half-baked posts

Here's a story for you. It's a rather self-centered one at that, but maybe you could derive some amusement out of it, because in this story (as in many others), I am a freak, and people do love their freaks.

So it's a story about my eyes. The thing about my eyes is that they are the color of the ocean after a storm. KIDDING! Like most other Filipinas and Filipinos, my eyes are the color of the grime that sticks to the bottom of your shoe when it's rainy out. The real thing about my eyes is that they don't match up. Not just in shape too, but in the way they move. Gross, right? I unwittingly freak people out sometimes when my pupils aren't focused on the same point.

I wasn't actually aware that they didn't always move the same way until a couple of months ago, when my good chum Rap pointed it out to me as I tried crossing my eyes.

Tonight I wanted to see just how disgusting I looked when I try crossing my eyes, and lo and behold, it is pretty darn creepy.

The second picture is my best attempt so far.

Other things I am physically incapable of doing: trilling my R's. Touching my toes without bending my knees. Cartwheels.

Even in grade school, when a person is supposedly at his or her most physically active, I could not do any of the things that made a girl "a girl": jack stones. Chinese garter. Patintero. SPLITS. !%$#@ing splits. They were the cause of all my anxieties and insecurities as a kid. All the other girls improved their splits over time, and eventually, even the unbendy girls were able to anchor their butts on the floor, even if only for a few seconds. I, on the other hand, was the unbendiest of unbendy. I was a hoverer and could never make my arse meet the ground no matter how much I practiced.

I sucked (and still suck) at sports. I couldn't catch a ball. I couldn't dodge a ball. I was awful. As a kid I used to just ignore my athletic inadequacies and think "Eh, at least I'm good at a lot of other things." But when you're on the playground with other kids who only really care about running and jumping and sweating, you can't expect them to go, "Let's pick her for our team! She's good at Math!" or, "She's totally advanced in S.R.A.! I wanna be on her team!" Noooooooo. The horrible reality is that only the fastest, strongest, stretchiest kids get to win.

It is for this reason that I think the playground is a terrible, scary world, not at all child-friendly in any way. I bet the playground is the true origin of all bad qualities you see in people everywhere. Gloria Macapagal Arroyo probably learned to cheat her way into politics  because cheating was the only way she could win as a kid. The poor girl probably couldn't touch a volleyball without flinching. And I bet Adolf Hitler was a wimpy, skinny lad who spent thirty minutes crying in the boy's room because he always lost at patintero.

. . .
How long ago did you realize that I wasn't going anywhere with that?
Anyway, it's picture tiemz!

Last Week

Story #1. REN AND KARL'S JOINT BIRTHDAY! :D

It was at Jollibee! Yes, an actual kiddy party. Unsurprisingly, it was a lot of fun. I think the only lame thing about that day was when someone didn't share the bag of frosting with me when I wanted to try putting the frosting on Ren's birthday cake. :| How rude! 

Happy birthday Ren. I hope you got as much joy out of the cake as the person who iced it (not me). 

Also: first NSTP insertion! Played with kids. I was hesitant at first because I don't speak good Tagalog, but I was really happy at the end of the trip because I made some adorable little (human) friends anyway who didn't seem to mind that I didn't talk a lot. (I have a really long entry about this in my Drafts folder but I'll just leave it there for a while.)

This Week! 

Film Literacy Classes team with Joyce Bernal! 

Okay I'm getting tired here. -_- Sorry if this has been an incoherent and unsatisfying post. Go check out the Folio! People have been posting again!