My Blog.

Filing for PRC. BAH! Uggh! 

Today has been a very long day.  Or perhaps, it’s my second day of the girl thing…which is for me…the worst day of the period. period.  I can eat so much and take out soo much from my bowels.

Going to RMC, getting into hassles with the PRC forms, waiting for the "authorities" for "authograph sighing", calming the nerves of my group members (and calming myself), drilling into Special Records to gain access of the files…and do this and that…going home…chores…ugh.ugh.ugh.

In a day, I do my very best.  Except for my weakness of getting late.

In a day, the least thing I want are whiners and fussers.  They zap out my precious energy. Swear.

As much as I can grin and bear.  I didn’t eat lunch because the food at the hospital canteen’s nasty.  And when i got to eat decent food. Ugh. Pain in my tummy. real pain. Poo. Migraine.

I skipped the last half of the review. I promised Joan’s copy of the OM forms.  And much as I would want to meet Jona tomorrow… oh, I don’t think I can make it.

By the way, while I was waiting at RMC, I noticed my then classmate at FEU-NRMF.  For a moment I forgot his name.  Shoot.  But it was better not to have called him "Jed" cos his name after all, is "Jeff".

I remember when I was small, my pa would listen to classical music while painting… and i would be reading/doing my homework, appreciating the music.  I love the sound of the instruments and I dig Tchaikovsky.

Some of my friends in school were enrolled in music lessons.  Sometimes my playmates have to "suffer" playing piano and since I have nothing to do, I would tag along.  I remember Betbet playing the piano at Ms. Berenguer’s room.  Ms.  Berenguer was stiff and tough but it’s a delight watching the keys play.

I eventually asked around the music department, made my research, and asked my ma to enroll me.  I wasn’t your usual kid.  I wasn’t enrolled in any class like the others.  Nor was I baptised any earlier.   

I was frustrated becaused we hadn’t a piano to play on…I even had my ma buy me a small piano toy. 

Anyway, you’d think I ended up still playing.  I stopped.  There was a time when I became frustrated and then lazy,  insecured that I have always to let my family know how this means to me.  I wanted them to be just like the other parents, so ecstatic to have their children play. 

But I have no regrets in stopping.  I had beautiful memories.  I also know that I can go back to learning if ever I want to.  So long as the passion is there.

I remember my parents bringing my siblings and I to watch the ballet.  I adore the Swan Lake.  The way Yoko Morishita moved her arms.  It’s spectacular.

As i go home after my review, I switch on my pocket radio to listen to classical music. I dare not share this delight to some as I have encountered some who who’d label me as "weird" or "different".  I have been called by such too many times even when I was a child.

Which is why, I am so happy to know that there is a Miriam de Gorostiza who share my delight for music, Janna Inacay and Denise Santos-Huang who pursued their passion for the violin, and Anne Clarice Alipon.  I raise my glass in salute to Bunny Liwanag for her Hemp Republic,for Betbet’s band (I still have to listen but I think she’s worth the performance), and to Kitchie Nadal, who humbly embraces the masses.  These people I have spent my childhood and growing up stages.  Charlotte Laurel, her hands like a spider. 

Peter Tabar for undeniably listens to classical music.

Although not everyone pursed it as a career, the love for it burns.

My runny nose and my itchy throat.  It’s unbearable especially when I have so many tasks to accomplish. If only I can go out wearing house clothes along with my blanket to the review classes… Ugh!  I’m swallowing losenges per minute.

At the moment my life’s confined to review classes and house chores.  It’s nothing exciting and I crave for some R and R.   Even just for a day.

Anyway, yesterday I went to one of the hospitals my school’s affiliated with for the prc signing.  It was noon when the MRT train stopped at Ayala.  I didn’t realize that I was getting hypoglycemic.  The power of the train’s brakes had me, instead of falling forward —- reversely sideways.  The funny thing was, there was a good samaritan who grabbed my hand to stop the fall but the brakes were too great  I still ended up on the floor, held on to the hand and found composure.  I was laughing inside because it’s silly and I felt like I’ve done a swing dance step…ohlalala…and everyone was looking at me…oh, sheesh.

And going to the hospital I was thinking of whether I’d see the resident I’m crushing on but instead was this ever-so-gross-hair-receding resident from surgery who wiped his sipon onto the patient’s linens (sorry, jez!)…langya!

Anyway, at this moment I’m enjoying the food at Lopez at P. Noval although I don’t really know if the food prep is clean but service and food are great, and the prices are cheap!

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I promised myself to go to Church everyday as panata but I fail. I’m always late for the noon mass.  Perhaps tomorrow…

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I miss my friends.

Hope to see you soon.