Highway to Happy

For the past weeks, one thing that's keeping me busy during the afternoons are the replays of UAAP's 70th season. Yeah, I know, I'm such an obsessed basketball fan.

Anyways, yesterday, they again played the La Salle- Ateneo game (2nd of the 5 games), wherein the scores were just separated by a heart- breaking 2 points, which gave Ateneo the win. Honestly, when the game was approaching the crucial last minute, my heart was urging me to just press the remote control and shift channels. Believe me, as weird as it may sound, I still cringed as I watched how Chris Tiu burried my team with his deadly three- point shot.

UAAP and, of course, the perrenial La Salle- Ateneo rivalry definitely spiced up my (hopefully) soon-to-be-ending College days. Relishing a championship while still in the university has been part of my wish list since I entered La Salle. Well, the day that wish was granted and Green was declared the victorious color certainly makes it to the good few highlights of my 2007.

For my 8th term, I've accomplished something i thought was beyond my capabilities: earning a spot in the FIRST HONORS DEAN'S LIST.Be that as it may, there is one more thing I've fulfilled, which is of equal importance, if not more than, with that colored certificate I'll be receiving. Last term, I took my last law and my last taxation subject and got way higher than 80, the passing mark.

I suppose, every soul who has spent a decent time with with me knows that i want to become a lawyer. I have high respects for CPAs, and their job is anything but easy. I just can't see yself working as one, all my life. Perhaps, i still have a resticted view of what CPAs really do. I might change my mind; I might not. For now, I'll deal with the fact that I regard my undergrad degree as a mere stepping stone to the colossal dream i made for myself.

For the past eight terms, I've been submerged into a lot of pressures and humbling challenges. I'm just overjoyed that, in spite of terror professors, grilling recitations and nerve- wracking exams, I was able to make it through all my law and my taxation subjects whithout a grade lower than 91.

I'm envious of those people who earn quiz score as low as 40/100 in their majors, yet still possess overflowing courage to actually fill- up law school application forms. i guess, one can't be blessed with everything. There are certain ingredients I must discover and develop myself.

So for now, I'm giving myself two years to wrestle with insecurities and reservations. Hopefully, I'll emerge as the victor and, eventually, have that "Attorney" attached before my name.

Weeks ago, there’s this movie, which Keng and I have been planning to watch but our schedules just would not permit us to. My final exams were getting in the way and so were his major subjects. Fortunately, just when we thought that pirated DVD was our only resort, Keng found out that it was still being shown at Shang. So for this year’s Christmas date, we agreed that “Enchanted” was the perfect movie to watch.

The film was a 7 year- old’s dream come true: seeing Cinderella come alive and live a perfect life in this imperfect world. Actually, she didn’t live a perfect life. She was perceived to be ignorant and crazy by the people around her. Nevertheless, she stood by her principles and her sweet idea of love. Enchanted taught me how different real life love stories are from fairy tales- only because we make them so. Of course, there wouldn’t be any fairy godmother to save the day, but the most important thing comes down to just expressing how much a person means to you, how much you really love him/her. Like how Giselle’s song goes, “How does she know you love her?”

Before Keng and I left the movie house, I went to the restroom to check if I still looked okay. Honestly, my main reason was to check if I had any unwanted stains from flavored popcorns. I’m such a messy eater. To my surprise, there was this magical mirror plastered on the bathroom’s huge mirror. And in gold letters were the words: Will I ever find my prince charming?

That line made me smile. I though to myself, with a Christmas song playing on the background, that I shouldn’t be wasting my time in there. I don’t want my prince to be waiting in vain outside. *wink*

I love you, sweetie, and you don’t ever have to say sorry that you couldn’t give me a perfect world. My life can’t be any better when you’re in it. Happy Christmas.

For the past four months, one thing I’ve been missing badly is playing and running around with my cousins. Alyza, Alyna and Aldrei are three of my youngest cousins who live right next to our house. I used to spend the entire afternoon just watching cartoons with them, despite quizzes and approaching deadlines. Unfortunately, last term, my classes end as late as 7:30 pm. So by the time I reach home, they are already in their PJs, peacefully resting on their beds.

Yesterday was my first chance to bond with them again. Rather than playing and running around with those angels, I preferred to just sit on the porch and watch them from afar. These kids lost their dad over four months ago. Yet, there’s no more trace of loneliness in their eyes. Their actions show that they moved on and have forgiven. In spite of their innocent minds and fragile hearts, they managed to stay strong; and I’m confident they will continue to be so throughout the coming years.

Now, as I wrap my Christmas presents for the three little angels of my life, pictures of my own childhood flash right before my eyes. Back then, I’ve been wishing for a big sister from Santa. For this Christmas, what I sincerely wish for from the Big Man Upstairs is His guidance, so I can be the best Ate for Alyza, Alyna and Aldrei- the Ate I never had.

Weeks before radio stations start to play Christmas carols and even months before the malls start to get too crowded, I’ve already checked- out countless boutiques to find the perfect gift for Keng. Year after year, I never get tired of mall- hopping, and even bazaar- hopping until I stumble upon something that would surely make his Christmas complete.

However, year after year also, the quest becomes more and more difficult.

Four anniversaries, four birthdays, four Christmases, four valentine’s day, not to mention those special dates we call our own- sometimes, it feels like I’ve run out of creative juices to even come up with an idea of what to give him. The feeling’s often stressful, knowing that Keng never fails to discover what I secretly wish for yearly. It’s not that I pay too much attention to material things. I just want to give him the best, because he sure does give me that, too.

For our first Chritmas together, I remember giving him an oval locket. The next one, I believe it was a musical snow globe. The year after that I found the cutest precious moments wedding dolls and gave it to him. Last year, I bought a wooden doll house and decorated it as our own home. For this Christmas, there was nothing in any mall and bazaar I’ve visited that reached my expectation. Nothing seems to fit in that ‘perfect gift’ category. So this year, I will carefully wrap in gold and fancy paper something I’ve spent sleepless nights for; something no other girlfriend could give to his special guy.

For our fifth Christmas, I mustered enough confidence to put together something I feel would best express how much he really means to me. I still feel nervous about it, though. Yet, I know there’s no point in feeling that way. Because, in every moment I remember handing him a present, he never fails to flash that smile, which makes me feel that year after year, I’ve succeeded the quest of finding the perfect gift.

A week ago, a dear friend posted an article about lost loves and the regrets that go with them. She mentioned it wasn’t meant for me, since I won’t be able to relate to the story.

That’s what she said; that’s what she thought.

Aside from basketball, one thing I was as passionate about was writing. I was a staffer of our school’s publication, Forum, when I was in 2nd year high school. I was promoted to being the Assistant Managing Editor in my third year. Unluckily, I didn’t make it to the Editor-in-Chief slot during my senior year. The position went to a very deserving friend, anyway.

Until now, I can remember that interview I had with Ms. Jamie, our adviser. She asked me if I was willing to give up being a member of the basketball team to be the EIC. It was a brainless question for me. Of course, I answered no.

The end of the interview was the time for me to say bye- bye to the dream of seeing my name go across the ‘Editor- in- Chief’ title on the Editorial board. However, I still don’t regret the decision I made; I don’t think I ever will.

Basketball and writing are two things I enjoy. I cannot give up one for the sake of a title. I revel writing, for the most part that it allows me to voice out my views in a proper forum. I believe I could still do so even if I wasn’t on top of the team.

Being the EIC was an honor I could have relished. Being the Associate Editor and a ball player at the same time made me feel complete.

Now, if I may say so, there is one thing in my life that got away. But just like two people who are meant for each other, it found a way to come back to me. I guess what I’m saying is, I can’t believe I can now call myself an EIC. Finally.

Perhaps, I really am brainy.

Being a bona fide member of the Accountancy pool, I am not just expected to train hard and eventually give pride to the school through trophies and medals. Over and above that, I am tasked to help my fellow Accounting students survive the backbreaking world of Accountancy by means of tutorials.

Yesterday, I underwent my very first finals tutorials. I was assigned to tutor Meyrick, a frosh. With all honesty, I think he was smart. He was just caught by those traps set by his professor in their mind- boggling exams. I, without question, knew how it felt to be tricked, be careless, and fail the quiz. So before we formally started, I gave him the usual pep talk about not giving up and always keeping his goal in mind.

When Meyrick began digging up his test papers, I felt terribly nervous about not being able to help him in anyway. I have never believed I was smart enough to teach someone. Whatever grades I received in my Major subjects, I charged them on the lucky day, the easy final exams, the last- minute adjustments and everything other than my capability. I would leave the room right there and then if only I had the chance to.

Meyrick’s currently taking up ACBAS2- a subject I took 2 years ago. I couldn’t even remember anything my history professor discussed the other day. He’s such a poor guy to have been assigned to me. I badly needed to check if there was any relevant knowledge stored in my brain.


Good thing, there was a lot.


Our discussion went really, really well. I was able to explain to him his mistakes in his previous quizzes. I also gave him some tips when taking the exam. Whenever he flashed that now- I- get- it smile, my heart couldn’t help but leap in ecstasy. The best part of the experience? He asked for my number and he said he wants another tutorial session if I was free any time on Friday.

Looking back, I remember including ‘teacher’ in my “I want to be a” list, together with lawyer, housewife, and, believe it or not, nun. I have always admired teachers for being able to effect change and see it with their two eyes. More significantly, I admire their ability to aid their students in their baby steps toward their dreams.

So maybe, just maybe, I could make a good professor, someday. Despite the whopping pay checks I would receive by being a full- time CPA, teaching might be a more meaningful and fulfilling route.

Now, I tell myself:

I am intelligent- if that’s what it takes to muster enough pluck to actually pursue teaching as one of my vocations.

I am intelligent- if that’s what I have to be in order to assist young minds in the journey towards becoming the persons they want to be.


I am intelligent- but take out all those grounds I’ve mentioned above, perhaps, I’m still not.

“It’s not right that girls get treated like this and boys get all the freedom. The men in my family are viewed as God. Women aren’t even treated as human beings.”
- Derya, 17

With just a quick read of the lines above, one can be certain that Derya isn’t from a Filipino family. Women, in our tradition, have always been treated with high respects. Though our (women) ancestors weren’t awarded with the same rights as that of men, they weren’t mistreated. Personally, I have never seen my dad hit my mom and he never lift a finger on me, too. So it was doubly shocking for me to learn that there are families elsewhere that pressure their daughters to take their own lives, or else, their families will do it for them.

In this day and age, it is unthinkable that there are certain traditions that restrict the interaction between young men and women. Worse, it is definitely unacceptable, for me, that women who disobey these traditions will be pressured to commit ‘honor suicides’.

Honor suicide is expected to be committed by women who are believed to have stained their family’s name. Derya, the girl who uttered those troubling words above, has done something her family disapproved of: she spoke with a male classmate on her cellphone. Now, she faces the horror of being haunted by her family to take her own life.

I know I don’t have any right to judge Turkey’s traditions, specifically the honor suicide. I have read just one article about it and I have no idea when and why it even started. I have no plans of finding out, though.

Derya’s story, honestly, didn’t make me, at all, interested in what other ‘weird’ traditions her country has. Her story gave me one positive reason why I should be thankful I am where I am right now. Despite the poor governance and unstable economy, we still have countless of reasons why we should be thankful we are born Filipinos- with brown skin, round eyes and loving families.