andiecrafts

Ever since my 21st, I have been suffering from the most beautiful headaches. Yes, they were more than a tad bit irritating, but they brought me back to an earth I have since long thought I have left for hell (or heaven. As you will soon discover, it would not matter either way.)

Days that pass by with little, if any, awareness of things, or an unbearable lightness of being, as Milan Kundera would put it, are days that one either spend in heaven or in hell. Heaven, yes, for the burden of existence, once removed, brings about a certain comfort no substance (drugs, caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, what-have-you) ever could. Hell, for what is the point of living if it weren’t for the simple burden of life?

Since I am the girl with her glass always half empty, I have taken the liberty to consider my recent drift as that spent in hell. I pass by, seeing everything in it’s fiery red-and-black technicolor, feeling little pain, as most of it is numbed in places I no longer wish to consider as part of me. But the headaches remind me of my humanity, of feeling. And what best way to forget numbness than through pain?

I long to be reunited with a blade once again. It has been more than a year since I have last fed my lust for blood and the longing to see it flow from my wrist. I wonder if I can still stop the longing to feel much longer. I hope and do not at the same time.

This post is by no means a good one, so if you’re looking for the usual products of boredom I produce, slowly turn around and walk away this very instant.

SOoo… My 21st is just a few weeks away (17 days to be exact). Although people are offering to stage me some stag parties (how many are guys supposed to have on their 21st anyway?!?!), and I probably have said yes to a couple of offers, you could do well to not spend too much (are hookers expensive?) on my birthday, and look over my wishlist instead, hehehe…

Anyway, jesting aside, I’d be really happy if some of these things became part of my possessions on the fifteenth of August. Thanks in advance to everyone who’re planning to send me some gifts!!!

MY 21st BIRTHDAY WISHLIST (Updated August 12, 2008)

1. A Yamaha C40 (expensive, yes, so I might have to buy this one for myself) A male Gliederpuppe
   (can be purchased at the National Book Store)
2. A capo Guitar Polish
3. An 8GB Flash Drive
4. A Parker Jotter with Andie Albino engraved on it (Please, not Vikki Fe Albino, I AM BEGGING YOU)
5. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
6. Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote
7. Neuromancer by William Gibson
8. Choke by Chuck Palahniuk Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
9. Atonement by Ian McEwan
10. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
11. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
12. The Hours by Michael Cunningham
13. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
14. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
15. Sexing the Cherry by Jeanette Winterson
16. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
17. White Oleander by Janet Fitch
18. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey
19. Ignorance by Milan Kundera
20. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
21. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

OK. That’s 21. You’ve probably noticed it’s mostly books, since books are really accessible. I don’t mind owning secondhand stuff (books, and even the guitar, *wink, wink*), just so you’d know. Anyway, I’m not saying presents that aren’t on this list won’t be accepted. A nice “Happy Birthday” text message should be enough if you have no cash (or secondhand books or guitar) to spare.

I’ve reverted my template back to the simplest one I could find. I’m still template-hunting, and I hope this makes everyone reading happy, as the annoying gigantic butterfly has permanently gone off to her home among the sunflowers.

To Rhemal: Posted a link in my friends’ page to yours. Sorry if it took such a while. AAAND… FIND ME SOMEONE WHO WOULD BE WILLING TO TRAIN ME!!! If I’m going to embarrass myself in front of people, might as well do it right.

To Possible Sponsors: Anyone willing to send me to Film School at Full Sail University? That would be such a wonderful birthday gift…

To Everyone else: Why the hell are you reading this?!?! You must be out of your mind…

And as you might have noticed, I’ve been writing more frequently (made three posts in two days, hoorah!!!). I don’t know why but I am, and that’s supposed to be great, right?

Anyway, I’m facing the possibility of transferring my entire blog to a public domain (wordpress or blogspot, doesn’t matter). Kuya Winston’s gift is expiring in 5 months, and I’m not sure if I want to stick around having a domain I can’t keep after I die…

I guess that’s enough for now. I better get going to my class (I’m still home, school’s almost 30 minutes away, and I’ll most probably be thirty minutes late for class).

Next time!

I’m stuck in the middle of another Theology class, and I’m telling you, this feels like no Theology class. I have no idea what’s supposed to be theological about the things she’s saying right now, or maybe it’s just me (I’m not doing much of a good job of listening anyway). This sucks. Every moment I spend in this institution just extends my derangement and decreases my IQ geometrically (scary, I KNOW!).

Menchie and I just had a random conversation regarding the usefulness (or, rather, the lack of it) of our 5-year stay in this… university (but prior to that, let me inform you of the funny incident of the ID. I am hopeless, as you probably know, and I have half the attention span of a goldfish, so it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise if I left my ID at home. So as I was rummaging through my bag, Menchie said “Don’t tell me you forgot your ticket to hell, AGAIN?” Yes. What a perfect way to call the school ID. Menchie is such a genius, I’m telling you!) Anyway, for the better part, we have not learned anything. For the worst part, our teachers have made us either look horribly idiotic, or managed to make that into a reality. So to spare my IQ, I was planning on taking up Masters in Management somewhere other than this pit of a hell, right after graduation. Menchie, on the other hand, wanted to study abroad. I have given up on the possibility of doing that without getting my parents broke. How I wish I could get that $150,000 I need to study film in Full Sail. If someone out there reading this is willing to spare me some change amounting to $150K, I promise to dedicate my first film to you.

I’m bored. Throughout the course of writing this entry, I have fallen asleep three times.

I just made a poem for History class. I’d say it was good, considering I made it in under 5 minutes. I don’t know. Maybe it was good because I crammed. Yeah, crammers rule! Good or not, I’m not sharing (*bleh!*).

Yesterday, I started and finished Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. I haven’t had the chance to finish any book for almost a month now, and it kind of sucks. I’m currently stuck on the third quarter of Everything is Illuminated (I think I might have lost the book), and it feels quite good to have finished a book after weeks of procrastinating (even if the one I just finished isn’t on the “1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die” list).

This recent accomplishment made me think, ponder, muse–whatever you would like to call it. It made me wallow in regret of the things I have inflicted upon myself recently. I have known the first moment my mom read me a bedtime story that I would love books for the rest of my life. I just didn’t expect it to turn into such a strong passion (quite bordering on delusional obsession, really). And having finished another book at my own leisure made me realize what a perfect kind of life would be for me.

My perfect life would be staying home all day long, with the occasional walks for supplies and Vitamin D. I’d have a dog, a small and not-so-furry one, and maybe, a goldfish. I’d either have a bike or an energy-efficient vehicle. My fridge should never run out of rootbeer, pineapple juice, and tomato juice, and my shelves should never run out of M&Ms (plain ones) and peanut butter. I won’t have a television, but I’ll have a subscription to the daily newspaper (preferably, Daily Mirror), and at least 2 computers (at least one mac and 1 PC… could have more if need be!). I’ll cook gourmet meals at least once a week (for myself). I’ll wake up at 5AM and sleep at 9PM, and all that time in between will be either spent on reading or writing. One of my rooms would be filled up to the ceiling with books. It’s a simple life. Not entirely social, but as of the moment, socializing just makes me a teeny wee bit more depressed than I already am.

It would be kind of good to have some time to spend on things other than the things I currently do that do not matter to the people I’m doing these things for (hahaha! Made me breathless to type that one down!). I’m kind of missing those days wherein I didn’t have much of a commitment, and simply spent my days in boredom. Oh, how I wish I could just ask for those days back and spend them devouring book after book instead. Or if I can’t, I’m sure I’ve earned them, right? Can I claim them somewhere in the near future, perhaps?

I’m sitting in the middle of Environmental Engineering class, boring myself to death (and what a perfect time NOT to bring a book). The class is almost over, but every passing minutes seems exponentially longer than the last. I’m trying my hardest to keep from manufacturing z’s right now (can’t help but quote from Everything is Illuminated, pardon me) lest I should spleen (Alex, stop spleening me! Nyahahaha!!!) my professor if he discovers me.

OK. I’m starting to quote books now. I think that’s a sign for me to take some of the meds my shrink has recommended. ‘Til my next randomness, I think.

I got hired just this morning. I am now a web content writer-slash-english tutor soon to become web content writer, only. Cool, I know. At least this job would get me to focus on things other than my own misery. I will not hide the fact that right now, I am utterly miserable, and the worst part is that I DO NOT KNOW WHY.

The more I get to think about it, I am so much more like Eeyore than I initially assigned. Maybe that’s the reason why I like him so much. Right now, a cloud’s hanging over me, but frankly, I wouldn’t have it any other way (for now). I know my days are only going to get better (there’s nowhere lower to go from here) and if I were happy, I wouldn’t know the difference, therefore, I won’t be able to celebrate as much as I foresee I will.

I have 20 minutes until my next class. My current Philo professor isn’t exactly smart, but I have no choice but to put up with it. For now, I have to hide Kara’s user account, so, ciao.

According to Marx, Man is work. I have had work for more than a year now. I could honestly attest that I am my work. I have come to define myself by this work, and the fulfillment I get from it. This work makes me happy. Yes, it makes me tired, but for the better part, it makes me happy.

Then comes the point wherein man has to choose. It would have been fine if choosing was the only agenda, but wouldn’t you quite agree that we are all judges in our own little star search? We rank the prospective stars according to skills, according to importance. The star that ends up on the bottom of the list does not remain there, or remain in the search for that matter: they get ELIMINATED. Now, scrap stars and put priorities in their place. It does not matter if the star (or priority, in this case) makes any significance. The fact that they ended up on the bottom of the list is enough to let go of them.

I had to make a star search choice just recently. The stars: Health, School, Family, Kalasag, Work, Friends, God, and Sanity. I had to let one go. I had no choice.

I value my relationships too much, and so I couldn’t quite let go of Family, Friends, and God (I have to especially work harder when it comes to my relationship with God). This is my last year in University, and I think I owe it to myself and my parents to at least graduate a Cum Laude, and so School remains in the game. That leaves Health, Kalasag, Work, and My Sanity.

I made a promise to stay, no matter what. They know it, and I know it as well as they do. I try to keep my promises as much as I can, and so Kalasag is saved from the bottom three. Funny, isn’t it, that my bottom three priorities are Health, Sanity, and Work? My mom would strangle me if she knew my health isn’t as important to me as it is to her. Roa Ming would just probably smirk at the thought that I’d rather drive myself insane as long as I get to live in the spirit of magis. But work? No one deems it important. Who gets to benefit from it other than me, right? Well, for the record, my work has taught a number of Koreans proper English. My salary has helped a classmate study for another semester. My salary has been able to pay for unforeseen expenses in Kalasag (despite my pleas, apparently unheard, of letting me know beforehand of any expenses). Lastly, it has helped me become fulfilled, something that my schooling and extracurricular activities can no longer supply as abundantly.

But I’m letting go of work. I just did. I passed my resignation for August 15, 2008 this morning. And the more that I think about it, the more I feel strangled. I need my health and my sanity, because they are all that I have left to battle the world. I made promises I could never break. I have goals I have to achieve. I have love in need of giving out. But I can’t have that one thing that makes me who I am along with all of that. I miss my work, my students, and my colleagues already. I miss them so much I think I would have jumped off the highest floor of the highest building in Davao City if I were just a millimeter less sane.

My last day would be on the first day of my 21st year on earth. I will no longer think of it as a punishment. It will be a new start. For the life of me, I’ll make sure it will.

Now that I have found myself some room to rest, I think I deserve more. Next week, my application for a 2-week leave-of-absence from Kalasag. This time, no one better stop me. I swear, I’ll kill.

I hate the saying “Men and Women for others.” It is a paradigm which is constantly fed to students in this stupid university. We are constantly being bombarded with means to do something for others and yet nothing to do for ourselves. It is poisoning me with the thought that by being a person for others I could find myself. But this paradigm is sick. It is sick and it is making me sick of everything, including, no, especially of myself.

Responsibilities are different from helping. Responsibilities are things you have to do, and giving out help is not necessarily required of you. But when you get to think of it, you don’t always get to do your responsibilities, but helping is an act in itself. The saying makes you help, and although it is not required of you, you do it nonetheless, and most of the time, in greater frequencies than you are meant to do. But I digress. I meant to explain the difference just so I could establish what they really mean. Sometimes, we think we are helping people, when in reality, it is our responsibility to do something. Or vice versa. I think man does this in order to reconcile the will to do and the actual doing. People whose will is stronger than their actions tend to think of everything they do as helping: just so when they can’t do it, all they have to say was that it wasn’t required of them in the first place, and that they were kind enough to offer some “help.” People who make things possible but rarely wish them so (maybe because they have better things to do), usually “help.” They do not make promises. They do the best they can. And usually, they end up being “helpful.” But since they were only trying to help, not enough credit could be given to them, unless, of course, whatever they did they claimed as their responsibility. I feel for the latter group of people. They end up becoming bitter. They do and do. They “help.” But rarely, there’s no one to help them back.

I know whatever I’m posting is incoherent. I will not claim otherwise. However, I have to make things clear: I am writing all this because I feel bad. I am trying to be kind, but why, oh, why, is my good humor escaping me? I try, and usually, I end up doing, but if whatever you do is meager “dirty work,” of what importance are you, really? I am intelligent, and people do not realize this and/or the next thing I’m about to say. I have a reason for doing the things I do. My brain is filled with strategies. My brain is filled with math. I rarely do anything that matters greatly just for the heck of it. But nothing ever comes out of whatever I do after I’ve done it.

I know you think I want to quit, whoever you are. That all I do is complain and that I rarely do anything. You have no right to evaluate me for you know not what I do. But you keep my word on this: I AM GOING TO KEEP TRYING BECAUSE I ONCE SAID I LOVED WHAT I DO, and you know what? I STILL DO. I LOVE IT. What I hate is the part where you question the dedication with which I do my job. If I did not love my job, I wouldn’t complain. Why would I? I have stopped complaining about a lot of the crap that has been happening in my life, and I’m not about to start again anytime soon. I do not complain about things that are not important to me. Be proud if I complain about you for that means you matter. And, for the record, if you were in my place, you would complain about what I do, too. But I bet you didn’t know that. What do you knwo about what I do, really? Anyway, you’d continue not knowing because you have more important things to do anyway, compared to my job, right?

I said I’m still going to try. But to hell with trying if it puts me on the edge. This time, if I feel like leaving, I’ll leave without any warning. I swear.

Another earthquake in Japan killing, so far, 9, and injuring hundreds. Hasn’t it been just a few weeks ago (roughly two months, if my memory serves me right), since something tragic hit Myanmar and China? Today is a school day, but instead of wearing my pristine white uniform, I had to wear a jacket over my white blouse, and a pair of sweatpants, to my 5:30AM work. It almost took 30 minutes to get to work (compared to the ususal 10-15 minutes), and by the time that I did, my top was wet all the way to the elbows and my pants all the way to my knees, and I was shivering in the cold and  hoping that my supposedly waterproof bag did its job (which it thankfully did). Did I mention that I got this wet by having my mom deliver me only to the kanto of our subdivision (because she once dared to challenge the floods of Matina, Davao City, and lost badly, and wasn’t about to challenge her fate anytime soon, or for the rest of her life for that matter), waited for a ride under the feeble protection of my extremely large umbrella, got a ride (multicab. The taxis were all taken.), prayed with all my might that the car would be safe from the harms brought about by the easily-flooded area near Buffet Palace in Matina, then walked 50 meters under unforgiving rain and over more unforgiving puddles-turning-the-Nile?

I have long since stopped believing in concidences, and am not about to start anytime soon. We are the culprits, people! Imagine a 0.8-degree-Celsius increase in international temperature doing all these things! Want to see what happens after 5.2 degrees more? I don’t! And I might never live to see it, seeing as how this day might eliminate all of us, or, well, leave only the fittest, which doesn’t leave enough room for me in the picture. Damn, I hate it when I try my best to do something good, but everything else seems to be against me.

To all the human beings reading this: let us all congratulate ourselves and give each other a pat on the back for destroying our world bit by bit! Congratulations, people! CONGRATULATIONS!

I am not against Global Warming and Climate Change. All I am is for Environmental Preservation.

I AM FOR THE EARTH AND AGAINST NOTHING!!!!!

Oh boy.

I have been on house arrest by the Health Department of Andie’s Ecosystem for two days now. Caught a bug last Tuesday or Wednesday. Had my throat itching like crazy last Thursday. Had a few people say I was either acting weird, was hot (would have preferred “looked hot,” though, haha) or warm to the touch, or didn’t look too well last Friday. By then, I was throwing a couple of throaty and phlegm-ish fireworks once in a while. Came home breathless, and had to wake a gazillion times during my sleep due to the same reason. Woke up at 6-going-7 on Saturday, again, breathless. Took me an hour to get properly propped up in bed, took another 2 hours before I could get myself out of bed. Texted Menchie I wouldn’t be able to come for our 9-12 class, which, luckily, our teacher didn’t show up for (why am I not surprised?). Took another 2 hours before I could muster the energy (and enough air) to go downstairs. Ate breakfast (took me an hour to swallow five spoonfuls of rice. Think “swallow food then catch breath for 10 minutes” over and over again.), then settled down on the couch. Spent the entire day on the couch by the way, trying to find the best position that was relaxing but didn’t render me breathless. Took some medicine (corticosteroids, if you must know), and found myself almost vomiting almost a dozen of times, while trying to produce some cough as if they were to be sold at a hundred bucks per mL (but what it was simply doing was give me 3 minutes of oh-so-heavenly-and-undisturbed breathing.). Thought I’d be feeling better by night, which might enable me to join the Editorial Seminar at school, but boy, was I wrong. Found the perfect position, by the way, on the floor, while having my head and back propped up on an arm of the couch. Didn’t eat lunch, seeing as how agonizing breakfast was. Was ravenous by 6 pm, and ate a cupful or rice with some tuna hotdog and some bread rolls. All in all, I had 60 mg of Prednisone (a corticosteroid, the usual culprit for most of my weight gain), 10 mg of Montelukast (an anti-asthma medication), and 30 mg of Ambroxol (mucolytic). Thought I’d have gained weight by night due to the Prednisone, but managed to lose instead. Cool.

(Took a break)

Just took a quick shower. Didn’t bathe yesterday (gross, I know) due to fear of drowning. I have had this experience before where I had an equally bad asthma attack and yet stubbornly took a bath. Guess who came out of the bathroom crawling like Sadako? Anyway, I didn’t bathe due to fear of drowning and because I had but few ammos left on my inhaler and was not about to waste them on a near-drowning incident.

I’m feeling much better today but I could not walk for longer than five minutes at a time. So I was left home to, well, rest. But they’re home now, and I guess this post is enough for today.

I’m having these insane stomach aches right now, and I’m wondering if either my kidneys are failing or I’m having ulcer, both due to my meds. Hmmm…

First week was great. I managed to show up early for all of my classes on the first two days and went AWOL on three of my four classes on the third due to my passport application (Hoorah! Finished it in one day!). Everyone managed to notice that I gained weight, which was cool, meaning, people saw me. It was a negative remark, gaining weight and all considering my already fat ass, but then if people noticed you, there might still be a chance that they cared. Might come in handy someday.

I’m not in the mood to write in this blog anymore. I don’t know. Maybe keeping private diaries have more advantages than I gave them credit for. However, it’s good to have people know the exact things going on in my head just so when things start getting jiggy then messy with them, I get the chance to say “You can’t say you weren’t warned!” Man, am I dying to use that line! Anyway, I have this young blog lying around somewhere, but I haven’t the guts to have every one of my friends knowing everything, as in, EVERYTHING (YES! I PLACE EVERYTHING THERE!). Think of this new blog as a private diary however everyone has the chance to read it, and yet nobody, at least no one that I know of or someone I know but doesn’t know it’s me, ever does.

I’m listening to the hit Kalasag song last year: Boston by Augustana. Makes me feel like going away again. Oh the nostalgia.

Anyway, This is probably the most incoherent post I have ever made in a while. Better end it while I still have the chance.