Plans for April 2 – 6

It’s the season for college entrance exam review, and the company has given us schedules for conducting classes. I have to familiarise myself with the materials they’ve given me since the company does update them every year. But since I don’t start until next week, I’m going to focus on getting my final requirements for my job applications as an EFL Teacher overseas.

One thing I don’t have is a full body photo, so I’ll definitely drop by Kodak and have my picture taken: full suit and tie. When I get a copy of it, I can sign up for jobs through the company I where I trained for the TEFL.

Then, I have to get the Professional Civil Servant ID that I’ve been waiting for since 2015. After that, I’ll drop by Ateneo to get requirements for transferring there. Once I get the requirements, I’ll have to go to La Salle, get my alumni card (which I lost for the third time) and get other requirements for transferring universities.

I’ll also keep practising my Nihongo. By the end of the week, I should be able to read all the hiragana characters. I’m not gonna push myself too fast to learn this on my own, but I still need to be consistent.

Hopefully, I can fulfil all my goals for this week and not have to carry them over next week.

What are you looking forward to this week? Tell me in the comment section below!

The Almost Dropout

This essay is inspired by The Learning Network’s prompt Do Other People Care Too Much About Your Post-High School Plans? and the Opinion piece by Elisabeth Egan titled Stop Asking About My Kid’s College Plans.


I’m pretty sure I posted about my homeschool on my blog some years back, but just in case no one can find that post (I certainly can’t), I’ll talk about it again.

Egan talks about her and her daughter’s stress from graduating high school and going to college. One major difference between Egan’s experience and mine is that kids in America are pushed to leave home after high school. The major problem as Egan explains:

Both conversations — college and driving — are stand-ins for the real subject that’s keeping us up at night: Our kids are leaving home in a year. No more books all over the table, no more late-night cups of tea. I don’t want to spend our remaining time obsessing about where my daughter is going to college. Except for the tuition (deep breath), the destination is beyond my control.

Most Filipino families have their kids live with them probably until the kids get married or if they go work overseas (which is what I’m hoping for). There’s only one reason why Filipinos stay with their parents: salaries are too low. I don’t want to talk about low salaries since that would be another essay. I’m just explaining why kids don’t leave their parents after high school.

In my case, my high school experience was completely different. For one thing, I was in a homeschooling program. I still reported to a school. The only difference is that I was handed piles of modules and had to teach myself the lessons then take the tests in school. The other thing is that my family was in shambles (arguably it still is), so I didn’t care much about my studies. I didn’t have much support coming from my parents especially my father. No emotional support. My mother’s support is lacking as always. I mean, I’ve always wanted my family to be better, but I can’t do anything about it. I didn’t care about anything. I felt numb. Thinking about it now, I was depressed. My parents did this to me.

I was so close to dropping out and just calling it quits, permanently. There was nothing that could have inspired me to push forward. Then one day, it came. I was handed the large green envelope from De La Salle University-Manila. I got in a university. Seeing that envelope was like a spotlight washing out the darkness that shrouded over me.

I immediately made a tally of the subjects that I haven’t finished: 2 subjects from my junior year and all subjects in my senior year. I basically had to compress my entire senior year in four months. Yes, that includes P.E. and thesis. That was one of the most stressful times in my life.

I got into DLSU, and I thought it would be smooth sailing from there. O! How I was wrong! I was very wrong.

It’s Samme!

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Let's go fam!

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Around a year ago in a cafe near where I lived, there came a group of girls whom I never saw before. This was new to me since I pretty much knew everyone at the cafe. They were a lot of them at first, but as graduation came and went, they trickled down to just three: Samme (the one in stripes above), Lans (the one not in stripes above), and Drei (the one that’s not in the picture above). We four plus two other guys, Renz and Jules, got close at the cafe. We’d often share stories and dreams about the future.

But ever since the cafe went on hiatus, I don’t get to see them that often. So when Samme told us to go watch her perform with I-SA at their concert, I couldn’t say no.

Lans and I agreed to meet at SM Megamall at 5PM on the day of the concert. I, being the always-early-never-late-I-hate-Filipino-time kind of person that I am, got there at 3:30PM. I immediately regretted it because I forgot how much I hated SM malls. These malls are always crowded, and I hate to say it, but I also hate the crowd. So I found myself a nice little spot at Chelsea Kitchen that was away from the people and worked on finishing Hokkaido Part 3 through the WordPress app on my phone.

Lans soon arrived, and we probably talked a good 20 minutes about Korean boys! After a while, we got Samme a red velvet cupcake from Cupcakes by Sonja as a gift for doing a good job on the concert (she loved the cupcake) and left for UA&P. Lans talked about how she was so hot as Romeo at her play, and schoolgirls were taking photos of her. Then we bumped into Samme’s sister and mother along the way and almost got run over by some cars (in my defence, there wasn’t any indication whatsoever that the lights were about to change). When we got to the main gate, the guards told us that the concert was at the back of the campus, so we had to walk another 10 minutes. Samme greeted us at the lobby, and Lans got to work on her makeup while I munched down on some Korean chips and yoghurt ice cream.

Samme’s sister and mother soon arrived and we all entered the theatre. We watched a good 20 minutes of advertisements till will decided to buy some food at the Korean grocery. We came back, and the show was already starting.

It’s been a while since I watched a performance on stage, and I was really glad that I did come to see it. The former president of I-SA was an amazing dancer, especially during her solo performances. The entire production was pretty good: good use of lights, of video, of music etc. What I didn’t expect was that there would be a story to their entire production. If I remember correctly, it was about chasing something/someone you want and to not be afraid of doing it. There were different storylines with different conflicts and resolutions.

But what really caught my eye was the happiness I could feel on that stage. They loved dancing on stage, and it made me miss my musical theatre days. It reminded me of the lights shining on my face, the floorboards on my feet, the characters we took in, and strangely the smell of the air. That was a nice life that I had, but loving the one I have now is better than reminiscing my glory days. It great to see young souls shine so bright. I love it!

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The Effects of Being Rejected for Employment

I’ll keep this short since I don’t have much drive in me. For about three months, I’ve been sending CVs, going to interviews, and taking tests. I told myself that feeling disappointed after getting a rejection letter was normal but as more rejection letters kept pouring in, a cesspool of depression began to build inside of me. It wasn’t the companies’ fault that they rejected me, and it isn’t even my fault that I was rejected. “I just wasn’t good enough.” That thought found itself in the crevices of my brain wrinkles, and it was pure poison.

This poison couldn’t be stopped. It was the truth. Doing my best wasn’t good enough, and there are an infinite (well not really) amount of people who are infinitely better than me.

I went to a job interview a week ago with high hopes of getting accepted. I got there early, an hour early. There was a 7 eleven nearby so I decided to grab myself a cup of hot water with soil and milk. Sitting there and staring out the windows with dozens of people whizzing by made me feel alone. Everyone needed to be somewhere because their work told them to do so. I was a stationary rock with an affinity for hot water with soil and milk. I threw the joe away and made my way to the office. All my confidence had mysteriously disappeared.

I saw an acquaintance from uni at the office, and my stomach began to churn. Needless to say, I got rejected. The interviewer told me upfront that I was just going to be frustrated in this workspace. I will never forget her words, “You’re so young. You’re like 24? 23? And yet you look so weathered out.” Lady, you don’t know the half of it.

At the elevator on the way out, my friend asked, “What are you going to do now?”

I drew a blank. I didn’t know what to do next. “I guess I’ll just go home then.” I said.

I was so depressed that I didn’t even hug my friend good-bye. I just waved and walked away. Each step I took to the bus station was a pang to the chest. My teeth began to grit, and my hands turned into fists. The poison had hit me hard. On the way to the train station in the bus, I broke down. I just started crying. I covered my face with my bag but everyone could hear me. The only thing I could think of was, “Why wasn’t I good enough? Why am I not good enough? WHY WHY WHY? FUCK!!”

For 20 minutes, I cried in that bus. For 20 minutes, I tried to hide my red eyes in the train. For 20 minutes, I cried at home.

Baby Come Back

Guess who’s back in the blogosphere? That’s right! Me! So Imma make a post in a couple of hours about a relationship I have with this girl, rediscovery of self-love, and Buddhism. I’m officially on vacation now, so the amount of posts will rocket! It’s great to be back! It’s great to be able to write what I want once again. Baby, I AM BACK.