Just numbers, Mom!

The week that has been is payback time for school children's (and their parents' support -- time, energy and money ;-) efforts to cope with numerous academic and non-academic demands. And my girls are no way different from all other kids; especially Bea who already has that drive (and pride) to excel in class. While Gaby on the other hand just shrugged her shoulders and said: "Just numbers, Mom!"

As Bea is trying to join all other extra-curriculars (for the sake of both grades and enjoyment), juggling her out-of-acads activities with class work, I can see how determined she is to do good, even better than how she did in the past years. Grade 6 as she claims is her "defining moment". Bea is into Math, Journalism, Visual Arts, Drum and Lyre, Kumon and her "defining moment" (can't say what this is, just yet;-)

While Gaby in her full-blast energy is into playing -- Pinypon and reading books. She also has Kumon and joined too the Thought Master's Guild and Dream Club (performing arts), but unlike her Ate who has an everyday training that covers Saturdays, too, her extra workload (training) is just once a month.

Then her words came. I was truly caught off guard by her thoughts. And let me fully quote: "Ate, relax. You're so skinny na. Enjoy. Grades are just numbers."

As a Mom, sometimes a pushy Mom at that, where sometimes I can't avoid making my girls an extension of my own academic performance (pressure that they too excel like I did -- not to brag;-). I forget that they too have their own person. That my girls are not there to massage my ego as a parent but they are gifts and in actuality, like my brother said: They are even who I am not. Because reality check, they are way more talented than I am or their father is. 

And so I declare, that even when sometimes, we parents (doting Moms) say we know better than our children, or we keep pushing them to do what we deem they should, stop right there... for a while and listen to what our children have to say of what they think, what they want, what they need and what makes them happy. It is only on these times that we do so, that we realize, our children has a lot to say, a lot to share and from these "a whole lot" that we learn much.

Grades are just numbers. They don't define our children. They don't define our parenting. What makes us and makes them is the smile reflected in their eyes. Their innocent laughter. Their witty comments. Their youthful energy to explore their own giftedness -- not dictated by us or other people's expectations.

Let our children be who they want them to be, as God planned them to be. They should not be limited by numbers. For the beauty and magic of this life is never quantified but qualified by colors and shapes, of happiness and love -- immeasurable... undefinable.

Life in a Mirror

Why "Life in a Mirror"?

 

I started blogging the moment I learned how to blog. I thought, the best way how I could share what I know is through writing because then (and now, I am such not a good speaker), so I opted to just write my thoughts down.

 

But where do these thoughts come from? I read. I savor life. And thinking a lot is the offshoot. I am not an active child. I was more of the introverted type. And so after reading, most information just got stuck there. They have no way of going out. So mostly, I get to think about them ... a lot.

 

So I face these thoughts squarely, like your eyes looking straight back at you when you face the mirror. The reflection of my thoughts about the things I read and experience are poured down on blank sheets.

 

Then my days became busier. There was a time when I got hold of no book for over a year or two. But I hear a lot. I started experiencing life ... the kind of life so heavy to share. And so I think a lot about this life. Because the moment I cease to think, I cease to believe ... and hope and have faith to the One who brought me here.

 

Reflection with the right values helped me to be stronger despite the painful experiences of the past. I may have bled to death if I haven't had the courage to face life with no pretensions ... no lies.

 

And so I ask you the same question: Are you happy with what your life has to offer?

 

For one thing I have learned about life, happiness and lies -- They are intertwined.

 

Once you have not learned accepting life at face value, you begin building lies after lies after lies. Until you have been trapped in the loops and knots of your own lies. And you will never be happy.

 

Pretending starts within the self. Then you start lying to those important to you. Then to most people in general.

 

Pretension starts when you yourself cannot accept who you are -- your choices, your decisions. Any outside stimulus that reminds you of who you are, you tend to attack. You'd rather do this that put down your defenses for accepting your weaknesses is defeat for you. And you cannot afford to lose. And so you judge others as you have judged yourself. Nobody seems to be good enough for you.

 

And so the cycle goes on ...

 

You lie. You pretend. You defend yourself. You attack. You judge falsely. You talk ill about people. Because this is the only way to make you feel better off. But in reality, you're not ...

 

Because you failed to look into the MIRROR of LIFE.

Lack of Something

The distance from my entries is very alarming... Was I really this quiet for the last four years or so?

 

I couldn't imagine I was able to get by without writing (Oh well, writing my thoughts fall under a different category than writing my Lesson Guides, Progress Checks and Assessments. IEP reports included.)!!!

 

From the time I learned how to write, no matter how unintelligible my musings are, I write them down. Because Mama said, it's the only way I could improve on my hand-writing, which makes my prose even more -- let's be more apt, muddled.

 

Is it lack of inspiration?

 

Nah! I guess not. Because other than writing, teaching is my passion. And as an educator, I could find any topic at every nook in the room to write about. Including a broken pencil.

 

Is it lack of something smart to say?

 

I don't think so. My class is filled with witty kids. Asking me why pages of a book are non-living things, yet they get brittle and die.

 

Is it lack of time?

 

Oh well...

Time to go!

I am currently in a room of test-takers. For clarity, I am not one of them nor the tester. Neither am I a spectator. I have been in the testing world for more than a decade now & being in the room brings back nostalgia into my system. So getting involved is not so my mood at this time. I need to divert my energy to more meaningful tasks than being nostalgic. For one, I forgot to bring a bigger hanky. And two, I might disturb the testees with my sneezing & honking.

So why then am I here?

Guess I am forced by the need to see one of the best ANOVA interpreter I could avail of in this side of my town. Whether I like the feeling or not, well, that I will leave the interpretation to you dear readers.

My concern at the moment is TIME.

There are moments I so appreciate the shortness of time especially when at the mercy of unbearable circumstances (which has become more often than I prayed for;-)

But there are instances that shortness of time is an enemy.

24 hours? 20 waking hours? This to me is not enough. I wish my body clock does not tick of tiredness... moreso my mind does not shut off after 24 hours.

So many things I want to do. Such little time. I'm no longer so sure if these things I'm exerting much effort to means much to me or would do me any good at the end of my days. (paging Fr.Peter... please guide me through this. But I want to make myself clear, I'm NOT ready for you yet. Just a sign will do;-)

One thing I miss the most is this... Symbolizing my thoughts into words...

Whoa! That's it! I have found reason why I'm here! At least my waiting here did not go to waste. I am able to transform something into reality. My babbling at this corner is somehow productive. This is my FIRST real blog after 2 hibernating years!!!

YES! Thank God I was able to do this. I have not just seated here & got a good bunch of inputs but also an output I could post in my almost dormant blogsite!

Now I should go & try to keep posting... maybe I could ask another person hold me for a while ;-)

A Million Little Pieces of Hope, Love and Passion for Life

Orange and pink streaks sail across the blue of the sky, large birds silhouette themselves against the red of the rising sun, clouds inch their way toward me.


These are such poetic lines from James Frey. His book "A Million Little Pieces" is an account of his life in the rehabilitation center. And this is what I'm currently reading.


There were all sorts of new things to find. Grass and dirt and holes and tiny bugs – each fascinated him. But nothing satisfied him.


And these are striking lines from “Hope for the Flowers” by Trina Paulos which I just read (side by side with Harry Potter 6… of course before watching the movie, which of course did not satisfy me – anyway, that’s another story to tell, which I know you could certainly relate to).

Anyway, Frey’s novel, particularly its title has inspired me to write again... I mean to blog again. But what is more to this passion for writing are the things I’ve learned from Stripe and Yellow, Paulos’ main characters in her short story.

It has been months since I last posted an entry in any of my blogsites. What kept me busy? I think those times... these times are the days I am putting the million little pieces of my dreams... of my life together. Getting into that big climb like Stripe and Yellow and finding in the end what really satisfies me and gives me so much hope and love and passion for life.

Yes! I am in the prime of building a legacy not just for my family – my kids to follow, but for more kids that truly matters… as Jesus has once said, “Let the little ones come to me.”

Let me count the ways:

1. I was about to finish my MA in Guidance and Counseling in 2005 when an Aunt fed me with the great (and tempting) “American Dream”.

2. While finishing my MA degree, I took up units in Special Education and Certificate in Teaching in an Open University System.

3. After graduation, I got pregnant with Gaby and found myself incapable of working and going to school. Thank God, UP then offered a Certificate in Caring for the Special Child through the Interactive Virtual Learning Experience. I had homeschooling.

4. Upon giving birth, I pushed through with my MA in SPED. And finished my education units alongside it.

5. After having my diploma, I forwarded my application as SPED teacher to one of the agencies in Manila. And I think, one of the best agencies deploying Filipino teachers to the US of A.

6. 2008 was a grand year for me in the field of test-taking. April, I passed the Licensure Exam for Teachers. August, I passed the Licensure Exam for Guidance Counselors.

7. 2009 started out with more stress. January, I took up Praxis 2, the state board for SPED teachers and passed once again.

8. February, I was interviewed. Then a long wait for the result followed.

9. March, I have to take another state board, Praxis 1, for General Education. Once more, I proved to have much luck in board examinations. I passed.

10. April, I resigned from work. But was re-hired until July as a Researcher for Student Services and Curriculum Development.

11. June, I received the news that I passed the interview.

12. I was encouraged to enroll ASAP for a special Reading course at St. Joseph College, Quezon City. The course was for two months. Every weekends. Stressful, eh!? Saturday mornings I board the bus early just in time for my 2 PM class. We end up at 7 PM. Sundays, we start at 9 AM until 6 PM. Then I go straight to the bus terminal and arrive home at 12 midnight or early dawn. And after a four-hour sleep, off I go to work.

13. July, we had a not so fortunate news. Our petitioning school lacks funds to fly us all together in August. We will go by batch, so they say. Now, there are five (should I say the “lucky” ones) being processed. Hopefully for September deployment.

14. Still July, I don’t know if I will feel frustrated or happy. Frustrated because by August, I will be jobless. I thought like Stripe and Yellow, I was climbing with a group where I would be led to nowhere.

15. Mid July, I felt happier because I realized, I wasn’t ready yet to leave my kids and husband (for more or less six months). I was more thankful that I get to spend more time with them. Imagine if I were to be deployed in August? My weekend classes ended in July 26 and target deployment is first week of August, how would in the world I spend time with my family?

16. Towards end of July, I had wonderful plans in mind. I got so busy (with Arleen) in looking for a perfect spot for my long-time dream – a school. But for now, my passion for teaching kids (putting up a school) is limited to a Reading Enrichment Program for Grade 1 pupils and children with special needs.

17. August, I formally opened my Reading Resource Center. Simple. Just a room with two monobloc tables and six monobloc chairs, rubber mats, a small white board, a flip chart, and a few good books to read.

18. But there is more to this that I’m busy about. 8 AM to 10 AM, I shadow teach in a grade 1 class for a pupil with ADHD accompanied with an oppositional and impulsive behavior. After which, I visit two other kids with autism. And yet another kid with ADHD. And help a team of professionals in designing an IEP for a child with Emotional Impairment who is homeschooling.

19. Before leaving the school at 12 noon, I see to it that I have counseled around four students in the high school department.

20. At 12:30 to 2:30 PM, I continue with my work as a Researcher.

21. At 3 PM, I have to be in my center to prepare things for my pupils. I currently have seven grade 1 pupils and a grade 3 pupil with specific Learning Disability. I also work with a Mom in developing a Behavior Managament Plan for her child with ADHD. I end up at 6 PM.

22. These three responsibilities I so carefully squeezed in a day transpire in three separate locations, too. So you can just imagine what a mess I now look like. Yeah! Maybe I am all stressed out but I am happy and contented.

23. If you may ask of the monetary satisfaction, it is not such a good source of income given the tiresome impact of juggling many responsibilities a time. But one thing I am sure of, at the end of the day, before I close my eyes at night, there are more things I am thankful for.

24. First question: “Would I still pursue my great American Dream?”

My answer, “Yes I will!”

25. Last question: “What for?”

My answer, “To bring to the next level my one true dream – come home to my country and put up a school for children with special needs, considering all the therapies they need. And have a guidance and counseling, testing and play therapy center for kids and their families.”



Her feelers quivered and Stripe knew she was speaking. He couldn’t make out words. Then slowly, he seemed to understand… Somehow he knew what to do. Stripe climbed again.

It got darker and darker and he was afraid. He felt he has to let go of everything…

… Until one day …

The Everyday Masters by Paulo Coelho.Part 2

Here’s another entry from Paulo Coelho’s “The Everyday Masters”:


Avoiding keeping control or being controlled

If I react the way that people expect me to, I become a slave to them – and that is a lesson that applies both to love and work. It is very difficult to prevent this from happening, because we are always ready to please somebody, or to start a war when we are provoked, but people and situations are the consequences of the life that I have chosen, not the other way around.



Reflection

I had five striking counselees today:

The first one had a misunderstanding with a close friend which brought them as far as shouting at each other – some words that wounded and difficult to heal. Reason: Php 200.00

The second student came, really pissed – well, sort of. She said her frat will have a meeting. She joins in or she’ll be dead. Reason: Fear

My third client was the most spontaneous. Telling me stories about her family, her friends, her boyfriend in comparison with her guy-bestfriend. Reason: Unhappiness

My fourth counselee was actually a teacher who felt real bad. She claims people mistake her being frank and bold to being crazy. Reason: System of norms

And before I closed my cubicle today, a graduating student came, crying because she failed in her Trigonometry class. Reason: Timetable



Indeed, every one of us, including myself becomes a victim of our own choices. It has been a way of life for some to avoid keeping control of things, and when failure comes, everybody and every situation is there to be blamed except himself/herself. To some, they avoid being controlled and that makes them what? Frank? Bold? Crazy? Because they have their own reason. Whichever line we follow, it is still our choice that count in the end.

The Everyday Masters by Paulo Coelho

Outside the city of Oslo is getting ready for winter. I am chatting in the bar with a very popular European singer. We talk about fame and success, and at a certain moment she asks me if I have anything important to teach her.

“Of course not,” I answer. “You lead your life like someone who knows that one day they are going to die, and that is what is most important. Nevertheless, I can propose a task for you: for the next six months, keep a diary called “the everyday master.” We always learn something different between dawn and dusk: why not write it down?”

She accepts the task. Six months later, I receive a copy of her diary full of very interesting notes, lessons from people she met only once but who are certain to remain for ever. This week I will be publishing here the most important of these entries.

Here is one of the entries of my friend’s diary about the everyday masters:

Accepting yourself

I found out who I am by looking at others. I am afraid of not being as good as they think I am, but I believe they all think this about themselves. During the time that I kept this diary, I finally accepted that I am brave enough to feel fear and to see myself without any artifices. I feel secure enough to feel insecure.

I discovered that people try to project a lot of their own insecurity onto you, just as you do with them. They try to diminish you because they feel small, try to intimidate you because they are not convinced that they are capable.

Tomorrow, I’ll post here another entry.

For a week now, I’ve been following “The every day masters” post by Paulo Coelho on his blogsite. This is an amazing learning experience for me, and so I share them again with you. Then again, I’m hoping I will have the luxury of time to make my online diary, too, similar to this one.

God bless everyone!

Are you there?

December 22, 2021.

My fortieth Christmas is creeping up and I feel like I’m headed for an inevitable midlife crisis. Fortunately, a guy in my position, consumed day and night by his job, doesn’t have the time to go screw up his personal life by buying a Ferrari or by cheating on his wife with unrelenting physical pleasure from new-age virtual technology to incapacitate the user for a week after kind-of-coitus, or KOC.

I look at my wife and I can see the circles around her eyes from all the preparations building up to Christmas day – from carefully planning the Noche Buena menu to the last-minute panic shopping and decorations. Both my kids cannot be contained from the anticipation of opening their gifts – they bug you every second if they can just take a peek. As I sat there watching them with saddened eyes, I reminisced when this all started.

It was eighteen years ago, a week before Christmas to be exact. I just passed training for my very first job. I couldn’t remember anymore who made the call. My father just passed away. It was more of a shock than anything else. I cannot remember if I even cried. Maybe it’s just that it hasn’t sunk in yet. I just stared at blank space. At that time, my mother is battling cancer and undergoing chemo (she died 6 months later). So I was like, “What’s happening?” You know what I mean? How could I celebrate when all these tragedies were all of a sudden have decided to just converge on one occasion; this one occasion that I have always been looking forward to; this one occasion when I can see my family as a whole?

So from then on, Christmas was not for me to celebrate. I am that jaded. I leave the celebrating to those that are truly happy; to those who have someone to celebrate it with; to those who can still spend the holidays with their loved ones - opening gifts, singing carols, laughing and having meals on Christmas Eve. Someday I wish I can find my own. Someday I hope and pray to God to lift this veil of suffering from me. Someday…And until then this will be my silent protest.

My little daughter was tugging at my shirt sleeve and looking at me with her doe eyes. Her brother is watching her mom make the shopping list while he sits on her lap. I snapped out of my reverie and ruffled my daughter’s hair to which she responded with an exasperated look.
From then on, I decided I no longer need to wait for another Christmas. I am already there. This is my happy ending.




I commented:

“Your posts always make me cry. Maybe because it touches what I feel, too. Or just maybe, we haven't really talked about this after pop and mom died. We both have caged ourselves. Afraid to disclose any emotions. We have always expressed ourselves in the safe zone -- our prose.”



The above prose was written by my brother. Posted in his site. I have always admired how he arranges his words to a meaningful, sentimental whole. The more I admire him now for being so strong. What he has written is not fiction. My father died of heart attack – slept and never woke up – in December 12, 2003, barely few days before Christmas and a few days after our mother underwent her fourth chemotherapy session. And yes, six months before she succumb to cancer. More painful to say, our mother died in June 12, 2004, a day before my brother’s birthday. Two major occasions where he has to celebrate – we have to celebrate, yet, two major deaths – that of our parents’ precede the events.

“Hats off, dear brother! I admire your strength.”

My brother now lives with a few flatmates in Makati. No family yet. No love-life I guess. I just pray to God that soon… indeed he would find that wife he is referring to in his prose and will have kids to bring him back to that feeling of looking forward to celebrating Christmas and his birthday. “I love you bro! Merry Christmas!”

CABAnata 23: Unfair? Life's irony makes it more wonderful, what yah think?

Two months ago, I was in a crossroad — like a high school teeny-bopper trying to choose what course to take up in college. I spent some here and a little with this and that just to comply, let’s say, with what life has to offer. Honestly, got to experience some kind of adrenaline rush — the kind of excitement a little girl would feel when Mom got her a new lacy dress and just as she thought her happiness was overwhelming, Pop arrives with her favorite candy cane wrapped in fancy-colored glossy paper with twirling ribbons that added to its attraction. Can you imagine that feeling?

How about this?

While trying the little lacy dress on, the girl’s pet dog got the same excitement as she did and jumped over her, ripping off all the pink and white laces off her dress, leaving some saliva stains on the satin undergarment. And because of shock, she dropped the candy cane on the floor and the overly excited dog turned its drooling hunger to her cane and ran off with it so fast that nobody got their wits to ran after the dog and get the poor girl’s candy cane back. Now what’s the feeling?

The latter is what I feel now. The crossroads disappeared at an instant. Burst like a bubble. Worst… no traces of roads what-so-ever. What’s left are just murky ground, thorny bushes and my dismay.

Yamoj was right… sometimes we come to a point where decisions have to be made just for the sake of it. Will I return to that foxhole I thought was my comfort zone and get gulped by the quicksand in that foxhole and never get the chance to be seen again and in return see the world, which, no matter how unfair sometimes it may seem, it is still beautiful and wonderful with all its mysterious ironies?

Nah!

Maybe Plan A just wouldn’t work for me.

Anyway, Plan B is what I initially looked forward to before the rush of excitement invaded my little privie.

So, guess I have to stand with pride, pick myself up, dust my sleeve off and start again. This is what life is all about anyway.


What yah think?

Fulfillingness' First Finale

There is a time in every man’s life where he must face that moment of truth. A time when that gut feeling meets reality and opportunity. Conventional wisdom, common sense, deductive reasoning and logic mean nothing here. Sometimes this moment of truth has nothing to do with doing the right thing: a decision must be made. A general effective decision on life. Your life. Every man at one point in his life will meet this moment. It is our right to passage. It is also an often soul-searching, empty moment in our lives. Definition comes with our decision at this moment, yet it does not define who we are. Life, I assure you, is not always fair.

We all go through phases where we feel we are most down. There is a moment when you get home from work, you stare blankly at your stale food, all alone… the television, your only companion. You wonder what you’re here for. You wonder why you are experiencing such feelings. You wonder what, in the grand scheme of things, is your purpose. Then it will be a long, arduous battle to find those answers. Bad news is, and this is the truth, you will never find your answers until you’re old. Or if you are really out of luck, never at all. So you go find a Paulo Coelho book and hope against hope he can save you and provide you with an idiot’s guide on this little sojourn called life.

As you try to walk your own path, you realize you have to start off following someone else’s footsteps. Baby steps first, like they say. You get sparingly to the point where there’s no turning back. Your back to the wall and you don’t trust even yourself to get your life out of that doldrums. It is a foxhole. A quicksand in a foxhole, if ever that was possible. A quicksand in a foxhole right smack in the Bermuda triangle. No way out. So let’s see here.

No one needs a hand more than those who are falling – or being pushed – off a cliff. Hugs are so ethnic now but they’re all you need. It is amazing how a touch from another human being makes you feel… so human. It makes you feel vulnerable and you feel you’re not all alone. This is all you need to get out of this moment of self-actualization. Not that you like it; it’s not like you’ve got a choice to be in that kind of situation. Like I said earlier, it is our right to passage. It is your moment to find the truth of what your life brings. Answer or no answer.

A single vibration put me out of my reverie. I still catch myself staring at the untouched food on the table, stale smell reeking of hopelessness. An apt reflection of this moment. I reach out for my phone and read: “You busy Saturday?”

Maybe.



Again, from my brother’s blog.

I was thinking of a topic for today’s post, but my Zafra-sitis got in the way. Yeah, I just started reading Twisted 7 at exactly 4:00 pm today hoping that I would be able to pick up an idea or two of just what to write, but the negative Zafra vibrations hit me instead – got nothing good to say. (Peace, Jessica!)

So I opened my brother’s Multiply site… read through his blogs and got this fresh from his site. Sure thing it started off with negativism, too. But thank God before Mom died, she gave her best shot of motherhood that frustrating experiences come in fancy-colored wraps as we see them.

Reflections! It’s good we have them.

Life can sometimes be so lonely. People are so busy loving the things they own and using people to gain these things. People have forgotten to love other people instead and using things for their lone purpose of being just things to be used for a particular purpose.

Hugs.

Warm embrace.

A tap on the shoulder.

A smile.

Or just a loving stare.

All these have been so remote nowadays when all you need is just a single step. To others, it might be a daring step… maybe at first, but if you get used to it, it will be just as normal and voluntary as you breathe.

Try it.

Who knows? You might just save someone else’s lonely life… as you work on your own.

Brawling for Dinner

Three slices of cold pizza and a bottle of Coke adorn my dining table like a feast on New Year’s Eve. Only it’s not New Year’s eve and more importantly it is not a feast. Far from it. I need to lose weight but this is not really the reason for the so-called feast that awaits. Although the slices were Hawaiian, it is not exactly Cobb Salad but I digress.

I can be a rather morbid person. I’m not exactly sure when or how I developed this character trait, but I’m predisposed to indulging in almost all that is unpleasant. This wasn’t with any sense of amusement, just a rational conclusion. So I push the first slice inside my mouth. It was a rather stale taste as I was suffering from a mild cold at that time so my taste buds prefer to take a leave of absence. I tried chewing but it was just a chore. I tried to drown it with Coke that I drank straight from the bottle. I puked a little but still tried to swallow. Only the jalapeños has a strong savor but it tasted like paper cup. I picked up the lone bacon that dropped to the floor. I contemplated to either eat it or just chuck it. Wala pang five minutes.

I could give up right now and die. Whoever finds my body could leave it right where it lies. I could have sworn I saw my whole life flash in front of me. But I struggled. I fight for those who don’t have anything to eat at all. Some don’t eat because they don’t want to or they wanted to lose weight but there are still the majority who don’t because they have no choice. I fight for those people. I fight for those who are rummaging the garbage cans for a thrown out piece of bread or a trace of meat off a T-bone. I scrap and claw for those kids with blackened skin from sunburn or from grease and dirt because of their everyday search for a living so that at the end of the day they have something to put inside their aching bellies and have energy for another day of scrapping and clawing all over again. I pronounce battle against malnutrition and the continuous price hike for a can of sardines and a pack of pancit canton.

But this was the real world, where the fun was supposed to stop. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I have to grieve the inevitable. No one here gets out alive. Some of us just need to be reminded of that from time to time.

Leftovers, anyone?

P.S. Yamoj, pahiram ng post mo ha. Love this one kasi. By now, I know that you’re aware of this inevitable fact: “I’m your no. 1 fan!” (I guess Mom and Pop left me without a choice but to patronize that one family they gave me — YOU. “Peace brother!”)

Doubting God's Existence

A man went to trim his hair and beard. As always happens, he and the barber chatted about this and that, until - commenting on a newspaper article about street kids - the barber stated:

“As you can see, this tragedy shows that God doesn’t exist.”

“How?”

“Don’t you read the papers? So many people suffer, abandoned children, there’s so much crime. If God existed, there wouldn’t be so much suffering.”

The customer thought for a moment, but his haircut was nearly finished, and he decided not to prolong the conversation. They returned to gentler topics, the job was done, the customer paid and left.

However, the first thing he saw was a tramp, with several days of beard, and long tangled hair.

Immediately, he returned to the barber’s shop and said to the man who had served him:

“You know something? Barbers don’t exist.”

“What do you mean, don’t exist? I’m here, and I’m a barber.”

“They don’t exist!” insisted the man, “because if they did, there wouldn’t be people with such longs beards and such tangled hair as I’ve just witnessed up on the corner.”

“I can guarantee that barbers do exist. But that man has never come in here.”

“Exactly! So, in answer to your question, God exists, too. It just so happens that people don’t go to Him. If they did, they would be more giving, and there wouldn’t be so much misery in the world.”



“I wanna just go to sleep and never wake up. If God is everywhere like my preschool teacher has always told us, I hope He hears me... Ahh! If He did listen to me, but I think He doesn’t.”

“Can I just stare blankly on just anything and nobody would notice?”

“I hope they would just hit me so hard that I will pass out and never gain consciousness.”

“They don’t care. Mom wouldn’t even know I’m dead. I think God wouldn’t do too.”

“If I kill myself, it’ll be useless. Because if my time isn’t up yet, I would live. And when I live and they would learn I tried to kill myself, the more they would get mad at me. So you see, it’s useless! And I’m freakin’ mad about this whole idea running through my mind over and over again.”



All these lines are from teenagers who are victims of circumstances. And I wouldn’t know if I should be glad they came up to me and heard all these rumblings or tell them to just give up. Thanks to Mr. Coelho whose site I seldom visit these days, but fortunately, I did today and read the above post.

Tomorrow, I’m looking forward to seeing these kids again. And hope to tell them this story on “Doubting God’s Existence”.

“Help me God that I’ll always remain faithful to You and inspire others to live their lives to the fullest, too. Make me Your instrument of WARMTH to those who needed to be touched. Make me Your EARS for those who would like to be listened to. Make me Your EYES for those who would like to see life’s beauty and wonder. Make me Your MOUTH for those who crave for justice. Make me Your HANDS for those who would like to be reached out. Make me Your FEET for those who like to walk on the road less traveled. And lastly, make me Your HEART for those who would like to be loved. Give me enough of these, Lord, and I shall follow Thy will. Amen.”

CABAnata 22: Meeting the Unknown

October 11, 2008.

“What is your most frustrating experience and what have you realized from it?”

Quite a difficult, yet challenging question… but considering my height, surely, this is not one of the most controversial “question and answer” portion in a beauty contest. Maybe in due time, I shall reveal to you what was this question all about. But as of now, let me just share to you my answer as I meet the unknown for the first time…

I paused for a while. Groping for words to say. I thought of my mother’s death or my father’s, but at the back of my mind, I can hear that little voice telling me, “Are you ready to disclose that? You might just break into tears and blow this chance of a lifetime.”

So I listened to that voice.

Then I confidently started articulating what I thought was a safe answer:

“Actually, I don’t consider any of my experiences as source of my frustration. There may be downfalls but I always see things in a positive light that they no longer appear to me as frustrating.”

The woman across the desk was smiling. And so I smiled back, too… nervously though. Hopefully, hers was a satisfied smile.

Come November, if such question will be asked from me again, I would be more honest. And this is what I intend to say:

“Frustrating experience? Oh well, the first time that was asked of me, I said: I don’t consider any of my experiences as source of my frustration. There may be downfalls but I always see things in a positive light that they no longer appear to me as frustrating.”

“On my way home, I realized though that what I gave was such a safe answer.”

“I first thought of my parents’ death… but I don’t consider it frustrating, it is more of a depressive experience than frustrating. So I have two things in mind…” (pause… for a more dramatic air…)

“First, upon graduating from college, I would have preferred pursuing immediately Clinical Psychology, which I thought then, was my ultimate dream. But due to financial reasons, my mother asked me to work so I would be able to support my younger brother’s schooling or else, he wouldn’t be able to finish college. And like any other Filipino eldest child, I did what was asked of me. So I became a pre-school teacher and a shadow teacher to mainstreamed pupils. And even without those sped units, I tried in the best of my ability, to give what was due to these children. That first job, considering all those efforts, which I thought was my most frustrating experience opened a new door for me – realizing that I would still be able to help the less privileged in the society by being a teacher.”

“Secondly, when I was already immersed in special education, frustration hit me hard seeing how unfortunate children with special needs are in the Philippines. In my community alone, public schools have low ability to provide quality education to regular kids, more so to special children. That’s when I started dreaming for a home school for children with disabilities. Then again, financial reasons got in the way.”

“So maybe you would ask me, what then am I doing here – sitting face-to-face with you? The answer is simple: The realization of that dream is in your hands.”




------ Applause! Applause! Applause! ------

He and She

She in her youth
fell in love
He in his passion
got her pregnant.


She in her innocence
gave him her all
He in his ambition
left her pained.


She in her selflessness
took him when he returned
He in his insensitivity
wounded her in every comeback.


She in her deathbed
loved him still
He in his suffering
longed another chance.


She in her last breath
uttered forgiveness for him
He in his other life
welcomed her to eternity.


She is my mother
died of cancer
He is my father
slept and never woke up.


She is my mother
died six months after him
He is my father
died six months before her.


Now, she and he are united
stood by their promise:
Not “’Til death do us part”
but “Death brought us together”.

This was a poem I composed for my parents maybe two or three years ago which I posted in my CABAnata blogsite in 2007... wherever they may be, my only hope is that they are happy and free of all the earthly burdens they have felt in their lifetime. And that, if in their hearts they feel I haven't made known to them in words and/or in actions that I love them... then for one more day, I wish be granted to me.

For One More Day

“Let me guess. You want to know why I tried to kill myself.”
-- Chick Benetto’s first words to me


THIS STORY IS ABOUT A FAMILY and, as there is a ghost involved, you might call it a ghost story. But every family is a ghost story. The dead sit at our tables long after they have gone.

THIS PARTICULAR STORY belongs to Charles “Chick” Benetto. He was not the ghost. He was very real. I found him on a Saturday morning, in the bleachers of a Little League field, wearing a navy windbreaker and chewing peppermint gum. Maybe you remember him from his baseball days. I have spent part of my career as a sportswriter, so the name was familiar to me on several levels……

……What I have written here is what Charles “Chick” Benetto told me in our conversation that morning – which stretched out much longer than that – as well as personal notes and pages from his journal that I found later, on my own. I have assembled them into the following narrative, in his voice, because I’m not sure you would believe this story if you didn’t hear it in his voice.

You may not believe it anyhow.

But ask yourself this: Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.

What if you got it back?

May 2006



For One More Day is a story of a mother and a son, and a relationship that lasts a lifetime and beyond. It explores the question: What would you do if you could spend one more day with a lost loved one?

As a child, Charley Benetto is told by his father, “You can be a Mama’s boy or you can be a Daddy’s boy, but you can’t be both.” So he chooses his father, and he worships him – right up to the day the man disappears. An eleven-year-old Charley must then turn to his mother, who bravely raises him on her own, despite Charley’s embarrassment and yearnings for a complete family.

Decades later, Charley is a broken man. His life has been crumbled by alcohol and regret. He loses his job. He leaves his family. He hits bottom after discovering his only daughter has shut him out of her wedding.

And he decides to take his own life.

He makes a midnight ride to his small hometown, with plans to do himself in. But upon failing even to do that, he staggers back to his old house only to make an astonishing discovery. His mother – who died eight years earlier – is still living there, and welcomes him home as if nothing had ever happened.

What follows is the one “ordinary” day so many of us yearn for, a chance to make good with a lost parent, to explain family secrets, and to seek forgiveness. Somewhere between this life and the next, Charley learns the things he never knew about his mother and her sacrifices. And he tries, with her tender guidance, to put the crumbled pieces of his life back together.




This is an excerpt from the book and these very lines made me delay my read for almost a year. Because the first time I did try opening the pages of this book, I felt my heart constrict like there was no “later” and that oxygen is an element that never existed in this planet.

But after a year, I found myself grabbing it out my shelf… and I journeyed in the past with Chick Benetto.

When I’m ready, I will disclose in this same blank site I call my blog, my life and why I too, like Chick, crave for one more day…

The QWERTY Keyboard

"Normality is merely a matter of consensus; that is, a lot of people think something is right, and so that thing becomes right."

"Some things are governed by common sense. Putting buttons on the front of a shirt is a matter of logic, since it would be very difficult to button them up at the side, and impossible if they were at the back."

"Other things, however, become fixed because more and more people believe that's the way they should be... Have you ever wondered why the keys on a typewriter are arranged in that particular order?"

"No, I haven't."

"We call it the QWERTY keyboard, because that's the order of the letters on the first row of keys. I once wondered why it was like that, and I found the answer: The first machine was invented by Christopher Sholes in 1873, to improve on calligraphy, but there was a problem: If a person typed very fast, the keys got stuck together and stopped the machine from working. Then Sholes designed the QWERTY keyboard, a keyboard that would oblige typists to type more slowly."

"I don't believe it."

"But it's true. It so happened that Remington -- which made sewing machines as well as guns at the time -- used the QWERTY keyboard for its first typewriters. That meant that more people were forced to learn that particular system, and more companies started to make those keyboards, until it became the only available model. To repeat: The keyboard on typewriters and computers was designed so that people would type more slowly, not more quickly, do you understand? If you changed the letters around, you wouldn't find anyone to buy your product."

-- an excerpt: Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho

There are two points to ponder on from the excerpt above:

First, normality is dictated not by our conscience or by our individuality but by what the majority thinks. Consensus Theory in Social Psychology is categorized in two areas: A descriptive theory is one that tells how things are, while a normative theory tells how things ought to be (Wikipedia).

More and more people are discontented with their lives and have grown unhappier each day. Families break. Job turn-overs. War against countries. Economics depleting. Questions about ones own existence and God's. Some built walls within themselves. Others created a paradise of their own -- in their minds and they have been trapped inside those walls... inside those paradise and the "normal" people spit on them calling these people "insane".

But the question remains: "Who is normal?" and "Who is insane?"

Is it the man in coat and tie riding his ferrari to work, kissing his wife goodbye in the morning, telling her he'll be late due to a dinner meeting with associates and at night goes to bed with another woman whom he loves so much but because for political reasons he needs his family to be intact?

Or is it the greasely man across his company who sold all his belongings just to live with the poor and the oppressed and is now begging for alms with placards on his chest saying, "The TIME has come. SAVE yourselves!"?

Is it the woman who wakes up each day attending to her family's needs and her drunkard good-for-nothing partner, working twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week because she says she cannot leave her children and husband because it is her obligation to fill-in their hungry stomachs?

Or is it the young lady her neighbors call a rebel because she painted her house in red and black, wearing only clothes with skull, adorned herself with metals, pierced herself here and there to broadcast her individuality?

It is up to you to say who is happy and who is not.

Who is normal and who is insane.

The catch however is this: When you judge, then you become like anyone else.

Second, some things come and they are the way they are or some things aren't there as we please not because they make life easier for us or difficult to punish us in some ways but because they make us feel that life should be lived in slow motion so we can savour and devour every detail of it.

Always in our lives, we want our wishes to be granted in a split second. Though we know it is not often like that, we still think that way, then we become more and more frustrated, discontented... and the more that we feel that, the farther we become to our happiness. I too often contemplate, if God is a good God, why are there illnesses of all sorts, or accidents, taking our love ones away from us? Or why are there so much injustice? Why didn't God just broke the lands equally among each people so territorial issues don't instigate war among brothers and nations? Why are there so much doubt in people's hearts about there being who they are when the only reason of there existence is God's great love which He wanted to share us?

Then again I ask:

Is INDIVIDUALITY = HAPPINESS?

Why is it that a step is very difficult to take?

A Mug of Water and A Quake Enhances Memory

From: Quintos, Mary Catherine
02/09/2008
10:21 AM

“Congrats, Jo! Galing, ah!” ;-)



That was Kate’s text message which I was able to read by half passed eleven.

The first word… I felt numbness.

Then my toes got some tingles.

Then my fingers came fidgeting.

Then I started jumping and shouting and laughing and crying all at once.



Arleen came from the other cubicle… shocked with how I was acting.

Students passing by were staring questioningly, too… but they kept their smiles to themselves. Or just maybe, they were too polite to tell me how crazy-looking I was.

But what the heck! I don’t care. Don’t care a bit.



Exactly a month ago, I had a pile of books, photocopied notes, course syllabus and anything I could get from my cabinet, from friends, from the bookstore and from my supportive MAGAC adviser on my table… table in my cubicle, table in my study, table in the dining, divan near the kitchen, on my bed, and even under my bed.

Two weeks before that, I passed my application for the board examination at PRC Baguio.

But two weeks thereafter, I haven’t read a single line of any introduction of any of the materials under my perusal.

Then, I only had three weeks…

God knows how I squeezed in all the words in my mentally-challenged brain in a weeks time. (Yeah, God gave me just a week to realize I have to do something, or else…)



August 21-22, 2008.

Judgment Day.

Then there was “Luker”.




Then restless nights came as I wait for the result. During those times I was able to get some sleep, I had nightmares. (Picture the suffering!??)

Then today came.

And Kate’s text message.

Ahhhhhhh!!! Sweet success!




I have come to conclude that the following leads you somewhere:

1. tons of prayer,
2. a lot of guts,
3. a little pressure to make it tolerable,
4. some procrastination (I did this through sleep),
5. a good deal of common sense for unexpected and inevitable circumstances,
6. a que-sera-sera attitude (Got it from my beloved Mom’s lullaby… sure she’s one happy and 7. proud Mom as she looks down on me now!)
7. blank stares over a pile of reading materials,
8. a mug of water before squeezing in some info,
9. a wrap of Quake, a chocolate-coated muffin everyday or make it twice a day to become more effective, and
10. blogging!!!!!!


Believe me, this list works. It gave me two professional licenses in a year! You can disarrange it according to how it suits you.

Now these I say are my OFFICIAL MEMORY ENHANCERS!!!

CABAnata 21: I am a Licensed GUIDANCE COUNSELOR

Guidance Counselor Licensure Examination Results August 2008

The Professional Regulation Commission (PRC) announces that 84 out of 140 passed the Guidance Counselor Licensure Examination given by the Board of Guidance and Counseling.

The members of the Board of Guidance and Counseling are Lily Rosqueta-Rosales, Officer-in-Charge; and Luzviminda S. Guzman, Member.

Registration for the issuance of Professional Identification Card (ID) and Certificate of Registration will be announced later. Those who will register are required to bring the following: duly accomplished Oath Form or Panunumpa ng Propesyonal, current Community Tax Certificate (cedula), 2 pieces passport size picture (colored with white background and complete nametag), 1 piece 1" x 1" picture (colored with white background and complete nametag), 2 sets of metered documentary stamps, and 1 short brown envelope with name and profession; and to pay the Initial Registration Fee of P600 and Annual Registration Fee of P450 for 2008-2011. Successful examinees should personally register and sign in the Roster of Registered Professionals.

The oathtaking ceremony of the successful examinees in the said examination as well as the previous ones who have not taken their Oath of Professional will be held before the Board on Sunday, September 28, 2008, at 1:30 in the afternoon, at the Centennial Hall, Manila Hotel, One Rizal Park, Manila.



Successful Examinees in the GUIDANCE COUNSELOR LICENSURE EXAMINATION

1 ALDAY, MYRA PATRON
2 AQUI, ANNA CHRISTINA SANTOS
3 ATILLO, ANALENE NATIVIDAD
4 AWINGAN, WILMALYN ADAG
5 BABANTO, RHEENA ESTER BANTULA
6 BACOSA, LEAH SIOSON
7 BASAWIL, CECILE AGUILAN
8 BAUTISTA, ANGELIE DOLIGOSA
9 BAUTISTA, MARIA THERESA MERCADO
10 BELTRAN, FLORY CAYABYAB
11 BUENAFE, FINI JOY PALACIO
12 BUSTILLO, ANGELI BALDOVINO
13 CABACUNGAN, NERISSA GONZALES
14 CABARON, LYNMARIE THERESE ARANETA
15 CADANO, KRISTINE CEPE
16 CALLO, FRANCES RUTH LOURDES SESPERES
17 CANLAS, CHERRY LOU DUQUE
18 CARDENAS, MARIA TERESA TABUÑAR
19 CARLOS, KRISTINA ROSE GUIAO
20 CHAN, CHERRY LO
21 CHUA, CLAUDINE SY
22 CIPRIANO, ADARNA MIRASOL
23 CORTEZ, MARIA DOROTHY ALONZO
24 CORTEZ, MARYROSE PICO
25 CUA, CYMBELINE CHAN
26 CUDEL, ANDREW DE LUNA
27 DAVID, ADONIS PACLEB
28 DE CASTRO, FRANCINE ROSE ASUNCION
29 DELA CRUZ, SHERILLYN DIZON
30 DIZON, MICHELLE MARIE CALIXTO
31 DIZON, STEPHANIE ROSE TOLENTINO
32 DOMENDEN, NHORLY URBIZTONDO
33 GAGNI, ELIZABETH MARFEL FORTES
34 GONZALEZ, MARIA MARGARITA CRISOSTOMO
35 HOGGANG, GERALDA PINOY-AN
36 IMBANG, LEI MARIE FENETE
37 JANAIRO, EFRAEM ABAD
38 JOSUE, MARY JOCELYN BALANGUE
39 JOVER, MURIEL MINERVA
40 KURZE, ANDREA ROBERTO
41 LAWAS, RICKY REMETIO
42 LEGASPI, ESTESA XARIS QUE
43 LINGALING, ROSALIE OSALVO
44 LOPEZ, JOCELYN BUENAVENTURA
45 LUBONG, MARICEL VELASCO
46 MAURICIO, CANDY DELA CRUZ
47 MEDINA, FERDINAND LABIOS
48 MENDOZA, ANNIE TANCIOCO
49 MORES, ELMERANDO TAGUIBAO
50 NAVAL, JEANETTE VICTORIA ALBANO
51 NAVAREZ, JOEL CASTILLO
52 NAYVE, MARY ANNE LOPEZ
53 NGO, MYRLINDA ROSE ABAD
54 OAEL, IRENE CULAS
55 OCAMPO, MARICAR BERNARDO
56 OIDE, CONCHITA LICUANAN
57 PADSOYAN, REYNALYN TAYAWA
58 PAELANO, AARON MAGNO
59 PAJARILLAGA, FLERIDA SANTIAGUEL
60 PANTALEON, JAYMEE ABIGAIL KLINEFELTER
61 PAPAS, LOVELYN SISON
62 PARCASIO, AURORA PAULO
63 PAULO, MARY GRACE BLASICO
64 PIDLAOAN, KAREN CUSTODIO
65 PRE, JULIUS CUARESMA
66 QUEMI, MARIFEL PONCE
67 QUIAMNO, DIOSDADO JR BONDE
68 QUIBA, CAROLYN CRUZ
69 QUIBA, MENDELSON POLANTE
70 QUINDOR, JUDYLYNN IGUBAN
71 RIMANDO, KAREN ORTIGUERO
72 ROGEL, ELNA MARTIN
73 ROSAL, MANOL TABLADA
74 SALDA, JESHANAH BASALONG
75 SARABIA, JOSELITO SAÑADA
76 SINDOL, ANNIE EVE DAVID
77 STA ANA, OLIVER BALTAZAR
78 TIMBOL, MA NANETTE CRUZ
79 TOLEDO, CAROL MADLANGSAKAY
80 TRAGICO, GIFT DEL CARMEN
81 TRIGUERO, JANICE PUNZALAN
82 VILLAREAL, RITA LORENZO
83 VILLON, ALEXANDRA WANDA LOMOD
84 YAMZON, MAY DAVID

CONGRATULATIONS to all of us who made History in the field of GUIDANCE and COUNSELING here in the Philippines!!!

CABAnata 20: I am a Licensed TEACHER

May 2, 2008
LET Exam Results for April 2008 Secondary Level

Roll of Successful Examinees in the
L.E.T. - SECONDARY - All Regions
Held on APRIL 6, 2008
Released on APRIL 30, 2008

Page: 39 of 76
Seq. No. N a m e

1851 JOSE, JOANNE PAGLIAWAN
1852 JOSEF, FLORDECILA ABORDO
1853 JOSUE, MARY JOCELYN BALANGUE
1854 JOVEN, JIECEBEL BELEÑA
1855 JOVENAL, LUDY BAGINDA
1856 JOYOHOY, HAZEL MAGLINTE
1857 JUABAN, LOURDES LUPIBA
1858 JUAÑO, LEAH TAGUMPAY
1859 JUBASAN, LAILE REAN ACEBUCHE
1860 JUDAN, RONALD FERNANDEZ
1861 JUEVES, IRENE BANAC
1862 JULIAN, ADORA PACTOL
1863 JULWAHID, ALDING BALADJI
1864 JUMAO-AS, CHARITO GARCIA
1865 JUMAO-AS, DOMINADOR APARILLA
1866 JUMAQUIO, MICHAEL DELA CRUZ
1867 JUMAWAN, APRIL ALEGRIA
1868 JUMAWAN, KAREN MAE OCUM
1869 JUNIO, ROEN MORADOS
1870 JUNTILLA, ANALYN BOOC
1871 JUNTILLA, JOAN MANSUETO
1872 JUNTO, ROCELIO GALIMBA
1873 JUSTINIANI, JEHN PILAPIL
1874 JUSTO, ROMEL OCARIS
1875 JUSTOBA, YURI COPINGCO
1876 JUTBA, KRISTINE AUSEJO
1877 JUTIC, MARY ROSE BARRACA

CABAnata 19: The LUKER Fever!

This is my first entry after daring to make a step forward. And today marks the 7th day after the first ever licensure exam for Guidance and Counseling in the Philippines.

Seven long days of anxiety for the 160 of us who dared to make history… our 7th day suffering the “Luker fever”.

The two-day board exam started last August 21, 2008 held at Manuel L. Quezon University, Quiapo, Manila. The experience of just being in the busy streets of Quiapo, passing by the miraculous church where several old ladies unconsciencely sell “pamparegla” (instigate menstruation) roots soaked in whatever liquid that was and goon-looking men hiding themselves behind innocent-looking children waiting for prey was already an ordeal for me to go through. What more would answering 675 items with just a ten-year experience in the field to equip me bring out in me? Oooooohhhhh… the “Luker fever” I guess!

You bet I had the most… I mean, one of the most significant experiences in my thirty years of existence (Yeah! Yeah… I’m thirty years old. Not so young anymore!) during the board exam – it’s being introduced to “Luker” for the first time. And what a heck of an experience!

Have you been subjected to an overwhelming embarrassment all your life?

Oh well, in my case, the only consolation for my embarrassment was… errrr… so far, that is, was that my level of embarrassment wasn’t known to others.

Right that you are! I was caught off guard when I encountered “Luker” and his/her theory encapsulated in almost 10% of the questions in that milestone called “board examination”!

In my previous blog, I mentioned with pride that I have used eclectic counseling for almost ten years now. There are my favorite Person-Centered Approach by Rogers and Existential Theory by May and Frankl and several others. There is also the all-time controversial Psychosexual Orientation by Freud and his famous libido concept; Erikson’s Psychosocial Development; Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs; Piaget’s Cognitive Development; Developmental Tasks by Havighurst; the Behaviorist perspective by Pavlov, Skinner and Bandura; Williamson’s Trait-Factor Counseling; Transactional Analysis by Berne; Glasser’s Reality Therapy; REBT by Ellis; Psychosocial Learning by Krumboltz; and a dozen more like Super, Parsons, Roe, Gottfredson, Dawis, Holland, Brown, Young, Mitchelle, Gysbers, Ginzburg and Ginsberg for career pathing. But “LUKER”???

Oh “Luker”! Don’t even know if he is a he or she is a she!!!

Haven’t really met him/her even by-passingly in any psychology-related or guidance and counseling book… more so of his/her theory and developmental stages in counseling.

So how did I answer the almost 10% question?

Easy meat!

I used a bit of common sense.

Spiced with my analytic persona.

And then 99% of “ini-mini-my-ni-moh” stuff!

Sure that’s neat for someone who would like to make history, eh!

But I’m sure as heaven could witness, I am experiencing the “Luker fever” up to this very moment!

Maybe the only way to lower the tension is the board exam result to be posted -- the “gate-keeping” perspective -- either opening some fresh and new heights for me or ending my Guidance and Counseling career.

Duh! Anyway I already have my Special Ed license, it won’t matter much anyway!




(sob-sob-sic-sic)

Hey, I’m not sour-graping!

Just being realistic anyhow.

But to anyone who happen to pass by my site and read this entry, hope you’ll bridge the gap between me and LUKER!!!