Looks like Milan, doesn't it?

I have always thought that enrollment in big universities were supposed to be a breeze. Well, at least that was what I thought up until yesterday. See, I have submitted myself for yet more torture to pursue higher education by taking up graduate studies (somehow saying that does not still feel quite right, LOL!) I was officially enrolled yesterday in the country’s catholic university.

It was almost going well up until step 3 where I am supposed to have my subjects encoded that it all went crazy. Apparently, the oracle system was eating my record, refusing to accept me as a new student, but what was appearing from the registrar was that I am an old student from the conservatory of music!

But instead of transforming into a decepticon, when the clerk asked me about it I just could not help but laugh a hearty one, because of all errors in the world, me in the conservatory of music was just hilarious – I am born tone deaf. Major LOL!

When I told Sir Job and Echo , my wonderful, wonderful friends who were with me yesterday (thank you very much for looking after me!) they also burst out laughing!

For what it was worth, at least for a day I was a music goddess. But still, please don’t ask me to sing.

Enjoyed till I burst

I just received my creative swap loot bag yesterday from Leah. It came all the way from Canada in a red box with the word “enjoy!” written on top. Sorry, but I think it did not do the package justice. Instead, I think it should’ve been “have fun till sunshine burst out of your ears!”.

Thank you very much Leah, for all the effort, thought, and creativity you have put in this package. I definitely felt all the love that came with it. I was like a little girl bouncing in excitement as I opened the parcel and unwrapped them piece by piece. I especially loved the princess mints and saucer, and the key chains too. She also sent me a couple of paper cranes that her hubby made! It was so cool it could’ve frozen hell over. LOL.

I was not the only one who received a gift yesterday though, for I have also given my Man two handmade clay polymer key chains (they are really wonderful, you should also order yours from Cheryl Abrigo; comes cheap too) last night, for being such a wonderful Babe.

Wow, all these gift talk makes me crave for Christmas more and more!

The first chapter of Neil Gaiman’s latest best seller, The Graveyard Book (thanks for the copy Babe!) is titled ‘Why Nobody Came to the Graveyard’ – obviously that is an antithesis to how most of us flocked graveyards last Halloween to remember our dead.

I read somewhere that it is funny, how relatives come together every All Saint’s Day, in a sort of reunion, and all the catching up and snacking covers the fact that most of the people around that grave knows very little about the person lying six feet below.

But I think what is more interesting is finding your departed loved one’s grave flocked with a different set of people, a day after All Saint’s Day – just like what happened to me and my family when we visited our grandparent’s burial last Monday.

It was very movie-like: we came exhausted all the way from a neighboring province; I was carrying this wonderful flower arrangement of white chrysanthemums and orchids, and as we approached the grave, it was obvious that a lot of people were gathered there, not noticing us that we just caught each other in deep surprise as our gazes locked.

It could’ve been fine, it was not as if they were another family of my grandparents -  if only they were not using our grandparent’s grave to play Bingo, which they most certainly did, that they were like mice scrambling all around upon seeing us. Apparently, they were from the grave opposite ours and it so happened that ours has more shade from the big tree near it.

It was customary, to pray upon being there right? Instead, because of the Bingo thing, the first thing I said was “Lolo, sinong nanalo [Who won in the Bingo, grandfather]?

‘Realization’ is one of my favorite words.

I totally agree with Freud when he postulated that the human subconscious is way larger than we think. I am always surprised when I find out things that has always been at the back of my mind, or when I finally realize emotions I have had since day one.

It is truly interesting how we always tend to know what we are supposed to know, give or take a trigger or a little stimuli for us to be conscious about it. It is as if everything is out there, so ‘obviously hidden’ from our sight till the last two minutes of the ball game.

Maybe that is why I have quite interesting views when it comes to ‘looking’.

Sometimes, we need to open our eyes, to see. But other times, I have found out, we cannot trust what we see that there is always a need to close our eyes and go by how we feel. However, by feeling, in the dark, it can be hard to truly comprehend what we are supposed to see, because literally, we are blind.

But in the end, I guess the point is, there really is no reason to look for something – all we really need is to look.

It is hard to do the right thing when the right and wrong are both defined relatively – primarily the reason why the world is sick.

Doing the right thing specially becomes difficult when how you really feel clashes with it. It is like thinking about it and finding it good in your head only to realize that your chest is revolting. Besides, there is nothing more satisfying than revenge, or redemption, or basically just doing anything you desire.

But to give justice to being human, just because we can do it does not really mean we should.

Suffering is optional. Happiness is a choice.

I just returned from a spiritual retreat and to say I feel great is an understatement. I feel transformed, reborn.

I discovered a lot, why I am carrying so much emotional baggage, and why I allowed myself to carry them in the first place. I guess I reached a point where everything just got too heavy I was stuck.

But not anymore.

I realized that holding on to pain is like having one hand in between the jaws of a shark, while on the process, your other hand still continues to pet the shark.

It was a very painful process, the retreat, but feeling all the pain – embracing the pain till I bleed, and knew every single aspect of that pain- has led me into acceptance that cleared my mind and helped me see what mattered most – that there are more important things than pain, or holding on to someone’s guilt.

Clearly, there is no use for negativity in one’s life – for if you are filled with it, you are not allowing any space for beautiful things to come. If we fill our hands with so much baggage, we would not have any more free for new, worthwhile ones to be picked up.

Most importantly, if we are unhappy, we suffer, and the worst part is, the people who love us are also unhappy, and suffering.

It may sound very pious, but really, all we need to do is to let go and let God.

On two separate occasions, people who know me personally who have been reading my blog has asked me if I was sad. It came as a surprise, their inquiry. I did not notice that I was being melodramatic, was I really? All I knew was that I was severely short-circuit, the epicenter of a stress catastrophe. Now I stop to ask myself if I am sad. I rerun my last few days and found that I never said I was “actually sad”.

So does that mean I am happy? Well, I never said that. For a fact, I remember telling my closest people more than once in the last few months that I was unhappy.

In the past, my only problem was not eating vegetables; but as time goes by, I feel the psychological junk food I consume every waking day is very high, I now have two reasons for being unhealthy. God help me. I think I am too young to die.

Now I realize what is the difference between being a drama queen and a true attack of depression: it is a matter of consciousness.

I analyze and assess myself on an objective basis, splitting myself in two: a patient and the nurse. If I am to look at the subjective verbalization of the people around me telling me that I am “sad”, objective signs that must be present to validate the claim should be one or a few of the following: loss or a sudden increase in appetite, lack of interest in activities that are usually routine or enjoyed, spacing out unconsciously, a drop in interpersonal relations, anxiety attacks, stress bouts and confusion.

Or in my case, all of the above.

Success is the ability to move on from one failure to the next.

I spent the day with my good friend who had just failed in the recent board exam for accountants. We ate a lot – almost had a party, and gave food away to the neighbors, who one after the other asked, “whose birthday is it?” We thought he was really special because failing and all, we still had a bash.

We talked about it, the failing, a bit, but it was really more on a fun tone, though we never dared to underrate the impact, it was definitely not okay – but more definite was that I won’t allow him to sulk about it. I told him that crying upon hearing the news was enough; doing it again would be redundancy, and to be called redundant was just ridiculous.

I have enough sense stored on the old cabbage to think about success in a positive way, I mean, about failure, in a better light. We decided that what happened to him was just one way of not passing the board – and there are tons of ways he can take next so that he’ll eventually receive a different outcome. I’m sure it hurt, and probably it hurt like hell, so much that I would never understand… but a little self-pity and that’s that, no more, no less.

For one, things happen for a reason – the universe is so grand I cannot bear to think that the cosmos would allow something to occur by mere chance, without rhyme nor reason – maybe in a parallel universe, but definitely not on this one.

Plus, failing once is not really failing. Ultimately, it is what you really do after failing that will determine how the world judges your success.

Our actions, or lack thereof, speak for ourselves, of who we are, of what we are.

HB polymer clay keychains

These are for my best friends that I sorely miss from the university publication. They are also all professionals now, but I think we would all agree, our days as campus journalists were one of the best times of our lives.

Indeed, growing up can also have a down side.

I miss all of you autistic people. I will surely give a lot just to be with you all again.

camelbak m.u.l.e polymer clay keychain

This one is a replica of my Man’s backpack, not really exact because of the discrepancy in shape but it is pretty close. My Man is pretty much in love with this backpack and it is really amazing how this key chain looks a lot like it, details and all. It is really very cute how it hangs from one of the bag zippers, looking like a mini me of the whole thing!

All these are creations of Cheryl Abrigo of R Angel. I really am a big fan of her creativity. These are made-to-order though there are some ready made ones, but it is amazing how you can send her photos of what you want done and she will deliver by giving you a cute tiny version of it! She does key chains, phone accessories, necklace pendants and earrings – all these made of polymer clay.

Surely, gifts like these will be very much appreciated – for one, they are only one in the world! Plus the thought and effort are really valuable. If you are interested in having your own or seeing more of R Angel’s products, visit her facebook account and browse through her albums. I am sure you will also adore her and her work.

I for one was amazed.