Sensible Sounds Kindly Shut Up.

I'm done taking my pre-requisites, all I need is one co-requisite, and an application packet and I'm set. All I need to do is wait for my application to be processed and hopefully be accepted in the Nursing Program this year. So why am I dilly dallying?

I'm 19. I'm considered a grown up. Heck, I am grown up. And yet, I still twiddle my thumbs and bury myself in the land of Lala. Does anyone else have the same problem? Many times I wish for a How To Manual or An Idiot's Guide to Growing Up. Please. No matter how mature you get you still quake in your dolled up shoes when you have to go through something new. I guess that's one of the rules.

The first time I was in a plane was a domestic flight to Cebu. That wasn't so scary since I was with my parents. And the naive me was yet to know that Cebu was in the Philippines. The next plane rides were more fun and was just routine that now I can board a plane alone for international flights. And no, Arizona is far from the Philippines.

The first time I was in school was me being too young to remember. All I can remember is learning to write in short hand and being annoyed since my penmanship sucked. Maybe it's because if those black, jumbo pencils. Now I can attest that I know how to write in cursive but it still sucks. I've been to nine different schools since and being a college student, like all the previous levels still has both pros and cons. The only difference is my classmates are not of my race and I actually pay attention in class to the point of being called a nerd.

The first time I drove a car was with my mom in the Farm. She wanted me to learn so she let me take out our van for a drive. It wasn't that nerve wracking since it was an automatic car. Later I would learn how to drive a stick shift, or a manual car. That was harder and earned me more frustrated lectures from my dad and annoyed glares from my older brother who expected me to learn in a day. Suffice to say, that wasn't an easy process and three years later I'm still an amateur in parking and avoiding curbs.

The first time I drove myself to school via the freeway alone in my car, I was gripping the steering wheel so hard. I was tense and unable to fill my lungs with enough oxygen for survival. I arrived in school with ample time to shake off my trembling limbs and prevent tears of joy from leaking. Driving home was better, I was gripping the steering wheel less, and I could breathe easier. All in all I survived and now I can drive with one hand and half of my brain memorizing previous class lectures.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I've taken many single steps, and I guess It'll take time when I can run to my destination. I'm still a frog in a well, I don't know how great the ocean is. I guess wanting to grow up is different from actually being a grown up. I can say it's freakier and more troublesome but it's not something I can avoid if I want to reach my goals. Years ago I didn't know what I wanted to be, and now I am wanting to be something. Move forward, that's all I can do. Mada mada dane (You still have lots to learn).

to hear you say that

there's so many things i want to say. the things that i keep inside and exchange a smile instead. it's funny how as an introvert i rarely say what i want to. it annoys my sisters, or rather bothers them, i should say. when they ask me what i want, without fail i answer "just choose what you want, it's fine by me." and they ask me again what i want, i reply minutes (eternities) later. i know how to choose, i just don't choose for myself. i don't really blame anyone for that. it's my flaw that i nourished growing up. i let other people take away my power of choice. what i eat, when i eat, which dress i buy, which shoe i wear, what class i take, when i take the class, which movie to watch, and so on. you may say, but kat those are such small decisions, they don't really matter. indeed, but they matter to me.

i want to change. i don't want to rely on other people to live my life for me. i don't like living that way. it isn't because of me wanting control. it's just me wanting to be free of other people controlling me. i know that they mean well, and i know they want what's best for me but that can only go so far. if i let other people choose how i live my life, i might as well give them my life to do away with it. i am not rebelling. that's absurd. i just want to make my own choices. i just want to be able to make my own mistakes and know that they're still proud of me. not that i made a mistake but because i am my own person.

my dad wrote me an email a while ago which made me cry for some reason. he said he was proud of me for getting the grade i wanted in my classes and for learning a lot the past semester. why cry? i guess because it meant a lot to me. i made a choice the last semester to not give up until i finished. usually i'd just say i don't care anymore, que sera, sera. but this time, i decided to push myself more and refuse to back down. it was a great feeling when i finally got the grade i worked so much for. i felt so accomplished. and it made me happy that i made my parents happy. to hear them say that i did great was momentous. hopefully, it will remind me that i have the power to choose. to choose whether i want to be great or not. or whether i eat that chocolate or not. whatever.

i said what?

okay, so we had a party today. my party. so technically it was supposed to be for my birthday last month but our social calendar was full, so to speak, and we decided to have it today instead. yeah, there was cake and presents brought by titas and titos. after all that jazz, we got talking, chismis and new news. we were talking about vacation and going home to the philippines on january. suddenly, it turned into an "oh my gosh, let's all go home on january and have a big, badass reunion" excursion. yeah. wait, what?

so, my head hurts. my mom suddenly asks for paper and pen and starts writing down the trip details and itinerary. that's my mom for you. not to be outdone, my tita b says she'll arrange the tickets for the trip, though not pay for all of them mind you. she'll just handle them with a travel agent. further talking led to my tita t saying we'll do this and that, book a hotel here and rent a van there. basically, being the eldest, she'll do the supervising aka the boss.

meanwhile, outside on our backyard, my three titos were chatting and getting drunk...pleasantly buzzed? whatever. inside, all my titas were talking all at once, over each other. migraine is building on my temples. i just sat there eating cake and playing with my laptop, acting as the deranged errand girl to do their bidding.

four hours, two cake slices and a half, one drink, and a dozen pictures later, we had a full blown planned trip to the philippines on january for two (three?) weeks including a trip to cebu, bohol, boracay, zambales, manila and shopping (not in that order). but wait there's more...crud. are they serious? i'd say yeah. are they carried away? i'd say, it's the alcohol talking (oh wait, only tita t was drunk). are they related to me? i'd say sadly yes. whatever.

the point of this blog is, never celebrate your birthday on another day. either celebrate it on the day you were born or not at all. because weird things will happen to you and you will be ignored in favor of planning a trip so spontaneous you will combust. i just don't know how it went from being a party to planning to a plan. somewhere in the middle, the camera flash disoriented me and funked up my system.

my fortune cookie aptly warned me by proclaiming: IT'S OVER YOUR HEAD NOW. TIME TO SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP. yes, indeed. kat, save yourself.

10 years later

I was 8 when my parents sat my brother and I down to talk. It was somber that night in our small living room in Cebu. My brother and I were thinking to ourselves what the talk would be about, did we goof up that day? But no, it was about our eldest sister. She was going to get married. We youngsters stared at my dad like he spouted some nonsense and was just kidding. He wasn't. And the next days were a blur of taking a flight to Manila and staying near my aunt's place.

I realize now that even then that was an alien occurrence. Marriage was usually a happy, joyous occasion with a big flourish preparation and an even grander celebration. But my sister's wedding did not happen that way. I remember being held by my dad as we sat on my aunt's couch. I remember crying, and stomping my feet. I remember being heartbroken and inconsolable. I was being a child who wasn't getting what she wanted. And what I wanted was keeping my sister in our family. I wanted her to remain ours.

I smile now when I recall hating my brother in law even before he was officially and legally my brother in law. I remember being in the farm with him and playing Mortal Kombat and Mario with him and my brother. All the while I was wishing and cursing him away from my family. It was childish and petty but it was me experiencing my world shift and tilt off course. But I remember him smiling at me as if knowing and understanding how I felt towards him.

In the end, I was dressed in a simple white gown befitting a sole flower girl. I remember holding a basket full of petals and scattering them on the carpet as I walked by. I remember sitting in front and frowning as my younger cousin found it amusing that I was in a dress. I continued frowning as I felt itchy in my dress and it turned into glaring as I felt my heart stop and pound at the same time. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I clenched my teeth in despair.

In front of the pastor was my sister on her wedding gown and her husband to be standing side by side. I remember looking on but soon averting my eyes so they wont' notice my obvious glare. I remember learning that even when nerve cells are anesthetized they still feel pain but cannot send that information to the brain, so we don't feel the pain the cells do. I felt that there was a scream bubbling in me but I knew that it would not be heard even if I opened my mouth, my brain remained numb. I was afraid that I would ruin her day for her. I was fearful of being scolded for being a brat. But I was even more scared that she would be forever lost to me.

I remember her teaching me how to read my Filipino textbooks and correcting my homework. I remember her being afraid of mice and anything that crawled. I remember her singing during church, she had such a great voice. I remember her driving the motorcycle too fast and ending up crashing it in a ditch. She was really sorry for endangering us due to her desire to speed. I remember being conned into getting money for them from my mom's purse. I remember being introduced to her highschool friends and being told that I was her cutest sibling but until I was older she held that title. I remember her going away to college and seeing less and less of her. I remember her visiting in Cebu, finding the dialect amusing. I remember being in South Cotabato with her and our family for a vacation. I remember wishing they were just there in Cebu with us. I remember being told she was getting married. I remember wanting to beg her not to marry. I remember wanting to cry and ask that she not leave our family. I remember wanting to ask if she was leaving because she no longer wanted us. I remember being heartbroken that I no longer had my big sister.

10 years later I sit here and write about it. I realize that I had begged them all to stay. And they wished they could but it was not possible. However, I am still their baby sister, they say. I am content with that. I wrote this for feeling nostalgic, for her since her birthday is nearing and I have still to get a card. I wrote this for us, for me being born on the same month she was. I wrote this for closure for that little girl who experienced her first heartbreak when she realized that nothing is forever. I wrote this for being on good terms with my brother in law, who sucked at playing the villain who stole the princess. I wrote this for love which is shared greatly in this family.

Happy birthday sister, you are loved always.

the blame game

I had a fun day today. I went to my Micro class and wrote down lecture notes and then proceeded to the Micro lab. Thank God that I did not spill any more of my culture broth :) So I'm definitely happy about that. What's funny though is that I did not mess up this time but someone, or rather something else did. Our last incubated experiments got contaminated by a fruit fly. Yep, those little flying suckers. It had a great time gallivanting through our class' agar plates so most of our experiments had worms in them. Yes, ew. But it was bearable and we just went through lab uneventfully.

When I finally got out from lab, I sat on the bench near the Life Science building to wait for Dr. Coop for our study session. As I was waiting, I noticed a lady with a doberman and her companion a good distance from me. A few moments the healthy (obese) woman fell forward, as if in slow motion. Her companion, her dog, and I just stared at her as she fell on the ground. Huh. I just watched on impassively but felt my eyebrow raise when she yanked the dog's leash and started yelling at her dog. I watched on as she continued to scold her dog for causing her to fall. "Shame on you!" And other words of anger were issued from her mouth.

I wasn't amused but I had a smile on my face. I wasn't smiling because she fell, I was smiling because she was blaming her dog. I wanted to walk up to her, help her up and say, "Excuse me but don't blame your dog that you're fat." It's mean. But it clearly wasn't her dog's fault when she suddenly pitches forward and hurts her knee. It's a dog, it doesn't know any better. What egged me more was the fact that she was using her dog to carry her things, like a common mule or a dessert camel. I felt bad for the dog to have such an owner. This post may provoke and/or offend people and start the hating and rotten vegetables thrown at me. But what I saw was an obese woman too lazy to carry her stuff around campus, using her poor dog to carry them for her and blaming it for her own fault. I don't mind fat people, I like being fat. What I don't like is when you go and lash out at something or someone else who can't defend themselves from your attack. That's just spiteful and cowardly.

I wanted to name this post 'Don't blame the dog you're fat' but no that's not nice. The next time that happens just don't use your dog as the scapegoat and we're cool. It's easy to point our manicured fingers at someone or something else but it takes a real person to accept that the blame is theirs alone. It's not easy but it is the right thing to do. Everything else considered, my day was fun, dogblaming and all.