The Nota Concert...

... was a definite high.
The 2 weeks of endless and tiring practice was worth it. My throat burned like i've swallowed pure acid but I was soaring with adrenaline rush.
Last Saturday, we held a concert for 3 of the law school orgs - Forte (for the bands, rockers, and musicians), Salsa (for the dancers), and Choir (for the singers) at Blue Leaf, Fort.
From morning until the last possible minute, we were practicing, rehearsing, reaching notes and matching tempos. And then the night began. I wish I had some way to record the whole thing because it was one of my best experiences ever. The noise, the panic, the touch-ups, the curtain calls, the numbers, and the awe and shouts from the audience. Everything seemed like a blur now and pretty soon, i'll forget all about it. But it's been three days, and I still feel the high it gave me. I love it! This is the feeling that I want to keep for awhile longer even when i can't remember everything and everyone that night.

Suddenly I was feeling depressed

It’s been a very heavy week. Everyone has felt so tired. I feel worn out, so sleepy all the time. I never seem to be prepared for class; I space out a lot; I miss out on things; I haven’t had a relaxing day with friends. I’m just so tired all the time.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. My friends seem to feel it too, this heavy feeling that’s been floating over our heads this week.

I’ve had to cry over the past couple of days just to get it out. It’s probably due to stress. The Nota Concert is a week away and we haven’t polished any of the songs yet. I don’t even know all the songs. The choir has been practicing practically everyday for the past week and it’s eaten up my study and sleep time. We have a new internet connection that has driven us to the point of distraction. I’ve had exams to finish, cases and books to read and thesis outline to defend. The block has been a mess since Patty left. It’s gotten worse over the past month and this week, it’s simply toxic. There are just too many issues, most of which I don’t understand. Sometimes, I don’t understand how other people react and how they think. It’s getting harder to wake up and go to school, knowing that at the end of the day, I’d be dead tired and frustrated.

The Fair

Yesterday was somehow a break in the tiresome routine. Finally, weekend has arrived. Saturday started out with a class, a long lunch with Mel and Ces, choir practice, mass, again choir practice, and finally, the UP Fair. Choir, although a lot of fun, sometimes eats most of my time. Yesterday it ended late, hence, Mel and I met up with the rest of the gang late for the UP Fair.

I rode with Patty and Mel on the way to Diliman and we got “caught” by the mapsa in J.P. Rizal. The police gave out some lame excuse like low headlights. I just wanted to get away from it all. Poor Patty was begging the police not to issue a ticket. I should have known it, they just wanted money. We finally got to UP and parked our cars.

We already bought tickets but the line leading to the entrance was a claustrophobic’s nightmare. *ehem ehem, by the way, I am claustrophobic* I do not like to be in enclosed places and the entrance was the one place I dreaded to be in. We were not only pushed around by the crowd; we also got harassed by the people behind us. *grrr grrr* I have never seen so many goth, emo, ghetto, nerd, and plain weird gathering of teenagers. Thank God for backstage passes. A senior friend of a friend who was the drummer of Sunflower Day Camp got us in. *big thank you* Finally, we got in! *hurray*

We ate shawarma rice and rodicks. After a long chat over dinner, we made our way back to the backstage when we heard the said band begin to play. There a bit of a setback when we were not allowed in but (knowing my friends) we were able to convince the bouncers to let us back in. *phew* We picked a great spot and had fun. And we had a lot of fun!

I miss these “reunions” with my friends. This year, it’s been few and far in between so I’m going to enjoy them as much as I could. Too bad the night had to end. Next time ulit! Happy anniversary to us, girls! Good thing we didn’t get into another accident this year.

Thank God for friends

It's Feb 14, Valentine's Day.
Paaaakkksshhhheeeeeettttt!

It's been a hell of a day. Slept at 3 am due to Evidence case digests; woke up late naturally; hence, grumpy morning *monster me*; made (more like crammed) Legal Forms petitions; printed everything; ran out of ink; took a 5min bath 30 minutes before class; ran, yes, literally sprinted up the hill to school; on the way i met my oh-ever-so-early-never-late professor who i strongly dislike at the moment (it takes a lot to get on my bad side... or maybe not! gut instinct); found out that half of my classmates had a self-declared freecut which increased by chances of getting called for recitation (i have not even opened my damned book and i have no idea what to discuss); had to muddle through class "issues" and getting coffee; a late lunch; froze my ass in the "winter wonderland" auditorium for 2 hours and mostly pinched myself awake; had a good laugh over someone falling off his seat backwards, dragging down the seat beside him as well; early dinner with friends and talked about the "issue"; went over to Starbucks (got my 2nd planner from Cam, the barista) and made the take home exams; dropped by Good Earth (yes, the singles table was quite drunk by then); tried to comfort a crying friend who really just wanted to vent (i'm so sorry i'm not the best person to talk to right now since i'm cranky and borderline apathetic); went home; ranted; and now blogging.
There... that just about sums up my Valentine's day. I'm beat. I'm glad it's over. I'm so looking forward to the weekend. I need a long, restful sleep, a long shower, good food, and a super sweet dessert.

Last Chance

Look back, she thought.

Call out my name, he thought.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound his footsteps. He took one step. One step towards the door. One step farther from her. Two. Three.

It was a game they played. How far can he go without looking back, without missing a step. How far can she let him go without her asking him to say, without her calling his name.

He was at the door, reaching for the handle.

Dammit, stay, she wanted to say.

He sighed. She held her breath.

“I’m leaving,” he said without turning back. The knob clicked as he opened the door.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Tears started to cloud her vision.

“I know. I am, too.”

With that he left. He left her. The room smelled of sun-kissed flowers.

Damn her pride. Damn his weakness. Damn it all, love is bittersweet.

Of Mangas and Mangakas

I miss ranting and raving. I miss being tackless and blunt. I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived, cranky and overly patient. (something so abnormal about me: I really am patient when I’m feeling odd) Blame it on the monthly cycle pains and the not-so-over exams.

I’m obsessed with manga right now, an obsession I share with my college friend Richard. I love reading manga for some time now. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot more and craving (to the point that I spend a whole day in internet shops and bookstores reading manga). I’ve met Onyxangel, an online friend who shares my obsession. Her comments amuse me to no ends and her recommendations are smack perfect. She introduced me to the works of Hino Matsuri, MeruPuri or Marchen Prince. One word: kilig. The characters are interesting, the story is quaint, and the drawings are beautiful. I have to applaud the mangaka, her works are utterly beautiful. I love the way she draws, perfect lines and symmetry, lovely scenery and astig costumes and the characters – beautiful! I’ve always been a fan of guys with lovely eyes and androgynous features. When I saw her male leads, I just had to stop and stare, more like ogle. How I wish they were real!

Another mangaka with beautiful characters is Miyagi Riko, I’ve seen only a few chapters of her work but I’ve stared at it for minutes at a time. I love the way she draws the eyes, conveying emotions with just the eyes. Her script is heart-meltingly sweet as well.

But I guess I still love Nana the most; it wasn’t my first manga but it is my first love. Ai Yazawa is the mangaka. Plus, Nana has been turned into anime, which I found so cute, and 2 movies! *clap clap* The first movie featured one of my favorite Jap actresses, Aoi Miyazaki, the theme song was written by my fave Jap rock artist, Hyde of L’Arc~en~ciel, and had the best parts of the manga in it. I’m digressing! ^_^ I’m such a fan. Back to my point… I love the story! It moved me to tears of joy, triumph, frustration, and helplessness; it had me cringing in embarrassment and kilig; it had me crazy in love with her cute drawings; and it thoroughly converted me to rock and roll goth. The mangaka is a great story teller to the point that I couldn’t stop reading till my eyes hurt.

Hisaya Nakajo with her Hanazakari No Kimitachi E also gave me shivers of utter kilig.

My recent read is Yuuki Ryou’s Shinigami Lovers. I’m a fan of the supernatural and this really does it for me, a mortal girl and a death god. It’s not as well drawn or as heart-wrenching as the other mangas but it’s turning out pretty okei. I'm looking forward to the new chapters and the new characters.