The One about The Night

November 25, 2006
Room 1016, 2nd bedroom
Discovery Suites, Ortigas Center, Pasig
9:13 pm

"Come on! Tell us what happened Mishie!"
"Walang ganyanan!"
"Did you tell him?"
"What did you say!"
"Tell us!"
"Please!"
"We wanna know!"
"Did you go for the gold?"
"Mishie!"
"Sige na!"

And the voices muffle because they all blend and clash at the same time, creating noise. And I, on my part, am sitting at the side of the bed, not necessarily on it. I've already fallen off of it. I sit leaning on the wall, every now and then tossing the curtain in front of me to block out their stares and quiries.

These noise-makers are my friends. And I am who they are interoggating.

Jean and Chris sit are on the edge of the bed, eyeing me suspiciously while my cousin Kathleen sits beside me on the floor. The rest are scattered, but all eyeing me in the exact same way. They are curious for answers, and hungry for gossip. Who'd ever think that the gossip they'd be craving for would be about, of all people, me.

I, of course, would have my reasons for not telling them all or at all. What happened was too new, too fresh, too dream-like to imagine actually happening in reality. It was all a blur and part of me was thinking that, at that very moment, I was just hallucinating.

"Mishie! Tell us what you told him!"

No. I couldn't have been hallucinating. Why else would they be badgering me about it, if it hadn't happened?


November 25, 2006
The Podium
Ortigas Center, Pasig
8:46pm

It's now or never, Michelle. What's it going to be?

"Magsi-CR lang kami ah!"

And in less than 5 seconds, they are all out of sight. He and I are left outside.

"San ba nakakakuha ng taxi dito?" he starts.
"Um.. hindi ko alam eh. Kung gusto mo samahan kita sa baba, tulungan kitang maghanap."

Shit, Michelle, are you really going to do it or what?

"Um, hindi na. Sabayan ko nalang kayo pag lumabas na kayo."

It's a sign. I guess it's go time.

"Uh, dun tayo." I point to no where in particular, but away from the CR. There was a camera taking a picture of us. Chelsea's phone. How "discreet", cuz. Real nice.

"Um," I begin. I could still turn back. "remember that guy na sabi ko sayo na gusto ko?"

I can still lie. Should I still lie? But, this is my only chance. Should I take it? When else would I say it? What lie should I make up? Do I continue? Brain? Please respond.

"Yeah. Yung nakilala mo sa LaSalle?"

Brain? Hello! Are you there? Speak up? What's going on?

"I told you I didn't meet him in LaSalle."

Houston, we have a problem.

"Eh. Yun ang natatandaan ko eh. Bakit?"

"Um.."

Say it? Not say it? BRAIN! It's gone. I've lost the connection. I'm hyperventilating mentally. How is that possible though? Hyperventilation doesn't occur in the brain, and even if it did, I don't have a brain right now.

I'm running on batteries now... my heart.. Damn, should I listen to my heart?

"Well, diba sabi ko sayo na... no, wait.. sabi..ko.. sayo... no, YOU said that..."

Pucha. I'm gonna kill my brain for this. My heart can't speak that well, you know. What a great time to take a vacation. Now I'm brain-dead and I don't know how to talk. Wonderful.

Just spit it out, Michelle. You can do it...

"Diba sabi mo na pakilala ko siya sayo?" There. I said the thought. I could still lie. I haven't told him yet.

"Oo." he's looking at me. Is he looking at me? I really can't tell. My eyes are getting blurred. Panicking, panicking, panicking. Red alert. Brain, you can still save me and I'd forgive you.

My hand is reaching for his shoulder. Quickly. So quickly, its already there before I can respond. Hoho. Am I on autopilot?

"Um," HOLY SHIT. "Tingin ka dun, o."

My right hand raises and points at the post where our thin, but still clear refections are. I didn't see his reaction on the mirror. I saw it on his actual face. I turned to him quickly. I wanted to see it.

There. I said it. Damn you Brain.

"Whatever!" he says, smiling. Smiling? Is he supposed to smile? I didn't rehearse this. Did I rehearse this? DAMMIT, BRAIN!

"I'm serious!" I heard myself say. I could have still lied, but no. I guess I can't anymore.

"Weh." he says.

...and then we stared at each other.

It seemed like everything was in fast forward and pause at the same time. In that very moment, I could feel that he and I were connected somehow. He was looking at me with an expression I can't define. His eyes were questioning and confused while he was smiling. He even laughed a bit. What about HIS brain? Was it talking to him then??? Hey, is MY brain over there? I want it back please, thanks.

"Kaya mo ba ako tinanong dati pano kung ako sinabihan?" he suddenly says, breaking the floating moment.

"Yes." I reply, way too fast then I add, "And that's why all of them were noisy kanina... they knew I was gonna say something today."

"So that surprise they were talking about wasn't real?" he asks.

"I guess not."

"So AKO ang nasurprise?" he starts laughing. I laugh too. That was a yes.

My peripheral vision catches a glimpse of my cousins and friends coming out of the CR, if they even really went to the CR. My foot twitched. It's telling me to go over there already.

His lips moved. I raise a hand to him.

"You don't have to say anything," I say. "I'm just happy I told you."

I was. I really was. I was just way to stunned at my boldness. Dammit, Michelle. You and your boldness.

And we walk. Slowly. Very slowly. Have we been put in slow-mo?

"I really don't what to say." he says. I repeat that he didn't have to say anything. Nothing at all.

"Eeh." he mutters. And he is looking at both me and the floor. How is he doing that?

"Um, I don't know. But I really admire your courage." Courage? No, not really. I was mentally hyperventilating--however the hell I did that. "Di ko kaya gawin yun, kung ako."

We then reach my cousins and friends. We reached them despite the slow motion. He grabs my arm. I feel numb.

"Wait. Since kelan pa?"

I smile. Did I smile? I don't remember. "Since third year."

I don't remember what he said. I didn't catch what he says after that tiny revelation. Was it tiny? Maybe not. Third year was a long time ago. My head is reeling. We all get on the escalator, ahead of my cousins and friends. I sort of forget that my dad and brother are there.

"Akala ko ba si *Lead* ?" he asks.

"Well, he was just a crush. And besides, after he told her that he liked her, it went away. It was a long time ago." I say...I'm quiet for a while.

"I wasn't planning to tell you, you know." I reveal. Hell? What the hell did you say that to him for, Michelle? Keep quiet.

"O? Edi bakit mo sinabi?" Did he want me not to tell? Well, he didn't have a choice, did he?

"Eh, nadidistract ako eh." I say. It was true, but did he really have to know that? I ask you that.
"I'm sorry." he says, laughing, "I didn't know!"

"Of course you didn't know." I say, "and that's nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault!"

And we walk out of the Podium, and I start looking at the streets for a taxi. Do I want him to go? I'm not sure. I don't want him to go. But hell, I'm way too embarrassed to make him stay any longer. "So, you're going na?"

"Maybe. San ba ang taxi?" he looks around. Then looks back at me. "Don't worry. I promise nothing will change. Talagang I don't know what to say lang. And besides, I'm not that kind of guy naman." He smiles. That I remember clearly.

We all cross the street back to the hotel and I tell him to ask the guard to grab him a taxi.

"I'm sorry." I say to him. We're still ahead of all of them. "That it turned out this way."

"No." he says. "I'm sorry I can't stay."

"That's fine. At least you came. I didn't even think you'd come." I smile and he smiles back. We're in the middle of the street.

"So," I say, getting to the other side of the street, "Let's ask the guard if he can call a taxi for you."

And we did...

...and then we waved goodbye. Then I turned, but not before he smiled at me. We all went back up to the hotel. Silently. My dad was there.

When we finally got back to the hotel and into one of the bedrooms...

"Come on! Tell us what happened Mishie!"
"Walang ganyanan!"
"Did you tell him?"
"What did you say!"
"Tell us!"
"Please!"
"We wanna know!"
"Did you go for the gold?"
"Mishie!"
"Sige na!"

And the voices muffle because they all blend and clash at the same time, creating noise. And I, on my part, am sitting at the side of the bed, not necessarily on it. I've already fallen off of it. I sit leaning on the wall, every now and then tossing the curtain in front of me to block out their stares and quiries.

These noise-makers are my friends. And I am who they are interoggating.

Jean and Chris sit are on the edge of the bed, eyeing me suspiciously while my cousin Kathleen sits beside me on the floor. The rest are scattered, but all eyeing me in the exact same way. They are curious for answers, and hungry for gossip. Who'd ever think that the gossip they'd be craving for would be about, of all people, me.

I, of course, would have my reasons for not telling them all or at all. What happened was too new, too fresh, too dream-like to imagine actually happening in reality. It was all a blur and part of me was thinking that, at that very moment, I was just hallucinating.

"Mishie! Tell us what you told him!"

No. I couldn't have been hallucinating. Why else would they be badgering me about it, if it hadn't happened?



But as, now, you and I both know, it did. It did happen.

The Monday after that weekend, he and I saw each other. And, if it was possible, it was the first time he saw me first and the first time he called me Mishie. So I know...

it was all good.

Now, that revelation is what I refer to as "it" with people who ask about "it". November 25, to me, I just call it "The Night". And to him and I--yes, we have talked after that and I am HELL pretty thankful refer to it as "yung nangyari".

It only goes to show that it really DID happen. It happened and he ISN'T like other guys. I knew that... it was why I told him in the beginning. I still feel though that something did change. I'm not sure what... but heck, regardless, I'm still happy.

Heh. This is precisely why he's called Happiness. :)

The One Saying "What Did You Just Call Me?"

If you call me Michelle then you're one of my friends, teachers or acquaintances from CSA

If you call me Mishie then you're probably one of 4A, my blockmates or friends from DLS.

If you call me Mitch, Mitchie, Marge, Micah and Raisa, then you're most DEFINITELY my bestesterest friend, Jeannie.

If you call me Michi, Mitcheh and Huuuug Meh then for sure you're Micah.

If you call me Chelle, Mishie, Celes, Ei, Y and Beastie then you're my beastie, Chris.

If you call me Meeshee and Mishie then you're Raisa, Jayme and Meo.

If you call me Huh? Oh, hi Michelle! then you're Erdex.

If you call me Hey Cuz or Mich then you must be my cousins Ka, Guel, Chel, Pao and Dave.

If you call me Ate, Si Ateyoh, Noooo and Poopie then you must be my one and only weirderesterest brother, Anton

If you call me Ate Michelle then you're my littler cousins Lizzie, Migs, Mike, Sam, Max and William.

If you call me Poochi or Pachopoy then you're my uber lovable Dad.

If you call me Michelle Andrea, Sweetie, Honey, Celestina and Sweetheart you're my superdiduper prettiful Mummy.

If you call me Misyel then you're one of my relatives in the province

If you call me Pillows then you're definitely Sue-y.

If you call me Shii~ then you're the one and only Kringle.

If you call me Luv then you're my sexxeh friend Marge.

If you call me Michelle on normal days and Michelle Andrea Loanzon Del Rosario when you're far away, in a hurry, mad and on abnormal days then you must be my weirderest guy friend Emmanuel Nikole Gamboa De Vera

If you call me Guding and Michie then you just HAVE to be my supersupersupregadooper bestest and forever best friend, Raissa.

If you call me Mish and Ano Nga Ba Pangalan Nito then you must be Raech and Phoebe.

If you call me Celestina and Celestina-Underscore-Warlock then you must be Justin and Nikki.

If you call me Mitsuki then you're Kei.

If you call me Mihshell and My Royal Friend then you must be Rashmi

If you call me Caterer then you're a member of the A.G.A.

If you call me Mimi then you're Lui who I call Lulu.

If you call me Angel, Omg Mishie and Rupert So Hot then you're my fellow Rupert Grint worshipper, Kat.

If you call me Mish then you're my Ate Kathy.

If you call me Hey Mich then you're my first year algebra teacher to whom I never gave permission to call me that.

If you call me Baby then you're my mommy Tricia.

If you call me Dirty Black and Ang Sama Mo Talaga, you must be Bianca.

If you call me Hay Nako Michelle then you're me talking to myself when I'm alone.

If you call me Where is Michelle then you're one of my profs who can't find me in the seatplan.

If you call me Chelle, then you're one of my yayas at home.

If you call me Nyayayayayan-Oh then you're my yaya's son Lawrence who has never ever said my real name.

If you call me Healthy Baby then you're my Dance Prof that I would just love to claw the face of or my dad who won't stop teasing me about it.

I never realized I had so many names. hahaha.

The One with the Super Strict Dance Class

September 13, 2006
9:34 pm

It was another 4:45 am wake up for me this morning. My seven o'clock class would start in a few hours. There was a hole in my PE shirt so at 5:30, I had to have it stitched by my helper so I would have something to wear to the first PE class of the semester.

It was like preparing for war. I had heard of this teacher for a while now and, it seemed, he was an enemy to eye and keep in radar. His name?

Yes, we were told to remember it: Professor Martin C. Ronda.

Every step I took brought be closer to my block's first encounter with him, but first there was Polisci. Polisci found me standing, called my Prof. Jet and being asked who my favorite politician is. The hell, I didn't know any who wasn't either already dead or in jail, so, I said GMA. When asked why, I told him, well that she was the only one I knew. Politics is dumb to me, and I think it always will be. I accept it as something that affects millions of Filipinos around the world and the decisions made my the leaders have been so poor thus far. No matter how good the intention of Politics starts off to be, it will never be clean in my eyes. Everywhere, this is causing such chaos in countries all over the world. I'm not sure whether I want parliamentary or democracy. They'd be chaotic either way. Is there even a real contest? I will never step foot into politics. This class and IntGlos is as far as I go in the sphere of Politics.

Next, there was Tredone. This class is, so far, the tamest of the bunch. I was neither awake nor asleep in this class and I was able to follow through with the discussion pretty well. We talked about a guy named Viktor Frankl who was a victim of the Concentration Camps during the world war, the time when Hitler's mark grew and grew. Our prof had said that our class was the first to take down notes from this article he had had us read, flashed up on the OHP. There were lines that I took note of: one of them is my status at the moment. Here they are:

"He who has a why to live for, can bear with almost any how."

"I called to the Lord from my narrown prison and he answered me in the freedom of space."

"What counts in suffering is not the suffering, but on'e attitude towards it."

"The goal of human existence is not self-actualization, but self-transcendence--over-coming and surpassing one's self. "

The quotes are pretty self-explanitory. They stand well out on their own. I'll try to find time to take them all on one by one next time--my interpretations of them anyway.

Englres was next on the agenda and, quite frankly, I wanted to sleep in it. We took only a fraction of our time, but I still got super bored. She talked about blah, blah, blah, research, blah.

Then, U-break came and I spent it with Chris, Raisa, Micah and Raisa's two blockmates (Louie--sp? and Diana). It was fun. I did miss them, its true. There are just some jokes that aren't "decent" enough to crack in front of the blockmates. There are just things that only Ad Libitum understands. Ad Libitum, indeed.

Then it was war time. I came at 2:0--something. I was the sixth one to get into class and I had been warned to do the following things:

1. be at least 30 minutes early (but he prefers 1 hour or more)
2. take off my jewelries (even my watch)
3. place my belongings in the right side of the room in an orderly fashion
4. not to make erasures in the yellow pad attendance paper (which I did in my ID number, so I just doctored the two 7's that I accidentally placed into a 2 and 6)
5. sit up straight (I was in "'sion" the entire time)
6. I had a starch white tissue paper in my back pocket (stolen from McDo that I used to cough with a bunch of times. I was aware of it too) and
7. not to stand when asked if we had taken up ballroom dancing in High School (which I still stood up in. I couldn't lie. I just couldn't.)

I conclude: I would probably fail a lie detector test even if usually, all the questions just require yes or no questions hahaaha.

Professor Martin C. Ronda. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
There are just no words... oh, oh yes there are: Super Strict.

Yes. Not very, very, really, really, or super. It's SUPER.

It's being in ACP all over again, with an even stricter officer. We were asked what we had heard of him. I stood and said all in the list I had just mentioned. He said that every single one in the list was aboslutely true and more. Eghad. This second term's PE was a toughie--to say the very, very , very least. I don't know if I'll get a 4.0 in PE like last term, but at least I got a feel of a 4.0 in PE for a little while. I'm happy with that. Goodbye, 4.0 in PE, till we meet again in, hopefully, Badminton. Hurrah.

The day was so very great. Oh, wait, no. Very? No. It's just SUPER.


P.S. I meant that both lsincerely and sarcastically for different parts of my day.

The One with the Nutty Professor

September 12, 2006
7:14pm

Actually, our professor wasn't so much "nutty" as he was...bitchy. Trully, the only term for it. I still cannot believe that I went to school so early in the morning (at 8am to be exact) just to wait three and a half hours to listen to him and simply to see him. That was a bad blow to my confidence that I'd like this term better.

To be honest, he even looked like someone I knew. I couldn't put a finger on it really, but he did. Sadly, the personality did not seem to match its shell. Sure, perhaps he wasn't so bitchy bordering to become the new teacher our block would hate this term, but I think the position has to be filled.

I would so love it if we didn't have to have a teacher to fill in that most unwanted seat, but someone has to do it. So I guess, so far, it would have to be him. Unless Mr. FWDANCE Ronda can top him. We'll know tomorrow.

But on a lighter note, I got to bring out something from my chest today. Because of my boredom in the conservatory, I managed to study for tomorrow's reading and I was able to write a letter. I had debated whether or not to give the letter to its addressee but I felt that if I did not give it to him, I would never do it again. I felt strongly about getting the record straight. I wanted to settle the uneasiness I felt within me. Finally I was able to tell him. It wasn't face to face as I would have prefered it to be, but I think that I would rather give him a letter of my complete feelings rather than senseless words that circled around and contradicted themselves. At least, this way, I would be able to organize my thoughts, with out feeling the pressure of someone listening to me. As I wrote, I felt it all just flow into my fingers, into the pen and onto the paper. All the things I've been meaning to say. I told Chris I was sorry for drifting apart from them, but I also told him that I didn't regret it. I believe that I really accomplished something big for myself, and I am really proud of myself.

However, I'd rather not say this, but I still have my doubts. The truth is, despite my confidence that I've come passed the issue, there is no concrete assurance that it will stay that way. The thing I fear the most when it comes to this, is that I will one day suddenly just fall and find myself right where I started. I would really rather not fall into that death trap again. But I fear not--or at least I try my best to be courageous.

I am fighting now, not for love, but for friendship.

When I was a child, I remember not having any friends at all. I remember doing almost anything to make myself believe I had any. When I was nine I made up an imaginary friend that would do anything with me. I can only remember one instance then, but I remember it nontheless. At ten, I gave in to bullying a girl I knew just so I would "fit in" with a group. When I turned eleven, I found friends that got tired of each other and soon drifted apart. But then again, that was also the year I found my true friends. My friends for the longest time: Raissa and Micah. I am so very glad that until now, even if Raissa is miles away and Micah and I are in college, we still talk every once in a while and still know where each one is. Since the time I've met them, I've only gained more friends and closer companions to treasure for my entire lifetime (and beyond if I could).

If I allowed myself to lose a friend or two now, who knows how long it will be until I ended up to be that sad little girl again who didn't have any friends at all. I'd be crushed if that happened and I would have no one else to blame but myself for not fighting to keep these friendships.

I know that if I hadn't done what I did, I would have probably hurt myself and two others. It is better that things turned out the way they did. Now I suppose, we're in a healing process, patching up the wounds and getting back up to continue walking.

I felt good.

Regardless of how boring and frustrating this day was, I did one thing that made be feel absolutely good.

And no one can take that away from me.

The One with the Start of the Second Term

September 11, 2006
7:52pm

Celebrating the 5th Anniversary of the 9/11 WTC attack.

Today at 4:45am, my alarm clock sprang to life and so did, unfortunately, my day.

I've always been feeling half and half about the start of another term, the continuation of even more studying. To be quite honest, I can't imagine just how I came to this point in my life where I am already in college. Call me the person who gets the mondo late reactions, but it's kind of freaking me out here. I've always been the type to always keep imagining myself as a high school student. The high school student who would eternally listen to her older college cousins talk about just that (college, I mean) and talk about subjects that I never, in my life, would ever be caught dead studying in high school. I always thought that I would forever be talking to my cousins who were my age about the crappiness of Noli Me Tangere or the torture of Geometry and the dreadful pain of Chemistry. These were things that I never imagined straying from, no matter how much I hated them. Those subjects, thoughts and events that I thought I would never part with, and yet here I am, almost about a year or so later, not even being able to meet up with my cousins because our parents don't seem to be putting much effort on getting together, choosing what combination and what outfit to wear every single day (double checking if I've already worn the exact same thing once before), killing myself to remember what room I've supposed to be in at this exact time, trying to remember what section I am in a certain subject (A-something, something), hopping aboard metal tubes that zoom and can't even keep its balance, riding in smoggy old scrap metal vehicles that don't even correct you if you pay for a regular fee and not a student's fee and waking up in the morning to the sound of that oh, so beautiful wake up call that just makes you want to pound on something hard.

But, whatever. The point is, I woke up at 4:45am today. Haha. Why? Because I have a 7 o' clock class, dammit. And why did I have a 7 o' clock class? Well, it's because it's the start of sem-two of year one of five years. I hope you got that. Even if during the first term, I thought it went by like zip. Nuh-uh. This day was just pure, "But I don't want to go to school" Syndrome. It's amazing since never in my life have I wanted to not go to school. Ever. More than I do now. It's not so much that the subjects are crappy, the professors are boring and the block is bleh. No, not at all. In fact, my subjects, professors (so far), and especially my block are totally cool. I am just lazy.

I. Am. Lazy. Period. Dot. End.

That's the reason I got cranky all day. I don't know why the hell I feel so lazy and can't wait to go home when during the break, I couldn't wait to just get out of the house. It just goes to show just how uncontent human beings are in this world. I am no exemption and I admit that I am not easily contented--if I have ever been, anyway.

No worries though. Unlike I was before, I now have simple joys that take my day up and up and high and high. They're really simple and I'm really glad that I now have them. Unfortunately, with the exemption of this lovely "First Day High" (note: sarcasm), little things have a tendency to just tick me off. Luckily, I kept most of that to myself. Haha. I'm patting myself in the back right now...it's hard though. Anyway, simple joys; back to simple joys. These little things have kept me going in this strange time of adjustment. I suppose now its another replay of that--like a recurring dream that changes place or people, but not the event. You know? I guess that, despite all the laziness, procrastination and bitterness about going to school again (university, Mishie. Not school, university. Haha. Whatever), it is still another chance of renewal. After looking at myself, analyzing my first term. I still think I could have done better. It is true, that while I did make large changes and steps in my academic and personal life, I still have, and there always is, room for improvement.

I'm taking that room. And I'm making it mine.

This second term? Hah. Watch out. Right after I'm done with my denial phase (I still think it's vacation), I'll be back on my feet and ready to punch that semester in the face. I'm coming back.

With a vengence.

The One with My New Layout

September 09, 2006
8:34pm

It is now clearly evident that I have been watching too much of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. for me to be templating almost everything in the theme. Actually, I have been planning this change for much too long now and it was only during this last few days of the break that I was finallly able to tear myself away from the television screen to do so. I figured that after this semestral break is over, I will once again be the epitome of endless procrastination--still quite evident even during my vacation (seeing as I waited once again for the last part of the break to "come up" with time to make all these changes)--when school rolls around once more this Monday.

How long have I been thinking of these changes? For a long time now, actually, and it didn't just start when I began watching countless episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. A few years ago, I actually considered my life to be somewhat parallel to a Soap Opera. You know the type: emotional, dramatic and full of crap. It's true that while Soap Operas are dramatic (and was my life back then) I considered my life coinciding with the dramas portayed in noontime television. But then, as I look back on it now, my life was quite different from that which I once thought it to be. The truth is, ever since I was very, very young about eight or so, I recall sitting at home every Wednesday night in front of the television with my mom. She'd turn the channel to ABC5 and would wait until nine o' clock came. Then from the speakers of the TV, I'd here the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. theme and, although I was young at the time, still understood the language and the humor that the sitcom presented. This never left me. Growing up, I watched episodes of it. Not completely but I cherished those times that I watched it all the same. My mom and I would watch Will and Grace as well just proving all the more that I grew up in sitcoms rather than the Soap Operas I claimed my life to be like.

Now that I am older and have gone through High School, I look back on it all now and think that, even if my High School life was full of dramatics worthy of Oscar nominations, my life was still, pretty much enjoyable, and all those fun moments, exactly like the ones you find in sitcoms. Most people know that, regardless of it being called as Situation Comedies, sitcoms still do have their dramatic side. It is very much like the serious tones of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. like when Ross and Rachel would fight very, very dramatically (which made me recall all my own personal battles with someone else). What makes it fall under comedy, I suppose, is the fact that, regardless of their situation, they can still laugh about it. That was the magic that the group provided. There were different personalities that were mixed in the show and each of them brought their own little piece of laughter into the whole batter which made the entire series successful in bringing laughs to countless numbers of people.

I, personally, have a hard time laughing in a very serious situation, especially when I am engrossed and absorbed in it. I find no humor at all. It is only when the situation is subsiding or lifting a bit that I can look back and laugh at myself. That's what makes me so thankful that I have friends that actually match with some of the characters from the series. I suppose my friends aren't as witty or naturally as funny as the characters on the show (no offense, guys); I mean, my friends know when the appropriate time for humor is and when it is alright to inject humor in a certain situation. But then, as I think of it, perhaps that's what makes the lives of Ross, Monica, Rachel, Chandler, Phoebe and Joey so darn interesting. There's laughter in almost everything. Sure, it probably doesn't happen that naturally in real life, but it is possible to be. In fact, watching the series straight for the past few days is making me realize that humor is something that I should probably try out more often whether or not the people around me are familiar with F.R.I.E.N.D.S. The way I see it, people love a good laugh--especially when they're feeling down. They could use a bit of cheering up. I think that, if I can be good enough to adapt some of those traits from each character (without seeming like too much of a wacko) I can find a way to bring a little bit of laughter back into people's lives.

Another reason why I now compare my life to a sitcom is, well, that I have absorbed part of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. already. At least, around the house. My brother and I watch a lot of the show and the humor is totally rubbing off on us. We have quips that make us feel like we're in the show. I even feel a lot lighter and happier since watching it. Laughter is the best medicine. Up until recently, I was still pretty doubtful and bummed about a bunch of things that have been happening but now, my worries are totally gone. Isn't that just dandy?

Well, I've gone from what should have been a simple explanation to a whole narration of the story to why I picked this layout. But now I'm done. Here it is.

My life is a sitcom.