All right, I'll be the first one to admit:

I have a bit of a shopping problem.

And when I say "a bit", I mean a lot.

I tried denying it for a while. I tried justifying my purchases. ("I do have to buy these apricot t-strap heels. It's one of the building blocks of my closet system. It's an investment piece, really.") I tried saying that I'm buying super early Christmas gifts. I tried telling myself that a nuclear apocalypse was inevitable and that I had to get those polka dotted bow clips or I will never see them again.

But when I saw how my humble cabinet is practically groaning at how much crap I've shoved into it, well, I realized that an intervention must take place. And because I've been such an expert at evading my mom's skeptical looks about the new clothes I've been wearing (I tell her they're just from thrift stores and that I've had them for forever--lies), I don't think anyone else can help me on this but myself. I'd ask my friends, but they're just as hopeless as I am. Birds of the same feather and all.

The most inconvenient bit is that there is never the perfect time to realize that one has a shopping problem. Before December: Christmas season. After December: post-Christmas sales and my birthday. Summer: What the fuck else is there for you to do but go to the mall? School: How the hell else are you going to get through those miserable school days if you can't buy yourself a little something to get by?

So there. You see my problem. I CAN NEVER STOP. It's always gonna be there. Even when I've sworn off shopping, even when I am physically sickened at the idea of a store, I still find something to buy. I swear to god, I think I can sniff out something buyable in aTurkish prison. It's terrible. Absolutely terrible.

But getting rid of an addiction is never convenient, right? So like a coke whore, I'm gonna start very soon. I'm gonna think twice, thrice, ten bajillion times before I buy something. Just because I can afford it or it makes my butt look good, I won't buy it. (Oh god, the thought is giving me hives) I've been thinking of doing one entire month of no shopping, but you see, the problem with that is its sheer impossibility. HOW CAN YOU DO THAT? You just can't!

I know. I sound totally ridiculous, but that's how things are.

Ugh. What is the point of this entry? Basically just that I have major issues, and replacing self-actualization with retail consumption does nothing to help me mature as a human being. Carl Jung would be very, very disappointed. Sorry, Carl Jung.

There is much to be thankful for: My 2011 end-entry

I've never had the right to say that any year has been my year, because no year has ever really been my year. Or maybe I've just always been perpetually blessed that to say that one year was better than the others would be a lie.

But 2011? I don't know. I really think it was my year. Life didn't happen to me this year. I'd like to believe that I happened to life. And I happened pretty well, if I do say so myself.

First foremost, I'm very happy that while my family has had its share of drama and trials this year, everyone is safe and healthy. I did have that brief stint in rehab for my back, but that wasn't exactly a bad thing because I met that cute physical therapist who massaged my back and has magic hands. Mmm magical hands.

My friend situation wasn't so bad, too. I have always wanted my high school and college friends to meet and be friends, and I think I managed to do just that! We've hung out together and separately, and while we may not be able to see each other all the time, that's okay. This year has taught me that distance and time are just social constructs in relation to the strength of friendships.

(This year I also learned to use the term "social construct" to defend my poor choices. It makes me sound intelligent and idiotic at the same time. How very Marga.)

My academic life has been quite the telenovela, too. While I cried and ached over my shoddy Research Strategies grade, I lost sleep due to so many ridiculous requirements, and I literally vomited after studying for exams, it was all good in the end. My thesis got a solid 4.0, I breezed through Comparative Politics, and Amb. Del Rosario said that I would be "an asset to this country". That's exactly what a girl like me has always wanted to be, right? An ~asset~. Heh, I'm kidding. It was probably one of the most flattering things I've ever heard. Aside from that, I am about to become a published political scientist. I mean, wow. I'm kind of floored at the idea, but there you go.

Corollary to that, school has given be cause to travel! Aside from that bananas trip to Hong Kong with my wife Andrea, which has taught me that food is but a mere distraction in the quest for Good Bargains, and swimming with whale sharks in Sorsogon (!!!!! still freaking me out), I got to go to Indonesia for an environmental summit. And I went to Europe! I honestly didn't think this would happen to be at 20 years old. The best part, aside from the "I barely paid for anything aside from my ticket" and the opportunity to eat wonderful food is the fact that I got to meet people who are still my friends and still keep in touch. (Gosh, how terribly maudlin)

I'm also really glad that my writing kind of grew up this year. "Growing up" doesn't seem to be able to capture what I really mean, but you get the picture. I got published in the Star, and doing that profile on Ashley Gosiengfiao was nerve-wracking but utterly rewarding. I always get at least one comment about my columns in The Benildean, and I still don't get used to it. Aside from the compliments, I'm just happy that people read and learn something from the things I write. And as a journalist, that, I think, is what matters.

And onto more materialistic gratitude: I got a new laptop, I bought a phone by myself for the first time (okay, I'm cheating because one of the phones I traded in was something from my Globe plan...which my mother paid for), and a whole bunch of crap that I'm equally thankful to have.

Then, of course, there's you.

On a more philosophical note, I'm kind of overwhelmed by everything that's been going on lately. I know I complain and bitch a lot about why my life isn't wonderful or perfect or blah blah. I'm probably gonna complain a lot more in the future, if not just as much. But I don't think it means that I feel totally hopeless about it. I've learned a lot of things about myself; I've grown up. I've realized that I'm not as brave as I thought I was, not as tough nor as resilient. At the same time, I've become more independent and more assertive about certain aspects of my life. I've schooled myself into withstanding more pain and pressure, something I've never imagined I'd be capable of. There are still parts of me that I don't like, parts that I glorify, and parts I don't really care for.

This year, I've molded my political leanings, realizing what matters to me and what does not. I'm still not a feminist, I'm still a capitalist, I'm still a conservative. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I've been struggling with my beliefs for so long that knowing what I stand for and what I do not is such a relief. I guess the same goes for my faith. I know what I believe in, and as inconvenient it may be for people who have a sturdy set of values that is deeply rooted in traditional religious orientations, I honestly don't give a fuck. Believe what you want to believe in, and I will believe in what I want to believe in. It's all about love and acceptance, people.

I really had a wonderful year. It was such a perfect end note to the end of my childhood, me turning 21 and all. (Blech) I suppose the only way 2012 can top this year is if I get a boyfriend. Haha, I'm kidding. Kind of.

Passive-aggressive thoughts on education and meritocracy

Don't you dare call yourself an educator if you refuse to admit that you still stand to learn things from the people you are teaching to.

The pursuit of happiness

I was commissioned to do a short profile on musician/cosplayer Ashley Gosiengfiao, which is featured on this week's issue of Young Star. Check it out here.

It was a little daunting to write at first, because I tend to develop this irrational (?) anxiety whenever I write about people who I know will read my work. Do you ever get that? I think it's the reason why I can't seem to finish any attempt at writing a novel, something that I have been trying to do for about three years now. I write from what I know, from the people around me, and I don't like knowing that I've assassinated their characters by writing them from a horrible perspective.

I know, I know. Nobody's perfect. But who wants their glaring flaws to be published on paper?

Anyway, imagine my surprise when Ashley actually tweeted me this morning, saying that she loved it. And her Tumblr page attests to that. Basically, she said that she's really glad that someone wrote about her in a way that not a lot of people do or have. Whatever. I'm just really happy that not only did I write what I know, I wrote from a fresh perspective without being offensive or tactless.

She really is a badass, though. That much I could tell.

So many good things happening to me lately, despite my consistent fuck ups. (Oh, the irony.) Last Monday, I had lamenting via Twitter that most of the offices I called for potential internships--something that is required for students in my program--weren't accepting interns. And these were legit places that I actually wanted to go to. So I was left destitute; it had me worrying about what would happen to me next term.

Now, however, I have three offices asking me if I could intern for them. It is incredible how awesome the universe can be. My problem now is that one of them has been asking if I can start ASAP, which won't be possible because the hours I would be putting in will not be credited to the 500-hour requirement (300 for me, because I attended a conference abroad). This office in particular is kind of set on getting me already, and my spineless idiotic self didn't let them know that I was still on the fence about the matter. The lady who interviewed me didn't even ask me any questions! She basically told me what the work would entail and oh, was I available to work for her that very day?

I dunno. It seems a little sketchy, though. While it's nice to feel like someone needs your incredible talent (not), I left the interview feeling like she didn't really want me, she just needed someone to be her patsy. How do I say no, though? Not so easily. It's hard because one of my previous professors recommended me for the job. And I don't want to turn it down just because I feel like it won't live up to my ~potential~. Is there a way to say that without sounding like a complete douchebag?

So here I am, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Whatever that means.

A little bit of paradise on earth

Basically what I feel about France.

Jakarta in a thousand words

I went to Jakarta for a few days to attend a conference on environmental issues.

I am not an environmentalist, but I do have issues.

The view from our apartment

The food... was okay

The shopping wasn't bad. It took awhile before I got used to seeing t-shirts priced in the thousands (1 Indonesian Rupiah = 8000 USD or 180 Php)

And the people?

I love every single one of them. (That's me in the purple skirt. I think we were doing some sort of cheer. Or preparing to get ice cream to get thrown at us.)

Jakarta, take me back?

Life updates, in case I die

I feel so bad for not maintaining this blog, but it's not only recently that my annoying tendency to say yes to every single project that falls into my hands.

(I swear to god, if I could get this fixed by a doctor or a non-life threatening lobotomy, I would.)

I'm sincerely happy to have a day to myself, although technically isn't really one for relaxing because I have to spend it doing my academics and extra-curriculars, only at home. I also recently just got back from Jakarta, which was quite nice. It broke my sorry-ass heart to leave!

But amid all the consequences of my crappy choices, I have one bright spot to look forward to: Paris next month, hopefully! I submitted my requirements to the French Embassy in Manila yesterday--the woes of the developing world: visas--and I really hope that things'll go according to plan. Especially because we already paid for our tickets.

It's not gonna be a vacation, though parts of it will be. Two other students and I will be presenting a paper on the Arab Spring, which will hopefully be published by the Peter Lang Press. Hopefully, again. Hopefully.

All right. I sound like an obnoxious douchebag but there you go. I'm sincerely blessed to have been given all these chances, chances I never ever thought I'd be given. I just wish that I had more time to you know, do stuff.

Like get a boyfriend or something. Not that I care, because I'm asexual.

I'm in a devil of a mood

Sometimes I wonder why we do what we do. I never thought of myself as the type who'd stay long in a thankless job, but I consistently prove otherwise.

At this rate, I could probably become a mail-to-order bride by my twenty-second birthday. God knows I'd love to be treated like dirt by people who don't give a fuck about me.

(This post makes me wonder where all this angst was when I was thirteen--the age where angst was more than normal, it was practically a qualification.)

Evergreen, evermore

Is it weird that Maria and Capt. Von Trapp are one of the few things in the world I actually believe in?

Panic is what panic feels like

School on Monday. I am seriously fucked.

Bicol express

Last week (why I always start my travel entries this way, I don't know), I went to the Bicol region, particularly the provinces of Albay, Sorsogon, and Camarines Sur, for a short holiday.

It was rather beautiful, if not for the torrential rains that crippled us most of the time. Spending hours in cramped vans and nights in crazy hotels with scary bathrooms isn't so bad when you've got Styx (think "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto!" at 7 am repeatedly) and family with you, I've learned.

I took almost 300 pictures, but I'd rather post them bit by bit rather than in one big jizz of a post. Right above is a photo of Mt. Mayon, one of the most famous peaks in the world, which greets you as you get off the plane in Legazpi airport.

The Hunger Games trilogy: the ditziest review you'll ever read online

I finished the Hunger Games trilogy a few months ago.

I was a little apprehensive about liking this book, because I seem to be developing vestiges of the same affection I held for Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga. While I don’t deny that yes, I read Twilight and that I actually enjoyed it, I wasn’t so hot on the idea of the Hunger Games turning into a clusterfuck of poor movie adaptations and even poorer casting choices.

The premise, I’d have to say, is good. It’s kind of like 1984 meets a whole bunch of post-apocalyptic books for young adults, and not in a cheaply done way. It’s full of action, it’s quite violent, and not at all saccharine.

I don’t know about you, though, but a girl can only take so much craziness. I also didn’t like how Suzanne Collins kept the emotional scenes very brief; although I understand that the narrator (Katniss Everdeen) is very EQ-deficient, I really think that there is still a lot of room to draw out the heart of every tender moment that doesn’t remove the book’s overall badassery.

This may not be a popular opinion, but I really do not like Katniss. From her, I realized, stems my anxiety about the Hunger Games turning into sci-fi Twilight. While she’s not as idiotic as Bella, she becomes so freaking annoying when she makes out with Peeta but loves Gale, kisses Gale but feels bad, then realizes that she’s a cold-hearted bitch when both Peeta and Gale acknowledge that she doesn’t actually give a damn about any of them. Okay, it’s true, there’s a war and shit. BUT COME ON. I think we can spare a few pages of you making an actual decision about who to like in between starting a rebellion and killing the president with your mad archery skills.

Speaking of, I’m just gonna put this out there: Peeta Mellark is a babe. When he makes these absolutist statements such as “you are the only reason I live for” and yaddi yaddi yadda, I get a little peeved, but I can’t help it. He’s too adorable. I really hate myself for liking this boy. I really do.

To be honest, I skipped a lot of parts in Mockingjay because I only looked out for the parts where Peeta and Katniss interacted. And I may or may not have teared up in the scene where Haymitch censures Katniss, who begins being a total bitch to Peeta after he got poisoned by the Capitol (causing him to say really mean things to her and to actually try to kill her), and said that if she were the one who got poisoned, Peeta would do everything he could to make her better. IDK. I am such a sucker, really.

I’m not so sure if the disappointment I got from reading this is because of the praises I used to keep hearing, but I thought it was okay. Maybe it’s just not my kind of thing. I’d hate to be a Katniss (i.e. a bitch), but I’m kind of glad I didn’t have to legit buy copies of my own. Would have regretted it, to be honest.

Hong Kong Holiday

Last week, I went to Hong Kong with my friend Andrea. It was a real bitch to prepare for exams (the week after) while exploring a foreign city, but I swear it was worth the trouble.

This man was sitting in front of us on the Airport Expressway. He kept looking back, thinking we were taking photos of him.

Our hotel room.

Hackneyed bokeh shot from our window.

Right after we checked in (that was around ten in the evening), we headed out (in flip flops!) and walked along the MTR station.

I like the MTR. I love trains in general, but the sophistication of its stations, how it snakes through the city in the most convenient ways… maybe I’ll encounter a system much fancier than this, but for now allow me to remain in awe.

Rebecca Black must be proud of the elevator carpets.

First stop was H&M at Silvercord.

Off to Causeway Bay.

This is Jardine's Crescent. The stuff there's not bad, but I liked Temple Street Market on Jordan station much more.

Then we walked five bajillion blocks to World Trade Centre.

We elected to stay in Kowloon the next day.

Cotton On on Granville was having an insane sale. We went a little crazy.

#WakingUpEarlyForOurFlightFail

We have the most ghetto water bottles--Bonaqua. I love them.

Last minute photo in HKIA. Bye, Hong Kong!

Hello, Manila!

Hellogoodbye

Hi. I'm Marga, a twenty-year-old college student on the semi-brink of graduation.

I made this blog because I attended a journalism seminar last January where the speaker said that one of the best ways to establish an online portfolio is to make a blog. My two other blogs aren't very good testaments to the writing ability that I intend to use in order to feed myself and the two children I plan on having with James Franco, so this one came to be.

Enjoy, and try not to choke from laughing at my sad attempts to chronicle the rather mundane life I have.