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The Potterhead decides to go to Med School

I know, this is a life-defining decision. If I pursue this road, I have to know that this will be a very long and difficult road. This is going to be struggle. I will have to work harder than I ever did before. I will have to give up a lot. And I'm not sure I want that.

But when I stop to think about it, it can't be so hard. Besides, I've been through the worst in my Nursing education in the University of the Philippines. College in UP is like the "Hunger Games". It's a constant competition, and to get to the final, you have to do things you're not happy about. You'll have to deal with people in the most unimaginable ways possible. You'll have to give up a lot, for that one, final goal---to graduate and wear that famed Sablay.

But why would I want to go to med school when I've already gone through 4 years of excruciating experience in nursing?

Simply, because I'm not satisfied. I can't accept the idea of Nursing being the last frontier of my education. I can't accept the fact that Nursing will be the kind of life I will lead for the rest of eternity. I can't. Don't get me wrong, I love Nursing. But I just can't accept that THAT was it. No. I. Cannot.

There has to be something more. It felt like I went through college without any real inspiration, or drive. It's like I haven't given my best. It's like there's something more that I can achieve, and I refuse to believe that I've given everything I've got. Because, honestly, I havent.

Why? Because, like I said, I wasn't inspired. No drive. No goal. No, nothing. It's like I was on autopilot and the only goal is to pass. PASS---not EXCEL. 

UP education makes Zombies out of normal, innocent freshies. 

When I entered UP, I was full of hope. Potential. Dream. Drive.

But two weeks in, it felt like I've been drained of all happiness. Like I have been kissed by a dementor and I've been left as a soulless being, waiting to cross the veil. The professors, the curriculum, the requirements---they all vaccum out all the good there is to being a student. I ended up just wanting to get-things-over-with. I wasn't motivated. I became passive, and uncaring.

I'm that student who never fails, but never excels, too. I just...float by. 

Knowing that, I can't let my career to be defined by my half-assed education. I want a career that I can be proud of. A career that I can love wholeheartedly. A career that I can look back upon and say that I was at my best while I was earning that degree. And I believe Medicine is the way to go.

But if I want anything to change, I'd like to change schools. I'd like to be in an environment where I am motivated and driven. An environment where I can be inspired and challenged. I want an environment where there is room to breathe and appreciate everything that's happening.

Right now, I'm choosing between UST, UERM, or St. Luke's.

I've passed my application on these schools, and I am hoping I get accepted in all of them.


......





And I did. 

I got my first acceptance from UERM. Then I got in the waiting list for St. Lukes. Then just this afternoon, I received a call from UST, asking me to reserve my slot tomorrow.

Weighing in everything, including the opinion of the people who will fund my education---in short, me eldest brother---I reserved my slot for UERM.

Honestly, it's a toss coin between UERM and UST. The only plus I can see by choosing UERM is the fact that I can choose to have rotations in the US. This is good for me since I am planning to practice in the States since the rest of my family lives there. Living and practicing in the US has always been the end-goal, and I have a better chance of achieving that by enrolling in UERM.


There's no turning back now. I've paid the 30,000 Php (non-refundable) reservation fee already.



-----

This marks the next chapter of my life...but not just yet...

There's still my nursing graduation from UP. Which will be on April 25. And before that glorious graduation day, I still have to finish my community work, pass my removals exam, and defend my thesis. whew. I can do this. Fighting!

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First week of immersion


So, I just came home form my first week of community immersion in Cavite. And, gosh, I have soooo many feels for that place.

I can't say I hate it. It's not bad. The people are nice. Our foster family is great, and to be honest, I feel kinda guilty. They did so many changes in the house just so we could be more comfortable. I bet they even gave up their own room so that we could sleep in a nice enough bed. 

What I'm saying is, the place is nice, but it's not home.

I never thought I'd miss my home this much. The little pleasures of a decent bath, a decent toilet, a faucet, warm water, and, of course, internet access!!!!

What made the experience even more challenging is the fact that I left my charger at home. It was quite an achievement for me for surviving all week without a working phone. I guess, nobody will miss me much. Hashtag forever alone problems.

Plus, I got bored as I ran out of things to do. Yes, I know, there are a LOT of work to be done for the community duty. What I meant was I ran out of exciting things to do. Hello??? It's the first week! No one does ACTUAL work during the first week---well, at least not me...or my group mates.

And because we didn't feel like working just yet, all we can actually do is EAT. Which is, I guess, not a very good choice for a past time. We made several jogging plans, but we never woke up early enough to avoid the sun. So we ended up working out to HipHop abs. I'd post pictures but I haven't got permission to post them from my two groupmates. So just imagine three hot girls bouncing to the cardio workout of hiphop abs.....NAH. Forget about the hot part, and instead, think about three bum ladies in their pajamas, desperately trying to burn out the calories they thoughtlessly gained in three days.

Why so desperate? Because we're graduating in less than three months, and we didn't want to be fat and extremely tan for our graduation pictures!!! Not when when we've worked so hard to earn that Sablay and diploma only to be immortalized as dugyutin and tabain girls who forgot all about poise and self-preservation for the sake of their graduation pictures.

Right now, I'm home, trying to savor every moment of civilization I still have left until Tuesday when we have to go back to the Cavite community. I want to enjoy as much of this kind of life before I immerse myself again to an internet-and-decent-bath-deprived life in the rural barangays of Cavite.
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It's That Time of the Year Again

My birthdays have always been depressing since 2009. What good is celebrating when the people you want to celebrate it with is in another continent. Sure, we make up for it by doing the celebrations a couple of months later, but still...nothing beats having the people you love around you on your birthday.

I understand. I really do. I get that we have to sacrifice some things. I get that someday, everything will be better. Delayed gratification, I get that. But that doesn't mean it never gets depressing knowing that I get to spend these special moments apart from my family. It's sad. 

Less than a month from now, I will be graduating. And people keep asking if any of my parents will come back to the Philippines for my graduation. I know that I smile when I tell the people asking that my parents aren't coming, and that I'm okay with that, and that we're just being practical since right after graduation, I will be going abroad to be with them. I smile, and I tell everyone that it's fine. That I don't mind not having my parents with me during my graduation. But deep inside, I'm far from okay. Those moments are just too precious not to spend with your loved ones. I will never have pictures on stage with them, I will never have toga and Sablay pictures with them by my side. I will never have my parents sitting in the crowd, waiting for my name to be called. Sure, my titas and titos will be there for me. But they're not the ones I will be waiting for. They're not the ones I will be thinking about while I walk up to that stage.


After all these years, one would think I would have been used to this by now. That may be true...for some days. It's bad enough that I dont have my parents with me. But it was bearable then...because I still had my grandmother with me then. But now she's gone, and it's even more depressing. 

Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it...if it's ALL worth it.

I'm depressed, and I'm lonely. I know that tomorrow, I'll feel better with RAF. But tonight, I'm eating my heart out.

                                   
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I just wanna dance [Saliwan @ Sayaw Manila 10]

I realized something last week....ALL I WANNA DO IS DANCE.


January 25, 2014, Saliwan performed as a guest in UP Manila Indayog's Dance Concert: Sayaw Manila '10 - TenQ.


I danced with my fellow Saliwan members. And I just could not get over the exhilaration I felt while I was onstage. The euphoria, the high...it was priceless. I always want to feel that way. The adrenaline, the rush...the bass music felt like it's pumping the blood in my body. The rhythm keeping me in motion, no matter how heavy and tired I felt, I just kept going until the lights went out and the music has played it's final note.

Dancing felt great. And I always want to feel that way. Always.

Sometimes I feel like throwing everything, packing up my bags, and just live a care-free life as a dancer. I've thought of throwing everything---including four years of hard-earned college degree---just to live the life I've always wanted.


I know, I am not the best dancer. I have a lot to learn as a dancer. I am soooooo far from being a successful dancer in the industry. I know I could never make anything of myself as a dancer unless I throw everything. If I could, I definitely would. But the life I have now, I don't own it. I owe it to my parents. And I owe it to them not to waste away the years of hard work they have done for me in order for me to achieve a degree. They didnt do all the sacrifices they did so that I could throw everything away for dance.


So what must I do?


Make the best of every opportunity. Dance on the sidelines. Dance whenever possible. Because that's the only way I could stay alive...







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Finally. Almost There.

Today was the last day of my hospital duty. YAY!!!!





These are my creative, Sablay, and Toga shots for graduation.


After two long, excruciating months of papers, six-AM-call-times, and nursing work, I AM DONE WITH MY HOSPITAL DUTY!!!!!


I know,  there is still a ton of work to do. But this is different! I singlehandedly went through my intensive hospital experience. Normally, students have partners in the wards they are assigned to. But my partner bailed on me and got married. HOW GREAT IS THAT?? But then again, nothing can ever stop me. Nothing could delay this long-time-coming end-of-hospital duties.


Four weeks of primary nursing. Done.
Two weeks of staff nursing. Done.
Two weeks of head nursing. Done.


Nothing is sweeter. :))




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Stuck.

Im stuck. I have been for years now. It took one friend of mine who visited from Australia to make me realize that i havent changed a bit since we last saw each other some three years ago.


I didnt realize how much it would hurt to hear the words "hindi ka nagbabago". Sure. In one context, pwedeng positive yun. Pero im guilty of the negative. I look the same, i dress the same, i act the same, im still the same. Sa lahat ng magbabarkada nung high school, ako lang talaga ang walang pinagkaiba. I suddenly wondered if there's anything wrong with me. Am i really incapable of change? Am i such a coward? Problema ko kasi, i have this wall. I stick to what i know and never bother going out there. Out there in the world. Laptop ko lang ang kilala ko. No boys. No friends outside of school. When cheska asked what's new with me, i honestly had nothing to say. I ended up saying news about other people...but nothing about myself. Because there's literally nothing to say. 


What the actual fuck is wrong with me???


Someone tell me. 


Someone, please, fix me. 
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I Kissed A Girl...and i kinda liked it

Last night's events made me realize a lot of things. (1) that i can never really run from my past and (2) that there's no reason of denying the facts anymore...the facts about us.

so here, the story goes...


It was first year high school. As I entered the room, i saw a few familiar faces. but there were a heck of a lot of new ones. and so the school year started. the usual classroom drama commenced...but the biggest drama of all is me and my lesbo bestfriend's story.

So there i was..newly elected president of the class of I-St. Albert. Busy as hell...organizing programs, competing for inter-class competitions, administrating classroom shizznesss...the usual officer-in-charge stuff. then i had a friend. a girl friend. Her name is M.

When i met her, i thought she was pretty. Kinda boyish. But pretty. i thought she was like me...the un-girly girl type. And we have grown really close. She would often sit with me, chat with me, help me with stuff. And I guess I didn't mind having her as a friend.

Now the fun starts here...

A few months into the school year, her grade school classmate, K, told me that i shouldnt get too close with M. i asked why, but K wouldnt say the reason. She just kept telling me that i should distance myself from M. She kept repeating these things, but i didnt listen. i wouldnt leave a friend just because someone says so. I cant stay away from M and she can't stay away from me. But K insisted and so i said i needed one good reason. and that's when K told me that M is lesbian.

Woah.

Personally, i had no problem with that. i have no issues with gays and lesbians. I dont think it matters what or who a person wants. it doesnt change anything. and when K told me that M is lesbian, i didnt have any outrageous reaction. i was surprised that M didnt tell me, yes... but nothing changed. She's still the friend that i know and love. And that's what i told K. 

And so we continued on with our lives. While juggling academic stuff, M and I had gotten closer and closer. Until one day, after school, I was supposed to be fetched by my dad but he was running late because of a faculty meeting. So i said i'll just wait for him. It was 9 pm. i was at the front stairs of our building and M offered to stay with me.

It's a monday evening so the HS building is quite empty already since there is school the following day. Everyone has gone home except for the two of us. I was leaning against a wall, and M was sitting a few inches from me. As we were sitting quietly, she inched closer. M reached for my hand. She laced her fingers in between mine and she held it on her lap. I looked at her. She looked back. My face must be blushing and i must have looked puzzled because she smiled. I have a million questions running through my mind at that moment and she answered with a soft "I like you...and i want to be more than friends".

I couldnt speak. Heck, i couldnt even think. i just froze. i could find the words....

and then...with all the good timing in the world, my dad's car came honking on the driveway. and so i tried to pull my hand away...but she wouldnt let it go. finally, i said, "Text kita later", and then she let go. And i took my stuff and opened the back seat door and vanished into the car.

During the ride home, i was quiet. too quiet. i couldnt figure out my feelings. A part of me was confused. I had a lot of questions...but the one thing i was sure of at that moment is the M is indeed a lesbian...and she likes me. She. Likes. Me.

Me. The one who was overlooked by her grade school best friend/crush. The one who never got picked. Never chosen. Never.

M likes me.

And I am happy.

And I guess, that's all i cared about. 


That night, at 12:30 am, i texted M and asked if she's still awake. Seconds later, my phone rang. i answered and M was on the line.

I couldn't remember the conversation. All that i knew is that we talked for hours. I guess she was waiting for me to say that i like her too, but...i dont know. i just dont feel it yet. all i knew was that i am happy with her.

The next day, we continued on as we always did. and the day after that. and the day after that. Come friday, that's when things got even more exciting.

It was after school, we were the last ones in the classroom. I was returning my things in the locker. As i closed my locker door and turned to leave, M was blocking my way. She pushed me back, placed her hand on the wall behind me. She inched closer...too close, i could feel her breathe on my lashes since she's taller than I am. At that moment, i kinda knew what's coming next. So i tried so hard not to look up to her eyes. i stared down, but she took my face by my chin, tilted my head up, and she placed a soft kiss on my lips.


my eyes were closed. we stood there. savoring the moment. i dont know how long our lips were locked. She was cradling my face, and i stood there, still clutching my locker keys, too stunned to move, or too shocked to pull away. and then a janitor came in and we instinctively pulled away...almost too reluctantly. we pretended to be doing something else, and were forced to leave the room.

the walk down the hall was the quietest and the most awkward walk i've had. as we reached the front gate, we stared at each other for a few seconds and she gave me tight hug and we parted.

As i was sitting at the back seat of my dad's car, i was quiet thinking, contemplating. HOLY CRAP. I just had my first kiss. I kissed a girl...and...the most shocking of all: I liked it.

Little did i know, there'd be a lot more kisses after the first one--- a thousand more kisses. What can i say?! She's...aggressive. Hungry, even. We've french-kissed in bathroom stalls, in the classroom, in the hallway, inside the room, in our make-shift tunnel, in her room...name it, we've been there, done it.

One of my favorite moments is when she held my hand under a book during classes, and steal a kiss from me when the teacher is not looking. She would trace my fingers with hers and who knew that there's a million things one could do with two hands hidden under a book cover?! 

She was so sweet...so malambing. I felt loved. She gave me a lot of things. She gave me stuffed toys---which i hated---but she gave me three, anyway. She also gave me an engraved ring with our initials on it.

Of the many things she gave me, I only have this teddy bear left. I'm not sure what ever happened to the two other stuffed toys, or the ring.. I think i gave up the toys for donation, and I think I lost the ring...or I threw it away? Not really sure.

If there was one thing that we liked doing so much next to kissing and cuddling, is talking. We talked for hours and hours. We talked so long, that we beat the sunrise almost everyday. 

Everything was going great...until a crazy girl from the class of St. Aurea approached me one morning started rattling about me stealing M from her. and i was like...WTF. I didnt steal anyone. I was chosen. I told her she could fuck off somewhere else.

And there was this time during a weekend when my mom read my text messages. really sweet and malandi text messages. My mom talked to me and asked what's going on.  i told her i'm seeing someone but that it's not serious. She didn't ask anything more, but i felt bad not telling her that that situation is DEAD SERIOUS.

I must say, i enjoyed the relationship. But there came a time when we started drifting apart. or at least, i was turned off by some things that she did. i started seeing what K was saying. M started slashing her wrist whenever we fought. She started doing things... things i didnt approve of. Then, suddenly, i dont know. It's like I had been awaken. I finally saw how wrong the relationship was. Not wrong that she's a girl, wrong that I never really liked her. That I was just excited to finally be in a relationship. That, finally, someone noticed me. 

I  started thinking if the relationship was still worth fighting for. And, then, she had become too controlling. She scares my friends, and quite frankly, she scared me too. Any guy who gets too close to me, she would scare off.

I had a drafting partner. We shared a drafting table and his name is C. One day, C refused to talk to me. I spent the whole drafting period asking what's wrong. It was unusual that he wouldnt talk to me since we were quite close. we talked a lot and shared a lot...until that day. It was obvious that C was avoiding me. and i had a good feeling M had something to do with it.

that night, as M and I were talking on the phone, i bluntly asked M if she had anything to do with the way C acted around me. And then she admitted that she talked to C and told C that she didnt want him being too close to me. The moment she admitted, i became too furious to even talk. i hung up the phone and refused to talk to her for days.

she has become too controlling and too suffocating. I couldnt talk to my friends, because they, themselves, don't approve of the relationship. They didnt understand it. And i dont blame them. So i had no one to talk to. I only had myself. That's when i decided i need a time out. I couldn't take it anymore. I started believing what K said to me before eveyrhting started. I started believing that M really is bad news. She's unhealthy for me. And quite frankly, i'm not sure if I wanted to keep the relationship.

At the end of the school year, I broke it off. She begged for me to stay. Then I did something cowardly. I hid under my mother. I told her my mother didn't like me hanging out with her. Instead of telling her I didnt want her anymore, I used the obedient-child-excuse because I didnt have the stomach to tell her the truth. The last day of classes was also the last day we talked. For a year we didn't talk. Since we were in different sections, it wasn't too hard to not see each other. I've moved on, and i see that she hasn't.

One day during my college days in UP, i ran across her on my way to Robinsons. The memory is so vivid, I could still feel the awkwardness of that split-second our eyes met. When I saw her, I stopped on my tracks, and so did she...but only for a few seconds. Our eyes met, and I think we were both confused, and we both wanted the awkward stare to stop. So we nodded at each other, and continued on or separate ways.


I guess, my purpose for writing this blog entry, is to tell myself that it's time to stop denying my past. I was too ashamed of my past that i didn't tell anyone about it, even my best friends in high school. I now realize that i have to acknowledge this part of me and that there's no shame in saying that once in my life, i loved someone and was loved by someone...no matter how ugly and awkward the ending was.