“Love is a teacher, but one must know how to acquire it, for it is difficult to acquire, it is dearly bought, by long work over a long time, for one ought to love not for a chance moment but for all time. Anyone, even a wicked man, can love by chance.”—Fyodor Dostoyevsky (The Brothers Karamazov)
Sometimes, I wonder why we met, why we became friends, why … we were so “inseparable.” The end was inevitable; everything foreseeable and we knew it. Instead of staying away from each other and that vexatious ardor, we only grew closer and more attached to each other. I somehow regret it all despite of the short-lived happiness; I am not bitter and you, are still a jughead. Maybe, someday when I am no longer reminiscing and missing you, I will be granted with that ability to smile at those memories. Maybe.
I stirred restlessly—lacking the vigor to wake up and start my day; it was around 10 and I heard Harrie and Neo chatting their mornings away. Neo acted like how an older brother would and Harrie giggled over and over in response. They sounded like they were bothering my mom who was tiding around upstairs. While hiding under my covers, I grabbed the iPhone and played with my Bakery Story. When I think about it that is all I really do for “fun.” Reading is fun too, of course! But I’ve put my leisurely reading on hold to finish my school reading. Right now, I am reading “Baghdad Burning” by Riverbend for my Women’s Studies class. The book is from Riverbend’s blog which she had started on August 2003. It was initially a “rantlog” but has become one of the best narratives on the experiences of a civilian who lived in Baghdad. It is written in English—I think that she also writes well! I took AP Government last year and we studied Iran for about a month—I remember how we talked about Iraq every once in a while… anyways, I am amazed at how the government or anyone with “power” can easily distort information, control the media—how they can conceal the truth and its facts, how the rest of the world can be fooled into thinking the nonsense they come up with. I don’t know … knowing that makes me feel so helpless. I think I have always known that but never really took it seriously? I’ll be honest, it’s only been two years since I started to take interest in the news earnestly. I used to feign interest but not anymore. I do wish that Riverbend was still blogging; her last post was written on October 2007. I read her last post and it seems like she’s in a much much safer place. She’s grown into me and I am very curious about her life now. “Baghdad Burning” only covers the first year of her blog and although I am only halfway through the book, I’m already so eager to read the rest of her posts online.
Overall, today was a very tired day. It wasn’t tiring; everyone was just tired. I was, at least and everyone else wasn’t exactly full of energy. It was one of those days were the main event was resting, ha ha. We did not do much except for the usual lounging around and watching television. My parents went to Costco to buy the week’s groceries while the kids and I stayed upstairs, waiting for Ana to finish showering. We watched a lot of movies yesterday night—with one of them being “Shutter.” Ana is still scared from those movies… I still, honestly, do not know why I bother watching horror movies when all I do is hide under the blankets—and when that blanket is taken away from me (thanks, Anderson… -0-!!!), I would either shut my eyes and sing in my thoughts or sometimes, I would intensely push my arm to my face to cover my eyes. I saw some scary parts… at least, enough to scare me in the middle of the night. I baked brownies with almonds yesterday night although I forgot to add the chocolate chips. :( It tasted somewhat bitter to me although everyone else seemed to like it. Today, I baked chocolate chips cookies with one batch being very square and another being burned…
I watched Anderson play Black Ops as usual and after two hours or so, we started watching some movies on Netflix. Actually, we did not watch any movies… We started a couple and I would change it after five minutes lol … I left him to watch King Corn though, a movie that I recommend by the way!!! I watched it at AP Environmental Science last year! It was verrrry interesting.
Nooow, back to my reading! I don’t have to finish the book by class on Tuesday but I’m already half-way through and I don’t want to worry about it later on … especially since I have a lot of work due this week!
“Become a possibilitarian. No matter how dark things seem to be or actually are, raise your sights and see possibilities — always see them, for they’re always there.”—Norman Vincent Peale (via julie911)
It was one of those things that I fear about on a daily basis but never really expect to become a reality. I guess I assumed that if I were an attentive and careful driver, others will be too.
My Abnormal Psychology ended seventy-five minutes early because Prof. S was having technical difficulties. I lingered around the library, looking for poets that were similar to Ashbery (♥), but ultimately decided to come home to eat and play with Harrie. Everything was fine, I expected everything to be. Today was supposed to be just another normal day, with normal things happening such as my Dad returning home from a week’s stay at Kenai for work, with me playing the iPhone for Bakery Story, with me making chocolate chip cookies for the little kids, and so on. Everything was supposed to be normal. Nothing unusual was expected or anticipated—because honestly, my life is very normal and quite lacking in eventfulness.
While I was at Lake Otis & Tudor’s intersection, the car in front of me turned and went, while I slightly moved up to get a better view of the incoming cars from my left side… and suddenly, I felt my car being hit. Thank goodness the impact was not as extensive as movies usually depict it to be—my car barely moved forward but I was still scared that incoming cars were going to hit me! I turned around and gave a glance at the driver behind me; he lifted his hand as if to say sorry. My heart began to beat faster and faster. In actuality, I was somewhat surprised that I did not burst out in screeches and curse words. I have always imagined myself to react that way—immature, frantic, and loud. But instead, I was calm, quiet, thinking properly yet still very distressed. The lights turned green and I turned, my thoughts racing with things like, “What do I do now? I need to call Mom as soon as possible—but what about this guy? What if he drives away? Oh no! I can’t see his license plate. What kind of car is he driving? It’s red. And not new. Actually, maybe it’s older than me? Oh, I don’t know.” I took deep breaths, trying to be in a tranquil composure of mind. I knew, at least, that I needed to stop somewhere, and so I did, at where the Bus stops. He, thankfully, did so and got out of the car. I grabbed my phone—forgetting to grope for my keys. I was oddly determined to call my mom. That was that—as if it was an innate passion. I dialed my mom’s number. Every second, each time the phone rang, I felt my heart race. I was tearing up and the man who was in his late 50s, asked if I was calling the police. My heart thumped even harder at this point. The police. I softly said no and that I was calling my mom right now. He replied that he will call the police then and I nodded. Why did I even nod at that time? My mom answered her phone and I told her that I got into a car accident, with her first response being a yelling “WHAT?!!” I expected that, at least but as each second passed by, I felt myself getting heavier, my eyes duller, and my inner composure more frenzied. The man explained to the phone that he was at fault for not paying attention, that we both seemed alright with no intensive-injuries, that my car was so on and so on, and that his car was so on and so on, etc etc etc. I explained to my mom that I was at Lake Otis, near Dr. Murphy’s office, near the Golden Donut, near the Pizza Hut and the outlet stores, that the man was at fault, and that my bumper looks like it was about to fall off—-she told me that she will come as soon as possible. The man told me that the police will come and that we should go park at the outlet stores to not cause traffic. I quickly got into my car and went first, with that same anxious thought and hope that the man will too. Thank goodness that he was nice and wasn’t like those who denied what happened… When I parked, he got out of his car and he told me again that it was his fault. After that, we both returned to the comfort of our car’s warm interior.
It was 11:52 at that time.
Where my mind was during that time, I really am not sure. Maybe, it was everywhere—it probably was. I could not think of anything decent or optimistic. I was sure that my Dad was going to get so mad at me for getting into a car accident. I was so scared. Even now, I’m still scared… I thought of what was going to happen, how the police scenario will be, what my parents will think of me, how they will react, how I will react when I have to face them—do I burst out crying because I am feeling sad about the whole accident? Should I get a part-time job to pay for the damages? As a just in case? What about my upcoming gifts? Will I not be shopping in the future? Will my parents disown me? What about my insurance? I need a part-time job more now… a lot went through me, I suppose. I was very sad, even when I was making a guess about who will arrive first—my mom or the police? I was shaking and quiet. I tried to calm my nerves by drinking water. When I took a sip, I continued to stare off into the distance. I didn’t do anything but sit, shiver, and think.
I then realized that the car next to me, with two ladies was motioning me to open the door. I was wondering why I would need to but I did so anyways because they looked friendly? That was not a very smart thing to do but I did so anyways. I slightly, opened my car’s door and the lady said: “Are you alright? Did you get into a car accident?” I nodded and gave a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m alright. That man,” I said with a quick glance to the car’s direction, “uhm. He bumped into my car.” The two wished me luck and waved nicely to me. I kind of felt good because of that… my mom soon arrived and the driver came out of his car. They introduced each other and we started waiting for the police again. The wait lasted for 30 minutes and within those 30 minutes, I told my mom about 5% of what was going through my thoughts. She calmed and reassured me—and that time, I was thinking about how mothers usually do calm their offsprings. They reassure them and tell them that they will be alright and are not at fault. I was glad that I have the relationship I have with my mother. My mom told my dad, who was driving at Whittier, and he was like, “What?!” And after a quick conversation and of retelling him what had happened, she reassured me again. She told me that, as it wasn’t my fault, he won’t get mad. I took deep breaths again and continued being quiet. When the police did arrive… it was already some minutes after 1. He took our licenses, insurance policies, and car registrations after the man explained what had happened. He looked at me and asked for a confirmation. I said, yeah. The policeman took pictures of both of the vehicles and then told us that we should go inside the car. We all went inside the car, waiting for the policeman to finish whatever he was doing. That wait lasted for 15 minutes and after explaining what we needed to do, my dad arrived with his co-worker friend in a truck. After exchanging information with the driver, my parents and I decided to go to StateFarm for further instructions. But before that, I told my dad that I was sorry… and he told me that it was alright because I wasn’t at fault. He drove my car and I to StateFarm, while calling my mother a slow driver. Hehe. He gave me more tips about driving and the StateFarm told us that we will need to call Geico (the driver’s insurance company). Anyways, I talked to a Geico representative and had to explain what had happened… after that… was a lot of frustration because of their medical advisor. -_- All I know now is that Geico is an avaricious and selfish company. It may be “procedure” and crap, but there is no way in hell that I will give your frakking company my SSID. I told them that this conversation was no longer necessary and that I will talk to my lawyer instead—because I am cooo like that. :D
Sometime this week, I will need to see a chiropractor… because I remember from Mr. Wheeles’ AP GOV. class of last year that he had a similar accident and despite of feeling “fine and alright” on the day of the accident, he advised us, all students to see a chiropractor anyways…
“There will be many other nights like this,
And I’ll be standing here with someone new.
There will be other songs to sing,
Another fall… another spring…
But there will never be another you.”—"There Will Never Be Another You"