Mails

After my 3+-hour-long exam for applicants at Ahead Katipunan last Friday, I decided to wait for and go home with Charles who was finishing his thesis in Diliman. Since they weren't still done when I arrived, I went to the main lib to kill time. I grabbed a couple of books which seemed interesting and one of the books I got was The Oxford Book of Letters. It was a collection of letters mostly written by popular people (some were written for popular people while others were simply witty).

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Some, like this one, were actually heartbreaking;

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To Venetia Stanley, 12 May 1913

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Asquith broke of the letter he was writing when he received Venetia's letter announcing her engagement, and wrote this one instead.

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Most Loved,

As you know well, this breaks my heart.

I couldn't bear to come and see you.

I can only pray to God to bless you - and help me.

Yours.

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some were funny;

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To Princess Bibesco, 24 March 1921

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Katherine Mansfield was the wife of critic John Murry. Murry was having an affair with the Princess. Mansfield did not object to the affair, only to the letters.

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Dear Princess Bibesco,

I am afraid you must stop writing these little love letters to my husband while he and I live together. It is one of the things which is not done in our world.

You are very young. Won't you ask your husband to explain to you the impossibility of such a situation.

Please do not make me have to write to you again. I do not like scolding people and I simply hate having to teach them manners.

Yours sincerely,

Katherine Mansfield.

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most would force out an 'awww'.

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To H.G. Wells, 12 September 1943

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Wells was an old friend and opponent of Shaw. Shaw had been very tactless in his dealings with Wells when in 1937, Jane Wells was dying of cancer. Charlotte was Shaw's wife.

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Charlotte died this morning at 2:30. You saw what she had become when you last visited us: an old woman bowed and crippled, furrowed and wrinkled, and greatly distressed by hallucinations of crowds in the room, evil persons, and animals. Also by breathlessness, as the osteitis closed on her lungs. She got steadily worse: the prognosis was terrible, ending with double pneumonia.

But on Friday evening a miracle began. Her troubles vanished. Her visions ceased. Her furrows and wrinkles smoothened out. Forty years fell off her like a garment. She had thirty hours of happiness and heaven. Even after her last breath she shed another twenty years, and now lies young and incredibly beautiful. I have to go in and look at her and talk affectionately to her. I did not know I could be so moved.

Do not tell a soul until Thursday when all will be over. I could not stand flowers and letters and a crowd at Golders Green.

G.B.S.

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It may seem weird but I actually envy their having very few options of how to communicate. I have always loved receiving handwritten letters (have a small sack full of them!) and I guess I will always do. :)

*done blabbing.

On Being a Little Boozed Up

Last last Thursday.

To be able to celebrate the adjournment of candidacies and exams, One Phine Day decided to spend the night out in Makati. After dinner at Abe c/o Dindin, JF, Tomi, Mikka and Migz, some of us (including moi) wanted to just go home and rest since it was already pretty late. May and Nic, however, still wanted to stay out (and have fun!) so they proposed that we go to Pier1, a restobar at the Fort.

After all the walking, the talking, the calling for and pushing of drinks, the drinking, and talking and drinking, and talking and drinking, I suddenly felt that I could no longer hold my head straight up. Shucks, Im tipsy, I thought. I was completely aware of what was happening around me though, so I wasn't sure if my lightheadedness was due to my going overboard with drinking or to merely my being sleepy. Whichever. All I know was that I badly wanted to throw up (but I can't!) and I did NOT want to do anything I might regret later.

And so the night ended. For me, at least. With the help of my dear brods and sisses, I managed to go to Mikka's and sleep soundly, still dirty and smelly but safe nonetheless. The following morning I still did not feel completely well, and instead of listening to the long lectures, I was recounting then what happened to me the night before.

Perhaps what happened to me wasn't new at all for others, but it was for me, and it sort of affected me. It was my first time to feel that way after drinking (well, it was only my second time to take in that much alcohol) and I was disappointed because, if you know me, you'll know that I have always disputed drinking. I realized that it was sooo hard to resist the egging on of your company in those kind of situations and that it was sooo easy to lose control over your actions when you are tipsy but it is NOT inevitable (or siguro kulang pa yung nainom ko. :P).

On the other hand, I know for a fact that the prodding of Jason, JF, Clint and Kevin wasnt the sole reason why I drank two bottles of Gilbey's, one glass of wengweng and another of kamikaze. For one, since I have never gone that far, I actually did want to test my limit. :P Secondly, I trust the people I am with, so much that I loosened my grip and let go a little.

My confidence to these people wasn't put to waste. Although I was groggy at that time, I remember very well that Joshua drank the last few gulps of my second Gilbey's bottle to spare me from the additional alcohol. Nil gladly offered his shoulder while sharing something he wouldn't have shared to me if he knew I wasn't drunk. :P CJ accompanied me to the bathroom, at the corner table and to the car on the way home. She even made sure I was fine in the car before joining the others. Pat, Panic, Ace and a few other girls encouraged me to try to barf so that I could feel a little better. Nic also (and another person na di ko na matandaan!) offered a glass of water so as to help me get rid of the booze. Jason, JF, Clint, Mik, Pat and Marisse incessantly asked if Im ok. JF lent his hand on the way out of Pier1 and his car to drive us home. Kevin and Alex were in the car with us on our way back to Manila. Alex put up with my swaying and accompanied me all the way to Mikka's couch. I found out the morning after that Mikka set up the fan for us and that Rita held back her desire to take a picture of me while I was sleeping with my party dress on. And to fill my gratitude to the brim, Charles was there the next day to listen to my boring stories and to be with me on my way home. :)

Although I have said that I am saying no to alcohol from now on (or if it is inescapable, Ill only have one bottle or glass of whatever is offered to me), on the back of my head, I will always know that I can and might loosen up a bit, that is, if I'm with OPD. :)

*done blabbing.

1:10 on a Sunday Morning

I've been cramming a lot lately - and that may mean forcing too much food into my mouth or too much names into my head.

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I think the mere existence of fraternities and sororities in the college unearths bravery from students, because it requires all to choose. And it does take bravery to make a stand, whatever it is.

*done blabbing.

Woozy

It has been recently reiterated (quite often) that med school IS NOT all about the acads.

I'm all for the orgs, don't be mistaken (I really have no plans of obssessing over books :P) but it is the what that confuses me. And the which. And the when.

*done blabbing.

Undreamed-ofs

It did not occur to me, not even for a fraction of a second, that I’ll be attempting to step into a modelling venture. Never.

But I did, last Thursday. Two weeks ago, my Tita Vicky, well known in the family for her being our ticket holder to beauty pageants and the like, convinced my parents to let us join a month-long, dancing, acting and ramp modelling workshop. On the word of her, everything is already set – clothes are sponsored, designers were already hired, venues were all previously booked for us – we just have to pass an application form and join. We agreed, thinking there’ll be no better way to spend May, anyway.

Dressed oh-so casually, we went to SM North, last April 26, carrying only our pens. With me are my two sisters and a friend who was talked into joining too. Filing of the application form was set to be at Cinema 9. While walking our way to the said place, we were talking about what we expect to see. We’re all imagining the inside of the theater to be adorned with perhaps one or two tables and a number chairs, filled with a few people who apparently have also heard the whisper that there’ll be a modelling workshop. No worries, we thought, we just have to write, nevertheless.

All of us were stunned when we turned around the corner of the hall towards Cinema 9. What was standing before us, on the passageway outside the theater, was a long, high ramp, surrounded by towering lights and speakers. There were more or less a hundred, fully made-up models seated on rows of chairs on the side of the ramp. Most of them were assisted by whom we presumed as their managers and all ladies were on heels, ready to strut. All of us instantly chickened out and decided to walk instead on the hallways of The Block, despite the fact that our Tita kept on texting us, insisting on showing our faces to her.

Later on the same day, my mom was able to talk to my tita at a dinner party. She explained that the filing of application form is actually the initial screening wherein the models have to walk and be interviewed by the panel of judges. She stressed again that the workshop will be a great opportunity for us to remodel our timid personalities and assured that we may again try to audition, this time with no ramp modelling, only with an interview. So after all the reconsiderations, we finally signed application forms, showed our faces to the organizers and was told to return for the final screening on the first of May, this time warned that we need to prepare ourselves for we really have to walk on stage.

I really do not want to recount the horrors of our debut on stage (ha, ha), so to cut the story short, after 6 hours of standing and marching on heels, Tricia and I were included in the selected twenty from a group of sixty. So now, after the contract signing last Sunday, the kick-off party last Monday and the announcement that we’ll have a make-over and a pictorial this week, I’m establishing the fact that my last month before med school is going to be one crazy hell of a ride. ;)

Just when I thought there are enough unforeseeable events already, my Dad asked last Thursday if Charles may want to drive his (my Dad’s) car for us girls and join the family in our overnight excursion in Tagaytay. Without hesitation, he said yes, so I was with him for the longest time last week. ♥♥♥

*done blabbing.