Batch 04-05

I’m left here holding nothing but my memories and I don’t know if my memories are true. – Ally McBeal

Call me ungrateful or anything close to that but I never really returned to my high school after my graduation. Hell, my last day there was on the day of our graduation, and I never came back. I have always thought some of the things that happened to me there—especially during my senior year—had hurt me so much beyond repair that I never wanted to come back.

There was a point in time when I don’t remember anything about my last two years in high school, just the prom and the graduation. Nothing else in between. Every time a batch mate would message me and tell me something that he or she missed back in high school, I simply just couldn’t share the sentiment for I couldn’t remember both the feeling and the memory itself, and I hated myself for that. I cried myself to sleep for countless of nights during my first two years in college for I simply just couldn’t remember; I wanted to come back but I’m scared of what coming back would do to me.

And for some weird reason I felt the urge of writing something about the batch that took me in (I was a transferee), about the batch that made high school a bit more exciting and happy—and I wanted to tell them that no matter what, I wouldn’t want to have it otherwise.

I used to remember my first day in my new school as the day when I saw two of the most gorgeous guys ever in my life (that was before I met basketball and the players): Kevin and Caloy (not Caloy-college, okay? For clarity’s sake, I’d call Caloy-high school “Gian”). Kevin has the most wonderful smile, the killer smile, that Close Up smile. Gian was the soft-spoken guy who had girls woo over him for he was simply that: the perfect gentleman and the nicest guy, pero nasa loob ang kulo. Gian and Kev were part of these barkada (Most of them heartthrobs, class clowns, mga pasaway, and all that. Very nice blend, if you ask me.) that was most influential, and they had a girl-group counterpart that is equally flashy, beautiful and influential.

I was never a part of that group, but I’d like to think that I was at one point in time. Bianca and Leah (a.k.a. Meh) are the most fabulous girls that I’ve ever met, and I’ve always wished I had gotten close to them earlier. But of course we moved in different social circles, and I was more of a part of a floating barkada—either that or we had a barkada of our own. I never really got to know that. But if there is Jesy, you’d better be sure I’m there as well. She was my best friend, the same best friend I pushed away when he hurt me (see Three Days Ago)—or should I say, I hurt myself with him?

Koko, Anjelyn, Gia, Marian, Tasha, Lea, Lyn, Maita, Ellaine, Shylla, Rowel, Rachelle, Rhea, Avonne, Grace, Mica, Amanda, and Ed—one full house group. Lotsa fun and lotsa talk in this one. Missed them lots.

JD, Doc, Bry, Nero, Gian, Vince, John, Robbi (my promdate), Kevin, Tolits, Migs, Kitoy, Amboy, Nikko, Aron, Kester, Daniel, Erico, Christian and Jelo—collectively known as “Okokx.” There is one weird etymology to that word, and from what I know, it was derived from the sound of drinking beer, the ulk ulk sound you hear when you gulp down anything liquid. They loved to drink from what I know, and judging from the video JD or Nikko made in their very own Friendster account, their sponsor is Red Horse and Marlboro Red.

And then another boy group: Justin, Magalong, Ronnie, Owen, DJ, Hurgo, Jose Ong, JM, Jasper, Joey (ex-Okokx), AJ, Nowen, Nowie, Ian, Andren, Bonix, Ellison, Kenji, Victor and Sytu—most of the dudes in this group are either Senior Boy Scouts and math geniuses or just plainly genius. They’re the ones who usually stay behind in the classrooms to play chess while Okokx guys go down and eat their hearts out or go girl watching (If they are girls to watch. From what I remember, the only students who have lunch breaks at our slot were just us.) or make tambay outside the room playing a plethora of Parokya ni Edgar songs.

The Okokx girl counterpart group (they don’t drink and smoke like these guys do, they’re just one of the major groups in the batch): Bianca, Meh, G, DA, Bei, Pau, Khat, Tat, Dhi, Karen, Joyee, Karess, Nicka, Issa, Tasha, Tsarm.

And then there’s me and Jesy. We’re more like the floaters. We could go with either barkada, Koko’s or Bianca’s. Call us flexible.

In every batch there is an outcast. And in ours, it’s Daphne.

And then there are those in our batch that went away: Ruth, Andren and Aiko.

I hope I mentioned all 78 in our batch (not including the ones that “went away”—to the States mostly).

Missed them.

Dude, kelan ang reunion?

Swimming!

Pass the Baton

      I realized while I was in the restroom washing my clothes that love is very much like a relay—yes, those guys who are passing on the baton to win the race. I don’t really know how I came to this conclusion and maybe I’ll be forcing it a bit, but try and listen.

I’ve given up way too many guys for the happiness of my friends and for their own happiness, and I used to joke that I was a recycle bin for after they throw ‘them’ away, I would pick them up and care for it, and when they want it back, I would willingly ‘restore’ them in their proper ‘places.’ I have passed on the baton far too many times to be able to win the relay, and I’ve always wondered if I could have just not given it up… if I could still have won the guy’s heart in the end.

I always end up losing myself.

But I’d rather not dwell on what ifs.

I was hurt, yes, when I gave them up, but I also know it was for the better. I knew they would be better off without me—or they’re better off if they weren’t with me. Not that they loved me the way I wanted them to. A friend of mine used to tell me that I was “always the best friend, never the girlfriend,” and I have always fitted that role for such a long time that guys treat me always as their barkada or little sister, and I fall in love with them and get nothing but friendly-friends love in return.

Funny how passing it off would do you bad.

It wouldn’t win the race for you all the time, for you are letting another person take on the responsibility of winning the race instead of winning it yourself.

What if you drop the baton in the middle of passing it on?

Who picks it up first?

I usually do the picking up part, and the brushing off the next in line would do.

They reap what I sow.

Damn it. What a martyr.

Pathetic me.

“Back then I kept saying that I didn’t want to fall in love ever again. However, no matter how hard and painful it was, I wanted to live that dream again, I wanted to love someone deeply.”

All-Stars

April 30, 2007 19:24

Yes, I didn’t watch it live, but still I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

I watched it on television, and I have to congratulate each and every PBA player who participated (like Eric Menk who came and danced even though he had an injury—his way of giving back to the fans who voted him into the South All-Stars) and especially those players who won.

First, to Willie Miller who won the obstacle challenge, a precarious second over Denok Miranda, I think. For Dondon Hontiveros, who won the three-point shootout over Willie Miller, Gary David and Mark Caguioa (and he’s griping about the media again. Tsk.). Then to the three-peat slam dunk king who hails from Tarlac, Niño “KG” Canaleta. Who else?

Oh. To the former-Coca-Cola-Tiger-now-turned-Sta.-Lucia-Realtor Denok Miranda for bagging the trickshot challenge over Ronald Tubid.

Whee.

And I am doing all of this from memory, okay?

To Dominic Uy (hot shooting, honey), Jayjay Helterbrand and the city councilor of La Union won the shooting stars challenge, go lang ng go guys. (Off night, Jayjay?)

Then to Dominic Uy again, Mark Macapagal and that dude from the Mayor’s office of Baguio who made the half-court shot, congratulations guys.

To the top three of the three-point shootout (Willie, Gary, and Dondon) who beat out the “legends” (which includes Pido Jarencio who shot a measly total of 6 points—eech. And you call yourself a shooting coach. Nice.—still haven’t forgiven him, I’m sorry.) in the three-point legends shootout, go guys.

And finally (insert deep breath here) to the North All-Stars: Mark Caguioa, Jayjay Helterbrand, John Arigo, Ranidel de Ocampo, Enrico Villanueva, Kerby Raymundo, Macmac Cardona, Willie Miller, Danny Ildefonso, Rommel Adducul, and Larry Fonacier.

Jayjay and Willie were co-All-Star MVPs.

Whee.

North won in a pretty much defensive game (insert sarcasm here). The score was 145-142, highest-scoring ever in the history of All-Stars.

Mark said with utter defiance that North would win the game, and then jokingly added that they would win “dahil andito ako.”

Oh diba. Ang level ng confidence ni Papa Mark.

That’s why he’s called The Spark.

:)

And how could I forget? The rookies won over the sophomores, burying them to be exact. Yey to Joseph Yeo, Arwind Santos, LA Tenorio, Mark Andaya, Aaron Aban, Jireh Ibañez and Jay-R Reyes (both former UP Maroons), and last but not the least Gabby Espinas.

And I hated Mico Halili (I’ve always loved him) at that moment when he continuously laughed and picked on Joseph about wearing the wrong color of jersey. Yes, he may be wrong, but he finally scored and played well—Arwind won’t be getting those freaking dunks that wowed the crowd if it wasn’t for his assists—and can’t you just appreciate that?

Grr.

Sorry. I hate everyone and anyone who is against and is saying bad things about Joseph Yeo. (And any basketball player I love for that matter.)

Love him that much.

Haha.