Researched Hypocrisy

Monday afternoon, it was the last subject of the day and we were all hoping it would be over quickly. The class was on light therapy. The class dragged on. And by the end of it, the teacher had given us assignments to work on.

The teacher made us research on the indications and contraindications of ultraviolet radiation therapy(UVR). Now, I've stated in my previous posts that I am very lazy. Yesterday night was different. And with the hopes on getting better grades and passing, I did the assignment and I did not regret it.

During my research, I learned a couple of things like Pityriasis rosea, Xeroderma Pigmentosum, and Porphyria. The first is indicated for UVR therapy, unlike the other two.

Then there was one that stood out. When I searched for tinea capitum which was included in the list, I clicked the first one. Normally, I would click the one with the wiki page on it, but there wasn't one. The first link was a powerpoint presentataion and I was quick to download it. And to my surprise, I had found my teacher's slides. Only thing was, it wasn't hers.

The powerpoint presentation the teacher had shown to the class was the exact replica to what I had just downloaded, with the exception of the first page. There wrote that it was made by a different person. Question here is now, who really made it.

All the people who had searched the following thing all saw it. There was speculation to who made the presentation. A classmate of mine had said that she already knew that our teacher was stealing slides. My classmates are leaning on the side that our teacher made it, and her slides were stolen instead which is unlikely.

This morning, we met with our teacher again. She was late. Then, she proceeded to consume most of our lunch break with a test. During the test, she used our assignments to validate if we really researched rather than just copy-paste. Knowing the circumstances, the audacity of our teacher to point that out was a little unnerving.

After the test, we exchange papers with our seatmates and checked the papers. On one number, she told us it was wrong, despite the fact that this was found in her notes. A number of my classmates were frustrated, it was found in her notes, after all. When she asked another question, no one in the classroom knew the answer, or they just kept it to themselves. She then blackmailed us. She said that if we did not study, she would not go through the hassle of making a lecture. One might think if she really did.

A lot of my classmates know the issue about the slides. Some got disappointed knowing what she was and some(me) were amused to find out that our teacher was actually a hypocrite. And there was proof.

Watch your tongue.

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It is easier to fight for one's principles than to live up to them.  

                                                                                    - Alfred Adler

Midterm Blues

January 22 marked the end of the second semester midterm examinations. It was a day of mixed emotions. This was the last day of the harder tests, but it was also the day a friend of mine celebrated his birthday.

I, being the lazy person I am, hardly studied. I, also the kind of optimist, hoped that it would be okay. By all accounts, it really wasn't. I, in fact, knew this. Nevertheless, I did not study. Oh, the redundancy.

Physical Therapy, which I am a student of, started off as a laid back course. But by the time we reached the 3rd year, we faced a number of challenges:

First, Gross Anatomy. I particularly did not hate these subjects, learning about all the muscles, bones, veins, arteries, and nerves. Memorization is the key to passing this subject. And unless I read myself incorrectly, I do have quite a good memory. People have said so, not to be too cocky. >:]

Second, Neuroanatomy. The scorn of memorizing where every tract pass, decussate, and/or terminate. The key to passing on this subject was note taking which I am, a note taker. This was not at all applicable to every subject though, but for this subject/teacher it was.

Lastly, everything else. Really, if you've passed Neuroana and Gross, you're good to go. I could not say for my friend, who despite passing Neuroana and Gross, failed everything else. This differs from the usual, passing everything else and failing the top two.

People are quite impressed of me. People, knowing what I am, did not see me as a 3rd year regular student or as I thought so. During tests, most of the time, I am the first to pass my paper. I do not review my answers. This stems from the theory that if I do review, with my answers already written on the answer sheet that is stricly, supposed to be void of erasures, I would just regret answering the wrong one in the first place. But people describe me as a smart person, and although I am lazy, most people were not at all shocked that I made it to the second semester, which makes me a little flattered.

Now, at the top of the 2nd semester, I dared promise myself to be better and not take my subjects for granted. Knowing myself, I did not live up to this. Because of sheer laziness, poor study habits, or just using my free time for anything else, I could not say.

The past few days of the past week, I did not study. Maybe a little information here and there, but never the whole thing. I was happy about the results of the practical exam we took before this. I got a 92.5/100. But when I took the written exam the afternoon directly after, I got depressed. Rough total on my written exam score, 24/80 which is far off from the passing -- not even half.

After the test, joy came in food. My friend had his birthday on Wednesday and celebrated today. It was nice. One of the things that'll always make me happy is food. That coming from a large person is really sad, but true. These days, I get the feeling that I may never make it on the steps of 4th year.

Then again, this is how I felt last semester around Midterms time. You never know. >:]

Inspiration from a Suicide Note

"Get down!!" a civilian yelled.

And without a moment's pause, he crouched down and covered his ears.

A bomb went off. This had been happening routinely for the last couple of weeks. Of course, they did not think light of it. It was a bomb after all. The destruction had already claimed lives. Many of which unknown to him, but many of which were loved dearly by others.

"Thank you!" he shouted.

"We have to look after another," replied the civilian.

"That we do," he nodded in agreement. The ringing in his ear had gotten better. The sound of a bomb exploding are not one of the things you could get used to, nor would you want to get used to it.

The bomb had left a crater on the earth it had exploded on. A piece of paper partially buried caught his attention. He stooped down and shoveled the paper out. The piece of paper had managed to survive, though only barely.

He examined the piece of paper closely. The writing on it and the paper itself showed age. "It's obviously been here before I was born," he thought to himself.

It was. On the bottom, there placed the exact date it had been written. It has since been crossed out by it's writer. The Writer had done such thing because he did not want to be caught. The Writer was a young man who had written the contents of the paper, decades prior to being discovered.

He was not aware of this fact. And despite the dirt made the paper hard to read, he triumphed in doing so. And as he read, he realized that this was a suicide note. Interested, he kept reading until he finished it. He, of course, could not fully finish it. The end of the note read "This was written on March 12, 2011." which was impossible to read.

And so, not affected with what he had read. He'd gone along with his morning and his trip to a nearby convenience store. He had done this every Sunday of his life: go to the convenience store, buy a newspaper and a cup of coffee. He read the headline, paid the cashier, and went on his way home.

When he got home, he placed the cup of coffee and the newspaper on the table.

"Ahh, this coffee has never tasted so good," he said pleased with his cup. The coffee tasted like what it always was. It was ordinary.

He grabbed the newspaper and read the headline again. A tear dropped from his eye. He got his gun and shot himself. He was dead. Blood quickly seeped out of his head. The newspaper was covered in blood, but the bold letters from the headlines could still be read.

It said, "WORLD WAR THREE HAS BEGUN."

He was 24. The Writer is alive and well.

Best. Sinulog. Evar.

January 15, Saturday

It was a slow and boring Saturday morning and afternoon. The worst thing that happened was the very strong rain which caused a flood in the house. I had to remove all the filth and water from the house. Then, a miracle. The rain stopped. But I guess it was just tired 'cause an hour or so later, it rained again. I didn't care though, I was very determined to go out and enjoy the Sinulog weekend.

8:30, Saturday

It was still raining and I had already finished changing. The plan was to meet at 9, and it was already 8:30. I thought to myself that when I got there, they'll be already people waiting on me. It was the Sinulog weekend. So I had the traffic to hopefully delay me and make me late. The traffic was nonexistent and I got there at 9:15(give or take). And the people I had counted on to already be there were absent. Ten 'o clock, the birthday girl arrived and with the other invitees still on their way, we decided to have some coffee first.

est. 11:00, Saturday

The gang proceeded to loft where a couple of bottles of Tanduay Ice, a few shots of Tequila later, the party finally began. We danced the night away until 4:30 on Sunday morning. A pretty wild night. Thank you, Jamie.


January 16, Sunday -- Sinulog


I was awake, having already planned to go to my friends house at 7. With only 2 hours of sleep, I was pretty groggy. To my dismay, my friend woke up at 8 and we left the village at almost 11, time I could have spent sleeping.


Before lunch, we had went to church. During the mass, they ran out of hosts. And my friend was still standing there, the only one not given a host. Everyone tried to hold their laughter, even the priest. It was the highlight of my and the rest of the congregation's morning.


So we ate lunch at my friend's grandmother's house where we planned to meet our other friends. But they never showed. After lunch, I slept, making up for the other night.


We decided to leave the house and find some of our friends outside. We met with some of them at Brew's Point. We had drinks. Everyone had drinks. The street was crowded with people. Everyone was wet, partly because of the rain, but mostly because of the beer. Everywhere you look, you see people's faces obscured with paint.


Everyone was drunk out of their minds. Non-stop partying from 4 - 9pm. The rain could not stop the crowd. It was the best Sinulog ever.

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You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine. Just own the night like the 4th of July. 
                                                                                          - Katy Perry, Firework 

(I don't know what it is about this song. But when it starts playing, everyone jumps up and down. Official Sinulog 2011 song.)

'Tis the season to be noisy.

FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. No shit.

January 14, 2011 is the first night of the Sinulog weekend.  This is the time we celebrate the feast of our dear Sto. Niño. We, Cebuanos, celebrate this every 3rd Sunday of January. And damn I'm excited. Everyone will be in their wildest behavior. People will be asleep, DRUNK, on the streets. Everyone will be covered in paint and temporary henna tattoos.

I may not be wild, but Sinulog will get the best of us. This is the time where partying will be on the MAXIMUM. No roof will keep this party. There will be no going home.

I am, by admission, a little tipsy. Had a couple of drinks earlier tonight. Tipsy because some of the alcohol already went out of my system. Perhaps a couple of hours ago, I was in fact drunk. It did not help that we came from swimming. My eyes are so red from the chlorine. Plus, I can't see straight. 

Before coming home, I had my henna(on my right shoulder) darkened. The asshole that gave me the henna the night prior had a sucky batch, so it didn't come out as good as I'd hoped -- 100 down the fucking drain. Had it darkened -- another fucking 100. Why'd I have it darkened? For one thing, I think it(the design) looks awesome. Two, I didn't want to look like some idiot who had his henna done a week prior.

Other than that, I had another henna put on the right side of my neck. I honestly do not care if my teachers get mad at me. Well, not yet. It's hard to say. It is the midterms next week. I say screw that.

This weekend we party.

PS. about time I return a favor. Visit my friend's blog.
http://michaelbriantina.wordpress.com

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We will ravage the streets. Let's get it on, Cebu.

Birthday Wants and Wishes

Earlier tonight, my friend asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I couldn't answer him. Maybe because I knew what I wanted or because I don't really want anything. My wants are too grand for friends who are students like me, only given allowance for school. Or for parents already trying hard enough to support me and my siblings.

A few of my wants are a brand new laptop, a PS3, a not necessarily brand new car, a gaming desktop computer, and new gadgets like an iTouch or a new cellphone. Wants -- I want them, I don't need them. I really, really want them. Is it because I can't have them that I want them? -- Maybe.. probably. I can't lie and tell myself that I would die without them. But already having them, wouldn't be a problem either.

The things on this list are very expensive. A price tag on the PS3 alone would give you Php 15,000.00 -- games not included. I would love to have the 15,000.00 pesos in my wallet instead; but who's to say I'm not gonna buy the PS3 with it anyway?

There are a few problems with my wants list. The most obvious one, they're too expensive. Two, some of the stuff there, I already have. For example, I have a laptop (the one I'm using to write this blog.) There's things wrong with it, like the keyboard missing some keys and some keys don't work at all. Point to the obvious, I'm not using the keyboard on said laptop, I have a USB keyboard which is a fix -- a cheap fix (and I didn't even buy it.) A brand new car to replace the I car use that isn't even mine. And the cellphone I have right now if fine and working.

Does that make me selfish for having my wants differ so much from my needs? Or is that how wants are supposed to work? Maybe I'm overthinking this too much, but I know somewhere deep down that I'm not wrong. And somewhere deep down, I don't really care.


So I told my friend to get me a shirt. It's not expensive and the Big Man knows I need it.

PS. Thanks ahead, assholes. :D

2011 Resolutions, Substitutions

Yesterday, we welcomed the year 2011. This is the time of year that everyone make resolutions that're probably gonna be forgotten within the next 364 days or so, until we make another set of resolutions and lie to ourselves again. Highschoolers and gradeschoolers dread this time when they go back to school and write about how they had an awesome Christmas break in New York or in a home for old people (Albeit, not the whole time). And how they're looking forward to not writing their resolutions for their teachers to make fun of.

This year, I decided, like I did last year, to be more diet conscious, to be more healthy, whatever the hell that means. And along with that, to be more diligent, to be kinder(?), and to be more yadda, yadda... This year, I'm trying a diet that doesn't include rice to the dinner table, and only dinner. Rice is a staple for Filipino culture. Not eating rice for dinner is hard enough to do already.

Just before typing this, I had dinner which consisted of Pork(I don't have any idea what it's really called, so bare with me.) Eating pork alone just seems boring. But I ate it without rice and somehow I felt better about myself, not for long. My grandmother chose not to eat the unnamed entree she had prepared herself and opted to eat toasted sliced bread with the cream cheese, mixed with garlic and parsley, my sister and I had bought the day before(yesterday). Although I had promised not to eat rice, I ate two slices of the bread and topped it off with the cream cheese. Had I promised myself not to eat rice and bread, I'd have felt guiltier. But I didn't and I wasn't(that much). Although the thought still occurred to me that it wasn't in fact rice, so I was glad.

Making resolutions for the New Year is a not so bad tradition. It makes us help feel better the way we did than last year, hence making us a little more optimistic towards our future -- a little. We all know that all those resolutions you(I) say aren't gonna last the whole year. Well, unless you're really up for it. Which only makes me think what kind of person I am, already thinking that I'd fail with my partly already fail diet plan.
(Not all that fail yet. At least I have that going for me.)

Oh well.

Happy Village New Year

Before the clock struck 12 on New Year's Eve, fireworks were already being used. So before it was even the New Year, the neighborhood was plenty noisy already. This year we chose, or rather just didn't bother, buying fireworks. As fireworks that are of the highest quality are expensive, most are, just recently, illegal. So it seemed pointless on buying fireworks, when everybody else had theirs and we could watch for free.

At this time, my aunt, my cousin and I were outside of our house. Our direct neighbors weren't home, so the street our house was on was free of people, not including us. My aunt suggested that we get inside before 12 o'clock. She also mentioned a far away neighbor firing live guns during New Year. She explained that it was somehow better to be inside -- my aunt spoke too soon.

Saying that we were actually inside our house, we weren't technically behind closed walls. We were in our garage only separated from the outside by a metal gate which had a design that can allow cats leave and enter the garage as they pleased.

Staying in the garage, I sat on a bench that was made of cement(?), my cousin behind me, my aunt looking outside, and my grandmother sitting on her rocking chair. In that moment, what caught my eye was a kwitis (a firecracker, attached to a stick, that supposedly propels itself upward and then blows up) heading towards my car(it really isn't), which was parked right outside the garage. Lucky enough, the kwitis had dodged the car. Unlucky enough, it went straight towards my cousin and I. Now, if a person holding a gun points it at a little girl but has me blocking the way, chances are I'd be the one who'd get it -- no shit, Einstein. But this was not the case. The kwitis' stick was too heavy and had gone down after it propelled itself upward. It went straight towards us, and had managed to miss me and hit my cousin instead. The few moments later was a loud BANG!  and then the cries of my little cousin. She had suffered only slight burns and is fine now. But I can pretty much say, she's not going to be hanging in the garage next New Year's Eve. After all the drama, my twelve year old cousin had gotten over the incident and had managed to eat during the Media Noche ("midnight meal").

Earlier that night, my friend invited me and some others to go to his house at around 1 o'clock to have a few drinks to celebrate our yearly tradition of staying up until 7 o'clock in the morning. And 2 puking friends  and 5-1L Red Horse Bottles later, we walked around the village and did just that. It was nice spending New Year's at the village. After the sun blinded us with its presence, we all went home one by one.

Happy New Year, Everybody.

PS. This would have made a good first blog to write about, but I wanted to start blogging because I thought of the actual first blog I made.

Last Faithful Song Syndrome

On the way home from a New Year's day get together with the family, I find myself in the passenger seat of my aunt's car. My aunt, a very religious woman, plays this CD full of songs about praise and worship. I have no particular qualms with that kind of music, but this isn't the first time she's played this today. She plays it every time we go somewhere in her car and I have somewhat memorized some of the tunes and lyrics of the songs. Somehow, I don't remember a time when we're riding in my aunt's car that she doesn't play it.

It gets more evident when we stop for gas and the gas station's rules and regulations tell you that you have to turn off your car during. The CD player is reset and it starts all over again. I don't hate it, but the playing over and over'll get to anyone. No thing repeated over and over again is good for you. Not even grammar get better, OVER and OVER and OVER. See what I mean?

Again, I don't hate it but I don't particularly like the kind of music, either. So does that make me kind of shallow and close-minded? Maybe it does, I don't mind really. And maybe that stems from me being somewhat agnostic. Does my agnosticism and efferent feelings towards Christian/praise music connect? -- I'd say it does, a little.

Back to the main story, somehow all this playing over and over again got to me. I had wanted to abstain on saying anything, but lack of sleep disabled me to. So, I had told my aunt to switch it to radio and so she did, with a hint of annoyance - I heard a faint tsk as she changed it. This was not the first time I had told her to change it. I had done so a few times before but was unsuccessful, until earlier.

I sensed my aunt's mood swing. And what was a holy ride home, turned into figurative silence (The radio played R&B and hip-hop songs). But as the destination grew closer, her moodswing seemed to have faded and had started to talk again. But why change it at all?

Doesn't matter now. All I know is, I won.