Up-to-college Synopsis

It was summer in the year 1987. The newly-wed couple of two dynamic persons were very eager for their first awaited baby of their married life. On the sixteenth of April, due time struck the clock signaling a baby girl’s delivery. Cradled by the ancestral house of the Marrero’s, a tiny angel said hello to a fresh beginning. She was christened at Holy Rosary Parish Church, Kayan East with Mrs. *|\/|*||)* and Mr. |?*|*|\|)* as the godparents. Her name Crista so beautiful was chosen by her father. That is me! Who am I? I am the typical Filipina. I have black, straight thin hair, black eyes and brown complexion. As the law of genetics is concerned, I am a mixed bred of my parents’ genes but people claim my phenotype to be matching to that of my paternal side. My short stance and stocky type of body can not deny.

My childhood the earliest that I can remember was in Lubon, my father’s home. With the stature of my parents’ work being transferred from school to school; I was left with my paternal grandparents for a while. The farm was my playground and a pup was my playmate. Sometime my agriculturist Aunt Linda, my father’s younger sister, took me to Sumil, Mt. Data where she worked. My father said she was the one who spoiled me. I got back a brat who demanded chocolates to my parents who now with my two more siblings. Who would not look for chocolates when a child’s memories were last filled with such goodies? Grown up now, I realized that any sweet unmarried aunt would treat a niece or a nephew. But behind the demand was a tantrum being thrown to an aunt or a lola. I remembered how I long to hop in the buses that passed by going home and be with Mama and Daddy. But the longing was gone astray when I got to knew my father’s ill temper. With my bare age of five or six, I remember how he threw to me a wooden chair after opening the door and found out it was me who was knocking vegetables for sale in my childish act. It was from Dad I learned to be tough. Dad at times brought me with him to school where he worked. It was a dusty rough road of about two kilometer walk before we got there. Weekends also called for snail picking from private rice paddies off the community’s limit. Those were the era when everybody was lenient in letting one to crossing one’s property without being held as trespasser. The edible snails were free for the picking at the same time considered as pests to rice plants. Once I slipped off to a slide towards a ravine along the way. One time, Dad brought me with him when he and his colleagues went for a swimming. Dad threw me into the water and found my arms caught around a banana trunk. I kept seeing myself drowned every time I wade into the waters since. Childhood carried on with my mom’s instruction of borrowing books from her classroom to read at home. I began to appreciate books. Mom tried to have me in her class but I was sent out always for my unruliness pulling other girls’ hair and taking away other kids’ stuffs. Then Mom asked me if I wanted to stay at E-engan with my maternal grandparents and have my school there. So I enrolled as first grade schooler. It was fun because my neighbors were my classmates then turned playmates. I got to know about patintero, tumbang-preso, Chinese garter, hide-and-seek and the endless chases round the plaza. I got to taste tsitseria, to buy two caramel candies for just twenty-five cents, and to climb up the walls for Lolo’s or Lola’s coins. I got to know how to do laundry from Lola. I got to sleep-over with my neighbors watching over a television drama even though Lolo and Lola had TV. I got to be reprimanded for not going home for a night or for going home late past six. I got to be left home alone and asked a friend to sleep with me for the freak of ghosts. I got to cut class for going with friends to pick Job’s tears in the fields to make necklaces and bracelets, chased by cattle, stepped into the pool of mud and gone home with dried mud all over me. I became a Twinkle Scout and we went to Agadangan, about three kilometers from the main community, to visit the senior scouts who had their camping along the rolling hills. We got a nice picture with the historic Tirad Pass as our background.  I got to eat with neighbors not only because there was a birthday party but for the sake of being friends. I got adored being good in spelling bees but mocked by weakness in math. By mid-year, Mom’s younger sibling with her wife, Auntie Gena and their son Bonbon moved into the house. With an auntie around, I no longer washed my clothes. I saw in her how she patiently and almost daily dusted the house. The next school year, my younger brother moved into the house and went to the same school where I was going. When I came from school, I was saddened by the sight of my brother feverish and vomiting and reminded me the elder sibling I was. No worries though for the presence of a caring auntie. Childhood was never as carefree as before. I got to climb the guava trees at the front yard, ate with gusto up the tree and only got down with wheals all over me.  Auntie prepared me a tub of warm water with alcohol to sterilize the wheals and then rubbed me with salt all over. I do not understand up to now but I remember how I got mad with Auntie for no reason and irritated her and much more irritated when she showed no control over me. I cried for hours when Mom asked me to say sorry to Auntie. I felt I was so bullied enough with Mom’s pinching so I had to mumble the words, “I am sorry, Auntie. I won’t do it again,” in between sobs. That school grade was how I got to appreciate a teacher and was afraid we would lose her when she said we strip the room decors and clear the room. Only to find out, there was only a repainting of the classroom done. It was also the year when I met this second-degree cousin named **|**|\|. Her parents brought along with them their own desk when they moved to our school. She was so amiable and was the one to introduce me to her favorite game Chinese Checker. She was amazed when I beat her thinking it was my first time to play the game. The next school year, Mom told us to pack our things and we went back to Sumadel.

The first rating period was almost over when my parents told us we were to move out for they had another work stations. We occupied our family house still undergoing finishing. I enrolled at the elementary school nearby as third grade schooler with my younger brother Jamjam as first grade schooler. With the teacher as a relative and my parents her colleagues, I felt I was privileged. Yet I found myself being hard up in expressing myself. I was so shy and nervous in speaking up and performing before the class. There was this instance during our music class when I was all good rehearsing at my seat just to shriek upon volunteering as first performer. I was awarded the first honors at the end of the school year. I climbed the stage to receive the award with my arms awkwardly tucked between my legs feeling like running and hiding somewhere. I felt so saved when Lolo from somewhere appeared and walked upstage to hang my medal. When I had thoughts about the whole thing, I can not do away with reminiscing of how Lolo was to me during my younger years. My dumb-bells and sticks for ground demonstration and my pencils sharpened were out ready. The guavas from ricefields and bread treats were never equaled by any pasalubong. My Lola’s reprimands were walled off by Lolo. I have Lolo in my memory so clear always when I remember his cup of coffee at breakfast and pour it over his fried rice while Lola gave us a disagreeing look  and would say, “You better eat this mixed weed tops for a stronger body.” It was hard to bring her cooking to my mouth when Lolo’s teeming coffee scent overpowered Lola’s menu, more so with the bitter bittergourd.

I found a friend in ,|**|\| of whom I had my First Communion together but I was not able to get my certificate. I woke up early that time with the ringing of the bells and Christmas song played from the church but only disappointed when the house was dark. I knew my parents had no plan of accompanying me get the certificate during the scheduled Misa de Gallo. ,|**|\| had the confidence I wished to have. During the wake of my Uncle Ton, she encouraged me to sing with her so we did. Time flew so fast and I was promoted to grade four. My confidence began to build up with my adviser grooming me a questor for a science quiz bee. A bit of confident, I and a classmate tried our luck during the District Fair. I landed third while my co-questor fourth. While I was hurdling with my academics, Dad’s strict disposition kept disturbing me. I envy my classmates staying later while we had to get home for our assigned home chores. Each of us has/her own list of duties posted along the stairway to be accomplished daily.

During my fifth grade, we lost the master key and everyone went looking around for it. Dad was so mad. We walked pathways meeting people who could have heard how ill his temper was.  

As part of growing up, I also had friends but I learned that people who I considered friends could be the root of my downfall. Because of what I considered friendship, I was involved in forced entry of our classroom. The exact scene was my friend barged in thru an unlocked window and opened the door for me. I took the broken sickle for me to repair to be used for our daily weeding on the school ground. That was Friday then. The next Monday, I heard rumors classrooms had been entered, ball pens and some stuff were stolen but the worse thing was the record book of our math teacher was mutilated. Of course, we were brought to the guidance office. My greatest fear that time was meeting the school principal who happened to be my dad but thanked goodness for Dad was out of town. I was so enraged by my friend who did not spoke up. I found out after that the next day, my friend with a companion did the mess. When I got home after meeting up with the teachers, I was so nervous of Dad knowing his temper. But less than I knew my teachers, they did not let know of my Dad of the incidence. I returned the sickle to the owner and even thanked me for repairing it.

I do not want to think about it, but the incidence affected my class standing. I settled for the second honors. Schoolmates who overheard but did not know the whole truth of the story thought I was this wholesome teachers’ kid gone bad. The school year was so depressing more so counting my disappointment when I was to represent the district on the provincial science fair. But because my coach woke up late, we were not able to catch the early Bontoc trip. My coach and I ended up in a relative’s wake.

For the summer, my Dad decided it was Mom’s turn to have her doctorate degree. So Mother and I moved closer to the city while Dad and my siblings stayed. Summer had been so busy as I remember when my parents packed things with the basin, brooms and pails. I learned they were chasing dreams having masteral and higher degrees. The place was called La Trinidad. It was the same place we used to be a year before and the other year but a kilometer further. La Trinidad has these hanging bridges I did not find from other places I had been. I shivered crossing and shivered more when more people passed by and put on more weight and motion on the bridge. The swaying really scared me and I had to stop in mid-way. I was a bit groggy from the seven-hour trip from home and I was carrying a heavy luggage. An acquaintance tried to help me but Dad stopped her.

I had my computer tutorial for Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays to while time. I remember my sister was there from Auntie who brought her along as playmate for our younger cousins and dropped her at the boarding house. My sister and I just came from my tutorial center and were surprised, so surprised to see our brothers sitting by the door looking like beggars. My mother was so apprehended to see them around. It was a drama running away from the wrath of an ill-tempered and strict father. My mom had to quit her education and that was our last summer in La Trinidad.

That summer confused me. When I had my menarche and I imagined I was wounded without knowing or sick of something. Mom was away then to accompany my siblings back home that she could finish her summer classes and I was left under the care of a kind bunkmate. I saw how  a thoughtful person my grateful mom was when she handed a commercially crafted thank-you card to my two-day nanny. I cannot remember well how the arrangement was that summer but I remember it was the first time the whole family was out of town together. We went to see my mom’s sister and her family in La Union. We had a family luncheon and a swimming and left at the same day.

For the last year of my elementary grades, being an academic achiever, it was like I was responsible for leading a team for the intramurals. The time we went upstage for the cheering exhibition, I went speechless and motionless as I eyed on the team’s muse, who was oozing with confidence, yelling and dancing beside me. Confidence was hard to earn but I thanked my classmates who believed in me. During our PE subject, I found it hard to hit the volleyball but encouragement rained on me. Surprisingly, I served straight more than five. I was no good in sports but with the shortage of players, I was forced to get inside the court. When I moved out, I could not remember I hit a ball. During the zonal athletic meet, every pupil was there to watch the games. I heard my English teacher to get ready for a spelling bee but was disappointed when it was cancelled. With exhausted few athletes for the throwing events, being around, I was chosen to complete the three throwers. What did the neophyte athlete in me said? I landed third place. When Dad knew of this, he tried to train me with the stones in the front yard so with my younger siblings thinking they could be me. I knew it was mere luck that I had that chance of throwing event place. Three days before the graduation rites, the class adviser handed me a piece of paper to memorize. Little did I know that it was the valedictory address?  On my big day, my mother said she would be there. Mom asked for an adobo from a neighbor for she was not able to cook the earlier. There was an ice cream and pancit for the celebration. My friend’s mother had this warmth towards me giving me a hundred peso during the recession. There was no Dad that day so I had the freedom of house hopping with my co-graduates. It was a day I longed to have being me with no Dad  to restrain me from things I wanted to do of which to laugh loud, giggle, tell stories and it was all fun. The confidence leveled up. The batch parted ways for each choice of school.

Hoping to get into a science high school, I took examinations. I passed the preliminary examination but failed to make it to the final. So I had to make a choice between a trade school in town and a nearby Catholic school.

Dad finally enrolled me in the private school. I moved forward to a more tedious high school. New and more classmates and teachers. Campus crushes. Tight academic competition.  The confidence I earned gradually leveled down until it hit zero. I remember this performance during the Buwan ng Wika Celebration. Surely we practiced well. But I turned paralyzed upstage. It was good it was a chorus that I looked less stupid.  I settled for the third honorable mention or the fifth honors at the end of the school year. Lolo was the one who pinned the ribbon for the last time.

During the summer, while Dad was away with scouting, we went to La Union to see my uncle’s widow and family. It was an evening of catching up when I sat near an auntie. She noticed my chubbiness and I did not like the way she said things. Well, I have this stocky body. I have perceived myself then as fat.

Then school year opened. I felt it was the lowest of my life. I felt fat. I was no longer the cream of the crop but a trying hard status climber. I dressed different from my female classmates. I felt so sick. I sometimes want to prick my eyeball and let them pop out with the pain somewhere in my head. I felt nauseatous and would feel well after I throw up. It was not like the pain I had been when I was in my elementary grade when for consecutive years; I would be hospitalized for my respiratory infection. I was caught by a classmate of having stolen her English notebook. Notebooks then were a portion of points. A friend and I planned to hide the notebook but ran away leaving me alone with the theft.  From that time on, I never spoke with that friend who was also the very same person who I was with during my elementary when we broke in a classroom. I vowed never to make friends with her again. So I found another friend in Ruby, the fairest person I have ever met and of good voice. I received no academic distinction that year and it was when I heard things from Dad. Like where had my brains gone to? Summer was more depressing when I got sick. This time, I was not hospitalized but tended at home. It was so crystal clear when I stormed out of the house with the bout of convulsion. I saw my father who was in a devilish form shooing me. I ran to the street but my strength was not able to carry me to where I wanted to be. Earlier just after lunch, mom told me to stay put for they would be away for a while to see her siblings who came home to see the old folks. The fear that has built up in me for years made me imagine things. Being left with Dad would be horrible. My mom’s sibling, Uncle Yam, found me along the street with my dad’s single slipper on. The temperature outside seemed to cooled me down and the last thing I thought was I was back in my bed.

Soon third year opened. I gained another bestfriends in my two Tagalog friends. The fondness in boy bands added as de-stressing on my part. Westlife’s Bryan became an illusion boyfriend. 90s was a craze for the birth of boybands. The campus would greet me a good morning about Westlife, A1, Backstreet Boys and so on. I swore I kept photocopies of the publication about each groupie, mostly on Westlife. I tell you how a single new mag in town circulates among self-confessed fanatic of who and who at the principal’s office where the first photocopier of the school was. The owner would redeem the soiled mag weeks after it slipped from the hands of seniors down to the freshmen. A close friend crafted a scrapbook of cut outs and clippings with handwritten biographies of my number one craze – Westlife. That brought me my teen’s widest grin ever. The next thing came were a roll of posters that found their way as wallpapers. A gaze on my Westlife wall would catch me in a web of reverie – dating my fantasy boyfriend Bryan Mcfadden. But it was not all about being a sworn swooner over a cute guy for through delirious screaming, I saw a diversion from my high school’s timeline of finding myself. The friendship I discovered was flambouyant after one reconciliation and another. No speaking term with a friend-classmate since grade three was hard within the four-walled classroom. Growing up with a disciplinarian father with restrictions confined us at home if we were out from school. The mirror played a stylist in sorting my wardrobe for a confusion to some that I was looking more of a man. I added sleepless night-to-dawn going OC (obsessive-compulsive) over homeworks when I was losing being-the-crème-of-the-crop. I delved into binge eating and starving after aunts’ you-are-one-kid-of-fat-unlike-your-cousins. I silenced my curious thoughts of soliciting experiences of BF-GF relationships. Mother would hush me with uninterested gestures when I hinted talks about crushes. Left then for me were girls gushing about who was the hottest boy and the strata of debates. It occurred that it is him – Bryan Mcfadden who sprung me up from broken hearts. K, one of my Tagalog friends encouraged me to be at peace with J whom I get estranged for months. I tried to but her lies fed me up. Intramurals was always one of my hyped days when I got to wear a minishort for the cheering, forget about academics, going to school late, wearing civilian and watch my basketball star player. |?*|3,/ who knew about my basketball star was not there to watch with me since she transferred to another school. I volunteered for the poster-making area but I was not able to due to my indoor games of scrabble and boggle. I felt I was always the most trying hard person in class but my classmates did not lose hope in me having me as a school officer. There was this one person who never appreciated my works and seemed to mock my art works for the classroom. I felt so inferior and so I shied away from her until when she and her friends thought that I was the anti in the class. One time, a friend invited me in her birthday. Her mom was so fond to see me and even invited me to sleep over. Since it was an elderly who said so I stayed overnite. It was where I first tasted a beer. Upon taste, I spurt it back into the glass disliking the taste. I wondered how teens get addicted with drinking spree with such taste.

Soon I was in my senior year. Tumultuous year ever so I thought. A transferee created buzzes all over the campus. Said they, he was overly charming and talented. I had one mainstay crush for four years in high school. I had two others but I think they were purely part of going with friends’ giggles. Speaking of this mainstay crush of mine, this campus figure was a tiger in the basketball court. He was tall and with mestizo looks. Her sister knew how I like him but had to forget him when he graduated. Back to this charming and talented transferee I was talking about, he tried to win my heart with his mushy song composition. His friend said he was serious about me. I did not care whether he was serious or not but all that I wanted for him to do was to stop pestering me. I was afraid my parents would know of it. I shied from him until classmates knew and started bad mouthing me. I felt used. We parted ways not in good terms. While the thing was going around the campus, I tried shifting the minds of my friends. Until, the circle of friends shrank. Said my Tagalog friend, I was a voracious eater. It was blown out of proportion and we did not talk to each other. My reason for getting mad was that it could have been okay if she could have talked straight to my face but I just let things got cool. Then I got a misunderstanding with this other Tagalog friend. I was shocked to hear her say in a loud voice with classmates around, “Ang totoo nga niyan e ayoko dito sa Mountain Province,” with her finger pointing to the ground. The situation grew bigger when I wrote to her saying things including how I envy her conversation with our male teacher. I really did envy not only her but all classmates close to the faculty members because I myself could not start a conversation with them. It was a mistake for mistaking how I was snubbed when I greet this male teacher. I knew I had a long-standing grudge with this teacher for he was the reason when I was called to her wife’s table for telling people that he was drunk while in class. That was last year.  It was an older schoolmate who told me she really smelled gin and with red eyes one time he went to class. I mentioned it to Mom and mentioned it also to a colleague who happened to be a friend of the teacher’s wife. I had been thinking it was a factor why I was not favored of a high grade in conduct which was a big percentage in our grades. Then this gathering in Teng-ab opened us for reconciliation with my friends. Nearness to graduation was close to an accident to be involved in hearsay again. A classmate told the principal what she heard from her mother of who is a colleague of my mom. My Lolo who was a long-time friend of the school principal got this chance of meeting up with him and at the same time talked about the thing and so was my mom saved. Mom was disappointed with her colleague and so she revoked her friendship with her. Up to now, they do not have their old friendship but in talking terms.

I closed my high school life and moved forward to college. I had a hard time deciding for a course. Months before graduation, it did not matter to me when my fellow seniors flocked the principal’s office for slots of college entrance examination. It was for childhood hospital visits to pediatricians for scabies and chronic respiratory infections that I had the urge for a medical degree but I never find myself to tell Dad.

I had my first air-conditioned bus ride to Laoag for the DOST scholarship qualification examination. Then this PMMA experience all about came. I passed the first screening but it was no soon to say goodbye to a marine dream being disqualified for a height discrepancy. I lacked an inch and a half. Dad and I got back to Baguio, went to see a dentist, as instructed by the PMMA, and had my oral prophylaxis and dentition. For a few months did I try for a hopeful enhanced height, Cherifer did not work in me. “Another try,” said Dad when he came home with a scrap BSU qualifying examination application form. The result came saying I was qualified for the first priority that was Bachelor of Science in Forestry (BSF). It was the choice in the photocopied application form of which I got to only erase the applicant’s name and other important details. Enrolment soon came and it was Dad who accompanied me. It was Dad again who went with me when I moved to the university ladies’ dormitory. Dad put up the mosquito net on the first deck I was to occupy before he left me with garrulous reminders. The sense of independence was nearing. The cynical Dad about me ending a forester left me decisive of shifting to veterinary medicine for the second semester. The College of Forestry (CF) did not allow me to so I spent another semester with my over sixty BSF classmates. I did not want to live the impression of tomboyish with the way I dress up but to look tough equal to that of a cool guy. While a classmate of mine told she was crushing on me, I interested in a senior college mate who like my high school crush was a tiger in the basketball and volleyball courts. The teen craze I had with him brings me smiles oftentimes.

Mere acquaintances turned instant friends with their confidence in me. I have the face but not the body, I know, to be a beauty contender. Kuya opened the idea for me to fill up for the freshman’s slot. I hired a gay beautician and fancy clothes for the big night. Winning second runner-up out of four was not a bad experience. Another CF memory that would sound cute was when I posted a Valentine message for an instructor I looked up to. A senior friend told me how he reacted to the anonymous message saying, “I know her.” With mysterious effect of greet exchange with him along the corridors was one reason for my endorphins.

       CF to CVM life was not an easy as starting in CF. I sought for summer classes and I had my first bout of DVM sting in my biochemistry and zoology classes. My Biology instructor inspired me with his good news of me having the highest grade in class.

Moving on to being a sophomore, I had my irregular classes with different courses and year levels that had me a hard fix for schedule. I learned to tabulate my class schedule after I missed three laboratory exercises for the botany class. My instructor so understood and told me not to get messed up again. The two sections of quite a number were cut down to a smaller number with the result of the National Veterinary Admission Test (NVAT). The passing of NVAT meant more twists in pursuit of my DVM degree. White uniforms, pile of thick books, skeleton and formalin stuffs made us sound “the who” in the campus. CVM’s acquaintances in hotels became both an advantage and disadvantage. An edge in socialization but an ache in our pockets. Sleepless nights in due of anatomy, extra allowance for photocopies of references and a lot of laboratory exercises to color and label earned me endorphins at minimum (so my pictures tell me) and weak immunity. I had visits to doctors for ear infection, cough, poor eyesight and body pains. Thanks to the ear prophylaxis, antibiotics, mucolytics, eyeglasses, muscle relaxants and pain relievers. I was then in my second proper year when I tried for a bloody hit of “P.” Pharmacology delayed me for a year. I could not help but compare my elementary and high school and college when I never had a grade of a line of seven. In CVM, INCs are being prayed for as enough. It was in anatomy where I did dusting of an office with fellow students who had the same INC to while time as my instructor thought for a completion. It was her kindness that she let us brought home a series of questions to be answered and be submitted the next day.

                                         

My 5 in pharmacology was another story from which both good and bad things rooted. I was not excused from cynical Dad’s words. With less subjects, I added the Student Catholic Action (SCA) to Mountain Province Students Organization (MPSO). I did not shine in MPSO because of little time I dedicated. With SCA, I met young people with the desire of serving God thru church, campus and community services. I stopped going to non-Catholic churches with my friends and stuck with SCA. SCA introduced me to friendship with seminarians. I did not escape one seminarian’s charm and went crazy with him in my illusion for four years! I gave him a Christian book as a graduation present and planned to give him the 18K gold watch I got from a family exchange gift. Not until when I learned he had been steady with a co-SCAn. I erased the thought that his call one time would be the beginning of a first boyfriend. When he learned I knew he had a GF, we stopped texting each other so was I seeing his sister for a bonding.

A movie and dinner and an overnight stay at the seminary with priest friends created in me an exhibitionist. I became more pro with sleep-overs with my girlfriends. It is the thing my mom was against with when I was high school. The courage with sleep-overs was, of course, when Dad was out of town when it was only Mom I had to deal with. An exhibitionist that I was, I agreed for a sneak at a bar. My friend said it was nice to see Ms. Lourdes Fangki, the famed OPM artist so I got to see her personally. Along with Ms. Fangki’s guesting were a cloud of smoke and smell of liquor inside the bar. It was past two in the morning when we got home. I spent a week in my friend’s house in the province without my parents’ knowing. I ventured for networking business but did not pursue it. Dorm mates who believed in me had me as the vice president for the Ladies’ Dormitory Association (LADORA). The back-breaking earth-moving for our activity reminded me of Kulong where Dad involved us in the making of a pit for a sewage. The next year, I was enrolled as fourth year again with my second take of pharmacology. I was reunited with Salin in the class. I met Salin a year ago when I had with her statistics. We found fond of each other even when she moved a sixth year and I had to remain for basic medicine failure. Maybe, I expected too much of myself. Many claimed that the last two years of DVM would be chicken, it dawned on me having the subject twice. For the next summer, I decided not to get home but look for a job. I experienced how it was to live on my own. At first I considered my second 5 a curse but it turned out a blessing. I was elected as co-chairman of the SCA. One time, I processed an activity permit at the Office of the Students’ Affairs. I saw a Saleng issue, the official student publication of the CF in the office and found an old friend’s column talking about our batch so I kept the paper for myself. I decided for a second chance with entry in the Venerable Lady Veterinarians’ Sorority. When I was affirmed a Lady, I focused on passing my third attempt for the Civil Service Professional Career Examination http://www.bazics.net/2010/12/civil-service-october-2010-car.html. God was so good to grant me my desire. Catching up, I worked for the sorority attending supreme meetings. The following year, I was elected the second highest position and by God’s grace, also the Supreme VLV Recorder. Chances did slip me for my entry of a poem that granted me to hoot as an Owl. I became the photojournalist and feature editor of The Gray Owl (TGO), the official student publication of the CVM. Girl scouting was fun the previous year and the mention of it again for a second get-away stirred me excitement but was called off for due reasons.

Summer internship marked nearness to graduation. My group had Batangas for first station for swine practice. It happened my groupmates met with another school for on-the-job training. I had a mutual understanding with a guy with sharp Indian features. I was two years senior him and thru text we called it game but sooner had to call it quits.

We moved to Pangasinan for the poultry station. My partner opted for a night duty. I was so amused with this poultry boy who grew fond of me with his daily biscuit treats until our third week. I could have chosen to decline giving my phone number but ended giving. His consistent texting was bothering but I know he longed for a female friend so I entertained him. Until he tired over unreplied texts.

Clinical duties and thesis would be fatiguing but I accepted the responsibilities of being the editor-in-chief (EIC) of TGO, cell leader for SCA, Grand Lady of VLV Zeta Chapter and Supreme Exchequer of supreme VLV. My last year in CVM was so tiresome but blessings were counted. My thesis was successful, the Midland Courier published two of my Animated Me articles, TGO released two issues for the school year, Zeta VKLV was cited as one of the Most Improved Organization of the year and I received two recognition certificates from OSA being the EIC of TGO and Grand Lady of VLV-Zeta.

To iron things out for graduation, I hurdled another INC for special parasitology and I was glad to make it.

My sister and I finally graduated, went for review, took the boards and glee! We passed! www.pvma.com.ph/stories/7105 http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:IKkCt3Gk5xsJ:www.inquirer.net/2012-nurse-licensure-examination-g-i+&cd=9&hl=en&ct=clnk Passing the board was of mixed emotions. After two-month review in a review center, I set my social network accounts off. When I got home for a self-review, I did not know how to start. Salin gave me her bound reviewers. I had rims and rims of questionnaires from the fraternity and sorority. The small block we were occupying became a mess of tucked papers every corner. I had been asking Cara out after her board examination escaping the gruel thoughts about my upcoming licensure examination. Boating, biking and afternoon walks were regular until when Mom came over. When she got back to the province, I decided to go with her. With three weeks left, I really had to stick with my 4am to 10pm reading to finish up the questionnaires. Five brothers from the fraternity texted we travel together to Manila. With them, I felt babied. I felt no worries being got lost to where were going to, we travelled back together to Baguio and dined together after which they escorted me home. After two nights of hoping, the board results came. The brothers who were with me congratulated me but I hesitated to eagerly text for I did not know what to say. I said no less than my thanks.

You may really call me Ms Madness. I chose not to be close to ,|*|) not in the most obvious ways but I always found myself in a cat and mouse situation. The first time I met him, I knew he charmed me. Not until when the bus incidence happened that left me a bad impression of him. I don’t want to see things in complication to take hardly his bland look when he got aboard the same bus my sis and I were in and passed us for a seat at the back and to be delusional for me to think of him impossibly not looked how heavy the luggage I was readying to alight from the bus that I almost got tripped yet I did not get his attention. We were the seniors and they were the juniors then, and at times, we both had our duties same days, same time. ,|*|) and I had to attend this patient and all that was happened was I backed out, gave ,|*|) the stitching materials saying I forgot to stitch wounds. Simple sutures to be forgotten? It was the quickest reason I thought of to escape quivering from the boy’s presence!!! Two years after, he tried his charm again. I sensed he wanted to escort me but I refused. From then on, I noticed how he became distant again. When we happen to meet somewhere, he bowed his head not trying to look me in the eye, said his courtesy and walked away. While it was true I gave him frowns, which I think was light reminders on my part, when I heard his mischief. I had been wanting to know him more but I was disappointed to see him absent or leave our gatherings without my knowing. Usually, there were drinking sessions during socials but I never saw him jam with us. So I was surprised to know he was one alcohol regular. I remember one time when I told him he was going thin for the thought he was into the serious academe. Then popped this |*\/ thing. Madam *|) one day abruptly called me to talk about something to find out it was no TGO agendum. She wanted me to speak to |*\/ as a sis regarding her rampant absences. |*\/ joked around with my initial confrontation until I had every bit of the puzzle from her stories in installment. Bottomline was she can not move on with ,|*|) who first took her so she went from &*'/ to  &*'/to make her forget ,|*|). Sisses and I had for us a plus disgust with ,|*|) who is a |~*$+*|?'$ $*|\|, a (|-,|?*$+**|\| at that. It was wrong to side over |*\/. In the end, I had to set aside my reason ,|*|) took advantage over a younger sis. I knew letting a guy speak of his mischief was beyond my expectation. It was urgent when I decided to go home so I took cut trips. I tried |~*+ to forward ,|*|)’$ number hoping so he might help me. It was only the next day ,|*|) texted. I saw no reason to entertain him but I thought creating a connection to him might lead me to know him more and would soon make him speak. Thus I would get both sides of story.  To add a thrill, I had this tripping teasing Ate $*|\/| about ,|*|) liking her. The thing was here came (|,* and I do not want her be thrown into a relationship that would get her wasted.