byebye summer.

It has been six days since I got back home, and in those days, I have been nothing if not a big bum. I have gotten reacquainted with our couch from which I've been apart for about five months; it's the only spot in the house - besides my bed and the random chair I get to sit in at the table during meals - that I have felt comfortable in. The whole house itself is, well, unfamiliar. I feel so alien in my own home. And I've only been gone five months.

Despite being a bum, I still haven't gotten around to resetting my body clock. I am still dead in the morning, alive at night, to my mother's consternation. I guess it's the one thing college will always have imparted on me - the ability of inability in the morning. Not that I'm complaining. I never really was a morning person, to begin with.

But then, on to the good part. I missed a lot of things in my five months' absence. Like food, for example. Haha. I mean real, home-cooked meals, the kind you'd feel was made with lots of TLC. I promised myself I'd lose some of that flab gained in months of fast food junk and movie dates, in the ten days I'd be here. I'd forgotten how my mother's cooking was. I am failing in the weight control department miserably. Sorry.

Speaking of failure, first day of real summer vacation and already I was experiencing withdrawal symptoms from schoolwork. I'd go looking for anything to write or read - the newspaper, answer the daily Sudoku, make my sister's parent's consent letter, search the house down for my Twisted books (they're still complete, thank goodness) - anything that'd remind me of school. And now that my vacation's about to end, I'm starting to have pre-back-to-school jitters. What if something happens and I won't be able to enroll? What if I have terror professors this semester? What if there's no more japanese cake at the Main Library? Nooooo.

Sigh. I have come to the conclusion that I have no freaking idea what I want anymore. I mean, I'm stressed out with the workload at school, but at the same time having nothing to do is stressing me out to. What gives? I think I ought to see a shrink. Maybe when I get back.

But hey, don't get me wrong. I've never been happier. Okay, may be that's not true. I have been happier, once, twice. Okay, more than twice. But the point is, I'm happy. Happier than before this vacation, anyway. Everything that happened, I finally got a break from it all. A break from everything, everybody - yeah, maybe even including myself.

I was planning on this being a bulleted / rundown list of things that ought to be blogged about, like what I learned from watching too much Dora or junk I've discovered from spending too much time on the Internet, but I've better things to tell.

Like how much I missed my family, and the crazy things that happen within the 8-man Funa household. My brother dancing to Lady Gaga's LoveGame; the day-to-day "who's washing the dishes?' question; the quirkiest quips drawn out of the mundane, such as "kaninong mama si Mother Nature?" and this epic duet between my sister and five-year-old brother:

Mimai: Hickory, dickory dock
Euel: The mouse went up the clock
Mimai: The clock struck one
Euel: (pauses) ...Two?

ROFL LMAO LOL HAHA.

And yeah, too much cartoon can addle your brain. Right now I hold this belief that Winnie the Pooh is not suitable for young viewers, especially those in their preoperational stage, ages 2-7 (whoa did I just put that in? OMG Socio101 - Ma'am Sheena's gonna be so proud. Haha). I mean, seriously, who'd want their children to look up to a rabbit with anger management issues, a tiger with ADHD, a pig swamped with all kinds of phobias, and a donkey with a bad case of depression? Not to mention an exhibitionist bear (Winnie - who'd name a male bear Winnie in the first place anyway? - is a bear, isn't he?) to lead the pack. Goody.

And wouldn't that be some kind of freaky thing against natural order, them being friends? Donkey and Rabbit and Piglet ought to have died in the pilot episode, if they'd only been a scientifically and politically correct show. Oh well. My brother and sister will realize that one day. For now I'mma let them enjoy their childhood while they can.

My high school friends are starting to get selective amnesia, specifically things about me. Well, I can't exactly blame them - I have been missing majority of the year, and when I'm here, I hole up in the house and refuse any for socializations other than online. Hehe. I've missed enough events to actually be allowed excommunication from the batch. Must. Make. Up. Pronto.

And there's also that thing I have to do when I get back - fix them friendship bridges that are on the brink of extinction. I've cut ties, gone MIA, and been anti-social with most - if not all, dear goodness I hope not - of my college friends that I have no idea where to start. Worse, I don't know which ones I can still salvage. Dear me. I do have a problem.

But if there's one thing I learned this summer, it's that those cliche proverbs (redudant much?) aren't just for bumper stickers; they actually happen in real life. Well, in my life, at least.

I've always taken for granted that saying "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." I mean, really now, who'd be happy with an open window over a closed door? Not only would you have a hard time climbing in/out, it'd look like you were breaking in. Not good.

But then I got to appreciate it for its proverbial worth when everything that ought not to be mentioned happened consequentially. You know how whoever's up there gives you a random person - family member, friend, BC100 classmate *ahem* - to be your support system, lifeline, oxygen tank when you're having difficulty breathing?

Well, he gave me a stress ball. Yeah.

And I've never been happier. That stress ball's a funny post-birthday gift from the powers that be, I reckon. I was asking for a pair of new dunks. They gave me someone. Fair trade. If I ask for a person next time, maybe then they'd give me the shoes. Haha.

*okay, I'm really having a hard time being cheesy here. really.*

Anyway, my father's just arrived. He's been coming home quite late lately, but who's complaining?

Sigh. I missed blogging. :)