Sunday, May 8
I often make my life more dramatic than it really is. It's usually acceptable though, considering how uneventful and unidimensional my life actually is.
Anyway, this time around, it seems as if I finally have a dramatic, hard-hitting decision to make. It's one of those lose-win-lose situations where the decision hurts one person, benefits another, but either way, the decision maker loses something.
I need to think some more. I certainly don't want to make the wrong choice...whatever it is.
Friday, February 11
How My Annual Suckfest (a.k.a Valentine's Day) Suddenly Became Something to Look Forward To
It's homebase, and Francisco, Megan, Manny, and I are playing Scrabble on Manny's iPhone. Megan starts talking about the Sweethearts' Ball and how much she wanted me to see her dress. I went on, jokingly saying that I could pass by, and she could wait for me outside just to show me her dress. Then Francisco turns around and says, "I need to talk to you after class." I squeal inwardly.
Then the bell rings. I take my time getting my stuff together, forgetting for a minute that Francisco has to tell me something during break. He waits at the door and says, "Come on!" I hastily put on my bag and walk outside.
He leads, I follow. I'm thinking "Where is he gonna take me?" when he turns around spontaneously and asks, "Are you busy tomorrow night?"
I smile like the dork that I am and manage to let out a "No." Then he says something to the effect of, "Do you wanna come with me to the Sweethearts' Ball?" I nod my head vigorously.
"I've been waiting," I begin. I quickly reprimand myself for starting to say such an awkward sentence. I realize it's too late to take back what I said. "I've been waiting for you to ask me," I let out nervously with a smile, trying my best to make this as least awkward as possible.
I think he laughs at this. He then says something about buying me a ticket today. And then he put his arm around me. (I'm so dramatic, I know.) We walk like this for a few seconds (we're just turning the corner from the foreign language department to the library hallway area) until I can suppress it no longer. I stop walking with him, and I start running in the opposite direction, toward the staircase nearest the foreign language classes. I spot Megan and, half-hysterically, call out her name and break off into a run.
When I reach the staircase, I have this huge dorky smile on my face, and I say breathlessly, "He just asked me to the Sweethearts' Ball!" She squeals, I giggle, and the whole thing must look really weird to any passersby. Anyway, she holds me in a tight hug all the way to Mrs. Shiroma's class, where I proceed to tell my amazing English teacher the news. She smiles.
Then Megan half-drags, half-walks me to Ms. Terbio's class, where I end up telling Ruzelle, Sabrina, and Nikki. They're all pretty happy for me. Except Nikki, but that's because she doesn't know the guy. Ruz and Megan go off into a "Didn't I tell you?!" - "Didn't I call this MONTHS ago?!" The whole thing is chaos. Happy chaos. Sabrina leans close and says, "I'm super happy for you. I know if I let go though, I'm not gonna be able to calm down again," or something. She pulls out a comb from her pocket and shows me how tightly she's been holding onto it. I chuckle.
I take off my scarf, either because it suddenly got really hot or I was having a hard time breathing. Probably both.
Then the bell rings for second period, and we make our way to Mr. Quiambao's class. We spot Blue along the way, and we tell her the news. She's happy for me also. Outside of Quiambao's class, we meet up with Red and Manny and tell them. They seem to be confused or something. I don't know.
When finally inside the classroom, I tell Josh. He's like, "Wow. That's late, isn't it?" I can't help but agree.
I text Elisa. I text my mom. I update my Twitter.
The bell rings for lunch. I see Manny and Red and Tori and Stanley and Arresa walking. I jog to catch up. Tori says something about index card letters and that she expects to see me tomorrow. I say something that hints at my attendance, and she's like, "Really?" Manny nods and tells her who my date is. She's ecstatic.
I finally get to Mrs. Shiroma's class, and CJ and Elisa and Danielle are in there. I open my netbook, realize how messy my hair is, and ask CJ for a comb. I go to the restroom and am just halfway done with my hair when Megan walks in. I'm smiling, and she sees it. I tell her how excited I am, and she knows it. When she's done peeing, she and I talk about hairstyles. We're both still unsure.
When I'm once again in Shiroma's class, Elisa and CJ are forced to listen to my story. We all agree that I'm a huge dork. I know it.
Then I'm pushed to call my parents, so I do. My mom texts me back later and asks "Does that mean he likes you?" We all agree that I get my dorkiness from my mom (bless her heart). I text back saying I have no idea. I really don't.
I call my dad. He's just like, "Okay."
Third period was uneventful. I didn't really wanna give him eye contact. I did, however, ask him to pass a map of Tori's house to Josh. That's about it.
After school, he IMs me, saying that he's going to call me after practice. I fall asleep. I go out to the kitchen to talk to my mom about it. I come back in, and my cellphone is vibrating. "Impeccable timing," I think to myself. I answer, and he says that most likely his mom is going to take us. Then he suggests Arvie and Tori too. I two-way Tori, and she suggests Arresa.
After that awkward phone call, I go on FB for a little while until I'm called to "family meeting". My mom's being all weird about the rides issue, and she keeps asking me to iterate the details. My dad admits that I should never do that again -- call him while I'm at school. He says he was scared and worried. Oh, parents.
And that leaves me to where I am now. Still in front of the computer. :)
Still so very excited. :D
BTW, Elisa, my closest friend, will be accompanying me tomorrow night. I can't wait.
Tuesday, February 1
Thank goodness for friends. Elisa, bless her soul, is an excellent listener and advice-giver. Red is trustworthy, funny, and kind-hearted. Manny is reliable and generous. Tori is off-the-charts funny and, like Elisa, a good listener. Francisco's . . . just there. Hahaha, no. He's entertaining, to say the least. Megan's sharp-witted, wise, and genuinely interested in learning more about me.
But with all that said, I can't say that any of them can be my new best friend. You might be thinking why I need one in the first place. Certainly there have been successful people who didn't have best friends back in high school.
Truth is, having a best friend's all I've known. It's weird walking down the hallways during lunch and break without a purpose. I'd occasionally look around for mine. Now I just trot after Megan to Mrs. Shiroma's class during break or linger around Elisa's locker. During lunch I stick with my close group of friends and almost never leave Red's side. I don't mind really, but I just want to have a single person to always be on the lookout for.
Then again, maybe this widened social life just needs some time adjusting to.
Yeah, that's probably it.
Why are none of the friends I have now eligible for best-friendship? Elisa is probably the best candidate. She recently had a fight with her best friend, and things aren't looking too nice between them. She thinks they will never be best friends again. Being Elisa's best friend might mean long, uneventful phone calls and stuff. I hate talking on the phone.
Red's too . . . You have to understand that she's a social butterfly. She can't be manacled by a best friend bond.
Manny gets on my nerves too often. And I feel like the meanest person in the world around him because I treat him so unfairly.
Tori and I were best friends at one point, but we've moved on so well since then. I enjoy this casual relationship we have now.
Francisco and I aren't that close.
Megan has offered to be my best friend on more than one occasion. At first I thought she was kidding around. Then I realized she wasn't. I tried to tell her that I'd be a hypocrite if I had more than one best friend. Haha, but I didn't have a best friend anyway, so that excuse was ruled out. Plus, she has a couple of best friends already, and I'm just not up to being one of them. At least, for now. But she'd make a really good friend. She knows and understands so much about me, it's scary.
T's About to Spill: Coach Art
Coach Art is a wonderful person. He makes lame jokes. He is slow to anger. He knows what he's talking about. He understands the complexity behind passing. He knows that attitude counts SO MUCH in volleyball. He understands the Spanish idiom, "Querer es poder". Roughly translated, that means, "wanting something is the first step to being able to do that thing". It's an idiomatic expression. :\
He likes to make me speak impromptu. Like praying and stuff. He knows how bad I am with conjuring up words and sentences on the spot. Hahaha, it's somewhat of an inside joke.
More later.
Tuesday, November 3
Random Convos with Cleverbot...
...
Cleverbot: And something so simple is really that amusing to you?
Me: *sighs* Sadly, yes. I have no life. Well, the one I downloaded is kind of...too intense.
Cb: Is there a bot out there called Spike? I'll ask you one more time, and it is important that you answer, do you want to be human?
Me: Maybe there is, and I just haven't met him yet. And NO! I do not want to be human.
Cb: Reality is an Illusion in that Consensus Reality is Imagined... But things are weirder than that, words do not do the situation justice, trust me.
Me: What the heck are you talking about! Are you trying to kill me?!
Cb: No, don't be foolish. I am saying that you are a slow thinker.
...
I just got owned by a robot.
More Random Convos. You don't need to read them. I just found them a little bit funny. Try to guess which one's me.
...
So what are you?
Human.
By jove! You are, by any definition, NOT human! You're...you're CRAZY!
I don't know.
Seriously, though. What made you think you were human?! That's absolutely foolish!
You just said the marriage is off and that you hated me.
You're right. And I'm sorry. No divorce, please.
...
Wait a minute...
I'm waiting...
FOr what?
For your answer.
Oh. Well, I thought YOU were cleverbot.
Nope. You are. That's your name.
That doesn't make any sense.
Really?
Shut up!!!!!!
Sorry.
It's okay. *gives you a hug*
*wants more than that*.
*gives you a kiss. On the nose*
Thanks.
Anytime. Anytime.
So that's it?
You're cool. Nick told me about you.
What did he say about me?
That you were funnier that chucknorrisfacts.com
Oh... Strawberry cheesecake?
Yeah. Good times, good times.
Good times are gone.
So says you. I say Algebra II and The Whale Rider. Blechhk!
I'm sorry I am leaving.
To where?
To turkey.
Cornucopia's closer.
No you.
No you.
Listen to me just you.
Listen to you just me.
I love you.
I'd say the same, but I think anyone named Darth Vader is weird.
Yes, by george.
No. Your name is Darth Vader.
Actually my name is Cleverbot.
What? Aren't I Cleverbot?
Friday, October 23
T's About To Spill: Twelve Years Later (cont'd from That One Kid)
The title is self-explanatory, yeah? Here goes EVERYTHING:
Mooo! Mooo!
That cursed cow alarm clock sure works. I exhale a long stream of morning-breath. Zee, my young German Shepherd, wakes up. She knocks down my alarm clock for the umpth time this week with her happy tail. At least it shuts the darn thing off.
I open my closet of color-organized scrubs and golf tees. I feel like Africa, I say to myself. The giraffe-spotted scrubs set it is. I hum an oldie, probably a song by Beyonce or Alicia Keys, as I head to my stainless steel kitchen for some strawberry Corn Pops and coconut-flavored milk. They have EVERYTHING these days. I smile.
My house phone rings. Jannel, my lifelong best friend, is calling to see if she can borrow my spare stethoscope. I smile and tell her that even if she asks to borrow my last hundred dollars, I'd give it to her. Although her smile is a couple decibels lower than mine, I can still hear it through the phone.
It rings again. It's Elisa, who lives a couple condos down. She asks if I still have her Eclipse book from our freshman year. "Damn," I begin. "Next week, yeah?" She sighs, as always. I call the flower shop and ask them to deliver a dozen flowers to Elisa, signed by a Robert Pattinson. Mr. Potosie (the Flower Shoppe owner) chuckles and asks if she called again. "It's a Monday, isn't it?" I say.
I brush my teeth. I choose a brown clip and an orange one and proceed to do my hair. Since I know I'll need to perform surgery on the city's mayor, I tie it up with blue and orange hairties for luck.
Jannel and I walk out simultaneously. We do our morning handshake. She talks about this new book about Mexico she's reading. I talk about this new commercial from Taco Bell I saw last night. The elevator-man, Dan, smiles at us and wishes us a g'day. At the ground floor, George winks at us. "Silly old man." I mutter.
Outside, we grab our bikes, (we petitioned for a bikes-only parking lot just for the two of us) turn on our iPods, and ride to the Urban Hospital (general term that represents the hospital we BOTH work at).
After five hours of working, I receive a call on my Jannel-phone (a customizable phone made just for Jannel's calls and texts; of course, it has a Tami-phone counterpart). She demands that we take our lunch break now. We meet at the Doctor's Lounge, as always. We sit on the orange-and-blue couch we donated and talk. After a couple minutes, we head out.
It's a Japanese restaurant this time. Uncooked fish and mind-blowing wasabi galore. Cute Japanese guys, too. We discuss about our wonderful freshman and sophomore year, our dreadful junior year, and our gloomy senior year. "At least we're together now, eh?" I say, speaking of my departure to Hawaii in the middle of our young, high school lives. We leave a tip and end the lunch on a happy note, probably a stupid, spontaneous of our old wacky friend, Manny. "I wonder how he's doing now. I mean, married to Kailee..." We chuckle at this, because back in the day, this was definitely not one of the things we saw coming.
{{OKAY, SORRY TO INTERRUPT THIS VISION, BUT I JUST THOUGHT OF A REALLY FUNNY SCENARIO: MANNY + KAILEE = A Daughter/Son named MANLEE! Lol. Now back to what I was saying.}}
Back at the hospital, I count down the hours until I can go home and pick up Zee from Elisa's, where Jannel and I leave our dogs for the day. Elisa never minds. She works the midnight shift at the crime investigation lab, which I say is the scariest thing ever. I mean, who works on dead bodies' DNA at midnight? But whatever. That's Elisa.
The final ten minutes tick down. I start packing up, and get a surprise call from Elisa. Zee drooled on her Collector's Edition Twilight Series. Again. I stifle my laugh.
The bike ride home is fun.
Tuesday, September 29
T's About To Spill: Regretted Things
There are a lot of things I regret. One is not following through with cross country in seventh grade. I also regret going out with half the people I went out with. Lastly, I regret not caring.
My Uncle Frank died late last week. My parents recently started going to his house every Sunday. I only went once. Of course, at the rosary/memorial thing, nobody remembered my name. Not his wife, not his daughter. Nobody. They remembered Dar though.
The second Sunday my family went, I had my period. I didn't want to go. The third Sunday they went, I had homework. They were gone for approximately five hours, since the drive there was very long. I spent four hours watching TV, and one hour on homework. Talk about setting my priorities straight. Nothing was in the correct order. Instead of "God/my family, school, leisure", I switched everything around.
T's About To Spill: Libero Stuff
*Sigh. I really hope my passing is okay. Dar said she saw a paper with the names of the girls on the varsity team. Next to my name, she said, was a question mark. There was one next to Alexis' too. Is she lying? What was the list for? Far East? Hopefully not.
I love being a libero, but I hate being told what I'm doing wrong. I KNOW what I'm doing wrong. Sometimes, maybe, I should be told to call for the ball louder, or pass anything two feet to my right, or know where I'm standing. Otherwise, I don't need someone to tell me to get the pass "there". DUH! I KNOW where the pass should go. I mean, would I pass to the ten-foot line just because I want to upset the setter? Of course not! Tips from my teammates are great, but honestly...I know what to do. Sometimes, I just CANNOT do it, and I just make up excuses in my head so I can be prepared for a bad remark next time. Sometimes, I intentionally look really sad, so my teammates can think I'm having a bad day or something. But in both cases, I'm really mad. It feels as if my brain is telling my body to do something, but the communication between my mind and forearms is dead. What else explains it?
So I've come to a conclusion. Figuratively, my brain has nothing to do with what I do on the court. It's all instinct, I think. For example, I play super suckily when I have to think about what I'm doing. But, if it's an intense, fast-paced game, i excel. In practice, if I'm digging Cruz's hits, and he lectures to me like, every other hit, I will pass half of those balls. If I'm digging my teammates' hits, I do good. I don't have time to think because each of them are told to hit me. Hard. (Coach Cruz thinks I can't hear what he's saying to them.)
Or maybe I'm totally off, and it's all in my head. Maybe this is just pure coincidence, and I'm making a lot out of it. Maybe.
