Weekly Photo Challenge: Geometry

The very first thing — or I suppose, very first person —  that comes to my mind when I think of geometry is my old Geometry teacher back when I used to go to Bethel International School. I remember him to be easy-going and the class found him hilarious (his sense of humor catered to teenagers, shall we say). We only had him for a year before he became our Physics teacher.

Anyway, posting a picture of him feels a bit like cheating, so I decided with this one instead:

This picture was taken nearly three years ago, way back in April 2010. It was after a very long, very dull rehearsal for the end of school year’s Recognition Ceremony and I can’t really remember why, but my brother and I were hanging around this monument located somewhere in Tacloban City. I took pictures because back then, my camera and I were literally attached at the hip (I’ve had bruises to show for it!).

I have no idea what the statue stands for; I was quite ignorant back then. I still am now, actually, but I’d like to think that my awareness of current events has improved somewhat. After all, I know that Obama has been re-elected as the US president because it said so on Tumblr.

Um, yeah. Okay. Over and out!


Reflection on Psychology

I remember a couple of years ago, back when I still went to Bethel International, several teachers asked my class what course they wanted to take when they went to college — yes, it’s a given that we were all going to college for high school techinically ends around the age of sixteen. Anyway, some of my classmates answered the generic oh, I want to be a lawyer/doctor/nurse and so I have to take this specific course. Me, on the other hand, had no idea what I wanted to be when I grow up. All I knew was that I wanted to write: stories, newspaper articles, film and television scripts… you name it.

Back then, I had no interests in English Literature, seeing as I had no idea what that was exactly. I figured that I read a lot of books, so that must be enough (oh, how naive I was!!). So, when asked which course I wanted to take, the first thing that came to my mind was Psychology. I’ve always been interested in how people think, why they think the way they do, and what I could do to help. Still, I knew that I was only bluffing. I really didn’t think I was going to do Psychology for college, but it was something I was really interested in.

And I was right, I didn’t take up Psychology in college. In fact, I didn’t even finish high school at all!

I moved to England a year ago, and right now I’m in the middle of my A-levels. One of the classes I’m taking is Psychology and boy, is it fun! The first ever lesson, the teacher began explaining the different approaches to psychology: Cognitive, Behaviourist, Psychodynamic and Biological. I just sat there in the corner of the room, feeling out of place because I had no background in the subject whatsoever. I was near the door, so every time my mind felt overwhelmed, I had this urge to simply up and leave. I mean really… wow. I was finally taking the psychology class I wanted.

I was over the moon. I didn’t mind the work, I didn’t mind the fact that I had to sign out of school every day because the class was being taught in a different school.

So what do I enjoy the most about the class? Is it the experiments? The upper hand in social situations because you know a little bit more about why people behave in certain ways? You’d be surprised at what I like, which is in fact the teacher’s dress code. Yup! My teacher is a nerd and it’s all because of this:

He wear a different one every day, and just today he had Captain America’s shield which was, just to say, incredibly epic. What I found really funny was that he was wearing a Union Jack flag at the time… so there he was, talking about the different kinds of experiments (field, natural and laboratory), and my mind thinking He’s wearing a totally nerdy Captain America belt buckle and a hipster-y Union Jack tie. Talk about irony! It’s things like that that makes my days really wonderful.

Oh, you gotta love irony. And psychology. Psychology is a cool class to take.

Over and out.

Nostalgia [no-stal-juh, -jee-uh, nuh-]


1. a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one’s life, to one’s home or homeland, or to one’s family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time.

The thing is, I just found out from an old classmate of mine that the second batch of seniors from Bethel International School has graduated high school. If you don’t already know, his class is my old one, the one I used to be part of before I left and moved to England and I honestly feel happy for them, though I couldn’t help but feel a poignant sadness about the whole thing.

I mean, graduation. That’s like, leaving government enforced education and choosing to continue your learning further. Apart from those (slightly) overbearing parents, no one’s forcing you to go to college or university or whatever it is you want to call it. It’s your choice.

Anyway — college (or university) is a big step, and it’s a big step that I might have taken if I had decided to stay in the Philippines and just not leave. Of course, pursuing my education here in England is a valid and, arguably, the better option for me… but I miss my friends back home.

Year 2010, Junior Year

Though we weren’t the most innocent lot, I miss the naivety.

Though life was just as tough then as it is now, I miss the easiness of it.

Though I have some awesome friends here, I miss my classmates/friends/family-of-sorts.

I’m not usually this weepy (not that I’m crying or anything… I just have this ache in my chest), but I suppose looking through those old pictures in Facebook did not help. Don’t get me wrong: I like Facebook and the fact how simple it is to save memories, but can’t it stop fueling the fire?? Continue reading

A Dose of Hair-Pulling and Head-Banging

Honestly, does anyone not know when school starts up again?! Yeah, I know, I know —  I’m probably the only one eager for school to get started again but please, please, please, I need to know! Being this far away from Leyte makes me wonder if I’m missing out on anything like, I dunno, the dates when the school opens up for the new school year?

I honestly don’t know how other people do it, going in vacation so far away from where your school is. I understand that with the advances in technology, you can just call the school office or check out its website for any updates. But therein lies the problem: I don’t know what the school number is as one (and we don’t have a landline); and two, there is no school website (as far as I know, anyway). For goodness’ sake, I’m pulling my hair here!

a way to relieve stress

Sigh… I bet I’m the only student out there waiting for school to start up again. Not that I have anything against school, or education for that matter, but to willingly go to an institution where they work your socks off? *eyes turns to slits* Really?

An Essay

Since it’s summer, I’ve been online on Facebook nearly every day. And doing something so often, even something as enjoyable as Facebook, tends to get boring. I was just browsing through the notes I’ve made and stumbled upon this particular entry. It was a school assignment; I had to write an essay (in Tagalog, though this is written in English) about what I would do if I could get away for a year. This is my response:

My teacher assigned me an essay about what I would do if, for one entire year, I was allowed to go anywhere in the world for an all expense paid trip. The first thing that came to my mind was how, about a year or so ago from now, I had taken my large atlas book, flipped through the pages and marked the countries I wanted to visit. I had dreamed then of wanting to travel around the world, learning about the different cultures of each country, all the while relaxing without the care in the world.

It was one of my greatest dreams then, so much so that I had made a mental plan already. First, I would go to Australia, then around the other countries of South East Asia – Java, Sumatra, Cambodia, Philippines. After that, I would go to Korea, Japan and China, and from there I would travel to the Middle East and Russia, cross over to Europe and bag pack through Switzerland, Poland, Greece, Italy, France, Belgium, and Norway. Then I’d fly over to the UK, spend some time with my friends there before flying to the Americas. I’d start with Canada first, then visit all the states in North America (staying longer that usual around the Pacific Northwest – go Forks!), ride a motorcycle down south to Central America, and then to South America. By then, I’d been all over the world, and I then I can find a random school to learn Latin ballroom dancing.

But then I thought, no matter how much I would like to learn about the cultures of this world, the main thing is that I hate traveling. Ever since I was young, I’ve been shuttling back and forth from the Philippines to England and then back again. I like the feeling of home, the feeling of endless comfort, and traveling around wouldn’t give me that. I would be endlessly tired and stressed. I would be internally complaining why I had done this to myself. Believe me, I’m a great complainer.

Home, to me, is a fuzzy image. They say home is where the heart is, but I can’t seem to find it here in the place I’m currently living in. I’m living in my grandparent’s house, and though I love them and my brother to pieces, my heart isn’t here. My mother is staying in Riyadh somewhere in the Middle East; I love her, but how can my heart be there if I’ve never set foot in the place?

So, where is my heart? Well, it’s all the way in 87 Rosalind Street, Ashington, Northumberland. It’s all the way in England. That was where I grew up. What precious few memories I have growing up here in the Philippines are unclear, and I can’t bring myself to appreciate them as much as I do of my memories hanging out with my best friend, running around in parks or just sitting around in my living room watching TV.

Therefore, if I could go anywhere in the entire world for one year, I would choose Ashington. I would choose where my heart is aching to go. I would choose to go to the place where I found the first true best friends I remember having. Many things I wished didn’t happen happened when I was living in England, but many things I wanted to happen happened as well. I was at the stage wherein I was slowly realizing that I was living in this world, not just an empty shell of a child. I felt alive there, and though I feel alive here, too, my life at the moment just holds too much negativity that I try very hard to not think about.

I’d spend my year in Ashington studying for school, hanging out with my old friends and maybe watch Doctor Who every now and again. I’d take my GCSEs, think about which college I would attend, perhaps meet my personal Mr. Darcy along the way. I would eat fish and chips and ketchup flavored Walkers crisps. I would ride double-decker buses to where Lizzie lives. I would taste the snow during winter. I would enjoy life… and then come back to the Philippines once the year is up.

#4 – A picture of your favorite night

I won’t say that this is a picture of my favorite night, because I’m quite optimistic that I’ll have more fun nights in the future. That picture you’re seeing up there, is a messed up take (which was taken on purpose… I think) of something I’m not quite sure of right now.

It was Bethel International School’s first ever prom night. It was my first ever prom night. I danced and had fun and threw all the cares I had out the window. The only down side was that there were teachers in attendance, along with the school principal. But meh — can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.

Oh, if only I had danced with him… sigh. Unrequited love, much?

Me, a Senior? That’s a Foreign Concept

Even though technically, since I’m writing this out during the summer, I’m not a senior. Yes, I’ve graduated from tenth grade and the next step for me is eleventh grade, but that doesn’t mean I can call myself a senior. Well… not yet at least. Just a month more to go!

Garsh, I don’t know if I should be excited or nervous.

On the one hand, I get to see my friends and (though I cringe as I type this) the teachers again. On the other, it’s school. ‘Nuff said, right?

Either way, it’s coming whether I like it or not, so I’m pretty much trying my best to stay positive about this. I mean, my junior year passed by in a flash, so perhaps senior year will be just the same. Albeit, it would be bittersweet. I guess I’m just looking forward to college and living on my own.

Oh, look at me. I’m yammering on and on about being a senior and I don’t even know what it is. Not completely, anyway. So, as always when I’m faced with a problem I could not solve using my intellect, I go to the internet! The Google search engine, to be more precise.

According to Wikipedia:

“High school in the Philippines refers to 4 years of education after 6–7 years of grade school. Children normally enter high school from age 13 or 14 and complete it when they reach age 16 or 17… Classes in the Philippines run from June to March. The levels are usually identified as First, Second, Third and Fourth Year and informally identified by counterpart names in college (i.e. freshman, sophomore, junior and senior).”

According to the Urban Dictionary (and this is the more entertaining meaning):

“A senile old man or woman.”

Wait, that’s not right. Let me try again.

“Seniors are made to destroy any self confidence that freshman may have gained in their past 8 years of schooling. And they do a fantastic job.”

“By far, probably one of the best year out of all four. Pretty exciting, everyone wants to be you, full of great memories.”

Well, I never knew terms such as freshman, sophomore, etc. came form the college counterparts. I thought it was the other way around. Whaddaya know, you learn something everyday! Being a senior sounds fun, and I’m really, really, looking forward to it.