This past week, I’ve been talking to and about my friends from childhood (who remain my closest friends until now). It shocks a lot of people that we are all still one barkada and that we still meet up and talk to each other.
Honestly, I’d ascribed the last 10 or so years to shared history, experiences, and values – but if that was the case, more people would still be friends with the same 10 people all their life.
Maybe it’s chemistry. Because on the outside, there are actually quite a number of people who we share stories, values, and ambitions with. Even if we’re all nerds who made nerd-friends in college, it’s still not the same. How can they even begin to compete with a decade’s worth of parties, summer outings, retreats, field-trips, and simple day-to-day living together?
We’re also pretty lucky to have remained drama-free. Not that we never had problems exactly, but more of, it never escalates or happens among ourselves. We’ve also let go of a lot of people we used to be close to. Though I admit, I miss some of these people a bit, sometimes it feels like a gulf stands between us and we can no longer reconnect.
After all these years, we know each other pretty well. Habits, quirks, attitudes, opinions… of course, some still manage to shock and to surprise.
Truly, it’s still a question of how we managed to remain friends for so long, when at one point in time, we have all competed with each other. Sometimes, I try to figure it out too.
Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the friends I have and the friends I’ve lost. I think we were all meant to meet for a reason. I hope we keep meeting for a long time.
Here’s to all the dimsum, the leg injuries, the petty song-writing, the love-interest trading, the Club Penguin evenings, the minor debates, the rehashing of “what happened then”, the inside jokes, the tireless scheduling and rescheduling of meetings… what a life, you know?
Running time: approx. 4 hours – but was that enough to satisfy me? No. I must blog.
Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel North and South received a lot of new love when they made this production in 2004, and it was well-deserved. The costumes were very good, and the acting was excellent. (Oh, the decadent tension. The f e e l i n g s .)
While many people would say that the BBC site broke down that year because of then newcomer Richard Armitage as leading man John Thornton, the production was great and it related the narrative very well. I hope people genuinely enjoyed it for what it was, rather than simply a source of eye-candy.
I haven’t read the whole novel through, but I don’t think it’s easy to adapt. I do think they managed to do the novel justice. The BBC relayed a lot of the complexities and moral issues that figure heavily in the book. I liked it very much, and it’s a rare adaptation that complements and enhances the source material.
I’ve always wanted to watch it, because you don’t spend as long a time as I have in the Pride and Prejudice fandom without hearing of North. While P&P is a more subtle examination of our moral obligations to society and the marriage market, N&S is more outright revolutionary in its examination of capitalism, progress, and values.
I’m trying to write this blog as well as I can, but my monkey brain isn’t cooperating. It’s still trying to process the whole damn thing. Also, I became a Richard Armitage stan – but I’m gonna be selective about it. The man deserves to be in more sideburns and cravats.
Daniela Denby-Ashe, who plays Margaret Hale, was also very compelling. While I imagine some people got unnerved by how Margaret deals with things (miscommunication SIGH), I liked how spunky and intelligent and forward-thinking she is.
I feel like I have more words in me about this, but to spare myself and everyone else the pain, I’ll end it simply: watch the 2004 BBC adaptation of North and South, then proceed to stan. I’ll be reblogging content on Tumblr now. Bye, and see you next week for my next micro-obsession.
“The whole story would have been speedily formed under her active imagination; and every thing established in the most melancholy order of disastrous love.” – Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen
Lately, my thoughts have turned a little darker than usual and I’ve been musing on what constitutes as a “tragedy”.
We use the word freely. News stories describe accidents or devastations as tragedies. We call it “tragic” when an inconvenience happens to us sometimes.
Back in freshman college English, a tragedy is what you’d describe a story that doesn’t end happily. In theatre, for example, Romeo and Juliet is a tragic play because no one gets a definitive happy ending – versus comedy plays like Much Ado Nothing, because we see the main characters enjoy happiness or rewards at the end.
But to use “tragedy” to describe a current life circumstance is to botch its meaning. Because whether or not our stories will be comedies or tragedies isn’t really up for us to decide. We have no right to pass judgment on a story that has yet to end, and stories will live as long as life itself goes on.
An old Chinese story relates the ever changing perception between good and bad fortunes. Once upon a time, wild horses of extraordinary beauty and strength appear and graze in the field of a poor old farmer. His neighbors remarked that he’s a recipient of good fortune, because the horses fetched a fine price. The wise old man smiled and said nothing of it.
One day, his only son tried to tame one of the wild horses in the field, only to be thrown off and remain crippled forever. The gossipy neighbors remarked this time that the old man has got a rotten fortune. And again, the old man said nothing.
Until such a day that war broke out, and the emperor called for all eligible and healthy men to enlist in the army. Since the old man’s son was an invalid, he was not required to enlist. While many young men fell in the war, the old man’s son was spared. The neighbors returned to their original stance that the old man was very fortunate indeed. Still, the old man said nothing about the matter – because he knew that fortune is a fickle thing, and can change any time.
I think this wisdom has been lost to us over time. We like seeing, knowing, judging – all at once. It makes us blind to possibilities, to hope itself. Because to say something is a tragedy is to deem it a lost cause. The story is finished, and it is hopeless.
And for me, I’ve been melodramatic about the period of life that came after graduation. Since I’ve begun, I regret my choice over and over again, bemoaning myself as a tragedy – as a waste. A lot of innocent beliefs and naiveté have been lost in this time period, and a great deal of what I used to love and to respect (newspapers and journalists, for starters) has wavered a lot.
Perhaps I’ve become just another jaded cynic in the world.
But if it’s of any comfort to myself at least, my own story isn’t over yet. I have more decisions to make and things to think about. I just have to be more discerning in my path, and more hopeful. Because to lose all of that love permanently would truly be a tragedy, and it might not be something I can bear.
Maybe it would be truly tragic if I never learn from my experience. But I hope that when I look back at this time of life – where we’re all young and sparkling and beautiful – I can look, laugh, and cherish the memories that pass by.
Right, so we’re not starting on the first level of my bookshelf because a.) It’s a mess and b.) I think a lot of my major collections are on this level.
1. Is a unicorn keychain my sister brought back from Singapore? or Japan? Unsure. But it was cute and my bookshelf needed a guardian so there she hangs.
2. An old children’s storybook Bible given to me by a not-very-nice old lady. The concept is cute though, with little animals guiding and narrating through some pretty heavy and not PG-13 theological stuff.
3. The Babysitter’s Club – first three books of the series in one volume. It begins with Kristy setting up the club, Claudia failing math, and Stacy letting people know she has diabetes.
4. Two volumes of Jughead’s Daily Digest which are always fun to read.
5. A Php 10 copy of Sweet Valley University, bought during a Christmas fair at school. I was a young fool, because I thought it would be a lot like the old SVH stuff but it’s more soap opera to be honest.
6. A mooncake box made by my cousin for a hotel, but as of today I’m using it as a trinket box.
7. BBC Sherlock Casebook – I had a BBC Sherlock phase and that is all you need to know.
8. The Scorpio Races is a great read! Once, I was reading it on the steps of my parish and a kindly older priest passed by. Because of its red spine, he thought it was a Bible and commended me for reading my Bible. He walked away before I could correct him.
9. Nick Joaquin’s Cave & Shadows for freshman merit English class (I didn’t like it but I had such a hard time finding a copy so I can’t bear to throw it away – sunk cost fallacy, I know.), above it is a research material on climate change printed here, and the Filipino translation of a novel called The Mango Bride… which I bought mistakenly because… I didn’t read the label :—)
10. My journal and a Communication Law and Ethics handout
11. A travel guide to London bought at a book sale, and a paper on Jane Austen, Feminism, and Fiction which connects those very three topics.
12. Two favorite novels: Cruel Beauty and Journey to the River Sea. I more or less took the latter from my cousin who had the copy but never read it. (Me taking books from people not reading them is a lifelong habit which you will see later on.)
13. Books 3 – 7 of the Harry Potter series. The first two in original cover are hard to find. I have begged people for Book 6 for years, and I THINK I bought it eventually from a Book Sale but I forgot about it, because when it resurfaced out of the shelf recently, I was very surprised I had it.
14. The Hunger Games boxed set I searched the earth for when I was thirteen, plus a book of essays about the trilogy as a birthday from the friend who introduced me to the series in the first place. I’m really excited about the prequel novel which was announced recently.
This was a phase I think I was famous in high school for. I entered a declamation contest as Katniss. You guys don’t understand.
15. My boxed set of John Green novels from when I was fifteen, which I ordered from Amazon. It was probably one of the first few parcels I ever had my dad pick up from the post office.
16. Copies of Anna & The French Kiss, Lola & The Boy Next Door, and Isla & The Happy Ever After. I lined up for ten hours to have Anna and Lola signed by author Stephanie Perkins, and it was really amazing.
17. A Court of Thorns and Roses, A Court of Mist and Fury, and A Court of Wings and Ruin – probably one of the most devastating book series that occupied a huge chunk of my time in college – I spent WEEKS obsessing over Mist and Fury after I read it. It was the best in the trilogy, and the novella and coloring book of the series is stocked on a different shelf.
18. Small writing pads and writing prompt notes, medals from college.
19. A French translation book, and two Princess Diaries How-To guides. The pink one is on how to be a princess, which is very on brand for me to buy. The blue one is about princesses in history and in fiction, which was owned by a friend who never cared for the Princess Diaries as much as me, so I more or less got it from her.
20. The Kane Chronicles trilogy by Rick Riordan – another friend was moving out and into her med school dorm, so she was giving away old books and I couldn’t let those babies go to some stranger.
21. Pocket guide to the Kane Chronicles universe, which I bought for myself during a Christmas book haul many moons ago.
writing space for now 