Highway to Happy

January 23, 2008- the universe conspired and, suddenly, Keng and I’s schedule became free. As always, we grabbed this opportunity to go out on a date. This time, however, it was extra- special because it would be my pre- real world date with him.

We started off our long day by visiting the chapel in Greenbelt. Then, we headed to G4 and had a scrumptious lunch at Heaven and Eggs. After that, we went back to Greenbelt and watched P.S. I Love You.

Honestly, I was really touched by the movie that I decided, right after it ended, to post something about the story. However, when the lights went on again, I was deeply moved with what I saw: there were just a few couples in the movie house that watched the film with us, and most of them, if not all, were in their 50s and 60s.

That vision erased my fascination about the characters in the movie and the love they shared. I still think their love story was great. But, as I’ve said, it was just a story. What I witnessed, right before my eyes, were genuine demonstrations of love that was backed up by 20 or more years of togetherness. I hope Keng and I would grow old the same way: maturing with every lesson learned, yet, still young at heart to actually take time to hold hands and watch movies together. I just can’t see myself growing old with someone else.



He’s my home.

Random thoughts are circling in my mind right now that I find it really difficult to translate into words whatever I want to declare. Perhaps, saying that I have experienced my first day in SGV and my first overtime in the same place within 24 hours would be sufficient to express how tired I am while typing this down.

My first day can still be considered bearable and fun, despite the additional hours I spent in the office. Seriously, the mere experience of getting hold of those sacred financial statements signed by the partners, themselves, is overwhelming. More than that, the privilege of signing an actual Audit Control Sheet is definitely gratifying. The bruises on my feet caused by going back and forth the 8th and 4th floor was just a small price to pay for having had the chance to create a mark in SGV.

After being exposed to the firm’s work environment, I guess, finally, I can say I can see myself working as a CPA- with piles of papers to accomplish and 15 days a month of OTs.

SGV and Co. is my dream workplace. Considering that they have 60% of the top 1000 companies in the world as clients, I’m sure there are a hundred other students who would kill to be in my place. I would never ruin this opportunity by being a Primadonna. As what I’ve told my boss, I’ll do anything as long as it’s not morally degrading. And, if ever he would want some coffee, I’ll be willing to go down the street and buy him a cup from Strarbucks. I just really have no idea how to make one myself.



I signed an actual audit control sheet!

After a long day of working, some of my expectations weren’t met. I was super excited to do certain stuffs I now know would be impossible. However, I am not rushing into ‘acting’ like a CPA. I’m willing to take baby steps into becoming the best one that I can be. So to Sir Valen and Big Boss JEZ, bring on the humongous pile of financial statements for me to photocopy and roll. I would accomplish all of them with a big smile plastered on my face.

Two nights ago, before bedtime, this is one weird habit, I went to the kitchen to read the papers. As I was flipping the pages, a familiar face caught my eyes: it was Chris Tiu’s- the record holder of my longest crush, ever.

Despite the handful of errors the journalist committed, like calling him a Green Archer for instance, I continued reading up until the last word. I couldn’t help but imagine how I would be like have I read this months ago. I would probably re- read it over and over, up to the point of memorizing facts. And his pictures? They would have gone straight to the center of my corkboard.

I seldom have crushes on celebrities, though. And in those few instances, the fantasies were short- lived. Perhaps, there was something about Chris Tiu that made the giggles and daydreams last longer. It could have been his gorgeous face, his basketball prowess, or maybe it was the fact that he was also intelligent. Whatever the reason behind was, it no longer mattered. The six months of going gaga over Chris Tiu ended the moment I found out he was actually a friend’s ( hi Dex) first cousin. The fact that he was that close to my reality dethroned him from being “the perfect guy”, and, eventually, the “kilig” wore off.

So, currently, I’m having a time- out from being lost in thoughts about some famous guy. No one had been really successful of replacing Chris Tiu, yet. For now, I would just settle for the equally good- looking Chinito guys in La Salle, until the next big crushie comes along.


Keng’s still my super duper truper crush, though. *wink*

I have always been the “baby”.

My dad treats me like a 12- year old girl who’ll never grow up. He drives to wherever I have to be and texts me non-stop when I’m neither in school nor at home. I don’t have a problem with my dad being that protective, though. What I’m concerned about is I might not be able to handle things well on my own.

When I went off to College, I assumed it would somehow be different. In all fairness to my dad, he loosened up a bit and let me deal with my own issues. However, in school, I still feel like I’m being taken cared of too well.

I must admit, La Salle has been spoiling me since day one:

There were countless of times I’ve been placed on the spot and have been asked which parts of my past I would rather change given the chance to. And of all those untold instances, I remember answering, ‘none’.

Just this morning, I visited a friend’s blog, and, once more, I asked myself: Is there anything about my history I rather modify?

In spite of giving myself a pretty lengthy list of my missteps, I still can’t find any reason to change my past. Same as the worn- out answer, I treasure every story behind me and all the lessons I’ve learned with every bruise.

If I’ve been the perfect daughter, I would have never appreciated my parents’ unconditional love.

If I’ve been successful in every pursuit, no victory would ever be sweet.

If I’ve been the perfect girlfriend, I wouldn’t have prized the unfailing love Keng secures me with.


If I’ve had a different past, if I’ve made better judgments, if I’ve done things better than the way I did, I would have been, not necessarily better, but certainly a different person living everyday with people other than those who are parts of my story right now.


I don’t love every inch about myself today- and that’s one hefty reason why I hold dear all the souls who appreciate and love me in spite of my imperfections and lapses.

It happened nine years ago, yet it remains vivid in my memory. My dad was rushed to the hospital; my mom said he’s going to be alright. But the tear that was forming in the corner of my mom’s eye told me otherwise.

My dad needed to undergo a triple by-pass operation. I was just in third grade then and I don’t understand a single medical term the doctor was saying; but I detected from the tone of his voice that it was something serious.

When I got home that night, I prayed really, really hard. I asked God to save my dad, and if He does, I’ll love my dad everyday with all of my heart- and that is, exactly, what I’ve been doing for the past nine years of my life.

Perhaps, God knew I couldn’t get through a single day without my tatay. Perhaps, he heard my prayers from the stars. Perhaps, that day was just a simple reminder for me to always love and appreciate my dad. I know there’s no need for that incident to happen for me to love him the way I love him now. But there are certain things we tend to take for granted until one awakening episode happens. I’m just thankful that event took place before it was too late for both of us.

To my all- time UAAP buddy, to my No. 1 fan, to the one special man who is irreplaceable in my heart, happy additional nine years to your life and happy additional nine wonderful years of having a dad like you to myself, too!

When we are faced with death, we learn to appreciate life.
When we are faced with undeniably backbreaking challenges, we learn to appreciate the simple things that make us smile.

One week- I can’t believe the first day of classes is just 7 days behind me. Seven nights of sleeping for a while, then waking up to continue homeworks, then sleeping again, and waking up once more trying hard to accomplish anything bleary- eyed; I’m afraid I’ve lost my sense of time. I go to school, not knowing what day it is, because even so it won’t make the slightest difference. Whether it was a Monday or a Thursday or even a Saturday, my days flow by the same; and if there’s one thing I cannot tolerate about life, it is living it monotonously and just going with the plans.

On the other hand, if there’s one thing I adore about my seemingly humdrum life, it’s the bunch of people I live it with.

I know, not everyone is luckless to be submerged into a modular lifestyle, but these past days, I also realized, not all people are lucky enough to have crossed path with undeniably witty and lovable souls.

Mr. Scholar: Two. (his answer to 750 less 698)

Mr. President: Pwede si Ms. Myra na lang mag- panel for the business case? (fyi, Ms. Myra is the dep. secretary)

Ms. Athletic: Dapat ba ethical? (her response to our prof who was asking about
what we can suggest to a firm)

Ms. Sexy: By pair na lang kaya. (when asked to ‘adopt’ a person, she obviously
doesn’t like, into their group)

Ms. Chinky eyes: Oh my God! (when she found out she ‘accidentally’
took the log book with her.)

Mr. Top- notcher: Why would you get something that ugly? (referring to the log book)

Ms. Pet: Weeeeeeee! Weeeeeeeeee! (squealing like a pig in class)


One week down, less than three months to go. There’ll be a lot of challenges and chapters of books and sets of exams I have to win through, that’s for sure. But with the breed of people I have for blockmates, modular doesn’t feel like modular, at all.

K32 rocks!

Just when I felt like there wouldn't be anything I could write about aside from empty words and mere rants, Keng surprised me with something really close to my heart: a piano.

He downloaded a piano in his ipod touch so I could, at least, wash away the stress of having to pass thesis topics- only to be rejected- and accomplishing 5 Published Article Review Sheets in a span of 3 days. I wasn't able to play anything aside from Doe-A-Dear (or whatever its title is) and happy birthday, though. Years of not touching piano keys definitely winkled out the skills I possessed.

But even though I was just literally playing with the keys and hardly making any 'music', it felt so uplifting. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the sound of the keys nor the gentle movements of my fingers which were huge parts of my childhood. Perhaps, it was the feeling of having someone prioritize my happiness, over and above anything, that washed all the stress and pressures away.

For the past three years, what have been occupying the most space in my closet are the ‘giant’ Tupperwares where I keep all the books I’ve used for the past 2 modular terms. I have three of them already and I’m predicting I would have to ask for another one by the end of this term.

A week before the first day of classes, I took time out from enjoying the rest of my vacation to clean the books. Most of those books, if not all, were brought from Recto. Well, it’s kind of amusing how I managed to fill three giant containers without knowing a sole bookstore in that place and how to even get there. All I had to do to get hold of the stackssss of books I needed was push some buttons on my cell phone. Well, Keng has been spoiling me with his book service, for the last three years.

If there’s one thing I look forward to during modular terms, it’s the special treatment Keng gives me. In spite of his tight schedule and own share of pressures to handle, he always does whatever he can to make things easier for me. The book service I mentioned, that’s just one of his countless ways of sending love. With his every move, his every word, with every tight squeeze of my hand, he expresses his faith in me. And with every embrace, with every gentle kiss on my forehead, he assures me, that no matter what appears on that course card in the end, I’m no less than the person he loves. That -more than anything- has been my biggest source of strength.

Just this morning, I was flipping through the pages of my planner, marking special dates and friends’ birthdays. Then, I got knocked out; this is actually the last time I’ll be planning the year ahead as a student.

Currently, I’m about to face my last year in College. Well, my ‘last year’ if I’ll make it through 2 modular terms, the OJT and a thesis in one piece- and breathing. Terrified won’t even begin to express how I feel right now. I’m not fearful of the challenges, though. What I’m scared of are the many decisions I will soon have to make. It’s funny the way I carefully planned how my life would be like only to find myself a door away from those plans, yet still clueless of what to do. It’s amusing how we unearth what we truly want early on in our lives and merely forget it as we tread our way towards that goal.

Right now, I’m a day away from my last year as a student. I am, possibly, a giant leap away from my dream. As I plan the pivotal year ahead, I won’t forget to allot time to take thought of my heart’s desires, hoping they won’t slip away.

I have long envisioned this stage in my life. I’m just astonished it’s now staring at me, intently waiting for my judgments and actions.

I hope I’ll not disappoint myself, and the mere handful of people who have faith in me.

December 30, as most of us know, is dedicated to honor our National hero, Dr. Jose Rizal. This is the day when he valorously accepted a bullet for our dear country’s sake. Honestly, I never valued this date, until I took Kaspil1 under Mr. Santiago.

Like some of us, I find History subjects boring. I was never fond of memorizing a couple of hundreds of pages worth of information and intricate details. I regard knowing those facts irrelevant.

Let me rephrase that.

I regard simply knowing those facts irrelevant. So what if I know Rizal’s full name? Sow what if I can recite Mi Ultimo Adios? So what if I can name all Filipino Presidents in their chronological order?

Again, so what?

Last term, I was fortunate enough to encounter a professor who isn’t impressed with students who are walking encyclopedias. He gives more importance to what one understands rather than what one merely knows. And, above all, Mr. Santiago challenged me to question why I should know what I know.

On our first meeting, Sir told us why we are even required by the law to take this course. He asked us if there was anyone who taught us how to smile, cry, scream, laugh or feel pain. No one, right? Because, since the day we were born, we already knew these things. But do we even have the slightest idea that we are Filipinos?

Mr. Santiago revealed to us that the reason behind studying history is for us to develop nationalism- not to memorize facts, not to be bored and definitely not to merely make our lives miserable. I guess, if every history teacher would tell his/her students what Mr. Santiago told us before discussing anything else, students would have better appreciation for the subject. It would, possibly, shift the focus of the students from simply memorizing to what’s really important- understanding.

Towards the end of the term, I can say I’ve further learned about Rizal and our rich history. But more than that, I’ve grown deeper understanding of who I am as a person.. of who I am as a Filipino.