dropping

I'm typing this as I wait for mom to finish taking a bath.

Dropping two subjects, I taste a bit of failure and release. Sure, the Archeo I'd miss, but not the Chem, since our prof even with his credentials wasn't really a good teacher. Surprisingly mom was okay with it, even joking that life in UP wasn't complete without dropping/failing. And yes I think she's right--we do learn the most important things in life outside the classroom, and in this case, in leaving the classroom. To learn that we'd all fail once in a while, but we have to move on smiling though deep inside you feel really horrible.

So I ended up looking for some short courses (since I would end up with just one class on Tuesdays and Fridays, and mom didn't want that) and I'll probably take one on Photoshop at Informatics, something I really wanted to do for so long but always kept on being railroaded by other more pressing stuff like advance classes and such. And there's the issue of my other subjects on Thursday as well.

Oh well. There's a time for everything, and everything a time.

of casts and napkins--a girlish rant

My cast got yanked off earlier after tempers flew--apparently those clinic staff didn't list my appointment, and my ortho who was currently down with the flu had to drive from Bulacan to Megamall just to remove it since we're already there, which shows how good as a doctor he really is. And yes that was a very long run-on sentence, but since I'm rushing I'm going into my "hell with grammar" mode again. With that cast off, all I have to contend with is 2 weeks' worth of theraphy (one on Wednesday again, which again removes my play/work time, and means that I'll be back to almost sleepless nights again).

And to contend with my period which conveniently decided to start today, too. x_x Since earlier my foot was still in the cast, after a quick shower, I was about to dress up when I noticed (since I was still unable to walk that morning and I was just in a towel) that there were no napkins around. My grandmother, of course, didn't have any, and my mom and aunt were both upstairs.

So I had no choice but to bloody yell my heart out for either my mom or aunt, and to my utter frustration, my mom was still taking a bath and my aunt was just dressing up.

My grandmother came, though, and my grandfather. But since my grandmother wasn't able to climb the stairs (well according to her, but she's well enough), my grandfather asked me what I needed upstairs. And I told him I needed a napkin, forgetting the facts that a) Some men still don't know what those are for and b) My grandfather was born before those were invented, which further complicates the issue. So all I get is a blank stare.

Thank goodness our maid, Ate Mely, comes to the rescue, and she was able to procure not just one but two napkins from my aunt before I had to yell again for napkins and shatter the imagined peace of the neighborhood.

So all's well that end's well, for now. The real battle begins tomorrow, when the deluge of schoolwork drowns me--and I can barely swim.

the simpsons and online gaming

Marge: Wow Moe, you're a troll!
Moe: What? No! My character's supposed to look like me! Why does everyone keep thinking I'm a troll!?

LOL.

sein

I've finally finished his layout--one of the hardest job that I had to do, owing to the fact that the screenies he sent were a bit small. I'll upload it tom., and I hope he likes it.

the isle and the mariner

You discover me one night
emmeshed in white cotton seas
a lone isle.

You, trusting the stars
intuitively and foolishly
like a Mariner of old.

First you chart my every contour,
every ridge, cliff, overhang
Your hands swiftly yet firmly
mapping every nook and cranny.

Then you disembark
and scale my peaks
discovering treasures I've once so hidden
Now, I offer out to you.

As you grow weary
you pitch camp
and sleep soundlessly
upon my bosom.

And though you may leave
at the crack of dawn
to seek out other lone isles
with the stars as your guides

I know you'll return to me
home
a lone isle in these seas of cotton.