Mozart · was · crazy · too, · you · know.

As I sit and type out this entry, the night is quiet, dry and windless outside. Further away, however, tragedy and despair continue to flood the already saturated streets of Luzon. Today's headline reads: RP in State of Calamity. Sitting down where I am, no hint of disaster nor grief is evident. It could very well be a normal night that has never heard of Ondoy or Pepeng. But it is not. And in two hours, I am going to turn twenty.

Now I'm not going to go back into the past and muse on how it seems only yesterday that I learned how to tie my shoelaces or that soon, I'll be holding my college diploma. Because I don't feel like pondering on my coming of age. This is a very, very wrong time to turn twenty. The world is groaning from over consumption, globalization and rape of the environment. Climate change and recession are the prices we are slowly and painfully paying for the mistakes we have committed throughout history and continue to hardheadedly and hopelessly commit today. The future is a swirling mass of dark gray and brown right now, like the flooded streets our people are still fighting through. It's scary. Any time, we could step into a manhole and fall into oblivion. The current is unpredictable and could carry us to who knows where. And turning a year older will just take me one step further into that churning torrent of the unknown.

After typing that previous paragraph, I pause, devoid of any continuation to that train of thought. I know I must salvage it somehow, turn it into clearer waters and a sunnier disposition. I know there is a silver lining here, somehow, I know. I must find it, and point it out. It is not out of a need to pacify my own soul, but out of a responsibility to hope. Because hope is a responsibility.

I guess I should deflate my previous refusal to ponder on turning twenty, because that's what I'll be doing right now. Twenty. I loathe the idea that I no longer have a good excuse for acting like a kid. I cringe when I imagine the greater expressions of surprise on people's faces when they find out that I am twenty yet I still look like a High School Student. I feel sad when I realize that the youngest child of Ed and Chloe Ramos is now on the verge of graduating, and possibly, moving away from home. But soon, I'm going to be earning my own money and supporting my family. I'm going to vote for our next president in a few months. Most of all, I realize that I have been alive and blessed for twenty years. To quote Ryan Roa (hehe): "Biruin mo, pinanganak ako". The recognition of this fact goes pop! my head, much like the first pop you hear when cooking popcorn in the microwave. Soon, you know, there will be a chorus of pops and the aroma of cooking butter.

Looking back on the events of the past week, I am reminded of a Joey Velasco painting. Joey Velasco is the painter of works that show Jesus in the most everyday Filipino settings and with the most ordinary characters- dining with a band of street children, hugging an old man, behind an imprisoned youth. He meant to tell his viewers that Jesus is everywhere- a truth that was proven right, rather than wrong, this week. Jesus was present in the likes of Muelmar Magallanes, who saved a baby and 30 other lives from the flood, before getting swept away by the current. I saw Jesus in the many Good Samaritans who opened the door of their homes to let strangers in. Jesus is in each and every one of those who graced the doorstep of a relief center, put clothes and canned goods in a plastic bag for the victims, or said a fervent prayer to God to deliver us. Who says that the Filipinos no longer have any hero to look up to? We have plenty.

In Jostein Gaarder's "the Solitaire Mystery", he writes of a magical island that crumbles from within. This picture used to strike me as quite odd, until I realized that our earth seems as if its eating itself alive, which sounds even more severe. I do know that in due time, this world is headed for someplace at breakneck speed, much like a bike with broken brakes careening downhill. I use the generic word someplace because I don't know what it is. But I'm not just waiting to die either.

There are things- lots of things- bigger and stronger than me- that I know I will never be able to fully comprehend, much less fix. Going veggie for the rest of my life and walking everywhere may not end global warming. My vote for Candidate A may be outnumbered by twenty more votes for Candidate B. I can boycott all the plastic straws I want and use silverware forever but the number of dumpsites in Metro Manila will remain the same. But I do know that I am not small nor weak enough to be insignificant. One person with the name of Mahatma Ghandi started the non-violent revolution in India. One dove brought back to Noah good news of dry land.  Even one durian in a public place can send tens of people away holding their breaths. Good grief- I AM MORE SIGNIFICANT THAN A DURIAN! And once again, the marvelous kuya Ryan reminds me "Biruin mo, pinanganak ka!" And the popping sound in the microwave increases to such a jubilant rucus and the whole house is explodes with butter-scented joy.

What was I thinking? This is a good time to turn twenty. This is the BEST TIME to turn twenty!

It is now 11:45. In my last fifteen minutes of being a teen, I pause again, this time not out of a need to salvage anything out of hopelessness, but out of a need to stop and marvel. At everything that has been done, is being done and will be done. And just as quickly as the nineteen years of my life have passed, I now find myself staring at a clock that says 11:53 a.m.

The air outside the house remains still. The schizophrenic weather seems to have gone to bed for the time being. And the floodwaters in my head have receded. I do hope that in real life, it will be like that soon. You know, quite possibly, among the homeless, bereaved and deprived, there is another girl out there who is turning twenty like me. I have nothing but prayers for her and I wish her all the faith and fortitude to get her through this ordeal. I wish I could lend her my clothes, sit her at our dining table, give her my bed. But all i can give her right now is my heart.

As I type up this last paragraph, it is now 12:02. I am now 20 years and 2 minutes old. A few minutes ago, Angeli gave me the best piece of advice ever about turning twenty: "Somehow, it feels right. You just learn to step into your own adult skin. And I think I will do just that.

Good night world. I will sleep now. But I will see you tomorrow.




***Happy birthday too to Victor Medina, Kiten Capili and Alejandro Consolacion. :)

i was walking through SM makati today on my way home. a little boy about 3 years old walking with his 5 year-old-ish sister and his mom walked past me. i looked at the little boy and he looked back at me with the wide-eyed innocence only a toddler can possess. we stared at each other, the little boy with his head turned, still struggling to keep up with his briskly walking mother, until i smiled and he grinned back. his older sister saw him looking back at me and she looked back too. then she exclaimed,

"nagtitingin ka nanaman ng chicks! mama o, nagchichicks nanaman siya!"

ok, can i just say that after today, unrestrained romantic emotions in today's youth now come as no surprise to me.

Even if I know you can't read, much less read this from wherever your lifeless body lies, I'm writing this for you anyway because someone as conceited as yourself would have wanted me to do this for you (hahaha.) Plus I think that for a special being like you, a proper send off is in order.

You came to me in junior High School, a shy little thing hiding in the corner of your previous owner's laundry room. When you were brought to our house, it took you a while to creep out into the open, but one stroke on your belly and you were lying down on our kitchen floor as if you had belonged to us since forever.

Life with you wasn't always perfect. Scratches (when you got tired of us petting you, or when I put my face too close to yours and said "kiss me."), mess all over (some of the worst I've seen in my lifetime), hair (and company... LIVE company if i may add), a rise in household expenditures due to your need for kitty litter, very expensive cat food and regular grooming appointments- these are only a few of the less-than-pretty implications of having a cat in the house. But just the members of a family bend for one another, we bended for you, and you were worth all the bending we had to do.

I never saw you as a cat. You may have coughed up hairballs. You may have been a permanent fixture under the table every time you smelled fish for dinner. You may have dug into your kitty litter to cover up your dirty work- typical cat action. But you were mostly human- the defiant look on your face every time you were scolded, the embarrassment in your quiet litter digging when one of us peeped in your room while you were doing your business, the way you would jump up beside me on the piano seat and press your face into my lap- mostly human, i tell you. And I don't think I will ever get a cat again. My parents hate cats, which is probably why we loved you not as a cat, but as a human. And no cat will ever be the same.

I will miss waking up every morning and immediately knowing that you have been in my room because my wastebasket is lying on its side. I will miss letting you out of your room in the middle of the night to keep me company, and then having to lure you back inside with milk. I will miss our camwhoring escapades in my room, where I am breaking 3 rules- 1. Do not let the cat in your room, 2. Do not let the cat on your bed and 3. Don't waste camera battery and memory. I will miss it when you get mad at me and then come slinking back to me when you're lonely. I miss you knocking on my door. I miss you covering your ears when I'm playing my flute. I miss your love-hate relationship with my dad. I miss it when you come home from the vet's, with no hair, groggy from the anesthesia- like a drunk rat. I miss you scaring and relieving us by getting really sick and then getting well again. That little act of yours has come to a finish, as most acts eventually come to.

I'm not too devastated actually, because when you gave me the scare of a lifetime last year by laying off the food and bodily functions, I really thought it was the end and I cried buckets of tears. Now it's more of a surprise- Me automatically saying "meow" when I enter the house, me panicking when the door is left open because I think you'll run out, me telling the dog to behave when he comes in because he might bother you. I get surprised when I remember that there's no one to meow to (I can try meowing to my mom but she'll find me crazy), no one to keep in the house, no one to keep from bothering. It's surprising how something as brief as four years can develop a bunch of habits in a person, the foundation of which is attachment to something. But then again, for years isn't exactly short. It's just as long as a High School life, and sometimes even longer than some relationships last.


You were truly a crazy cat and I'm honored to have been your mistress in your last life, of the nine which God gave you to live on. I know that wherever your hairball-coughing, sardine-loving, self-licking spirit is, there's a whole lot of milk and fish and all the male cats you were deprived of. Hahaha. I love you Willow!! Mwahmwahmwah.
 

Five days ago, i believed this cat to be dying. She didn't eat, drink, walk or go to the bathroom for four days. My friends serve as witnesses to the fact that I was a complete basketcase last week because I thought Willow would leave me anytime. I even slept on the couch beside her just to make sure that if she died during the night, she wouldn't die alone.

But after a sleepless and tearful week, guess who's still alive, healthy and the mistress of the house? I don't know if she just played sick so that my dad would be nicer to her or if cats really do have nine lives. Whatever the reason may be, that feline just gave me the scare of a century.

But in the middle of all the drama, I realized how much I love Willow, almost like a person. She's been with me since High School and we have a lot in common (no, I do not lick myself or cough up hairballs). I do know that one of these days her dying act will be for real and yes, it will be sad, but for now, I'm just really really glad that every time I arrive home, there will be a brown and black ball of fur waiting at the door. And when I step inside, she will immediately turn away and pretend she wasn't waiting for me.

Bah. I love you crazy cat. Scare me like that again and I'll go after you with a water gun.

I'm so sorry! I really couldn't help it! Wah!

Introducing the Ramos family first cousins. This picture was taken in April 2007 at my tita's birthday. There are only 19 of us in the picture but 30 of us all in all, the other 11 now working abroad or like us, in Manila. I'm second to the youngest in the flock. The oldest among us, M.Joy now has a 22 year-old daughter and the youngest, Klarisse has just entered the university. I love them all.

"So, you have your cousins, and then you have your first cousins, and then you have your second cousins... "

Karen Smith, "Mean Girls"

1. Passing NAMCYA. Wow regional winner na pala ako. I'm happy with that already. :D

2. 8 days in Thailand for a much-needed vacation (or not? SAYOWE pieces are HARD haha)

3. My family. Mamee, Dada, Manang, Lisette, Lalaine, Vincent, Adrian, Titas, Titos, Lola and Lolo ( forever my wine buddy)

4. My friends. Best friends, close friends, acquaintances, friends out of the country (Diomedes Saraza Jr. hahaha!!!!!!!! :)) Thank you!!

5. My dog Mojo, cat Willow, parrot Coy, turtles Ashley and Bords, fishes Law-ay and company and my lizard Stanley

6. One last RADIO PRODUCTION Thank You Lord. Isa nalang.

7. Surviving in school despite the prevalence of "id" majority of the semester hahaha. :)

8. Most of all, living to be 19 and blessed. :)

Happy Birthday also to Victor Medina and AJ Consolacion :D :D :D

Mwaaah. :)

A few saturdays ago after PYSB practice, i hitched a ride with one of my friends to the LRT2 station. When we were on Aurora Blvd, the car roughly screeched to a stop, accompanied by the agitated humming of the engine and the acrid smell of burning rubber rapidly invading our lungs. It turns out, my friend had been driving with her hand brake on all the way from Santolan and so one of the back wheels almost got burnt from the friction.

We jumped out of the car and inspected the steaming hot tires. We must have spent about half an hour waiting for the tires to cool down before we could start the car again. On the highway to our left, vehicles threateningly sped by like a fast-forwarded slide show and the LRT2 proudly roared across her tracks above our heads . The sky was getting dark and the Manila pollution felt heavy upon us. While I fanned the smoking wheels vigorously with a book and my companions gathered around the burnt one, trying to pacify its steam, i came to a realization.

For the past five months, I have been driving with my handbrakes on. That is why my speed along the highway has been so slow and the ride has been so bumpy. I've bitten off more than I could chew, taking on academic and emotional responsibilities bigger than myself. Sooner or later, my tires are going to get burnt and I'm going to have to pull over to the side of the road before they explode from the heat, while all the other cars will just zip past me towards their chosen destinations.

In 2 weeks, it will all be over. Phew. In the meantime, I'll just hold on tight, do the best I can with what little energy is left in me, and pray.

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28

8 final exams, 1 arranging portfolio, 1 radio production, 1 NAMCYA semi-final round, 1 photo essay, 1 MTV, 2 listening exams and 1 report to go. Whoooh! Go go go!

Yesterday I went to Ministop to grab a bite before MSO. Crossing Leon Guinto back to St. Scho, the car to my left suddenly honked loudly and persistently. Confused, I looked at who could be beeping at me like that. I saw a short-haired woman and a man with glasses and a moustache, waving at me frantically from behind the glass.

Two of my favorite teachers. Mrs. Patricia and Mr. Noel-Norien Isidro. Awww. :)

I miss them.

My second Lit Response Paper. I worked extremely hard on this paper. If my teacher doesn't give me a decent grade on this one again, ewan ko nalang.:)

Of all the themes in Romeo and Juliet, I believe love to be the most strongest and most recurring. The word “love” alone appears 170 times in the play. Love is the driving force in the story- it is responsible for many of the events that take place, whether they are directly or indirectly causal to the outcome of the play.

            Shakespeare, because of his extensive use of love as the controlling factor in the play, gave us a myriad of descriptions, imagery and insights, that it is seemingly impossible to extract one statement that sums up everything. However, I find that Juliet’s definition of love is the best: “But my true love is grown to such excess / I cannot sum up some of half my wealth”. She acknowledged that love is too rich and complex to be understood or represented at all.

 Although it is the unifying theme, it is presented in a variety of forms. Love’s physical side is described by Juliet’s Nurse and Romeo’s best friend, Mercutio. They jest about it in a vulgar manner devoid of any deep emotion; thus, lust becomes the better word for it. Romeo, in the earlier part of the novel, proclaims his love for Rosaline which is clearly a mere infatuation, as it ends as soon as Romeo sets his eyes on Juliet. Paris’ love for Juliet is best described a love based on agreement. His motives for marrying her are merely her family background and societal status. There is also the deep platonic love that Romeo displays for Mercutio by taking revenge on Tybalt for killing his best friend. Filial love is also evident in the play: Tybalt is fiercely protective of his cousin Juliet, Benvolio is loyal to his cousin Romeo in all events of his life.

Romeo and Juliet represent a different kind of love. Though seemingly they are ill-equipped to handle it because of their young age, they are overwhelmed by the first wave of true love, which rapidly submerges them in her waters until they drown.

            This love between Romeo and Juliet is the most powerful element in the story- it defies social ideals patriotic conventions and even filial obligations. Due to their youth and the rapid pace of events, it may be argued whether the drastic steps the pair took to protect their devotion to one another unto death were truly rooted in true love or were simply the result of their impulsive nature. However, Shakespeare convinces us that this is indeed true love by showing us the ultimate expression of it: death. Romeo and Juliet saw death as the ultimate way of preserving and protecting their love, and they gladly succumbed to it without second thought or fear.

            I have studied in Literature I that tragedies are characterized by a change in fortunes of the state. In the case of Romeo and Juliet, the change was that the Capulet and Montague clans end their rivalry and erect golden statues of their children beside each other in Verona. Through this, Shakespeare tells us one last thing about love: it changes people. Love made two young people grow up into adults in a short span of time, and it transformed a hate-ridden society into a peaceful one that respects and forgives.

Marc: Oi Bryan gaya-gaya ka ng pagkain.

(They are both eating chicken nuggets, rice and kawali.)

Gaille: Uuuuuy.

Marc: Bryan, bibigyan kita ng isang nugget... kung bibigyan mo ako ng isang nugget.

Kuya Bryan: Ano ba yan! (kinikilig)

Marc: Eto, letter M, para Marc.

Kuya Bryan: (thinks)

Kuya Bryan: O eto, letter H para .... Hhhhhhhhiiii.

(Both gaze at each other lovingly.)

My life is a bookshelf of memories. Happy and sad recollections. Stuff worth remembering, and stuff I'd rather forget. But there are also sacred memories that sit in a corner of the shelf, that don't get re-discovered until a few years have passed and life gives that shelf a little shake. You are one of them.

Claudia's little sister. I remember, one time, in my senior year and in your freshman year, you got left behind by the schoolbus. I texted your frantic sister that I would be bringing you home. My mom took an instant liking to you the moment you timidly entered the door of our car. Up to today, she still talks about you and what a sweet girl you are.

You were everywhere- at our barkada's tambayan table, in the SC room, outside our classroom. Forever with your hair down, tucked behind your ears and a quiet smile on your Claudia-ish face. You were as shy as your sister was extremely outgoing, but you complemented each other like like the silence that adds character to a piece of music. You always approached me, or anyone of us "ates" for that matter, tapped us on the shoulder or tugged at the sleeves of our blouses and said in your whispery voice "Ate..." and opened your arms for a hug. You gave the best hugs- lots of innocent love and just enough squeeze.

It's been, one, two three years since I last saw you, hanging out by the stairs at our class reunion at your house. Now that I think about it, you must have grown up a lot- just like little girls usually do at your age. But I believe you never outgrew your innocent nature, no matter how much you've grown. Wow, you're a High School Senior now- the same age we were when you came into our lives.

Godspeed, Eeka. Thank you so much- for the hugs, for the smiles, for the unconditional love. You will be missed and never forgotten. You're an angel now, and I bet the supply of hugs up there is unlimited. I love you.

 

 Hiya: Most foreigners would translate this as “shame”, but to us Filipinos, this is “a sense of propriety”, one of the accommodative surface values of Filipino Psychology.  The fact that I grew up in the Filipino, “shame”-oriented society, yet had a hard time describing this term slightly surprised me. This is probably because this concept of “hiya” is so deeply imbibed in our culture that we are no longer aware of how it affects our lives.  After a good amount of research and reflection (and interrogating my friends), here is what I think and believe about it.

 

Due to our strong faith in God the father, Filipinos put great value in the family, a value which extends to the wider society. Our need to belong to and be accepted by a group leads us to do all sorts of things to keep and gain the approval of our companions. Hiya is the general term used to describe the attitude of the Filipino in persevering to maintain decent relationships with others in society.

 

            Assessing myself, I can say that the hiya attitude is accountable for most of the things I think, say and do each day. I put great value in respecting others, watching my thoughts, words and actions, and being as welcoming as I can to others. I can also say (not too proudly) that it is also hiya that has caused me more than once to remain silent in the face of adversity for fear of hurting others or denting my reputation.

 

 Hiya is still deeply embedded into my personality and as a result, most of my thoughts, words and deeds grow forth from it. I know I am not alone in proclaiming that previous statement- most Filipinos have the same strong sense of propriety.

 

To assess this societal value in a positive aspect, it is because of hiya that we respectfully address our superiors as “Sir” and “Ma’am”. We are naturally hospitable, to the extent that we would forego eating a meal just to feed our guests.  We would rather be politely diplomatic than brutally frank in a difficult situation.

 

 On the other hand, however, hiya, when blown out of proportion, leads to a fear of breaking away from the norms of society. This is especially unhealthy when it cultivates closed-mindedness and basically discourages making any room for improvement in the community. As an example, we have poor countrymen who have resigned themselves to their current state in life for fear that attempting to climb up the societal ladder will be fruitless and even disadvantageous.  Paralyzing fear of going against the status-quo would be even dangerous in the face of modern problems like corruption. To quote Edward Burke, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for the good to do nothing”.

 

 

            Something that disturbed me is that hiya grows mainly out of the concern of “What will they think of me?”. For me, it seems quite shallow because it puts importance mainly on one’s reputation. For me, people should be respectful, welcoming and tactful because they genuinely care about others and not because they worry about their image. Also, in some situations, hiya might even already be synonymous to “inferiority complex” if a person lets himself be taken advantage of by others because of it.

 

 

 

            A commonly-used term nowadays by Filipinos, especially the youth, is “walang-hiya.” It may be used jokingly in conversations, but when used seriously, it pertains to being unmindfully insensitive and arrogant. In short, the total opposite of what the average Filipino aspires to be. However, just for the duration of this paper, I will connect the “hiya” we have defined in the first part of this paper to the newly-introduced term “walang hiya.”

 

            If a person then is, “walang-hiya” (as defined according to my terms), he would be disrespectful, hostile and plain insensitive. Without a doubt that is bad, because it defies the basic courtesy that any society in the world upholds.

 

            However “walang hiya” would also extend to one who would not be scared of ridicule and disapproval just to speak the truth or to address a wrong. On the larger scale, it extends to the one brave enough to defy the marginalizing standards that characterize the Filipino society and separate the masses from the elite. If this is a person who does not let the darker part of fear dominate their beliefs, then I would aspire to call myself, too, a “walang hiya”!

 

            However, in the world that lives outside this paper, this is not what we would normally call this admirable type of person ( besides the fact that he would not deserve to be called a “walang hiya” due to the negative connotation it carries). So, then, there is a sizeable gap between the “hiya” the Filipino society so treasures and the “walang-hiya” it detests.

 

            I believe that the Filipino youth of today reside in that gap. This because of the combination of close-knitted family upbringing and the rapidly changing world outside the home. Thus, we are strongly rooted in homespun values such as love and respect, yet we do not let ourselves be dominated by fear when it comes to living right, as individuals and as members of society.

 

It is true that there are snatches here and there of the rude, antagonistic, afraid and even indifferent. Generally, however, I am optimistic when I look at my generation.

 

I believe we have been taught well by our forefathers and this in itself is a foundation strong enough to help us cope in a rapidly changing world. I can also see that the “hiya” concept instilled in our culture is slowly being shaped. I hope that in the future, it will be devoid of all unhealthy fear and grow out of the sincere values of respect, compassion, justice and love.

 

 

Time	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday
7:30-8:00	PHILIPPINE HISTORY			I   HAVE   NO   CLASS!   OH JOY!   I   HOPE   IT   STAYS   THIS   WAY!
8:00-8:30						APPLIED MUSIC 5
8:30-9:00
9:00-9:30		ARRANGING  1	FUNDAMENTALS OF PSYCHOLOGY		FUNDAMENTALS OF PSYCHOLOGY
9:30-10:00
10:00-10:30
10:30-11:00	LITERATURE 1					FORMS AND ANALYSIS 1
11:00-11:30
11:30-12:00
12:00-12:30		PERFORMANCE FORUM
12:30-1:00
1:00-1:30			20TH  CENTURY  MUSIC
1:30-2:00					RADIO PRODUCTION
2:00-2:30						P.Y.S.B.
2:30-3:00
3:00-3:30			PHILIPPINE MUSIC
3:30-4:00
4:00-4:30
4:30-5:00					CHAMBER MUSIC 3
5:00-5:30
5:30-6:00
6:00-6:30	M.S.O.		M.S.O.		M.S.O.
6:30-7:00
7:00-7:30
7:30-8:00
8:00-8:30
8:30-9:00

 

I was bumming around online and found the following photo in k. Gerry's multiply.

Hahahaha! I can't imagine my hair was thaaaaaaat long. Hamazing.

Smile Kate!

To the one who's two decade's old!

Though we know you'll miss the good old years,

We know you'll stay fresh as a child forever!

To the one who makes life as sweet as dessert

And who puts the S in SUNLIGHT!

Ms. Spontaneous

Ms. Smileyface

Ms. Studious

 

No alcohol for Steffie! (We know you don't need it. :p)

"Wait lang, magc-CR muna ako sa CR ng mga boys." -Steffie Alivia (2007)

Hahaha! Happy Birthday Steffie!

 

due to a lapse in common sense and an extreme sense of curiosity, i explored the "customized themes" on multiply just a web page too much and ended up deleting my old layout *sob*

 

goodbye beautiful picture of the girl playing the flute that's been my background since, like, forever. haha!