Yokohama Cosmoworld:
3-minute roller coaster ride with Claudio: Y700
Ferris University Staff:
Ito-sensei: best and coolest language teacher evah!
Dormitory:
Claudine couldn't stand the heat inside the lounge so she opens the sliding doors. She jumps when the alarm goes off, realizing only too late that it was past curfew (and that the police-linked alarm system has been activated). Dorm manager asks why she did it and Claudine could only apologize in the politest, most earnest manner. The TANGA factor? The lounge is equipped with two air conditioning units. Way to go, Claudine.
Hiroshima Study Tour:
Here's an excerpt of a supposedly hushed conversation between two Filipino girls amid an important tour lecture at the Underground Communication Room in one of the city's preservation sites:
Michelle (whispers): unsa'y "sleepy" in Japanese?
Dynamic Tokyo Tour:
I was glad Mich won the SONY writing contest that sent us preparing for a whole-day tour of Japan's capital, complete with lunch at the swanky Four Seasons hotel and an afternoon cruise at the Sumida River.
Tokyo Disney Resorts:
Tip: While in Japan, visit Disney Sea as it is only found in the land of the rising sun.
Kamakura:
We got to meet the Great Buddha and see what's inside him too!
Ueno:
Cherry blossoms and beer-drinking men, boating on the lake, and Jesman's unfortunate encounter with Grace's skirt *snicker...snicker*. Ah the fresh scents of spring...
Osaka:
Universal Studios Japan may not have half of Disneyland's charm but it certainly rocked. Spiderman the Ride and Snoopy's Water Slide, you completed my day at the theme park.
Kyoto:
Early in the morning, just prior to sight seeing, Claudio forgot to secure the Durian safely inside his duffel bag when we left the Utano Youth Hostel. By the time we returned to claim our rooms, the door to the storage area where we left our stuff already had a sign that said "DO NOT PUT DURIAN INSIDE THE ROOM". (!!!)
Oh well, I guess some Filipino tourist made these Japanese aware of the nasty smelling Durian waaay before our little slip. hahaha
Needless to say, with its historic temples sharing the landscape with futuristic buildings, Kyoto is THE BEST PLACE EVER!
This is a story about how we all dressed up for nothing, how church-boycotting Dirgy attended service, and how cap boy Boaz wore formal long sleeves...
how Donna and I looked like SUSG tWS party hopefuls...
how Nutri-fit walker Jordan decided against snoozing and only Micah got to usher...
how we ambled along the pavement looking for ways to appease our tummies.
Coughing on a Wednesday
Poor Odie for having Category 1 Tuberculosis and poor tWS staff (a.k.a. the Union)for fearing for their lives. Poor me for having just learned about the airborne TB and silly me for being so ignorant. Odie's my friend but if he's coughing all his pathogens away and we'll be working in close proximity with him, and he turns out to be contagious then I'm filing a restraining order. haha! Talk about sensationalism.
But seriously, as his illness is still level 1, he's no more dangerous than a kid with acute gastritis. He's under medication so there shouldn't be a problem as regards health issues and airborn diseases PROVIDED that he's getting enough sleep and eating the right kind of food.
Donna and Mich are gradually talking Odie into maintaining a healthy lifestyle, Kim is warning the Ed board to have their chests X-rayed, and some staffers are whispering, albeit in the open, about possibilities of acquiring TB. Apparently, Dirgy's killing himself if he contracts his Editor's celebrated illness. And until Odie steers clear of his midnight routine and strictly follows a balanced and guaranteed eating habit, I'm flying as far away as possible from the chamber.
Especially since I'm coughing myself...
No hard feelings Odie!!!
I almost forgot about one particular email message I wrote and almost sent to my brother. You'd think it was from a lonely flunky who desperately wanted to get out of a subservient existence she's been in for quite some time. Thanks to boredom that lead to me scan through my "Draft" mails, I found it! And, for the sheer purpose of blogging, decided to include it in my list of utterly irrelevant posts.
I can't believe I'm back.
I guess a year of luxury in Japan - with all their automated contraptions and anime-like people - had me craving for the adrenaline-pumping research assignments and extra-curricular activities I so enjoyed. Yet now that my feet are once again touching Philippine soil, specifically, Dumaguete soil, I'm confused as to what I'm gonna do next.
I don't have any money, don't have any real friends save for a pitiful two which, I'm afraid, is narrowing down to one.
In the event that you receive an urgent notice telling you what to do with my lifeless body, please bear in mind not to freak out as prior to that, I'll be sending signs and showing hints of dying* without purpose.
*By "dying" I meant figuratively...
Verna always points out that something funny happens to one of her friends on Friday the 13th. As last year's T.G.I. Friday hook-up of my good friend Xander with an infamous girl called Em-Em (whatever happened to her anyway?) turned out to be one of the most shocking news we've heard, Friday the 13th and its usual creepiness now gets associated with surprising incidents of comedic proportion.
After Xand's "ordeal" I'd rather not hear Verna say something about one of her friends' fate as I am one of them and would definitely not want something funny and unexpected to happen to me, as in the case of poor Xandy.
"Kinsa napuy maka-uyab og di mao?" we often joke as the auspicious date approaches, and Verna and Ren are throwing mischievous looks at none other than moi. What the...am I now to be preyed on just because I'm the only person in the group who hasn't been in a relationship before? Verna and Ren are only acting like excited parents eager to take prom pictures of their daughter and her partner. I am the daughter but I can't quite make out who the partner is. And even those who have caught my attention before pale at the thought that there's is that someone looking for his life-long prom date.
Problem is, he doesn't even know I exist and vice versa. But if I ever consider getting married or at least having someone to call a boyfriend, it wouldn't be hard to find a decent Christ-centered man who would take me right? I mean, how hard is it to find a godly, gifted, and good-looking guy?
Seriously, I've got to stop fantasizing about perfect knights in shining armor, or even perfect peasants for that matter because nobody's perfect and I've got to accept that the world does not tolerate a faultless human being; that it wouldn't give me what it is that I longed for in a man.
But just in case our world gets twisted and every fantasy becomes a reality, I might as well make a list of the qualities I look for in the person I'd be in love with.
Physical Characteristics
1. I'm into charming sensible guy with a smile that knocks my socks off
2. I'm a sucker for dimples
3. I'm obsessed with long lashes, sexy nose without the big holes (hehe), and perfect teeth
4. I don't fare well with tattoos, piercing, and unkempt hair. (gotta be neat and organized dude)
5. I can do with someone who's at least 5'7 and 2-4 years older.
6. He's gotta have a healthy body
Traits and Personality
1. He loves God more than anything in this world
2. I'd court someone who's neat, tidy, and organized myself
3. He doesn't smoke, do drugs, and drink religiously
4. He's an intellectually stimulating, talented (can draw or write well… hehe), and well-rounded person
5. He's fluent in spoken and written English, and preferably any other language
6. He has an orgasmic sense of humor
7. He's proactive, disciplined, and mature
8. He's emotionally, spiritually, mentally, physically, and FINANCIALLY stable
9. He has a cool and loving family
10. He's gregarious, friendly, understanding, patient, loving, honest, loyal, hardworking, and God-fearing
11. He bonds well with my friends and family
12. He has eyes only for me
13. He loves and understands me - moody and grumpy or not.
14. Oh, and he cooks too
But it doesn't really matter, does it? When Love strikes, everything I see is flawless. Every imperfection that I've been avoiding becomes beautiful, and my wishlist becomes as valuable as trash.
When cupid aims, my heart is the focal point. It hurts yet I can do nothing to ease the pain but wait. I'm scared of being hurt, of loving and then leaving, of loving and then crying, or of loving and then regretting. I can't seem to settle in one place, let alone one person. I can't imagine myself being tied down to a limited scope of my life, exposing myself to all the pain and insecurities the world gladly harbors.
And if it means breaking free from Love that is yet to happen, I'm going solo. The risk is not worth the pain and it doesn't even justify the shame. I know how hard it is to love, how much more to be in love.
I musn't fall in love.
So even if a possible life-long prom date arrives and he loves me for who am, no buts, no ifs, no condition... and he understands my moods and is patient enough to put up with me... and at the end of the day he's reserved the sweetest hug that spells loyalty, and the umpteenth first kiss that promises devotion...and he's as silly as he's opinionated with punch lines that leave me laughing with myself and anecdotes that leave me pondering... and his overflowing initiative and gregarious disposition makes it easy for him to bond with my loved ones...and he cleans and cooks and looks handsome in his apron especially when he flashes his widest grin... and he leads the prayer and has an enviable relationship with Jesus Christ, and therefore avoids vices and lives for God...and he's romantic without being predictable, sweet without being overrated, and is as hardworking as he is humble... and he loves me and I find no reason for not loving him back...
I think I might consider falling in love after all.
I've been trying to convince myself that cleanliness isn't necessarily next to godliness and a little dirt actually helps enhance an individual's immune system but really, having survived our kiosk's opening week without so much as cringe for failing to scrub the small space clean or arrange stuff the way I think they're supposed to be arranged is a feat.I played quiet well in the game of nonchalance with the wet and grimy construction site, mosquitoes feasting on CBA blood, and too much solid waste not to mention leftovers and plastic utensils crammed in the same makeshift trashcan (gasp!) as my opponents. That and more would've easily sent me packing, shivering 'til I'm a hundred percent certain the whole area is thoroughly disinfected.
I could come up with something, not really grand, but enough to sort out the mess that's been invading our kiosk since day one. I could buy a kick-ass cleaning arsenal and wage war against molds, mites, and mildew. Or, I could cry, alone and defeated, in my room after a long and busy day's work.
On second thought, I could just adjust. And relax.Who cares if it rained noodles on the floor? Who cares about overflowing inharmony of unsegregated garbage? Or of cakes of mud on a rainy day? Or of the fact that [dirty] loads of money pass by my palms while I cook pancit canton or (gasp) eat tuna sandwich with unwashed hands (double gasp!)?
Me taking all these unsanitary part of life into consideration is like a meth addict thinking of giving rehab a chance. But really, the thought should, could, and ought to scare me but I feel pretty normal. Even I surprise myself when I try and succeed at looking at grime and then ignore it. (Whaaaat???!!???)
If surviving all these is normal, and being normal means being less of a neat freak, and being less of a neat freak means being more considerate of dirt then.......
Oh dear God I'm becoming BURARA???!!!!?????
*killing self now...*
