dancing in lines

chicken!

Dance is an expression, an epitome of how life depicts itself.



I learned how to dance today...Literally. I had my first lessons in my PE class today which was actually Line Dance. Only a few people know or have heard about it. And practically speaking, whenever I tell them (people who frantically ask the question, "Ano yung Line Dance?") what it is, it really blows me off.



Actually, the steps aren't that hard though. All you need is a sturdy feet and the guts to pull it off. Unlike other dances, such as the classin Street Jazz, you really need to have those groovin' skills in order to not humiliate yourself. In Line Dance, everyone would surely follow and learn.



Frankly, we dance in lines. Yes, that's true; the name speaks for itself. Geared up in a cowboy uniform (e.g. white blouse, maong pants and black, high-heeled, leather shoes) adds a little touch to it. The dance plays to the tune of Country or Western songs that I haven't heard before..ever.



But to be honest, I despise it. I admit that I am not a great dancer, but I could follow certain moves. I was actually expecting to have Tai Chi as my PE for this semester, but as it turned out, my second choice blew my chances. And Line Dance it is.



Maybe, I just feel terribly nervous about it. I am born with the fact that one way or another, I will get humiliated at having dancing as my subject. But then, what else can I do? I'm not the sporty type of person either. That is why I bounded for the lesser evil. Look at how it got me.



Nevertheless, I am not cursing it though. This could be one way that I could get to my inner side (huh?). There could be a lot of great things that might happen during my Line Dance lessons...Things that I don't expect that may have a big impact on my life. Well, that's too much to ask from a simple dance class, heh?



The only thing I can say about all of these for now:



Dance is an expression, an epitome of how life depicts itself...
...and if you have two left feet, you're bound for chaos.





originally written: 19 November 2003

date published in blog: 14 August 2004

journal entry in ENG 2

wasted nothingness

"Who are you? Who am I?" that's the only question that boggles my mind right now. I am doing a reflection paper on PSY 1, and the major, yet simple question presented right at my face was: Who am I?

Pretty tough, huh? Maybe I am the only one whose having a hard time figuring out my own personality. Honestly, I don't know myself that well (who does anyway?!). The only thing definite about me is that I really have a passion for writing. I guess that's just basically it. I don't know what I like in terms of hobbies, food, etc. Needless to say, I don't know how to describe myself as a being. In other words, I even doubt who I really am.

And when you get bombarded with such a question, the only savior I could go to are my experiences; the things that I did in my life. When a person has no absolute alternative for such a "personality crisis," people have said that the best way to learn about yourself, except for yourself of course, is what made you become of who you are now.

But then, I still don't have an idea on what I would write in my reflection paper. Having no television to give light on, and no radio to at least free my mind of all these worries, I've got no other choice but to sit here and stare at the damp grass of the Freedom Park.

The droplets of rain continue to touch the soft, vast grass.

I continue to ponder on myself and my life. Then, it always left me clueless at the end. And the more I think of it, well... The more I realize that I haven't done that much about my life.

So, I thought, what if I die tomorrow? The whole world wouldn't know about it unlike what happened at the late Rico Yan's funeral. After a few years had passed, would anyone still visit me at my grave? Or will I just forever be condemned to an afterlife of being covered by tall grasses of the cemetery? Well, who would know anyway.

Now, that was a great concept.
It stopped raining.

originally written: 18 November 2003
date published in blog: 14 August 2004
journaly entry in ENG 2

adapting retrospectively

A week had just passed. The second semester is starting once again, and honestly, I think that I got somewhat lucky with my subjects and professors. The first semester wasn't that bad enough, though. But I am hoping that this new semester will surpass my expectations and past experiences that I've encountered during the first semester.

Nevertheless, a new journey still awaits.

Actually, during the first week of classes this sem, I was constantly searching for my classmates from the previous sem. Okay, I would confess. I really, really had a wonderful time at my first step her in Los Banos. Everything was almost perfect. I got great friends, nice professors, good grades... In short, I started my life here just right.

And now, as the second semester finally unfolds, I don't know what else to expect.

Of course, I can't bury the fact that I'd get to miss my "old" friends that I really got along with. The only thing that detaches me from thinking of it is to simply accept that it's a part of life. You always have to move on.

Truly, the more I think of it now, the better I get to understand things about life. Life is truly not permanent. As always, you must learn to adapt to new things; that's what we are designed to do. When we were young, we try to squeeze ourselves to the group of children within the neighborhood (it's even harder when you're the only girl around, believe me!) As we get older, we adapt to the nature of school and another sets of friends come along the way. Years just walk past us, sooner or later, we'll just see ourselves adapting to the harsher realities of this so-called life.

Well, I believe that's just it. Maybe I've been thinking too much ahead of time. But hey! Who knows? It's just a matter of time. After a few years I may be reading this journal and reminisce about it.

But until then, I have to adapt myself first to the realities of college life...Including this journal.

originally written: 17 November 2003

date published in blog: 17 August 2004

journaly entry in ENG 2