I can't believe everybody's talking about the Cheerdance competition in Multiply. I can't believe TV Patrol's news report on the Cheerdance affair was that short and dumb. I can't believe everybody's this ecstatic and this affected about college girls dancing in skirts and college boys dancing in ugly, tight leotards. I can't believe ABS CBN news reporters are that bad.

I can't believe I'm saying these things in a delicate moment when eveybody wants to be so jumpy and happy and proud.

When I woke up today, my torso hurt so badly because I only had a blanket wrapped around me while I slept on the floor. My whey protein-overloaded brother kicked me out of the lone decent mattress in the house and it actually never bothered him that his brother of such minor age and such delicate emotion was sleeping on the freaking cold, hard, floor.

Flash forward to this day, I found myself sitting in UP chapel, thirty minutes after having dinner with my emotionally-corroded worst-HS-friend [lol], Katrina, fifty minutes after our taxi ride laden with stories about our seaman-friend Jayson, and approximately one and a half hour after my frustrated attempt at decently singing UP Naming Mahal in front of an ecstatic UP Pep Squad.

As I tried to block off Father Jojo's sermon from my involuntary cognitive powers, I kept thinking of why the hell I lined up for UAAP Cheerdance tickets in the first place. Only to find myself squeezed in the stairway with people pushing me like I wasn't even supposed to be there. Only to find myself so exhausted that the thought of the victory wasn't even sweet in any sense.

In Rodic's, thirty minutes before Father Jojo broke the bread and gulped the wine, Katkat and I were talking about why Jayson should not be roaming around in Europe, why we never attended his despidida party, and what had become of our lives when we were dumped in UP. Our conversations made me think again, think back, and ponder on the memories I had left in Tabaco. But I was too hungry for some dramatic responses to her drama queen-mode. It made me shiver to even blurt out ' I miss Jayson, too, you know. We should counsel our selves regularly so we will not be affected so much by this friendship longing.' Lol.

An hour before that I was squeezing my ass and scratching my brown corduroy trying to get decent seating on Araneta's stairway. People were walking by and they were smudging their shoe-dirt on my shirt. They should die, or at least, repent. Katkat, on the other hand, seemed to be so engrossed and ecstatic in screaming out UP cheers while I tried to convince myself that UP was not going to win because they had horrible skin-tone costumes.

That was the biggest bummer of the entire Cheerdance affair for me, that ugly, dull and basahan-looking costume that would have spelled disaster if it wasn't for the given fact that I like the color maroon. I take that back. UST was a bigger turn-off, blow-your-head-in-fury whatever.

UST spends too much money printing tarpaulins. Can't they just, like, hand out their coins to their Dominican fathers for some Divine Intervention?


Two hours after I told Katkat that I wanted to sing UP Naming Mahal with passion, I found myself oily-faced and puffy-eyed in SM North Edsa, looking for my siblings to ask for some moolah. I told them I wanted to color my hair brown because I think that will make me look more Korean. They told me they were poor and that our eldest brother was my one and only chance to get that hot, brown hair. I ended up looking for him at National book store only to find out that he already went home. Talk about sibling conspiracy.

So I ended up buying this Gillette Double Razor Shave at Watson's, because it came free with 42 grams of Mentos Citrus Mix. And an hour after that I was so excited to shave for the fifth time in my life, simply because my new shaving razor whatever was colored orange.