Friday, 30 April 2010

The Summer is Back

Yesterday was my last day of school for Spring semester 2010.

I ended the year off with a full score on my Spanish essay and a 92 on the last quiz. I also took the final in the morning and walked out with confidence. The only thing that somewhat shattered my confidence was the fact that I had been told the night before to be extra cautious that day.

Evidently a rumour was going around the school that there would be a possible shooting on campus for what was generally the last and biggest day of final exams. I was just leaving my old roommates' apartment on Wednesday night when I heard the news. We had had a wonderful few hour long last conversation about everything under the sun and were just about to get mushy with our goodbyes.

One of the girls in the apartment got a text message from someone who she says never sends out "forwards." The message was informing her that she should be aware of a possible shooting during "prime time" on Thursday. No details were listed and our minds began wondering. We talked about all kinds of reasons why it could be true as well as reasons why it wouldn't be.

In the end, we all decided we would not take any chances. Since we all had finals at the same time we got one of the roommates to drop us to class in the morning so we could avoid walking across campus. I also decided to tell my mother to see if she had any ideas of what I should do, and I was even considering emailing my teacher and trying to reschedule the final. She hung up with me and immediately called the UCF police, who told her they were aware of the situation and had the man under control. (What! So you mean someone was really going to shoot up the school? Is that a joke?)

The next morning I found out that the incident was published in the school newspaper the night before. It was purposely not broadcasted through our Emergency text/email messaging system because authorities did not want to alarm the students during finals; though I am not sure I agree with that message. I'd always rather be safe than sorry.

Either way, in the end, all was calm on the UCF campus. We all went, took our tests, and left.

Now I am back in my house, on summer vacation, and loving every minute of it.

In memory of Alexander Joel Martin King who would have been 24 today. Gone but never forgotten.
Our fallen Angel.

Sunday, 25 April 2010

The Bathing Suit

I celebrated the last week of classes for my sophomore year with two consecutive days by the pool. Despite being three shades darker and having a peeling nose and sunburnt shoulders, I have concluded that life is better in a bathing suit.

Some think that bathing suits are not for everyone, but I think that if we could walk around in them 365 days a year, the world would be a better place.

There is a method to my madness.

When I am in a bathing suit, though I am not half as confident as I portray, I still feel like there is much to be happy about; yes I do realise I am quite the biased source here considering the water is my natural habitat. (A few months into my being I was thrown into the shallow end of the pool and told to either sink or swim; obviously I swam-- and never stopped swimming.)

As for the outside-the-water parading, I associate swimsuits with hot sunny beautiful relaxing days by the pool or by the sea. Either location you choose to identify with it still has a positive "life is amazing" ring to it. It also helps you work on your confidence and pride. (If you can walk around in a bathing suit then you will be unstoppable in any and everything else!)

I could live with that feeling everyday.

But wait, there is more. The layers of clothing we wear on hot sunny days when we are not by the water are excessive. Some little boy or girl somewhere probably laboured all day and night so you could wear that cotton shirt, pit stains and all. I think we could spare that poor child, and the lucky folks who don't ever sweat but have to watch you walk by with a wet shirt when it never rained that day. I believe it is far less time-consuming and much easier to simply make bathing suits and swim trunks than it is to make t-shirts and jeans.

Call me crazy, but I do believe that the more clothes I wear during the winter the colder I feel. I have argued the point that cold weather creeps into your clothing and cancels out your natural body heat. Perhaps this is the culprit. The more layers I wear the more opportunity for creeping and the more hiding places for success. Furthermore, it only takes but so long for me to adjust to the low temperature.

Still, I do not expect anyone to walk around in a bathing suit during winter time in Alaska. (I never did find it helpful to think of "hot summer days" during the cold months in order to warm up.)

As for every other time, I think parading around in swimwear is a great idea. So long as it helps you think of bright, sunny, and happy days, wearing swimwear all the time could really be a positive thing.

Wednesday, 21 April 2010


I realise that when I write I seem to portray myself to be far more negative and/or depressed than I truly am. (I guess that's what makes me a writer.)

I never meant to worry anyone, trust me, I am just fine.

I have not been sulking, I have not been crying, I have simply been trying to find a way to deal with every obstacle put before me.

Yesterday I had three successive failures. The first failure was missing my audition after days of excitement and anticipation. I was let down yet again by one of my UCF friends and in the end all of my excitement was wasted. What was I auditioning for? A group of agents, evidently, brought together by a company that I won't disclose.

Before leaving we had decided to do some research to see what we were getting into and saw a bunch of sour blog posts by people who call it a scam, and a few others who said that it was perfectly legit. Nonetheless, I never make my decisions based on what people tell me. Maybe I am stubborn, maybe foolish, but I do like to see things for myself. (Good and bad are relative. Excuse me if I do not trust your judgment.) Besides, what did I have to lose?

In the end we decided to go to the later audition so that she could go to class and I could still get to audition. Meanwhile she was in class, I got to watch my team lose to InterMilan after falling apart in the second half. I will admit, Inter played very well, however this is a two leg finale and I am more than confident that Barca will come back from the 2 goal lead in the second leg next week.

At the end of the match, I discovered that she did not in effect go to class. She left my room under the pretense and somehow ended up at target. (Hello! Did you not realise I missed my audition for you? So you can go to class. Did you guys take a field trip to target? I think not...) Needless to say, I was a little ticked. Two days in a row.

She was on a roll.

It did not end there. My third failure was Fabian. I agreed to take Applebee to Walmart after her 4 20 class, only to pick her up and look down to see Fabian overheating. Much like Michael Jackson, I somehow felt as though he was invincible and nothing could go wrong. I sometimes fail to realise that he is already four years old and sometimes just needs a little extra TLC.

Things always happen for a reason, right? Maybe I was not meant to go audition.

All things considered I think I handled my day quite well. I think by far my biggest problem is that I am not preoccupied enough. If I had more to do on a daily basis, and more people to talk to and hang out with, I would have far less room for complaints.

Instead I sit around and analyse. I figure my readers would be much more entertained with my writing about a problem than ranting on about how wonderful and amazing my life is; which by the way, it is.

Monday, 19 April 2010


It always amuses me the type of characters who show up at IHOP in the early morning hours. I went there with Caribsa after Universal Knights yesterday and got so many laughs that I swore today was going to be a good day.

I was wrong.

I woke up at 8 41 for class at nine and then proceeded to drag my feet along for the next hour. I showed up in class about 40 minutes late, only to be there for 15 minutes after missing all the notes and having the teacher dismiss the class early. And before you ask why I bothered to go; he takes attendance--or rather passes around a sign in sheet in which I could probably ask a friend to sign for me on occasions if only I had made any.

After that I came home and tried to take a nap. (Considering how exhausted I was after getting a mere 4 hours of sleep last night.) I was awakened by my alarm clock that was set for 1 30pm. I had a doctors appointment at 2 15.

Over the past few days I have been having stomach problems. At first I labeled it food poisoning and blamed the cold leftover domino's pizza I ate. After about 3 days of the same problem, I called it a stomach virus. After longer than that, of not being able to eat, nausea, burping, tasting things a second time, and stomach pains, I decided it was about time I get it checked out.

Apparently I am becoming lactose intolerant due to the excess amounts of dairy products I have added to my diet. In retrospect, I realise that in one week I ate too many slices of pizza, too many grilled cheese sandwhiches, too many bowls of cereal, and too many yoplait vanilla yogurts.

Makes sense.

After the doctor, I went to lunch with Chiney Ting. (You might remember her from my snorkel day back home.) Lunch was all good until I made a stop after and found out some unfortunate news.

To sum it up, I feel alone. Sure I have met tons of good people here. But many a times I sit and wonder if leaving home was the right thing for me. I'm sure in the long run it will prepare me for the lonely days ahead when I am living alone and working, but I am not convinced that this is what college freedom is supposed to feel like. I miss all my friends back home. I miss feeling like I can go over to their house whenever I feel like it. I miss being able to call and say hey, let's go for sushi. I miss the inside jokes & laughter. I miss being able to be there for each other.

I was never the kind of friend who acted more like a significant other than simply a good friend. I'm not the type who gets mad if u don't call me every hour or tell me everything about your life. But being away and living with three mute hermits has made me realise that I do need someone. I need someone I can talk to if necessary. Someone I can call to come over without feeling like a hindrance. Someone I can go visit whenever I don't feel like laying in bed all day. I don't want a friend just when it is convenient, or a friend who has to fit me in their schedule, or who bails on me more than they are here for me.

Perhaps I am being selfish. Perhaps the memories of what April 19 became after last year are keeping me down. Perhaps when they took my cousin away they also took a part of me. Perhaps I am on an emotional-overload. This could be my estrogen talking. It could be that I just need a nice sunny day to brighten my mood.

Instead, though, the day is gloomy; and the rain has washed away all my positive energy and wiped away my big smile.

I wish instead it could have washed away all my sorrows and wiped away my hurt.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

This One Is For You

When people say everything happens for a reason, it usually just sounds like a cheap way to skip out on giving a person real advice. It is used so much that it is almost losing its meaning and emphasis. But though it might not help you to feel much better in the moment; in the end when you look back on it, it is always true.

Being the thinker that I am, I have thought many times about the decisions I have made in my life; both those that were easy and those that were hard. Sometimes I felt as if the whole world was against me--and maybe it was. I can recall many times when I tried to sleep away my problems, only to wake up a few hours later feeling even worse that it was not a dream after all. My heart has sunk so many times that I wonder why it is not beating from the bottom of my foot.

Still, I find that for one aspect of my past, I am getting the last laugh. It feels really good now to realise that moving on was the best thing I could have ever done. Though I may not have done it willingly, on my own, or with my head held high, I still find myself relieved and somewhat proud. (I guess the pride I once surrendered to you came back to me tenfold.)

Not that I was ever taught to feel as if I am better than anyone, however I have sense enough to know when someone makes a foolish, for lack of a better word, decision. I have seen you grow up without growing up and now I get to look at you and shake my head. As bad as it sounds, though, I cannot say I am completely surprised.

If only you knew how many times I sat in class writing away all the things that were going through my mind. I still have these things on my computer and now I am able to look at them and laugh, despite knowing the hurt that was the inspiration. (Maybe one day I will post one on my blog, maybe not. I'm not sure if anyone truly cares that much.)

Nevertheless, this is my last one for you.

I just wanted to express how happy I am for all that you put me through, and that I let time do its magic to help me move on to something much more worth my time and effort; though I almost feel bad that I did not get to help you make better choices and help you see what I saw. Since then, I have learned over and over how much it sucks when you see something in someone that he or she does not even see in themselves. It is a feeling of helplessness that you cannot overcome; like watching from the parking lot as someone you care about jumps from a 10-story window. You just have to stand there and watch.

And just for the record, I still wish you--all 3 of you--all the best that life has to offer. You've made your bed, now lay in it.