Being wise and brave and right

I have loved him but I am no longer the love-drunk teenager he knew while five years has done nothing to him. I just knew — it’s time to go.

They applauded. They said I am wise and brave and right.

I didn’t know being wise and brave and right hurts.


Bionight: To go or not?

I know I have more important things to worry about — final exams, a possible removal exam in swimming class (yes, in my world it is possible to have a conditional grade in P.E. class), how to get rid of the mice in my dorm room (or at least, lure them away from my food basket because come on, what do they need coffee for?), and of course, facing the question, What’s next after college? (that’s assuming I will be graduating this academic year) — but right now there is this one petty dilemma that has been bothering me for some days now:

BIONIGHT: to go or not to go?

Bionight is a year-ender party organized by Bio majors that … well actually, I do not know what it really is supposed to be. But here is what I know: it is a college party which practically equates to booze and staying up all night, having fun (Read: Getting wild).

For seniors, this Bionight is the last one —  a marker that we are almost through our last year as undergraduates. Thus, for many, it is imperative that I at least make an appearance that might as well be a sort of confirmation that I have been here the whole time. But should I?

For the past three years, I have not gathered enough bravado to go to Bionight. Or to any college party, actually. The thing is, I have always hated parties, formal or casual.

First, I hate dressing up. Getting my face and hair done is such a bother and my feet and legs are no longer used to my former best friends — that is, my high-heeled shoes. No one can drag me into any party wearing my lowly flats. What would my mother say?

My ex-best friends.
My ex-best friends.

Second, it is always physically exhausting. Party music is also unhealthy for my delicate ears. It is difficult to pretend you are having fun when there is that painful pounding in your ears that you cannot simply ignore. Plus, with my resting bitch face, parties mean putting on my “friendly face” which requires too much work for my poor facial muscles. Anyone who tells me that aching ears and facial muscles are worth it must be absolutely crazy.

Me in parties. Facial muscles get tired, too.
Me in parties. Facial muscles get tired, too.

Third, the dancing. I love dancing but definitely not the kind that they do in parties (disclaimer: I am judging from what I see in their photos). Instead, I prefer slow dancing. Cheesy, I know. But slow dancing gives one a chance to actually talk with his or her partner. Slow dancing, thus, can help build friendships, solidify existing ones, and provide opportunities for future conversations. On the other hand, shameless grinding and shaking leads to awkward encounters days, weeks, months, or even years later. Trust me on this — some things I did in my high school prom still haunt me to this day.

Sorry but I do not need any more of these.

Lastly, the drinking. I will be a liar if I say I have never touched alcohol. But I have never been too wasted and I have no plans of trying to be, even for just once. You see, the morning after, people regret the number of shots they had. For the past three years, I have had no regrets.

Okay, I guess I'd rather not drink.
Okay, I guess I’d rather not drink.

People tend to quote Einstein every time they convince me into doing something I have never tried before (really, so many different people has already told me this quote that it’s getting creepy):

“A person who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.”

Of course, he is right. But I do not think I am ready to make this mistake yet.

So should I or should I not? Enlighten me, please.

Happy Best Friends’ Day! (from the girl with no best friend)

So today is the day to honor that one person who totally gets you, the one who stayed by your side in tears or in laughter. Happy Best Friends’ Day! Sadly, I have no one to celebrate the day with.

Yes, I do not have a best friend. I do have a couple of close friends but there is really no one who I can truly call my BFF. This is not something that I planned. I am actually longing for a friendship like that of Robin and Lily of How I Met Your Mother or like that of Becky and Suze of the Shopaholic series but I never found that kind of relationship. Somehow, I always find myself in a crowd where, when the boat is sinking, no one would immediately pair up with me.

Lily and Robin of HIMYM
Lily and Robin of HIMYM

“You’re an introvert, that’s why,” my sister would explain. She may be right. I have been quite reticent, even as a child, and I do not mind spending my extra time alone. I rarely recite in class. I tend to be quiet during lively discussions except at home which is the only place where I can be seen chattering. I have always been reluctant to approach other people, especially teachers. I shy away from college parties for the fear of spilling my own secrets after a few shots. These are not exactly top secrets but these secrets define me and I am not yet ready to share these with anyone. Plus, many of these secrets are really embarrassing.

My mother blames herself. She said they used to hide me from my grandfather who had no idea that she and Dad were together. She thus hypothesized that the fact that I was a secret baby may be the reason why I became too secretive and often hesitant to talk with people I am not familiar with. But I disagree with Mom. I have now figured out what’s wrong: it’s my face.

I used to wonder why I am good at intimidating people unconsciously. It dawned on me lately when I chanced upon this article from Cosmopolitan Philippines. Reading it was like a eureka moment that I kept on exclaiming, So true!

I understand you, girl.
I understand you, girl.

So that was the problem – my resting bitch face. After reading the article I remembered rushing to the bathroom to look at my face. I stared at my unsmiling self for a full minute then I end up laughing (it was good I was alone in our dorm room that time as my roommates might think I was going crazy). I realized that if I were another person, I would not find it easy to approach that lady with that tiger look in her face. So to all those people who I had shooed off because of my mataray face, my deepest apologies. I did not mean to do so. True, I am not talkative but I am not unfriendly.

So again, happy best friends’ day to all who have found their soul sisters! And as for the best friend that I still believe that I am yet to meet, please do not be afraid of me. Believe me, it’s just my face. 😀