Archive for the 'High School' Category

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mean girls week

To end Mean Girls Week, I think it’s appropriate if I share a mean girl story. A story plucked from my own retarded high school past. It’s not a story about skanky bitches calling everybody “sluts” and “whores”. It’s about high school drama, angst, and awkward silences. It’s about me being in jail with a girl named Vanessa.

I went to a Catholic school in Sta. Rosa, Laguna. Canossa School to be exact. A place were dreams are born and hearts are broken. A breeding ground for leaders, jocks, losers, artists, mean girls, and background dancers for noontime TV shows.

izzy trazona

Well hello there, Sexbomb Izzy. How YOU doin’?

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pantryyyyy

Ever have those moments when you felt really, really nostalgic? I’ve had a lot of those before. But never as intense as the most previous one. I went back to my previous company, Convergys Alabang, to take care of some stuff. I expected to be nostalgic about my the 9 months I was there, but I never expected it can go beyond those 9 months. Nostalgia sent me back to as early as high school. Yeah. Weird.

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Sep 25

Quicksilver

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In a few days, I’ll be celebrating my 25th year on Earth. I feel old but I also feel very young. Weird. 25 years. Man. Them’s a lotta years! A lotta stuff can happen in 25 years. And it means a lot of stuff can and will still happen.

It’s nice to look back into the things that happened to me in the past 25 years. I spent my early childhood trapped in a small world of my family and relatives. I was in a Catholic school for most of my childhood. I played with toys imported from the US. I also played with mud I created with the water from our faucet and the soil from our small backyard. I played sports when I was in elementary. I stopped playing it in high school. It took me more than 6 years to realize that I do not mix with sports.

I’ve visited Thailand, Hong Kong, and the US. Technically, I’ve also been to Japan since it was a stop-over to and from the US. I’ve been to Cebu, Palawan, and all over Luzon. It was a great joy and privilege to visit these places. But the best part of these trips is the part where they end. Yes, the best part of a trip for me is when I finally get to go home. I’ve never been big on leaving my comfort zone.

I’m from Sta. Rosa, Laguna. Born and bred. Well, technically, I was born in a nearby town. But basically, Sta. Rosa is where I was raised. I stayed 1 year in Holy Rosary Academy for junior kinder, and after that, it was Canossa School all the way to high school. It’s where I organized a small group of “writers” who were intent on sticking it to The Man. In our case, The Man was the school principal. A nun. It’s where I discovered my talents. It’s where I found out that my talents were not really talents. Creative bursts fueled by hormones is what they are. It’s where I first fell in love and had my heart broken. Or so I thought. Teenagers have a lot of drama in their lives. Punks. High school was the best four years of my life. Until I went to college.

UPLB. Just saying those four letters gives me the feeling of coming home. In UPLB, I got the taste of the “real world”. I found kindred spirits. I found polar opposites. I gained a lot of knowledge. Most of it useless. I made a lot of friends. Only time will tell if they’re for life. I discovered what real love is. And it’s not pretty. I became a leader and a follower. A nice guy and an asshole. A smart thinker and a dumbass. I made love to a few special ladies. I fooled around with a lot more. I swore off alcohol and cigarettes in my early years. I became an occasional alcoholic and a chain smoker in my latter years. I insulted guys who wore braces. I had braces installed a couple of years before I graduated. I almost gave up on my dreams. I’m so glad that I didn’t.

After college, I spent 3 months in a small office working on websites, and 8 months trying to be polite while irate Americans tell me I’m an idiot. I’m not the one who doesn’t know how to turn their frickin’ phones on. Dumb fucks. In a few weeks, I’ll be leaving all that crap behind and do what I want to do. A job that I really want. And it feels so good.

I have lived 25 years of my life and I don’t have the slightest clue what the next 25 will bring. Life is erratic. Liable to sudden and unpredictable changes. Sounds good to me, for I am quicksilver: cool and willful one moment, utterly fragile the next. Okay, that didn’t really make sense. I’ll shut up now before I turn this into one of those stupid Friendster Profile About Me sections.