels: friends, summer
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Summer, part 4: The wild side.
Our Striptease Aerobics class had our "mini-recital" on the last day of summer classes. For about three to four days, we mashed up our routines and choreographed our steps for our group presentations, with our polos in hand and hair cascading down our shoulders. It wasn't exactly an R-18 kind of show, of course, but let's just say it was sexy enough to raise the temperature with our hips swaying in tune to a trusty R&B gapang song. :>
But seriously, it really was the best, most empowering PE class I've ever taken - the last time I've felt this confident about myself was about ten pounds ago. I wouldn't mind taking this again and again, even if I didn't have to. The best part was convincing myself that I could pull off puta red lipstick, after all! - just not for everyday purposes, though. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 3: Bataan
I went with Mommy's officemates at BOI during their outing at Bagac, Bataan last May 6. It was my first snorkeling experience and it really affirmed my love with the water. I was the only girl in the group that decided to snorkel (the rest just stayed at the beach) and several of the young boys in the group, who were the sons of mom's officemates, thought I was a high school junior! Imagine that. I think they still don't believe I'm turning twenty this year. They cried bluff when I told them so. I, of course, take that as a compliment. Ha! I got a hold of a blue starfish and it was beautiful - it was the first time I ever saw a starfish in its natural habitat. (No worries, I returned the starfish safely to its home.) This was me having a pretty Misty moment. I was almost tempted to challenge someone for the Cerulean City badge - almost. Labels: summer
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Summer, part 2: At the checkered flag.
<![CDATA[<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLXgaN7LyTGFfl8bxqcfm_v1EG9Len2mcVx84EB0WV_HlK157wy3Oy1Cahpm_fRJNvpw2FZMc5_Vy7K2vN3yK61hFKLJsg4PikCatl7sh2DprjOBLm9Obn1em85P_ACfVTpGe/s1600/race.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLXgaN7LyTGFfl8bxqcfm_v1EG9Len2mcVx84EB0WV_HlK157wy3Oy1Cahpm_fRJNvpw2FZMc5_Vy7K2vN3yK61hFKLJsg4PikCatl7sh2DprjOBLm9Obn1em85P_ACfVTpGe/s400/race.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613124252721179410" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">The Boyfriend was part of the team of five that the College of Engineering had chosen from the Mechanical Eng'g department to represent the school in the Bosch Power Tools Cordless Race Asia last May 15. They were to build a go-kart from scratch using six of the Bosch cordless tools as the main engine. For about two months, their team had been busy designing and creating the entire thing by themselves, with professors only supervising them as they went along. The days and nights were long and grueling for them - no summer classes and no girlfriend dates allowed for the most part. But it paid off. Definitely, definitely paid off.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Rainier was not the driver, but he was in charge of the controls and in fact, designed one of the vital parts of their car. On a surprise late-night Starbucks date along Katipunan, he tried explaining the blueprint of the automotive with drawings on a tissue but my feeble mind, capable only of understanding Donne's metaphorical conceit and Shklovksky's defamiliarization, not mechanics, could only open my mouth and nod my head in awe. Not fully comprehending the ideas, but appreciating them nonetheless, I felt proud, not only because I knew they would win, but just the fact that they made a car from scratch at nineteen - that's definitely something.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/teamupme">The UP ME DrillDrivers</a> are now one of the two representatives of the Philippines for the Bosch Cordless Race in Beijing this September (the other being Mapua) after qualifying in the Philippine leg of the race. The black car with the yellow stripes - that's the <i>Aura1</i>, the DrillDrivers' baby (and official girlfriend for the last two months, haha.)</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One little trivia: Among the eight schools that competed, only the UP team had participants who were not fifth year students/graduating students last April. The DrillDrivers are all juniors/incoming seniors. They beat six other teams for the top two spot. <i>(insert UP pride here)</i></div>]]>Labels: summer
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Summer, part 1: Of math, men, and milk teas.
For about a third of my college barkada (yes we have a huuuge group; we exponentially increased the summer after freshman year), summer meant having to drag ourselves out the bed every morning for not-very-exciting-subjects-we-have-to-get-over-with. Yes, it's self-inflicted pain caused by our urgent desire to graduate on time, but it still doesn't take away the fact that We. Go. To. School. During. The. Summer. And. It. Still. Sort. Of. Sucks. But it's our daily lunches (and afternoon snacks) together that make everything less dreadful.
Shoutout to my "summer buddies" Mark, Jas, and Adrian, all of whom have Math/Physics and PE, like me. For most of our four weeks together they've filled their guts with fat and oil courtesy of the much-loved Beach House. (Yes, just them, since I've brought with me canned goods for lunch every single day.) You know you've found friends you can grow old with when you can spend three straight afternoons just being vain around two huge letters of the alphabet representing your school. Or when you can imagine an entire civilization with instead of call centers you have bike centers generating electricity and a prison where criminals are being tickled to death. We've talked about our funerals (a barkada mausoleum with life-sized statues!), our futures (Mark gets the weird kids) and even Tekken characters and their history (my friends are obsessed so I had to know who Lilli was and what a ghost battle meant), and yet we still never ran out of things to say.
On some days, several of our other friends would join us in the afternoon, meeting up at our newest favorite tambayan somewhere near Maginhawa, that quaint little teashop called Moonleaf, and again we would laugh about our cringe-worthy pasts, uncertain presents, and idealized futures - this time, over wintermelon milk tea and pearls - like there's just no time and no place else to talk about them but right then and there. It was always a riot, and it was never a bore - this was what we truly needed. I missed these kinds of genuine dates, the kind that had us all under the same roof with all our stories and worries and joys and pains, the kind that made me feel sad about the Katipunan jeep finally arriving when it's time to come home. Labels: summer
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She's a modern lover; it's an exploration, she's made of outer space
Hello, I'm Karla Bernardo. If you Google my name, you will find the Wikipedia entry of a Canadian serial-killer (and trust me, you do not want
to read about that - but I'm sure you will because now you're curious), which is why I suggest you type Bombastarr instead so you can stalk me better.
I spent eight-and-a-half years of my life in the University of the Philippines, where I graduated with degrees in Creative Writing and Juris Doctor. It is also where I learned how to speak a bit of Italian, got a taste of the best tapsilog, and took striptease for PE.
I love telling stories, as much as I enjoy finding them.
<![CDATA[<center><font style="color: #ffffff;">____</font>Want <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/09096636074047764491">more</a>?</center><br>]]>
Featured Works
Stargirl ( Cover story for Nadine Lustre, Scout, January-February 2017)
Surreal / So Real (at Scout)
Ode to a Great Love's 17-year-old Self ( Love.Life, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Postcard from Diliman
( Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Writer for Philippine Law Register
A Call to Arms (January 2017)
Expecting the Expected (March 2016)
Former Writer for Stache Magazine
The Hero's Journey (June 2013)
The 8 People You Become In Your Youth (June 2013)
The Best Bad Idea That Is Argo (April 2013)
Mike Ross Remembers Everything You Don't (August 2012)
Style Between the Riffs (August 2012)
Book Lovers Never Sleep Alone (June 2012)
A Spectrum of Change (December 2011)
Digital Art (October 2011)
Elements of Style (June 2011)
In Her White Dress (All-Art April 2011 issue)
Morning After Pill ( Fervore: Literary Folio 2013, UP Portia Sorority)
How To Make a Blueberry Cheesecake ( Kalas: Kalasag Literary Folio 2011, UP College of Arts and Letters)
January 14th ( 100: The Hundreds Project, UP Writer's Club)
An Ode to The
Pillow Book (at New-Slang)
Introductions (at TeenInk)
One by One (at TeenInk)
Ask, and you shall be answered
Got a comment, question, violent reaction, love letter, or random piece of information you want to share with me? Just fire away. I don't bite.
(I changed my form and went back to Freedback because Ask.fm's being a bitch, requiring people to sign up for accounts before asking questions. Because I love you guys, I tweaked my ask box a bit, so that the questions will now go directly to my e-mail, but I'll be posting the answers still on my Ask.fm for convenience. TL;DR - I'll still be getting your questions so no worries. You're still free to harass me / send me your love.)
Answers
Most Frequently Asked QuestionAre you a pornstar?No, I am not a pornstar, stripper, or your friendly neighborhood call girl. It's just a fancy pseudonym with a long history, and two R's. Rawr.
Bombastarr.com
Bombastarr is my personal blog and my little corner in the Internet since 2005. Yes, I started writing here when I was 13 years old (aka when I was very angsty, hormonal, and always gushing at the littlest things) -- ergo, you'd have to forgive me if you come across an old post that reeks of immaturity and slightly unpolished grammar. I did a lot of growing up here, and from the looks of it, there's still a lot of growing up to do, so I don't think I'll be leaving this place any time soon.
The domain, Bombastarr.com, was purchased on June 2014 and
launched on July 2014, on the blog's ninth year (and fifth month, to be exact).
It's crazy to think that this blog is now thirteen years old, because (1) that seems like an eternity in internet years, and (2) that means if my blog were a kid, it's a teenager! That's insane.
Here's to more tales, explosive and otherwise.
So, why Bombastarr?
If you've been living under a rock and think I'm a threat to world peace or an object of covetousness, sorry to disappoint you, folks: it's just a fancy pseudonym.
As in most things, it started in high school. It began as a joke between me and a couple of friends during our freshman year. We were practicing for a field demonstration dance which involved the use of shawls, and being the crazy-always-trying-to-be-funny person that I was (or I always attempted to be) I started doing poses with the garment. Someone started taking my picture using my phone, and one shot looked like I was posing for those B-list movies (or should it be R-list, as in R-rated?) of the vegetable-nomenclature variety. #IKYWIM. Hence, the word, "Bombastarr." Yes, very cheeky, I know, but for a 13-year-old, it was quirky enough to figure as a username. That was 2005, right around the time I trying to decide on a URL for a new blog. It's been a lot of years since, and what started as a joke became something I've eventually embraced as an identity.
Despite the many other chances I've gotten to permanently move (to Multiply, Livejournal, Tumblr, Wordpress; to a bigger platform where I can earn or use the blog as a venue for commerce), I've come to realize that Bombastarr is something I can never truly leave behind. It is a place I've grown to appreciate and love because it is a place I can call my own. It's a venue for my rants, my views, my writing. It is home, and it is who I am.
Bombastarr is a glimpse of my life: the thoughts, ideas, and stories that shape it into what it is, and what it will still become. This journal has been with me for all my crazy, often embarrassing adventures, but I'm sure there will be more anecdotes and feelings and people to write about. Which is something I'm really looking forward to. After all, you know what they say about the greatest stories - sometimes, there's still a lot that's left unwritten.
Credits and thank you's
This blog is hosted by PhilHosting.net, and powered by Blogger. The layout is coded entirely by me.
Photo hosting: TinyPic, Photobucket
Question box: EmailMeForm, Ask.fm
Copyright © BOMBASTARR
Elsewhere, she wanders
<![CDATA[
<a href="http://twitter.com/thebombastarr" border="0" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y234/bombastarr/twitter1.png"></a> ]]>
@karlabernardo
Friends, links & affiliates
<![CDATA[
<h1>Links & Affiliates</h1><div class="blogbody">
<a href="http://maryofthewild.com/" target="_blank">Ayiene Silvestre</a><br>
<a href="http://biancabiancita.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bianca Cabillar</a><br>
<a href="http://latenightepisodes.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Cars Pascual</a><br>
<a href="http://ceejaedelrosario.tumblr.com" target="_blank">Ceejae Del Rosario</a><br>
<a href="http://inipitadventures.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Daryll Santillan</a><br>
<a href="http://mirelasestrellas.blogspot.com/" target=_"blank">Eura Yuste</a><br>
<a href="http://kissingfriday.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Gyk Icmat</a><br>
<a href="http://imyouronlyhope.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Hope Velasco</a><br>
<a href="http://deathcabforkitty.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kaisa Aquino</a><br>
<a href="http://vain-aholic.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Maye Dellosa</a><br>
<a href="http://thedramaholic.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Ninin Sampiano</a><br>
<a href="http://speakinginwords.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Patrick Santiano</a><br>
<a href="http://walledplayground.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Paula Deveraturda</a><br>
<a href="http://thebestdamnconstellation.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Regine Aurellano</a><br>
<a href="http://arceecola.blogspot.com" target="_blank">Rose Basa</a><br>
<a href="http://spencetheknight.wordpress.com" target="_blank">Spence the Knight</a><br><br></div>
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I went with Mommy's officemates at BOI during their outing at Bagac, Bataan last May 6. It was my first snorkeling experience and it really affirmed my love with the water. I was the only girl in the group that decided to snorkel (the rest just stayed at the beach) and several of the young boys in the group, who were the sons of mom's officemates, thought I was a high school junior! Imagine that. I think they still don't believe I'm turning twenty this year. They cried bluff when I told them so. I, of course, take that as a compliment. Ha!
