Three Things About Me...
This is actually long overdue because I got this optional 'assignment' from Tess last month. It was originally entitled "three things about me that you dont know". Something like that. I was thinking of making mine as "three things about me that you dont wanna know." Sounds intriguing but well, the things that belong in my closet arent supposed to be publicized.
I'm sure everyone in Tess' blog world except me has already shared three of her funny, weird, sad, or embarassing experiences or facts about herself. I'm glad I'm only asked to give three otherwise this post would turn out to be a "kwentong marathon."
Rollers on My Head
Back in college, I always had one-hour vacant time before my next class at 2:30 PM. Everyday after lunch I'd take a nap with 2 hair rollers on my head. One afternoon I overslept. I only had 3 minutes to get ready and rush to my class. I checked my things... they're all set. I couldnt afford to miss my chemistry class so off I went. I was running non-stop hoping against hope that my terror professor was coming late herself. I was close to the phy-sci (Physical Science) building when I spotted my crush coming in my direction so I stopped running and walked like a lady. For the first time in my two years in the university the object of my admiration looked at me. No, he stared at me. At last he knew I existed! As soon as he passed by me I started running again with a wide grin on my face. I reached the lecture room 5 minutes late but prof was late too, yehey! Then I noticed the students around were looking at me in a strange way. A classmate approached me and said, "Bakit ka naka-rollers?" I was so shocked when I realized I was the one looking strange. In my mind I said, "Ano??!!! Patay!!!" That instant I wished I just disappeared. Trying to save myself from extreme embarassment, I said, "Ah, oo nga. Ok lang naman di ba? UP upholds student freedom so I'm free to wear rollers around the campus pero sige na nga, tanggalin ko na lang."
High School Fight
I got myself in a physical fight with a classmate in high school. Her name was Emma Estrera. She was huge while I was lanky. In fact, I used to be teased as tikling for being so payat. Emma was a tomboy and always a bully. One day she took something from my bag and started running around. She said I could only have it back if I could catch her. I was pissed so I threw her school bag out of the window. She got mad when she saw her things flying out from the second floor of the library. Needless to say, the librarian who always yelled "Silencio!" wasnt around. Emma punched my stomach so I punched her back in her face. Then we were pulling each other's hair. Being a lot stronger than me Emma was able to hold me down on the table as she put her entire weight on my back. Unable to move my body, I reached for my pen and started hitting her with it. I caught her left arm and made a hole in her one and only school uniform. This time our classmates were able to stop us from fighting more. I wanted to cry but I couldnt. Emma cried not because of the cut (just a small one) I did on her arm but of her ruined uniform. I think I got her scared because she never messed with me again after our fight.
Counting Ships
As a kid when my father or stepmother scolded me and I'd feel sorry for myself I'd seek comfort at the pier (pantalan) or reclamation area and stay there for an hour. I'd sit in the dark making sure no one would notice me and from there I'd watch and count the ships in the ocean as they sailed by. I would cry and cry wishing that one of the ships would come with my grannie (Mama) in it. That ritual never failed to make me feel better. One time I fell asleep while I was leaning on a big cargo box. Mama never knew how bad I missed her. I've always regarded her as my real mother that's why everytime she was away I felt abandoned. I didnt understand why she had to be in Manila most of the time. I was told I was about 2 years old when my mother who led a dramatic life herself, left me under Mama's care until I dont know when exactly. I just remember that I lived in my father's sister's house in Manila when I was about 7 before I joined his family in So. Leyte until I was 16. Sometimes I still wonder how my life could have turned out if Mama just took me with her whereever she went. But being where I am right now, how my life was doesnt matter anymore. Life's a journey. Sometimes the road is smooth and sometimes it's rough.
I'm sure everyone in Tess' blog world except me has already shared three of her funny, weird, sad, or embarassing experiences or facts about herself. I'm glad I'm only asked to give three otherwise this post would turn out to be a "kwentong marathon."
Rollers on My Head
Back in college, I always had one-hour vacant time before my next class at 2:30 PM. Everyday after lunch I'd take a nap with 2 hair rollers on my head. One afternoon I overslept. I only had 3 minutes to get ready and rush to my class. I checked my things... they're all set. I couldnt afford to miss my chemistry class so off I went. I was running non-stop hoping against hope that my terror professor was coming late herself. I was close to the phy-sci (Physical Science) building when I spotted my crush coming in my direction so I stopped running and walked like a lady. For the first time in my two years in the university the object of my admiration looked at me. No, he stared at me. At last he knew I existed! As soon as he passed by me I started running again with a wide grin on my face. I reached the lecture room 5 minutes late but prof was late too, yehey! Then I noticed the students around were looking at me in a strange way. A classmate approached me and said, "Bakit ka naka-rollers?" I was so shocked when I realized I was the one looking strange. In my mind I said, "Ano??!!! Patay!!!" That instant I wished I just disappeared. Trying to save myself from extreme embarassment, I said, "Ah, oo nga. Ok lang naman di ba? UP upholds student freedom so I'm free to wear rollers around the campus pero sige na nga, tanggalin ko na lang."
High School Fight
I got myself in a physical fight with a classmate in high school. Her name was Emma Estrera. She was huge while I was lanky. In fact, I used to be teased as tikling for being so payat. Emma was a tomboy and always a bully. One day she took something from my bag and started running around. She said I could only have it back if I could catch her. I was pissed so I threw her school bag out of the window. She got mad when she saw her things flying out from the second floor of the library. Needless to say, the librarian who always yelled "Silencio!" wasnt around. Emma punched my stomach so I punched her back in her face. Then we were pulling each other's hair. Being a lot stronger than me Emma was able to hold me down on the table as she put her entire weight on my back. Unable to move my body, I reached for my pen and started hitting her with it. I caught her left arm and made a hole in her one and only school uniform. This time our classmates were able to stop us from fighting more. I wanted to cry but I couldnt. Emma cried not because of the cut (just a small one) I did on her arm but of her ruined uniform. I think I got her scared because she never messed with me again after our fight.
Counting Ships
As a kid when my father or stepmother scolded me and I'd feel sorry for myself I'd seek comfort at the pier (pantalan) or reclamation area and stay there for an hour. I'd sit in the dark making sure no one would notice me and from there I'd watch and count the ships in the ocean as they sailed by. I would cry and cry wishing that one of the ships would come with my grannie (Mama) in it. That ritual never failed to make me feel better. One time I fell asleep while I was leaning on a big cargo box. Mama never knew how bad I missed her. I've always regarded her as my real mother that's why everytime she was away I felt abandoned. I didnt understand why she had to be in Manila most of the time. I was told I was about 2 years old when my mother who led a dramatic life herself, left me under Mama's care until I dont know when exactly. I just remember that I lived in my father's sister's house in Manila when I was about 7 before I joined his family in So. Leyte until I was 16. Sometimes I still wonder how my life could have turned out if Mama just took me with her whereever she went. But being where I am right now, how my life was doesnt matter anymore. Life's a journey. Sometimes the road is smooth and sometimes it's rough.
