This is it.

10:30. An hour and a half before midnight. Before April 10. Before I officially turn a year older.

Sixteen. Imagine. I'm not sure if that's great or terrible but what I am sure about is that it's coming. I am now savoring the last minutes of being fifteen (I love being fifteen!).

These days are the most eventful and craziest so far in my short life. For one, I'd already celebrated my birthday last Thursday: three days earlier (first with my friends then with my family). Then my mom and I flew to Manila. Okay. Let me explain. I have this summer seminar to attend (Ateneo Junior Summer Seminar or AJSS. I have no idea how the hell I got in because you know, the exams were so hard and all, and in an ordered universe I would never have been able to join This. Sadly, a second big bang must have occurred and the universe was reorganized). So my two months of vacation were all gone, replaced by five weeks of classes that are supposed to give us a taste of college life. Now is that cool or scary? You decide.

I think it's scary. First day is the scariest part. I mean, it's like being in a whole new school again, surrounded by strangers and not a familiar face in sight and you're just alone and friendless and homesick. I'm all nerves now. I'm going to hyperventilate. Hopefully I would get past all that.

So these past couple of days, my mom and I had been in the mall for hours on end, shopping and window-shopping, cherishing the last days of freedom and nearly dropping dead from exhaustion. Because tomorrow, as I turn sixteen, I also have to go to the dorm. Already. I have been dreading that moment for weeks!

Scared. Terrified. Jittery. On the verge of breaking down. Needing serious medical attention now.

And excited too. Exhilarated. After all, it will be a whole new experience. A whole new adventure.

Not a bad way to spend your summer. Not really.

The Legend Comes Alive

3 Reasons I love Meg Cabot:
1. she writes great books. And not just cold, mindless chick lit, but chick lit with sense and meaning and heart.
2. she promotes girl power. Her heroines are never damsels-in-distress; instead, they save the day.
3. she wrote Avalon High.

Avalon High is the best book I've read from Meg Cabot so far. And please, don't associate this with that Disney movie of the same title - even if it was loosely (very, very loosely) based on the novel - because the movie changed almost everything: the plot, the characters, even the protagonist's name. I mean, that is why movies can never be as good as the books they're based on: they spoil everything.

Okay. Going back to the book. I finished it today and it was awesome. The protagonist is Ellie, who moves to Annapolis because of her professor parents' sabbatical (a year-long vacation professors take every seven years or so). Her new school is the typical high school with jocks and cheerleaders and all. But she soon realizes that not everything is what it seems because everything seems eerily like...the history/legend of King Arthur repeating itself and Ellie and her friends may or may not be reincarnations of those famous people from hundreds of years ago.

It seems all far-fetched and ridiculous, but the way it's written, and the characters make it pretty believable and realistic. And if you had thought the Arthurian legends boring (I did, when we were studying it in class), read this and you'd get a whole new perspective. Cabot melds history, romance, drama, fantasy, and humor in one juicy, satisfying novel.

Wish there was a series. Wish movies do stick to the original. And wish I can spend my whole summer escaping to the world of Meg Cabot.

The Golden Post

My 50th post! Okay, I know others have made hundreds of posts already in the course of the school year. They'd probably think celebrating your 50th post is just so lame. Well, for me, it's not. It's a milestone, an achievement. And I also realized that I've made 5 blog posts in one night! Yes, it's lame, I know. But these past three months, I've been really lazy in blogging. For January, I had one post. For February, two posts. So now I'm making up for it. This summer, I'll continue blogging (promise to self) because it's a big help in expressing your thoughts and discovering more about yourself.

The Days Are Numbered.

I don't really get this cartoon. But it just reminds me that damn, it's exams next week. Yesterday, Friday, I was hit with so many realizations. Friday was the last day of regular classes. The last day of sanity before exams. Four more days of school (three for exams and one for recognition day) and third year life is done and over with. My days as a junior are numbered. I was so excited the other week that summer was coming but now that the end is drawing nearer and nearer I'm wishing it wouldn't be so fast. I would miss life as a third year student and I can't say it was the best school year ever, but it was a turning point for me, a memorable, amazing experience. It's scary that in two months, I would be in fourth year. Scary that by next year, I would be in college. How cruel time is.

I love/hate puppies.

See these adorable photos? They were the first batch of our poodle's puppies. Sadly, two of them were either sold or given away and the third one is with us (Nutella, or Ella for short. I didn't name her, believe me). Right now, we have the second batch of puppies. I don't have pictures of them but they look exactly like the first batch. You know. Just this week, one puppy was given to my sister's best friend, another was to a teacher, and the last awaits judgement.

Why am I talking about puppies? I mean, I wanted those puppies gone. They're cute and all, but they're not once they scatter poop around the house. So really, I was glad of the prospect to get rid of them. But I still couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness when I watched them given away.They were being separated from each other. Permanently. Forever. Right now, it's sad seeing the last puppy looking desperate for playmates and so lonely because her sisters were all taken away from her. How tragic is that?

Be Inspired.

Who said words are boring? Here are some great lines from a few songs. Words speak louder than pictures indeed.

We Filipinos Are Mild Sleepers

It is a truth universally acknowledged that every Filipino must always take a nap in the afternoons. It has been a tradition passed on from our Spanish forefathers, and we are reminded of lolos and lolas brandishing sticks to spank disobedient children who would much rather play. Even in this modern world, Filipinos still find time to nap. People go to work, children go to school, and don't they all have this instinctive urge to curl up when the clock strikes one?

Not I, though. My parents are strict followers of this age-old tradition, so you might expect me to love napping. Think again. I absoulutely HATE sleeping in the afternoon. I think it's a complete waste of time.

I remember when I was a litle kid, during summer, our helpers (my parents were at work) would roll out a folding bed in the living room and we (my sisters and I) would obediently lie down and sleep until dusk. Our yayas were scary so we couldn't really complain. But I was hard-headed. I was lying there, eyes closed, and passing away the time in non-sleeping. I obstinately refused to sleep (or maybe it was insomnia?). Pretty boring, actually. So I would just listen to our yayas' conversation (interesting), sing songs in my head, hold my breath and see how long I can do it, daydream, replay movies in my head and stories I've read, counting the seconds passing by. All with my eyes closed.

When we got a little older, naps were in our bedroom and our yayas didn't need to watch over us any longer. I got more freedom. Once my sisters fall asleep, I would take the book I had tucked under my pillow and bask in the glorious freedom of reading for hours. Of course, I listened for footsteps and when I heard them I would immediately hide the book and assume the most contorted sleeping position and pretend to be dead asleep, complete with mouth half-open, long deep breaths, closed eyes unflickering, and no matter how long they watched, I didn't move (when I did, I acted like I was dreaming, complete with lips smacking. A bit of drool is welcome). I was skilled in deception.

If there was an Oscar award for Best Actress In Pretending To Be Asleep, I would win it. And believe me, I never got caught. The yayas totally fell for it.

Now I was in high school and went home at six and slept at midnight, naps were certainly out of the question. During weekends we are still required to nap in the afternoons, but I would say how I have this important thing to do or something. The last time I fell asleep in the afternoon I had a terrible nightmare that scared me for weeks. See why I hate napping? Wonder why Filipinos love it.

I hate it, but I could use a good amount of sleep now. I'm afraid I'm turning into a sleep-deprived drone. But that doesn't mean I'm going to start napping from now on.

Ode To Studying

My mind is in motion

Filled with emotion.

I am struck with the notion

That my life is in erosion

So I must tread with caution

And think of a solution.

Note: Wrote this when I was supposed to be studying for some test and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. So the above is ridiculous and very emo-ish. Never mind. At least I won't go mad like this:

Or this:

Taken

Have you ever dreamed of traveling all over the world? I've certainly did. I've always dreamed that one day, I'll be going places, heaving a backpack (or not), and having the adventure of a lifetime. More than that, I've always wanted to travel SOLO. Yeah. I want to experience being lost in a whole, new place, alone to discover and feel new sensations. But I recently found that traveling solo is not so nice as it seems.

All because of the movie Taken. My family and I watched that on Saturday night. At first I thought it was just some ordinary action flick with big guns and loads of special effects. But papa insisted that we must definitely watch this film before we do any traveling. And he was right.

The movie was very thought-provoking. It showed a very widespread problem in the world today: human trafficking. Imagine arriving in the country you've always wanted to visit (say, France) and then poof, you get kidnapped and drugged and made into a prostitute. Seriously. It was terrible. The women in the movie looked so lifeless, numb, and zombie-like, that for a moment the bubble of my dream was popped. I didn't know traveling could be so dangerous, especially when you're a woman.

I like how the story turned out, though. I really admire the father, a former spy, who did everything and more to search for his daughter. He had guts. It was pretty cool, though there were lots of violent scenes. Most of the film was shot in France and it showed the bad sides, so it's pretty scary because I wanted to go there too someday.

So now, what to do? Did that movie just kill my dream? Apparently not. Instead, it made me realize the dangers of traveling solo and gave me loads of advice. For one, I should really learn self-defense before I travel. Then I should definitely: be in my right senses. Be alert. Never share taxi rides wih complete strangers. Don't give too much information. Be cautious. Have some fighting moves up your sleeve. Consider everyone a suspect.

Okay. Now I'm suddenly paranoid. But hey, what's the harm? Better be safe than sorry. And where's the fun in life when you don't take risks? I don't want to jump into danger, but to tell the truth, traveling just got spicier. You decide in what way.

World Nutella Day!

Nutella lovers unite for one day! This holiday was started in 2007, to celebrate the deliciousness of the melt-in-the-mouth, diabetes-inducing (if taken in excess, that is. I think.), undying chocolate hazelnut spread. It's awesome someone thought of this. It's awesome I came across this. Too bad I don't have nutella right now.

So, in honor of this holiday, I'll just blog about it and reminisce about happy times with it. As nutelladay.com says, "Nutella is more than just a 'chocolaty hazelnut spread,' it is a way of life."
:))
For more details and recipes and fun ideas, check out http://www.nutelladay.com/.

Corrected By

If there is one thing I like about looking through old notebooks and books, it's seeing all those "corrected by's." Weird, but true. It's like walking down memory lane when I see the names of people there.

I'll go, "Hey, she used to be my seatmate!"; "This girl was very annoying"; "I used to ask for food from this girl!"; "Best seatmate!"; "I remember how this girl did this and yadda yadda...". It goes on forever.

I'd remember those people who were around me, from first year to right now. It is very interesting to see the handwritings, how they've changed or not over the last three years. It's like seeing how people evolved. It's like having your own personal scrapbook or slambook, with the signatures of countless schoolmates. Now how cool is that?

Although now it seems like I'm a huge fan of "corrected by's" already, I must confess that I'm not really someone who does it. I mean, I don't write my name when checking. I'm just like, whatever. Check it and you're done. Why waste your ink over it? But now I realize the importance. You immortalize a part of yourself, even if it is just your name.

Too bad if your classmate throws away her notebooks. Which, unfortunately, happens all the time.