Announcements

7/29/2013: Don't miss me when I'm gone, for it's only temporary.: A self-explanatory apology.

6/26/2013: It's a sale!: I'm not going to impose it on you; it's just that I've decided to have some items up for sale. Feel free to take a peek. No charges for a mere view. *winks*

Monday, July 28, 2014

7/28/2014

Oh my God!

The amount of clutter stashed in the cabinets is horrific! It ate a week out of my schedule just to clear a portion of it and it's still an unfinished business. I'm not sure how much mess has been amassed over the years and I've not the slightest clue on expanding the empty space in the house.

Throw in the fact that the Carries are immersed in their separate career designations and unable to actually sit down to help me to eliminate the things that they no longer require at a time when the family's toying with the idea of moving out of the quirky neighborhood once I'm settled in the university life. Truth be told, I'm slightly in favor of the idea but as long as we are able to secure another unit and transfer the larger items there first. For my part, however, although I know I've until September to filter the items that must be brought there, I've to begin now because of the long, arduous process that spans at least 4 months.... you know, when there are enormous articles, one would feel constricted.

After discussing with my lecturers over my dilemma earlier on Paths A and B, I've concluded that for someone who's never experienced the severe snowfall, it's better to stay on familiar grounds before I am miserably frozen for three straight months... or more. As previously hinted at in one of the earlier posts, the quality of education is indeed important but my happiness as a university student is more significant. It's an understatement to relate that I'll be insane before obtaining the BA degree because it could occur. Like what my Media Arts lecturer mentioned, not many people are aware that one's ability to cope with freezing affects his/her academic performance.

"When you're miserable, you're not happy. And when you're not happy, your grades will slide because you don't have the mood to focus" - was what I deduced from our conversation.

I never knew I was capable of being an intelligent student until second semester in CPU arrived and to compensate for my mistake as a reticent junior, I need to ensure the GPA score is near perfect. It's almost an impossible feat, but I have to because I want to (or more like need to) shove the degree down some people's throats after being at their merciless authority for years.

It is only after I have confirmed the university acceptance letter will I then reveal the Australian state that I'm heading to.

Until then, I'm harboring the desire to escape the haze that's succeeding the burning heat.

Friday, July 25, 2014

"Art Imitating Life"

She hugged the History textbook closer to her chest, not realizing that the pressure was causing her sternum to ache. It was her first day as a junior in the unfamiliar surroundings and she was a sole musketeer since all of her friends were under a different matriculation program, though under the same roof, or only joining her during the next intake.
    Oh well, she thought. I don't blame them either. We're all heading to divergent routes after our foundation course. It's sooner or later that we have to leave each other's nest. I might as well learn to cope with it now by living, eating and breathing studies. With a sigh, she shoved the door to the classroom open and didn't know what to think when she saw that it was empty. The paper slip that she held and wristwatch she wore indicated otherwise; she was in the correct place and not running behind schedule. Suspecting that she may've arrived earlier than the would-be classmates, she strode on and settled in her seat, the further away from the whiteboard, the better.
    She was less than interested in attracting attention or even establishing acquaintances with anyone just yet. What she wanted was some time to be accustomed with the way things rolled on campus, but she failed to realize that her awkwardness was attracting more attention than desired or expected.
    It was shortly after that more of the students dashed into the classroom and the notebook that was sprawled in front of her assisted her to feign that she was engaged. The lecturer was the last to arrive and as he walked in, he greeted the class before taking attendance. With that being done, he came forward and sat one of the empty tables in front. He initiated the icebreaking process by mentioning that he was Mr. Anthony, and he looked like he was in his mid-thirties with wind-blown brown hair. He spoke at the volume of a speaker, something that bothered the students immediately because they were frightened by the notion of him being vocal about issues. His projection, however, was to allow the entire classroom to understand the context of his lectures without him having to repeat himself.
    He gave the floor to them to continue the cycle, randomly selecting the pupils concurrently. Being the first to introduce herself was nerve-wrecking because she was unsure on what to say, but she used Mr. Anthony's presentation as an example and took it from there. With shaky hands, she casually left the workbook on the table and rose to her full height.
    She was Patricia, a short-haired brunette with a sharp chin and adorable round brown eyes. Her hourglass figure accentuated the flowy floral dress and short-sleeved white shirt that she wore, which was complimented by a pair of knee-length leather boots and a charm bracelet around her wrist. She added that although she harbored a vested interest in history and visual arts, her lifelong aspiration was pursue a double major in Law and Communications, either in Australia, Canada or the States.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Coming Home?

Well, not exactly, if you ask me.

Unlike my friend, who admitted that he'd be more than willing to spend a night on campus if it was possible, I'm of the complete opposite. It's not that I dislike the 6th floor, but after an intense and whirlwind year, I didn't really harbor much thought into staying back longer than necessary.

Even then, the return trips lately weren't without errands either.

Returning to campus last week after graduation left most of the acquainted juniors wondering if I am staying for a third semester to retake History and World Issues to achieve a higher aggregate. It was evident in their eyes and words, but all blame shall be absolved because that was the first day of the academic calendar.

How were they to know what I was up to?

Oh, don't misinterpret me. Inasmuch as I should remain for another 6 months to do as the abovementioned, I won't because I'm not revisiting the stress that almost landed me in the hospital plus Mama Carrie doesn't see the significance in reverting to it. In addition, there's so much that I want to do including sleep before the pressured university life and I don't want to miss the boat to Australia again.

I'm still unsure why it sailed without me the first time around.

Let's just say that if I had the car with me, I'd be more than ready to bolt anytime I wanted.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Figurative Headache

Come to think of it, I don't know what is going on now. Just as when I thought I am sure on what I want, I am forced to rethink it again with a different set of consequences and effects.

I was earlier shoved down the route of Path A towards the middle of my junior semester before the bone-chilling Taiwan trip because everyone thought that it was the best choice for the entire family as there were more pros than cons. Let's face it; the climate may not be harsh as Path B and the flight distance is considerably nearer, thus making visits and vacations an ease for both. The Carries, if they wanted to, are able to fly there to spend Christmas and New Year's with me and Lord knows how much Mama Carrie is capable of buying.

The bad side is that I've relations scattered all around and it's more important for me to divert all the time/energy into a BA in Communications that will most probably allow me to obtain an MFA in Film Production and Creative Writing from UBC, Vancouver.

No wonder my heart was nudging me towards Media Arts in lieu of Economics.

A prior knowledge in that subject would definitely prove advantageous for the Communications degree.

If I consider it for the long haul, hell yeah, the pros are siding more towards Path B. Education in the Northern Hemisphere is of higher standards; in fact, it provided the syllabus for both my high school and matriculation. A major plus point is that I'd be free as a bird as none of the relatives are there to hover around me like an authoritarian, but unlike Path A, where I don't have much of an obstacle, the catch in Path B is that I've to rot at home for slightly more than a year (I don't have the luxury to do so anymore; age is catching up =P) and tackle the freezing and severe winter..



(The deepened eye bags are for exaggeration purposes on Photoshop; an intense year at CPU had its effects, but it didn't leave me with the permanent ones)

Enough of the rants. At least I still have until the end of September to report with a final decision. Hopefully, I'll be able to think in a more lucid manner after some neutral exposure and advices.

It's time to seek the guidance from the acquaintance.

I know I'm supposed to pull in more hours of adequate rest and sleep to allow the body to recuperate from the injuries inflicted by the three toughie subjects, not aggravating the deprivation and waddling in a cloud of worries and confusion.

Two consecutive nights of intermittent slumber was all it took to disturb my fragile mental psyche and for a split second, I wondered if I'm on the path to clinical depression because I don't recognize the reflective image of me in the mirror. It feels like I've lost myself and metamorphosed into a different individual. Truth be told, it could have evolved at better time, not when I have to content with the impending departure of a certain someone (it's affecting me as much as it is to him) and resolve the dilemma between Path A and Path B concurrently.

I don't want to be rediscovering my identity in the revolving society in this state of mind.



On the bright side, the amount of time - though limited - does allow me an outlet to concentrate on the flaring interests such as the visual arts and photography. It's finite because in addition to pursuing the hobbies, I have a ton of affairs to handle all together, especially juxtaposed plans for life and work.

Don't be surprised; I always have been juggling a part-time job with studies. It's just that I am toying with the idea of being in a different line.

(Shoot, I shouldn't be listening to Friends Forever by Vitamin C while penning this post! The candlelight memories from my CPU graduation are resurfacing like the water vapor, making my brother and I emotionally disturbed then and now.)

I almost shocked the life out of Mama Carrie when she discovered me one evening, sitting on the cemented floor of our porch and angling the camera at the clover flowering in the pot. Before I enrolled in Media Arts, photography was a far-fetched thing for me. It'd always be Mama Carrie with the eye for the camera (about 75% of the contents of the Australian album was contributed by her).

I definitely would love to explore more with the writing pieces, just not when my muse is stuck in the stream of brain cells or even during the hectic university life. I attempted to continue from where I left off with a novel draft (some friends are aware of this piece) and ended up staring at the computer screen until my eyes screamed for some respite.

There we go.

The heart does feel much better after airing it out. On the contrary, I should head to the kitchen and down loads of green tea (since it's reported to lower depression-like symptoms?).

*points to the image below*

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Chocolate Galore

If you've been on Instagram and Facebook lately, you'd have known by now that I have recently uploaded pictures of my recent baking adventure with chocolate.

Don't roll your eyes in boredom just yet; yes, this recipe may be similar to those, but I've excluded the use of chocolate powder (since I ran out of it) and added soy flour and bread crumbs (instead of allowing it to rot in the fridge after purchasing it from Woolworths Australia last summer) as an experiment.

Needless to say, to convince a fussy critic in Mama Carrie was no easy feat.



Ingredients:

100 g soy flour
100 g cake/pastry flour
1/2 tsp table salt
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
2 Tbsp milk powder
Splash of bread crumbs

1/4 cup of softened butter
2 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp rose water
1 cup of milk
200g softened chocolate bars

Directions:

Oil a 9.5" pie plate.
Sift all dry ingredients into one medium-sized bowl and set aside.
In a large bowl, pour the vanilla and rose water.
Add the eggs, 1/2 milk and 1/2 of the dry mixture before beating it together with an electric mixer until a sticky concoction arises.
Alternate between the rest of the mixture and the milk.
Combine the melted chocolate into the damp batter.
Lay the batter into the prepared baking dish and bake at 180°C/ 356°F for approximately 20 minutes.
Lower the temperature to 160°C/320°F on the bottom tier and bake for another 20 minutes.
Insert a wooden stick and if the stick is coated with only the melted chocolate, it's ready to be served.














Voila!

It is definitely best eaten with a mug of espresso or Americano. *winks*

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Disappointed Grievances

Staring out of the bedroom window and wincing at the amount of life the neighborhood undertook on a sizzling Sunday afternoon, all I can think of is you.... not the university applications or friendly reunions with my mates but you.
Yes, YOU.

As it turns out, my thoughts for you has flowed into the stream of poetic muses woven into one.



The last image I have of you,
It was of you standing at the beach.
The fading sunset was covering half of your face.
In the serenity, there was only your courage.
Three years have forced us apart.
Contact froze between us like rock solid ice.
No late-night calls making us smile like toddlers.

Wait, is that you I see in the distance?
But it's no longer you.
Crumbled with the distance was the person I knew.
The sunny state is engulfing you with the wave of maturity.
Melting with the scorching sun are the love of us
And the carefree days.
Happiness is dancing in your eyes,
As you curl yourself around the arms of another.

The visual pain repeatedly stabs me with angst.
Sorrow spreads out in my heart like a fear,
Penetrating deep into my soul.
Like the flame of the wind,
My face is slicked with uncontrollable tears.

I am reminded of the night of our farewell
Under the pouring azure's howls.
You promised under the bright, starry skies
That we'd be one, forever and always.
Wasn't it only yesterday you ensured me?
Why the sudden reversal today?
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