I don’t wanna talk cos there’s nothing left to say

Something odd happened today. While sitting in class today, I suddenly experienced my first grip of fear about going to college.

I observed that on a daily basis, I only talk to about four to six people at school (out of the 71 in my batch and the 500 something in my high school). When I say “talk”, I don’t mean like “Can I borrow your whiteout?” In spite of what you think, I’m not that much of a loser. I meant “talk” like a real conversation. And aside from my friends, I hardly converse with anyone else. Does that mean that I’m really picky, really snobby, or just really antisocial?

And that worried me very much because what if I stay that way during the first crucial days of college? Specifically during the ORSEM thing. I mean, three days of forced bonding with my fellow freshmen? I think not. I practically had a vision: everyone else is getting to know each other, laughing and having a good time and totally getting into the batch spirit (do they still have that crap in college?). Me–just sitting in a corner and glaring at everyone and hating society for no reason in particular.

It was very disturbing. Not that “vision” I had, but just the mere fact that I am actually afraid of going to college. I scoffed at everyone else who was worried about leaving the safety of their circle of friends, and here I am experiencing the sam fear! My circle may be a small one, and it may be a very mainstream circle, but it’s still a circle. It protects me from having to mingle with people I don’t like. Within that circle I can truly be myself.

I know that Chris will be going to Ateneo too, which is a cool thing because he’s one of my really close friends. But he’ll probably be spending a lot of time with his high school friends. So that doesn’t really help me much.

But my biggest fear is this: what if college really is just high school with beer? What if everyone else is still totally trapped in high school and all the girls are superficial and all the guys are assholes and because of that I can’t talk to anyone and I end up hating everyone in school like I do now?

I think I watch too many college movies.

It might be the end of the world as we know it

Summer’s near. Even if it’s only January I can tell that it’s near because it’s already mosquito season. Slowly but surely, those damned bloodsuckers are multiplying and feeding off their favorite human–me. As of now, I’ve got three or four bites on one (rather flabby) thigh alone. They look so swollen and pink and good to scratchw, which is why I’ve got small yet numerous coin-shaped scars on my legs. So much for wearing a two-piece in public.

Seriously…I’ve got to go to the beach this summer. My mom and my aunts are going to Cebu for a week sometime in April to get their stuff from their childhood home because they’re selling the house to someone. While they pack their ancient, moldy things into cardboard boxes, I will be frolicking around the sand and in the water with my cousins all day long. I guess I’m more of a beach person than a mountain person. Even if it is hot in the beach, at least there aren’t any bugs around. And since I *might* be going to college in New York, I’d better get darker skin. My natural tan will surely fade from being away from the sun for so long. I would hate for that to happen. I love my skin color–not too pale, but not too dark either. And it’s even all over; no tan lines or anything like that. I suppose that’s what I’ll miss in the States–the sun. And my skin color.

Maybe I should stay here.

I spent a good part of the afternoon brooding about the imminence of war and maybe even the end of the world. I find it so annoying how just when I’m finally done with worrying over college, I’ve got this more serious problem to worry about. (See, that’s why I hate current events.) It’s for purely selfish reasons why I don’t want a war to happen. I’m sure everyone feels the same way too. I mean, I want to live my life to the fullest and die a peaceful death when I’m a little old lady. It depressed me because I suddenly realized how damn pointless everything is. I mean, if there will be a war, then all the effort I put into essays and school was for nothing because we’re all going to die anyway. And what’s a high school education good for if we’re just going to get caught in the crossfire or have our drinking water contaminated with some bacteria that can cause a horrible, slow-killing disease? I swear to God if that happens to me, I’m going to kill myself. Seriously. I don’t want to get my internal organs eaten up and sores to grow all over my body and live in agony and pain for hours and days and weeks. I want to die within a minute. Nothing more than that. I’m not even gonna wait for a cure or anything, because everyone I know will probably be dead by then and I don’t want to be the only one alive or anything. I’d probably end up committing suicide anyway.

Stupid USA and stupid Sadam Hussein and stupid world.

We’re oblivious to the fact that we’re so different

I had nothing better to do today, so I went to see a movie with Angelica and my sister at the mall. Maricris was supposed to join us but then she wasn’t sure about it because her boyfriend might not go. Ever since she started dating this guy from Don Bosco named Butch, I hardly ever see her anymore. She hangs out more with girls who are also into Bosconians now. It’s cool with me; I mean, I’m glad she’s getting some love life and all. And I guess she’s better off hanging out with those girls since they’ve got more things in common. But you know, if I ever get around to having a romantic relationship, I hope I will still be able to socialize without my significant other surgically attached to my side (Or my front. Or my back.).

Maricris ended up going to the mall anyway (without Butch), but she went with Glyka, this girl Frances, and two other Bosconians (talk about betrayal; she planned to see the movie with Angelica and me). We ran into each other and found out that we were all seeing the same movie (8 Mile). And I thought that now that we saw each other, we would all hang out and maybe get a picture taken. But I could tell that my sister and Angelica weren’t too hot for the idea. And from the looks of their faces, I could see that the two Bosconians didn’t want to either. I kind of understood why. I mean, Angelica and I were wearing preppy clothes; the guys were in their full “ghetto” outfits. Ducky, one of the guys they were with, is a high school senior who’s quite scrawny and looks like he’s twelve. Glyka is really crazy about him and she’s actually bigger than he is (vertically and horizontally). Anyway, Ducky was actually wearing a purple visor and all. The other guy was okay, but his hair was in these really sharp spikes and he was wearing super baggy jeans. I realized that I would die of embarassment if anyone I know outside of school saw me walking around with those two. Silently, the three of us agreed decided that it would be better if we just went our own way. I thought I detected a look of relief on Glyka and Marcris’ faces when we said we’d just see them after the movie.

Yes, I am a discriminating, elitist bitch. Go sue me for not being a real Pinoy.

8 Mile was a good movie, better than I thought it would be. A lot of people said it was kind of boring, so I didn’t really expect much from it. But I think I know what they meant when they said that. Watching the movie was like trying to learn another language. It took me awhile to get used to all the ebonics and the word “fuck” inserted into practically every sentence. I wonder what it would be like if I used ebonics all the time, in school specifically. “Hey, what up? Can we like go to the fucking library cos I fucking need to get dis shit for Physics done. And while we’re at it can we go bitchslap Michelle cos she is such a fucking hoe.” I also found it amusing how the guys in the movie (who must be in their early twenties) explode like bombs at the slightest provocation. Talk about tempers! And talk about immature and completely shallow.

“You’re such a loser.”

“Who the fuck are you calling a loser?!?!?!”

A fistfight ensues.

I’ll say one thing though: Brittany Murphy is one lucky bitch.

Not to be racist or anything, but I’m not really into black pop culture, or the entire hip-hop, ghetto, gang thing–whatever you call it. It reminds me too much of the jologs here. I can’t really blame the jologs for wanting to fit in, even if it means having to be a poseur. But geez. Why can’t everyone just be themselves?

After the movie, my sister, Angelica and I ran into Maricris, Glyka and Frances in the restroom. This time, we only exchanged comments about the movie and didn’t bother trying to hang out with each other anymore. I have a strange feeling that I’ll end up keeping in touch with only Angelica and Kriya after high school. The others–I find a really hard time trying to relate to them, especially when they’re hanging out with Bosconians. It’s like I live in a world entirely different from theirs, and their inside jokes and the slang they use are foreign dialects to my ears. Likewise, they probably think that I’m this really bitchy snob just because I speak English a lot (which I guess is kind of true).

High school relationships suck.