Lumaktaw sa pangunahing content

My HRH Tale



     Coming home? Home to where high school life empties your memory bank.
     Honestly, I don't have a very happy high school life. My heartaches were three-fourths of my circle of fun. My first year diary told about excitement. I was excited about the new everything--uniform, classmates and teachers. I can picture the very first day I stood before class introducing myself -- my name, age and hobbies! More classmates came in turn up front. I remember my seatmate who found one classmate's flared up nose funny while talking. I came to imagine if my nostrils flared up the same and my seatmate reacted the same. I'd like to remember that she got to be amused and that there was no hint of bullying. At least, she was attentive. I felt that all I had was fussing over things that didn't even concern me. Add to things like these was the stiff competition over grades. I developed a bigger resentment on math subjects rooting that it was my Achilles' heel. My grandfather wasn't exempted with my unhappiness of the death of my first-honor status. He jokingly exclaimed to trade my honorable mention ribbon to the first honor's medal that day we were on stage alongside with the other honor students. 
     Sadness was really all over me when my chubbiness had its game on me. I was no exemption being picked on even if I was not that extra size. And the list of negative things went on. I did not excel on physical sports even with my sporty physique. Beauty contests were just for me to watch on and bet on who would take the crown.
     My line was always, "Why does my parents, particularly my father, not allow me to like party with friends or have us less work on weekend for us to have a bigger social life?" Calluses were real on my palms not just on my feet for new shoes beacuse of Saturdays'and Sundays'and holidays' weeding of our yard.
     Friendship was flambouyant coming to the point of no-speaking terms for days or weeks. Tears had their role in our melodramatic girlfriendship mended during retreats. I came from a Catholic school where religious retreats were occassionally conducted. 
     Envy  was my biggest sin then. I wrote a letter to my bestfriend saying how envious I was about her closeness to someone I wished I also had the same closeness with. The commotion reached the faculty. Anger was also a frequent commitment. I hated my teachers for the feel that they never favored me. I hated my friends' backstabbing. I hated my parents' strictness. I hated an aunt who said how fat I was. I hated my classmates who acted superior over me.
     The thinnest slice of my high school life's delights were a mix of screaming over my favorite boyband on daily or weekend countdown, screaming over a crush playong on the basketball court and screaming on our dogs' quarrelling. 
    And my high school life stage drew its curtain to end.
     High school alumni  homecoming, anyone? If work schedule permits, then I may go. 


Mga Komento

Mag-post ng isang Komento

Mga sikat na post sa blog na ito

World Teacher's Day

   For today’s sake of celebrating teachers, let me get down my memory lane circa 1994.  Ms. Florida Dao-ines was my grade 1 teacher in the then Kayan Community School. I thanked that I was bit of a reader so I was spared from her famed stick. Of course, my hearing wasn’t excused of her voice harping on the day’s if not yesterday’s lesson. Oh, I could see her small figure with her short curly hairdo passing by my grandparents’ place because she used to visit her brother on the next house. Ms. Dao-ines taught us room maintenance the organic way— scrub off graffiti on wooden desks with sandpaper tree leaves, sweep off dirt, whip the floor with banana leaves and finish it off with coconut husk. On my second year with my grandparents going as second grader, I had Teacher Jeaneth Juan. She was my first troop leader in GSP and Agadangan became a vivid memory of the Scout Movement. Enamored with her not-so-strict classroom bearing, my classmates and I were saddened when on...
Mag-post ng isang Komento
Magbasa nang higit pa

WOMAN-ified ME

I was born a woman but ended up acting the opposite. Clumsiness and its cousins in the thesaurus is what I am. Finesse goes unsaid and unheard in my world. I preferred oversized tees over fitting blouses. I refused figure-flaterring dresses for loose pants. I would choose a paintless face even being merged with a bin of all-made-up pretties. But I knew I am a woman inside. So are the secret feelings that have silently died. It was only me who knows everything of what-really-is. It was hard shifting to finer moves. Oh graceful me in sweat! I hate being with someone who I cannot see myself. Because to me, gaudiness is parallel to fun. Not long after, I’ve been to stores of pallets. So the smudged me emerged. Little by little, I’ve added garments I thought I can never wear. These changes of seeing ourselves that can improve us.   
4 na komento
Magbasa nang higit pa

International Friendship Day

July 30. International                F-R-I-E-N-Dship Day. This gift called friendship.      A casual hi and hello tauted to sharing of one's favorite hobby over a cup of coffee and another then another... A bump of elbows in a crowded pizzeria... In a workplace where stiff personality takes its mellow... A mutual liking of a celebrity something as superficial as that... A friend who can be as funny as nasty when mad, who can be garrulous and meek at the same time, who can be your stylist and critic, who can be your kind shoulder and keeper of your darkest secret... Friends spell an array of fruits, colors and season.      Here's a little story of the net-manic me...      Long before Mark Zuckerberg was out with his Facebook was this Friendster that hooked me to staying up long hours (sometimes even longer than doing homework) in an internet shop. Then Friendster was to become...
Mag-post ng isang Komento
Magbasa nang higit pa