Sometimes I Beg. Always, God Answers.

I'm pretty sure that

I can't replace my genes so that I can have a ballet-worthy body

I can't turn back time to when I was four years old to start ballet

We couldn't have afforded the ballet training for a professional career

I could be very bummed about the whole thing. There are lots of times that I actually am sad.

But I choose to remind myself that I am extremely blessed that

• I am taking ballet classes at 21 years of age.
• My parents are supportive and they provide me with the means to pursue this hobby/passion of mine even if it can be classified as non-value-adding.
• God continually gives me the grace and courage to pursue it and not give up on my weak legs and non-hypermobile back.
• Ballet has become a loud speaker for God in my life. More on this later.

I feel really bad that Blogger botched the first edition of this and then lost it so we will all have to live with this anger-borne post of mine until I settle down enough to retype my thoughts.

And Completing the List is...

Gilda
Tin Yumul
Kikay
Ethel
Did I mention Aimee already?
Arriane
Everyone in the US and Singapore (uncles, aunts and cousins)
Teacher Mylene and all the girls at Turning Point
Everyone at the Sunset Service at DCBC

Thanks to everyone for making my birthday a fun day.

Thanks to Rina and Ida for texting in all the way from California.

Thanks to Jaz for this beautiful can full of my favorite stuff in the world---chocolate!

Thanks to Yam, Apple and Nellie for bearing with my vanity last night.

Thanks to Sheena who made the vanity possible by lending me her digicam.

God bless you people!

Couldn't help myself...

Yeah, place my laptop anywhere within a three meter radius of me and I'll end up in front of it, googling every imaginable thing I can wring out of my brains and trying to think of a post. :)

So far, (because I'd like to think there's more coming) I'd like to thank the following for getting up early (that's relative to me and my Satuday noon time wake-up time) and sending in their wonderful greetings and gifts and calls and prayers and Friendster bulletins :)

Sheena
Mom
Dad
Auntie Lita
Omar
Mikhael
Joy C.
Jaz
Kuya Eigen
Chele
Ate Jojee
Michele B.
Aimee
09286303238
My Aunties and Uncles who've sent in their birthday wishes at the beginning of the month:
Auntie Fina and Uncle Rey
Auntie Remy and Uncle Rene
Auntie Paz and Uncle Nizar

And to my roommates: Nellie, Apple and Gee, and Yam and Fiona for planning the first midnight birthday gig that I haven't been able to predict/guess/crash in a long time. Gals, you all deserve an Emmy for your your sterling performances. Best Actress for Cold, Forgetful Friend goes to Gee who managed to hold my attention so much that I let all clues about the surprise pass me by. Girl, few things hold my attention as well as you did last night. My ADD was temporarily cured. To all of you ladies who witnessed my embarassing "DON'T tell her!!!" last night, cheers!

Oh man, I really feel so bad about that one. "DON'T TELL HER!!!" Geez, I wanna melt and ooze into our red concrete floor.

Teetering on the edge

Mom sent a message this evening exclaiming, “Naneng, legal age ka na bukas!” (Naneng is an Ilocano term of endearment for one’s daughter and the rest translates into “You’re of legal age as of tomorrow”) She went on asking, “What are your plans?”

Plans? What plans? Trick question?

Joke Ma.

Well, on the eve of my 21st birthday, I must admit to feeling somewhat under whelmed. Other than a late dinner with my friends here at the dorm, tomorrow shall pass as just another of my ordinary Saturdays: I’ll wake up around noon, try to get some academic work done, cram the washing of my leotard and tights, go off to ballet class (no chance I’m telling them because it seems so awkward) and then home to pizza and cola.

When people give me surprises, I act like Miranda in SATC: I don’t act touched. I am really, but as usual, I just sit there smiling and not really looking all that excited. This is problematic because I end up feeling so guilty because I know people usually put a lot of effort into stuff like that and here I am, the Corpse Celebrant. (BTW, let’s all watch the Corpse Bride and see if it’s as cool as the trailer makes it look). “Oops, maggots…”

On the tricycle ride home from ballet, I thought about the prayer Teacher Mylene said before class. She thanked God for the gift of life and asked that that gift would be something that each of us would give out by giving out joy, peace and love, by being a gift to other people. I don’t know exactly why but it made me think of all the people who have done exactly that in my life. Since I’m not in the mood for celebrating myself, I think now would be a good time to celebrate the people behind my 21 years of existence (dare I call it a life?). In other words, this is another of those posts where I make like Academy awardee and thank everyone.

MY FAMILY (THIS COVERS IMMEDIATE AND EXTENDED)

For all your help, encouragement and prayers, trips and travails, fun and games, roller coasters and restaurants, memories and love.

My Parents

Thank you for loving me in my most unlovable times. I bet you would even say I had no unlovable times. Thanks for all the support and for letting me know that you will fall and stumble and rise with me every itty bitty step of the way.
Thank you for the guidance that you have to push into my stubborn mind once in a while. I don’t take your dose of parental wisdom that easily either but still you dole it out.
Thank you for all the strict rules (curfew at six, no parties, no boyfriend) that have saved me from a lot of regrets and mishaps. Thank you for your trust and for the forgiveness when I break that trust every now and then.
Thank you for your marriage and for how it has shown me that love is more than an emotion, most of the time it is a will and it involves sacrifice but also that it is worth it. Thank you for your shocked expressions the night I told you that I didn’t want to get married. That is one hilarious memory. I can still see how dad sat up from his comfortable sleeping position.

My Mom

For raising me up surrounded by good books that I have come to love (and really need). I wonder, did it ever feel silly to be reading a book to your tummy? Or to an infant who was more interested in tearing the pages up than in what they meant?
For all the good movies we’ve shared (Emma, Good Will Hunting, Joy Luck Club, etc.) and the discussions about their themes and lessons afterwards.
For afternoon and late-night talks on almost every topic under the sun/moon.
For training me into the neat freak I am. Cheers *Holds up a cup of bleach and dirt remover*

My Dad

For showing me what patience and restraint are.
For the humor.
For my brown hair that I am indeed very vain about. The nose, well, I’ll live. Hehe.
For your own part in my OC-ness. Goodness, my parents breed OCs.
For frowning whenever I tried wearing short skirts/dresses.

My Brothers

For the wrestling, tree climbing and roller-skating.
For being protective, in your own way. (One time, when this particularly persistent guy called our home to try talk to me, my brother answered him saying, “I’m sorry she’s out of the country right now.”)
For trusting me with your secrets, sometimes more than what I bargained for.
For the noodles and oats (Omar’s specialty and Mikhael’s specialty respectively.)
For being crazy. Hehe.

---o---

FRIENDS

Ooh, I’ve just done this. Refer to this post please.

Nellieyah, Gee, Applet, Yamsky

For sharpening my countenance i.e. for helping me build my character. Wink wink.
For the jokes and the laughter, whether I’m the victim or not.
For the card games, movies, and food deliveries.
Gee, for killing the roaches and arriving just in the nick of time.
Nellieyah, for allowing me to escape my sulfuric bed and sit/lie/sleep on your bed and the laundry room talks.
Applet, for allowing me to use you in my stretching and ballet experiments.

Yam, for some reason, this sentence about you doesn't want to join the rest up there and insists on being a space after. Don't let it go into your head. Thank you for taking my vocabulary classes with a great amount of enthusiasm and humor. Best student.

GOD

Thank You for every gift I have.

Ehem...Ehem...EHEM!!!

This nasty cough is just not getting out. It's all stuck in my lungs giving me yet an other reason for labored breathing other than my asthma.

Anyone who has a bottle of Bisolvon to spare is welcome to share it with me.

Jordan posted a really disguhhhhsting picture of roaches on his site. Come to think it of, it can't be his fault that he can't find non-disgusting pics of the pesky things.

Something I wish I could truthfully post:

I'm buying myself a car today.

I have no clue what to look

for in a car other than something

that satisfies my aesthetic requirements.

Any tips people?

Me and my Viewing Choices

I feel somewhat irritated at having to bear criticisms of a TV show I was enjoying earlier.

Yes, I happen to enjoy watching Sex and the City, the whole wacky, confident and funny bunch of friends led by Carrie Bradshaw. I do have to fast-forward on certain scenes and there are conversations where the topics aren’t those you can say in polite society. But, other than that, there’s the great friendship, the funny stories, Carrie’s and Big’s love story, the growing up pains of each woman and the really awesome fashion. There’s Samantha’s breast cancer, Charlotte’s infertility, and Miranda's career and marriage. I somehow identify with Miranda's cynicism and Charlotte’s hopeless “romanticism”. I enjoy watching it just like I enjoy watching Friends or Desperate Housewives or Ally Mcbeal.

I don’t think that it’s something they wrapped a shallow story in just to get the scenes out. The title, I know, gives such an impression. But, as Carrie describes her column in the series that bears the same title, it is not about sex; it’s about the death of romance and searches for love. Besides the hilarious friendship between the four gals.

Of course, we Christians with notions of waiting for our GW’s wouldn’t agree with the whole dating/romance/friendship scheme going on. However, what can you expect from it anyway?

Dare I say… Sex, love, romance in ways we wouldn’t have them are always almost in programs on TV.

It’s the way the world is, it’s the way most women think, it’s the way we (I?) wish my friendships were.

Friends had them. Desperate Housewives have them. Ally Mcbeal had them. Bridget Jones, Jerry Maguire, Divine Secrets…

Let’s just say, I don’t expect it to be minus all that. I just deal with it.

It may just be the irritation speaking. That and probably a lot of rationalization.

Anything But Short

I feel so chatty tonight so forgive the long post of stories and thoughts whose only unifying characteristic is that they happened today. :) I am in such dire need of human contact. Yeah, I know you're all thinking "But you have roommates!" Trust me, I'd run them dead with tonight's energy in me.

---0---

SWEATING MY SLEEP

I got into a pair of pajamas and socks this morning (around 12:30am) because it was freezing. Imagine, me getting the chills in Manila of all places! It's been raining for about four days straight already so the city(?) hasn't seen the sun for quite a time. Usually I enjoy this kind of weather because I'm the type of gal that needs the electric fan directed at her on the maximum speed level all the time, all the days of my life. Last night, my muscles created an exception to the rule. They were so sore after ballet and the cold was making them act up more so I bundled up and slipped under a doubly folded blanket. Before going to sleep I pushed my now unused electric fan (I think I heard it sigh with relief) into a corner far from my bed. The warmth felt so good.

Until later this morning that is. The sun finally showed up and there I was under my thick blanket and in jammies and socks. I was so sweaty and hot but at the same time too drugged by sleep and too paralyzed by pain to get up and switch on the fan. Never did 2.5 meters seem so far away.

So I kicked off the blanket and settled for sweating the rest of my 8 hour slumber. It wasn't comfortable, but it was still sleep.

Probably only my roommates can appreciate the frustration of the incident. :p

---0---

PAINFUL BEAUTY

Over lunch in McDonalds, conversation between me, Nellie and Kuya Eigen turned to ballet and pain. People think that ballet gets easier on the body (i.e. less painful) over a long period of dancing it. Unfortunately, that isn't true. Everything basically becomes possible but not painless. Even principal ballerinas, the best of the best, complain that they go to bed each night aching, wake up aching and go dance aching. Karen Kain, principal ballerina of the National Ballet of Canada once said, "I wake up each morning thinking that my ankles will shatter when I touch the floor."

After some exchange on this point, Kuya Eigen said "Ballet is positively medieval!"

Think corsets.

I liked the phrase so much I told my teacher about it and she really likes it too. In fact, when she goes touring the archipelego and teaching in different schools later this year, she plans on using it as a description.

Later in the evening, Monica asked "If ballet hurts that much, why do you do it?" Good question and nice timing (I'm now feeling really sore in the ankles and legs precisely because I'm training for pointe shoes). I told Monica, "You fall in love with it and you dance and the pain is just a part of this whole thing that you fall in love with."

---0---

Speaking of ballet, my turnout if getting better! Sorry, but I'll take my victories where I can.

---0---

PREHISTORIC ORIGINS

Me and Kuya Eigen chatted some at the DCF Alumni Homecoming (not precise conversation, a murky memory):

Kuya Eigen: Now I know how dinosaurs feel.
Me: Huh? Explain.
Kuya Eigen: I feel prehistoric. (FYI Kuya Eigen is an alumni. He graduated, I think, last year.)
Me: Haha, I like being with you. It makes me feel young. I am turning 21 afterall.
Kuya Eigen: You get to be my age for a couple of weeks.
Me: Huh?
Kuya Eigen: I'm 21.
Me: Nooo?
Kuya Eigen: Yeah, I'm 21. I'll be turning 22 in October.
Me: Wow, I'm prehistoric too! So much for feeling younger. Nice going Kristina.

For those of you unacquainted with the custom, Filipinos call older guys "Kuya" and older girls "Ate". "Kuya" is also applicable to one's pastor.

---0---

CARDINAL RULE #1 OF RELATIONSHIPS

I learnt something about relationships this afternoon.

NEVER SAY "I TOLD YOU SO." IN RELATION TO HAIR INCIDENTS. IN FACT NEVER SAY IT AT ALL.

Suggested Alternatives:

1. Nod head and smile sympathetically.
2. Pat friend's back
3. If the above suggestions seem impossible, just shut up.

---0---

Just found out Ate Sharon from church has read all my God rants (as I have chosen to call them). I felt weird having a churchmate go through those particular posts but at the same time it was nice to hear her say "Don't worry, it's a common thing." and to know that she was praying for me. Thanks Ate.

---0---

Kuya Eigen, I do hope to hear the Twilight Zone theme opening your concert next year.

---0---

One of my classmates in ballet took off her pointe shoes to find that her toes was bleeding because her toenails were too long. All of us took a look at it. You'd expect her to cry or something but all she did was shrug her shoulders and say, "We've been through worse."

One for My Friends

Pastor Jong tackled relationships again in his sermon last Sunday. I'm finding his sermons very practical and, well, very revealing.

At the start of the message, the following showed up on the screen (a paraphrase):

Maybe you feel hurt most of the time. Disgusted with a person? Frustrated? Do you feel a lot of internal tension because people make you mad but you're afraid to say something. Do you hear people say "I don't feel like you respect/care for me." or "I can't read your mind. Tell me what's going on."? These are areas where your relational skills need improvement.

I was sort of floored by the questions. I gave an affimative nod to every statement. Plus, my long string of best friends popped up in my head, a disturbing reminder that over the course of 15 years, I have gone through 6 best friends. Five of those friendships ended on a bad note. I'm on my seventh. If this sounds vaguely of a girl talking about boyfriend relationships gone wrong, well, you're not the only one with that impression.

Truth is, outside of my close-knit family, I'm horrible with relationships. I may appear calm and forgiving and extremely long-suffering but I do have this streak of revenge-seeking rage in me. You only have to talk to Ed or prod the long story out of me to give you an example. Nellie actually said I was scary after I told her about that particular high school story of mine.

I'm not charged to work at relationships most of the time. I call only a few people my friends, at most two out of that category will be my best friends. I think that if I had a lot of friends, my relationship with them would be somewhat shallow. I can't spread myself too thinly. Still, with the handful that I have, I'm not that great at them either. If I thinned the crowd a bit more, that wouldn't be healthy.

I'm proud. I'm selfish. The world, at the end of the day, has to be about me. Sometimes, I get jealous and end up trying to put the other person down to make myself feel better. I'm not someone who encourages. I'll mostly and bluntly tell you the truth---or I'll keep it from them and not say anything in a desperate attempt to avoid conflict---which (either way) ends up with me feeling very frustrated. I get easily tired of being such a disappointment to other people that I don't even try sometimes. And I make the worst jokes ever(!). I'll shut you out most of the time and try to hold the fortress on my own.

Last Sunday, I realized how there's always two versions of a story in a relationship. I wonder what my friends are saying/feeling about me. God knows, with the few people I consider friends, I have a lot of whining going on.

Anyway, as I don't seem to have this whole thing concretized into more rational thought just yet, I'd like to end on this note:

Charlize Theron said this in her message at a Golden Globes Ceremony: "There's only so much you can do but if no one gives you a chance, there's nothing you can do."

I am feeling grateful for all my friends who are giving me second chances again and again, despite what I do to them. Guys, thank you so much for bearing with the Fortress Keeper and her eccentricities. Thanks for all the reminders and the firm belief that God is at work in me.

Aspirations

There is this music video of "Demo" by German artist Herbert Groenemeyer *** that makes me want to weep each time I see the sheer beauty and grace of the ballet featured in it.

Principal ballerina of the Berlin Staatsoper Ballet, Polina Semionova, dances in it.

I don't know, maybe I'm of a very biased opinion, but I think whether you love ballet or not, you'll appreciate this.

I know I do. I actually cry sometimes just watching it.

*** Right click link, Save Target As, Download it, Open in Real or Quicktime. Enjoy.

The World is All But Fair

Time my classes end: 1:00pm
Time classes were suspended: 1:00pm

---( )---

In other news, dreaded exam is this Wednesday. I have accomplished 75% of all necessary preparations for the battle. I'm not sure if I have it all figured out though. That part makes up the 20%. The remaining 5% is the run-over of past lessons.

So let's all remember that pact.

---( )---

Wow, my blog is so meaningful---it's full of rants. And that, in itself, is another example.

---( )---

I wanna go home. I was thinking of going home this weekend but then there's two reasons I should stay put here:

1. DCF Alumni Homecoming on the 17th.
2. Ballet class

Perhaps I should be more willing to stay for the DCF activity but the ballet class is the one holding me back from home. Teacher Mylene even texted me saying she would love to see me in class again last Saturday before my killer 3p-8p exam. I miss the dancing (or should I say, attempts at dancing).

Talking about dance, I've started listening to I Can Only Imagine (Mercy Me) and trying out some steps. Kuya Butch texted a week ago asking me to choreograph it. Some people have said that December and the Christmas Cantata is way off, but trust me, the choreo process hates rush. I've been trying out steps for a week and I've come up with steps for the first stanza and the "climax chorus". I actually have two variations for the first stanza.

Problem is, while all steps fit the melody, they don't seem right. I don't feel I'm trying to tell a story when I perform the steps. I think it's because I've mainly sewn together steps I've learnt or seen, very mechanically, paying heed only to the music not to the message of the song.

The truth is, when I try to just "feel" the song, to try dance the message, I just stand there through most of the song. Choreographing the song this way has gotten me only as far as the FIRST line "I can only imagine, what it will be like to walk by your side." And guys, I hate standing still. Just like I hate it when I know I'm going through one of God's waiting rooms again.

That makes me try to come up with a dance on my own. Most of the time, I get something done. But it never fits.

So I guess this project needs more time in His waiting room again. It is His dance anyway. And I am His dancer.

Breaking the Seal

After a week of news-hermetic living, almost worthy of the seal on a cardiac arrest unit on an ambulance, I headed to Google News for a much needed update. Here's some of the stories that struck me:

PROTESTANT PARADE TURNS VIOLENT

AT least a dozen police officers and two civilians were wounded as Protestant extremists threw homemade grenades, petrol bombs and other makeshift weapons in fury over a restricted Belfast parade...

Tsk, tsk, tsk... And I naively thought it was all over.

EVACUEES PRAISE RED CROSS (HURRICANE KATRINA)

Do pray for the people over there who've suffered.

And for all the volunteers, medical personnel, social workers, etc.

UN REFORM HOPES HIT BY ANNAN CRISIS

THE PASSION OF KOFI ANNAN

For the last two, I need time to think things over.

And do that research into the UN.

Try, At Your Own Risk, To Imagine

Not too long ago, as I sat in the mess hall devouring my second helping of Palabok, I uttered affectionately (read: emotion-packed) into my plate of pasta:

"I have spent half of my life without you."

And that I said to a plate of Palabok, a dish I wasn't acquianted with until I was 11 years old.

Now take that into consideration and try to imagine just what I'd say when I finally talk to the man Gods intends for me.

Dizzying implications, I know.

Pining...

If only you... and I... then maybe...

Sadly

i do not mean to demean you
or engage in any war
my leaps and turns
are not driven by contempt

this is the blight on my love
that without intention
in its strength and beauty
you feel only small

Therapy & Double-stuffed Oreos

You'd think that the combination of an all-nighter and no breakfast, no lunch would be lethal.

Well, I somehow managed. Not really well though, but I'm okay. I had to skip my Stat 131 class (11-1p) because I was so dizzy from the lack of food, drink and sleep. So how I managed to get through my 7AM class earlier, I have no idea.

What happened was I stayed up all night doing my problem set in Stat 131. The thing's a group effort but I was guilt-driven to do at least half of the work this time because last time, a poor group mate of mine did it practically all on her own since the other (including me) didn't understand any of the lessons enough to know a MLE from a MME.(1)

Then, I had no time to eat breakfast. Then I slept through lunch period. Then, it was off to the group meeting to finalize answers to the problem set. Then to the College of Music to watch a "Strings, Drums and Gongs of Asia". Then to the library to pick up much-needed supplementary reading for my Stat 135 exam. Then, finally home to much needed comfort food, double-stuffed oreos and therapy at The Porch.

Sorry, sabog.

So now, I'm struggling to avoid catatonia. Chew woman, chew!

On a more general point of view, I had a fun day. I bonded with my other sleep-deprived classmates. I found a couple of new friends over a caffiene session. I got to answer 4 out of 8 questions correctly in the problem set. I got to watch an amazing concert that makes me want to learn the koto(2). (See photo) But I'll wait that out. Usually, my desire to learn musical instruments fades a month after the concert. If by October, I'm still bent on learning the koto, well, then, I'll cross the bridge when I get there. And I was so touched by Jonathan who bought the double-stuffed oreos for me.

The coolest thing about today? I could feel God being my crutch the whole day, helping me through it and giving me the calm in the face of so much to do.

Kids, remember the pact. Thanks!

Ciao!

(1) In case, you wanted to know: MLE = Minimum Linear Estimator and MME = Mean Moments Estimator.
(2) A Japanese zither of 13 strings of equal tension stretched over bridges.

My Cheatsheet: God

Okay, maybe "cheat" and "God" shouldn't go in a sentence together. Oh, but you know what I mean.

I'm so thankful for how my Stat 124 exam turned out. My program actually ran, no hitches no unknown identifiers, no syntax errors, no mistakes. Seamless. Perfection galore. I couldn't believe it. I seldom manage to do that. My lab partner often gets the program to run after I manage to make a mistake in it.

And so, I thank God for the much-needed wisdom I was hankering Him for this morning before the exam. Thank You, thank You, thank You.

It really gave me a boost to come out of an exam room knowing I performed well.

And it's a boost I really need for my next three exams:
Friday: Music Literature
Saturday: Stat 135
Next Wednesday: Stat 13

I also have a Stat 131 problem set we're going to finalize tomorrow and that'll keep me up tonight. And then tomorrow, I have to watch a concert so I can make that pesky reaction paper for my Music Literature class.

So I'd much appreciuate your help. Every hour go "God, help Kristina pass her Stat 131." from the moment you read this until the end of this semester (i.e. third week of October, to be sure). It's a pact, folks. :)

Thank you for your compassion.

End of study break.

Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Uh-huh.

This afternoon, The Porch decided to go MIA. I typed in my blog addres to check in on the place, and lo and behold!, all the window gave me was my nice blue linen background. Maybe it's still loading? Nope, nice little bar at the bottom says DONE. So I press Refresh. Nope, still my background coming on, nothing else. Hmmm...let's try again. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Uh-huh. Interesting. What's with my site?! Let's not panic...Aha, will access it from a friends site (Voice in the Back of My Head: "Duh Kristina, what's the diff?")...Okaaaay...Where has my blog gone?!

Five hours later, it's back. You're grounded Porch. IndefinitelyDon't you ever go sneaking away like like that, again. Do you understand me?

Boy, I'm thinking parenting moments like these are fun. Of course, my mom would disagree and quite strongly at that.

Ohhh, do I miss home.

---*-*---

God times are still something of a struggle. As a very emotional person, when I don't feel anything, I'm worried. I'm not getting the longing to read His word.

But every night, I do feel the urge to just sit still and talk to Him. I imagine us in a coffee shop. I don't know why. We've had awesome conversations lately. Mostly me talking and crying. But, God's just so good. It was kind of hard to break it to myself that having God in my life makes all a huge difference, that He isn't angry and just thirsting to punish me, most of all that He cares a lot about me despite what I think. Or do. I keep expecting Him to rebuke me on my pride and rebellion. So at first, I was really uncomfortable. But, He's just been kinda listening. Just being there. Just reminding me about His love.

The sin I had clung to now seems easier to turn away from. I actually found myself walking away from another oppurtunity at temporary pleasures. That made me go "Whoa!" Humbled me a lot because that was just really His doing.

I've been sleeping better since Sunday night. Not earlier. But better.

Sigh again...

Okay, know what? This week's goal is to fix my quiet times.

I get tired thinking of all the praying and studying, encouraging and building up of relationships, motivating and sharing I should be doing inICF. I get tired getting over a sin of mine i.e. pride issues. I get tired worrying about who and what or even where I should be.

I have this love-hate relationship with striving. I love it because it makes me feel like I might actually be going somewhere with it and that I might actually be accomplishing what I ought to by it. At the same time, I know I can't do it on my own and I hate the weariness that's the major side-effect of trying to speed things up in your spiritual growth by using yourself as a catalyst.

Yeah, so for now, it's just them dates with the Lord. Let's just drop the whole activity and expectations list and go be with Him Kristina. I'll be dragging myself to most of them, I know, but I believe that He can still speak to me and just be with me if He wants to. Well, He promised to.

My AP said something that really banged a crack in my pride and stubborness:

"Just the small things. It is better to understand a little than to misunderstand a lot. Don't expect that you'll be perfect because this is a process. I go to meet God not to know Him more but for because I think He is happy that I remember that we have a date. And that He is happy with me means a lot."

Sigh...

Miraculously, I turned up at church today. If it hadn't been for Nellie's "I can't miss service for two weeks!" speech, I would've been as relentless as last week. They celebrated the Lord's supper today and I found myself in weird situation. I didn't think I should take communion but at the same time I wanted to avoid questions into my spiritual health so I took some of the bread...but didn't eat it. However, there was no way I could make the wine disappear...so I drank it. Evil, evil Kristina.

Well, you know part of the reason I did get a piece of the bread and a cup of wine was because I was like "Lord, really messed up lately. Please forgive me. Give me some measure of peace that I can go ahead and take this." but I just felt so bad.

Yeah and I went to the CR after that and threw away the piece of bread. And stood there crying, half expecting lightning to come down and kill me. Yes, it was raining. And hard. So, yeah, it was a possibility.

I am a mess. I know.

And I just realized... I live for comments these days.

Oh yeah, I have a boyfriend...My stat textbook. He treats me fabulously.

To the Pointe #5: A Ballet Class

Harhar...Here's another installment of "Let's pretend my life is so exciting"...Airing live from the 122 Studios. Starring...me. :)

Funny that I should be posting on this since I'm absent from class tonight. I'm feeling really bad around my midsection. Yeah, it's that time of the month.

Anyway, I wanted to take pictures of the class so I could post them along with my (not very helpful) comments on what goes on in this lovely dance studio over at the Celebrity Plaza every Fridays and Saturdays. But, I can't exactly take pics when I'm doing barre and center work. No one else is allowed to hang out at the studio unless Teacher Mylene allows them too. And I'm to shy to ask for permission both from Teacher Mylene and the friend I'm thinking will make a good photographer. And I don't know how my classmates will react either. So my commentary of sorts has to suffice.

Pink tights are worn by every student. The leotard varies from level to level. There are three levels so far: A, B and C. Level A consists of 3-7 years old kids and they wear pink leotards and skirts. Level B's are usually 8-11 year olds who can be distinguished by their blue leotards and skirts. Level C's are the adult beginners and anyone older than 11. We wear black leotards and skirts. A student isn't necessarily assigned by age to a level. The teacher's examine your skill level and place you where you can learn most. Some students get promoted to the next level. For adult beginners like me and Rei, we attend the Level B class to get acquainted with terminology and to build familiarity with the different movements. But we also attend the Level C class that has more complex exercises and helps you toward pointe shoes.

Hair must be held up in a neat, tight bun as shown in picture above. (Yep, that's me...hehe) Minimal make-up and clean, short nails are another rule. Must admit that I don't usually go there with short nails.

Most students are in soft shoes. Even the advanced ones in pointe shoes bring their soft shoes. The girls on pointe shoes say that being in soft shoes is so much better, so much more comfortable. Those of us in soft shoes want to be on pointe shoes. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.

A typical class starts even before your scheduled time. As a student, it is encouraged that you come to the studio early to warm up and stretch. I go there at least fifteen minutes before class. We use the barre to do solitary stretches. Sometimes, another student will offer to help you on stretches like splits where you need someone to give you a helpful push.

The teacher will call you when she wants to start a class. Teacher Mylene usually starts a class with a prayer. Teacher Rara goes straight to the barre exercises. The class can start with barre exercises or stretches or strengthening exercises. The teacher decides based on what she thinks the class needs.

The barre exercises in themselves are pretty unpredictable too. But we always work on plies, battements, fondues, pirouetes and jetes. They help you improve your technique and build your strength and flexibility. Usually, the teacher starts with a few steps for each exercise and then adds to them next meeting to make them more challenging. It’s in this part that most corrections are made. The teacher will be touching you a lot to direct and mold your body. Parents of younger students are given memos on this since they might not feel comfortable with the teacher touching bottoms and thighs. It can be shocking at first when the teacher runs a finger down your bottom to make you understand the concept of “no shelves allowed” i.e. don’t stick your butt out!

After barre work, we do center work. This is usually another set of exercises. I find them challenging because this time there’s no barre to hold on to for balance. But it’s also the part I love best because we do leaps and jumps and twirls a lot. Sometimes we learn the steps to a particular song. There’s usually a lot of giggling involved. In between exercises, we run to our bags to gulp down water. This part can get really tiring.

When the class ends, we all do a reverence, which is something of a curtsy. Then we go to our teacher, take her hand in what Filipinos might mistake as the beginning of a mano, and then we curtsy to her.

After that, there’s more giggling and jokes/stories while we get dressed or while we’re all lying down on the floor, beat.

The five days that you don’t have class, you are expected to work on the exercises you did in class and stretch. All in all, it’s like having another three units in your college workload. :) But it’s awesome fun.

Icon-not study just yet so I took a quiz...(corny ko)

What Icons are for you?(Thank you for #1!! Please check out my other Memes!!) by ladyallie
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She

Today, she woke up at 9:00 and did some reading in her Music Lit but dozed off around 10:30. Got up at 12:00 to do laundry, ordered lunch and returned to bed to sleep until lunch arrived c/o Gillian. Got up at 1:00 to take long bath and had lunch thereafter. Did some more reading in her Music Lit and listened to African traditional music, which she finds boring. Switched to Chinese classical music which she adores. Flipped laptop open and checked mail. Checked blog. Was shocked at how abandoned it was. Quickly typed up an entry for today. Currently in the mood to review my Stat 135. Apologetic for shallow entry. Sheepishly explains that she is still tired from ballet last night. "The jumps and jetes got to me. I feel run over," she says. Remembers she has another three hour ballet class later. Smiles. Shakes her head. She goes away to bury herself in matrix theory.

Catching Up

It's been another of those busy weeks again. Classes are going to end on the 1st of October so it's exams, exams and exams. Thankfully, I don't have any subjects that require papers. Just the exams.

I had two this week, both on the same day and both scheduled without any interval between them whatsoever. I had my Stat 131 exam from 9a-1p and my Stat 125 exam from 1p-3p last Wednesday. Come Thursday, my roommates were reminiscing on how great a day the previous one was because all they did was sleep. I said, "Really? It didn't seem all that great to me."

I probably failed my second exam in my Stat 131. Not for lack of review, I guess. I did spend almost three weeks on it. Well, I did my best.

Something "exciting' happened during that exam though. Someone was caught cheating!!! Oh my goodness! I felt so bad for my professor who's this really patient, kind guy. He does his best to impart all this statistical theory and he's a professor of ours for three consecutive semesters already. It was so shocking to find that someone had the nerve to bring a copy of the sample exams with her into the exam. I mean, I do understand the desperation that grips most of us during exams in this particular subject since it is the prerequisite of all our subject next semester. But, di ko kayang gawin yun.

There's this "HONOR EXCELLENCE" printed on our bluebooks (our usual exam paper here in UP), just below the printed seal of the university. We put our signatures under it in what I understand to be our pledge to that code of honor and excellence.

I feel so bad for our professor and lately, really annoyed at the person who cheated because now, Sir Lans won't allow us to bring the distribution tables to exams. While it makes it easier for him to tell if someone is cheating (because there's another sheet of paper other than his bluebook on his desk), this also means we have to memorize a LOT of formulas. And I hate memorizing.