one. i was born and raised first among a whole generation in a highly conservative poster-family for Filipino traditions. this meant off-the-wall restrictions from a paranoid father, a weekly feeding frenzy from crazy grandparents, and embarassing mother-imposed solo performances for all family guests unitl i was 13. (if you were a true blue batang pinoy, you know these horrible little talent shows.)
two. at several different points of my young life, i've looked like aiza ceguerra, an oompa loompa, a carebear, a filipino rosie o' donnel, a giant walking kiwi, and a 160 lb 12 year old female sumo wrestler.
three. i ate my own poop as a baby and somehow, this act made my grandparents prophesize me as a genius for my "inquisitiveness".
four. although i studied... i'm sorry, LIVED... in an exclusive catholic girls' school for most of my life years, i have only recently learned how to comb. i used to be a guy-girl and perpetually played matchmaker at soiree's.
five. in highschool, i was one of the guidance office's famed clients. i launched several campaigns against stereotyping, favoritism, and "weekly-cleaners".
six. i was the first case of bulimia ever documented at my old school. As treatment, my clueless guidance counselor advised my friends to do everything in their power to ban me from using the restroom on breaks. I think this gave me a bladder problem instead of treating my food disorder.
seven. i did not use to drink soda or anything carbonated except when it's alcoholic... until i met and lived with my bestfriend Sasha, who does not drink regular water. EVER.
eight. i can read palms, i am fascinated by astrology, and my dad's siquijorian. now. if you're filipino, you would know that siquijor is the philippine capital of witchcraft, so I suggest you do not mess with me. my grandfather, for some weird reason, does not want me to ever set foot on that island since i was there when i was three. i have a feeling it's because he knows that i'm a super magical and powerful being and he's trying to hide it from me. i'm serious. lol.
nine. for some weird reason, my favorite memory of childhood is one of my five year old self sitting in my prep school, opening my brand new purple Aladdin plastic lunchbox for recess. i don't remember much other ecstatic moments in my life, but this one... whenever i replay it in my head i get all giddy.
ten. right after watching the truman show for the first time, i looked at a mirror and fixed my hair. right after watching being john malcovich for the first time, i opened up all my closet doors and felt its walls.
eleven. i'm dead scared of clowns (i seriously cry whenever one comes near me, and cringe at the mere image of it. i can't even take ronald mcdonald) and i have this weird urge to inflict pain on mascots and mimes. at my seventh birthday party, i punched grimace in the eye and he cursed at me.
twelve. i have been caught more than twice doing slick classic airband rock moves to ac-dc, led zeppelin, poison, and mr. big with nothing but my underwear on. classic rock still continues to be the only music that never fails to pump blood into my veins.
thirteen. my biggest dream is to have my thoughts immortalized in a book. i write decent poems in both tagalog and english,and make rather witty blogs and fiction from time to time. if i should say so myself.
fourteen. i hate people who claim fame by affiliation, or people who get jobs and privileges simply because they're their parent's kid. i believe that if anyone should make it in the world, they should make their own mark for it to matter. i am a firm believer of pride in one's self. i got this from my brilliant and hardworking parents, who could have had everything, but chose to live hard knock beginnings to get to where they are now.
fifteen. a psychic once told me these exact words: "men will be your downfall." to this day, i always kick myself in the head for not remembering this warning.
sixteen. i have thought about this before, and i can honestly and sincerely say that i could and would die for the people i love.
seventeen. i am blessed with awesome REAL friends who defies time, distance, and circumstance. also, this is how you can tell that a person is really a friend of mine : they look smart, talk smart, act smart, ARE smart. It's a given. The treasured few friends of mine are respectable and intelligent. It's a standard that has no exceptions.
eighteen. in gradeschool, i joined the same singing contest five years in a row before i actually won. i don't know if they actually thought i got better, or if they just wanted me to stop.
nineteen. i have never really owned a pair of nike's, and i intend to get me one this year.
twenty. i ran away from home and ended up living in a bed in a narrow hallway with not even a blanket nor a pillow for a long ass time because it was the only thing i could afford. up till now i believe that i'm an awesome person for having moved up from that to sharing rent for a condo in just a year and a half.two years later, at the age of 22, i am back at my parents' house, currently saving up to put my name on a title deed. i still think i rock.
twenty one. i was a varsity debater for seven years of my life.
twenty two. i have never received flowers from a guy in my life, nor have i had a real committed relationship.
twenty three. all moms like me. it's a strange power of mine. the only mom who didn't like me thought i was hitting on her one and only son, so she did everything in her power to break our friendship. a few years later, her son decided that he was gay.
twenty four. this is sick, but i used to have pet chickens named henrietta, chikitita, and ben. ben died at a cockfight, and the two ladies were served as native tinola in one of my mom's famous parties. i cried a little, but the tinola was too good to be too remorseful.
twenty five. it weirds me out when people, particularly the balikbayans and foreigners, ask if i'm "from here". it plays a weird thought in my head that goes: "you mean like, Earth?"
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