my neurons are pretty much battered and deep-fried by now, so let me just put it as simple as possible: at last!!!

finally, after what feels like years of doing nothing but studying (if a month stretches out that long, i shudder to imagine what five years would feel like), being able to close my post-it-ridden moore shut and stash away dozens of transes in their respective archive envelopes was the greatest feeling in the world. it's inexplicable; the sensation of total freedom, the lack of any responsibility save my need for relaxation and personal gratification.

after studying for days on end, for the first anatomy and derma exams then the biochem and second anatomy exams, it's great to have two weeks with absolutely no heavy requirements at all. some of our classmates have put it best: it's like we're already enjoying our sem break. if you can imagine how much work and stress those exams must have been for us to compare two weeks of head-and-neck plenaries and dissections to the students' second most awaited time of year (second to the summer vacation, of course), then just increase that thought five times over then you've probably got an inkling of what we went through the past few weeks. and mind you, i'm hardly exaggerating; with all those crammed lessons and dissections due to the lost days of class, and having to celebrate one exam down by studying for the other exams to come, i'm probably not even giving our forsaken efforts justice. if this is the euphoria we get for every exam run we go through, then maybe it's not such a bad thing after all... what am i saying?! see, necrotic brain cells, right here.

oh well, nonetheless the vacation is here and now. and so for this weekend, it's all about the r and r. hard as it is to believe, i'm already at home sweet home in qc, about to spend two (yes, two!) nights at home. i've been playing with some photshop clipboard-label-tag ideas the past few days, which i might finally get to realize tonight or soon enough. tomorrow is sale-in-sm-north-edsa day for me, then sunday could be up vs. ue at araneta or bambang browsing for scrubs and equipment. the only academic stuff i have lined up for this week is a handout we have to reformat to make it fotox-feasible, but that's nothing to worry about. typing also has its relaxing effects on me anyway. and speaking of typing, i've had a couple of blog entry ideas stored on my phone for nearly a week now, so i'll be getting to those pretty soon too. this is hardly the time to be ignoring my blog anyway, with all the *interesting* happenings in med life.

so much *nothing* to do, so little time. entering vacation mode in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

for some bizarre, inexplicable reason, it struck me as a good idea to suddenly slack off twenty minutes before the self-imposed study curfew for correlative cell biology last sunday night and read my archived blog entries. while it may not have helped me distinguish stereocilia from cilia or learn the difference between the basement membrane and basal lamina, the brief respite proved to be just the mood booster i was looking for.

it was really such fun looking back on events in my life and seeing my past self's literary take on matters trivial and otherwise. luckily, being a college freshman that time provided me *some* degree of emotional stability and maturity. i might have died right then and there if i had peeked at my past entries and found a teeny-bopper juvenile's incessant whining and mindless prattle concerning irrelevant nothings. oh yes, i do whine and prate over certain trivialities (case in point: right now), but never in a juvenile way.

even more fun was realizing how dorky i blogged and how childish my writing seemed to be a few years ago (is there *really* any difference? you be the judge), and trying to imagine how i could have let myself run rampant in that forgettable phase of social-netting suicide for so long. imagine, smileys in my entries?! but at the very least, that quintessential dash of flowery flair and wizardly wordplay for which my writing is *so infamously* known for was present even since then, giving me something positive to look back on (the chronic ego inflation is apparently a recent development).

but what struck me the most was the stark difference between my views on my past experiences then, and as i'm looking back on them now. honestly, i remember ranting back then that that was the worst stress and pressure i've ever felt in my life, and that that was a valid emotion during that time. but as we continued on our path as imed, and now as medical students, i guess the same emotion just kept on resurfacing on every given opportunity, me being sure that whenever that moment was and however i felt then was the worst i could ever feel. and now, after having gone through organic chem and embryology and just recently our first anatomy lab exam, i think i've adopted the same cynicism and dry sarcasm as everyone else who went through the same stuff, or even worse. it's like i keep on swearing that this is the worst it could get, but then life stabs me in the back and presents me with yet another more *challenging* situation. if anything, that's something i can be sure of; med school never fails to deliver the good stuff.

at least by this time, i've learned that life rarely gets any easier, we just learn to cope with it and to shift it to our advantage. along with accepting that fact comes the slight twinge of irritation i now feel whenever anyone, my past self included, unaware of that truth comes along and complains about what they're having trouble with right then, not realizing that there will *always* be something worse coming up along the way, and that they should be thankful that that's all they have to handle in their lives. like i said, the juvenile-ness of it all just makes me want to roll my eyes and share knowing looks with people in the same stage i am (knowing looks being something i have become adept with over the sems).

but what the heck, they (past self included) don't know any better. i could be kind enough to let them pass with a little laugh and the generic answer "hintayin nyo lang pag dating nyo sa proper. tapos hihilingin nyo na sana nasa first year lang kayo ulit" or something like that. along with all that plastic crap will come the prayer that someday, they too will realize that no amount of whining will change the fact that things will get tougher as they go along, and that someday they too can look back at their past personas and roll their eyes in sarcastic frustration.

for reasons even hazy to me, my rhythmics fever still keeps on rising. i haven't spent this much time or given this much priority to any other extracurricular activity save sleep. so naturally, when i found out last tuesday that our first opportunity to present as part of the medrhythmics was coming up this friday, as part of the pgh 99th year celebration street party, i could barely contain my excitement. but just like everything else, there was a catch: there would be a cut, a screening stage, an elimination process. we had to dance the seven eights of hiphop we had previously learned for the members, our peformance on which would determine who dances and who stands silently at the sidelines.

i wasn't particularly pressured at this point, until the time came for our group to give the dance. it was sometime during the sequence that i thought, "a little more practice might have been in order." i floundered at several of the steps, particularly the steps i had to catch up on, but i kept at it the best i can. two repeats after, the second group had their turn, then came deliberation time. i was again pretty much nonchalant the entire time, until the words came out of their mouths.

as expected (but not as wanted), i didn't get picked. i could try fooling myself and say that i'm glad my *talents* weren't required for the friday presentation. first off, at least that's a little bit of unnecessary stress out of the way for now. besides, with the fate intermission numbers coming soon, that's quite sufficient dancing to keep me occupied. another good line would be that i couldn't possibly retain all the choreography required, plenty of which was taught even before i started attending training sessions. best of all, less dance time means more study time (of which i am in desperate need).

but honestly, who doesn't feel the disappointment of rejection, no matter how minor the issue? we try to hide our shame and spite, lest we be taken as jealous and bitter (which we are, to some extent), but the internal emotional turmoil is always there. despite hiding it successfully with the outward smiles, awkward congratulations to the chosen ones, and the "ok lang naman un sa akin, may ibang pagkakataon pa naman" lines, it is always there. and don't even think twice; i'm hardly any different from that.

i admit it, i'm disappointed. i'm bitter and jealous and depressed. i'm sad that i didn't get picked, because i'm sure i could do just as good as the selected ones, given the chance to practice and polish the steps. i really wanted to get picked because this was the first time anyone from our batch of trainees would be performing an actual dance during an actual external event. being picked would have meant that i can actually hold a candle to the *real* dancers in the group, despite my near lack of any prior training. i even went so bold as to think that i would surely be picked, compared to the slim pickings of the applicants that night (of the eight who attended, four were selected) and my distorted perception of everyone's skill level at that time. that just made it hit harder when the announcement was made, my name not included.

i even went to the next practice session with the smallest spark of hope in the back of my mind that if we learn the steps and perform the dance decently, we might be given additional slots in the performance. we all learned the choreo and performed it to a passable level (considering that the non-performers were all taking a backseat that session) but still to no avail. i'm now stuck accepting my fate at home and trying *futilely* to divert my attentions to studying and this blog entry, still to no avail.

but don't get me wrong, i have absolutely nothing against the members who chose the performers or the applicants who will be performing tomorrow. i'm still proud of and humbled by them, because they are the ones i should aspire to reach. i still want to watch the rhythmics segment of the party, knowing that they will still be giving an amazing performance, just as they should be. it'll still sting knowing that i could've been up there with them, but if anything, it'll just get me to work extra hard to get in the next time.

it really doesn't help a boy with a penchant for clothing capers much to be practically living inside a mall: the trials of fortitude and dedication are nearly endless.

take this afternoon for example. it was just a quick run to robinsons place for a cash withdrawal (atms and monthly stipends don't help much either) when i happened to take a peek at the oxygen boutique, and happened to chance upon another exquisite jacket, this time in flesh with brick-red accents. now, i don't want to be labelled as a brand loyalist, but oxygen is really the only store i've seen which consistently comes close to my taste in jackets, and with my current obsession with them, you can just imagine the endorphin spike that was for me.

now, i had just bought a jacket (remember moss green with blue) from the said store, which was a great find as well. but now, even i find it especially extravagant to be purchasing yet another one so soon after the previous one, so i was pretty set to walk away. i thought i could easily resist temptation, until my eyes wandered across the clincher: 20% off on all items, in big blaring bold red signs scattered throughout the shop. even during all-mall sales, you'd be hard-pressed to find something better than 10% off, aside from dumpworthy items the stores have to get rid of. 20% is a regular miracle of everyday life, if you ask me. which is precisely why the real test began.

my breathing and pulse rate quickened; my palms and brows broke out in a cold sweat. one could have seen the wild, manic twinkle that lit up in my eyes at that moment. the retail beast had awoken; next came the epic struggle between its insatiable hunger for good buys and my remaining values and restraints. i swear, i could have gone all epileptic in rob, with that intense internal conflict going on in my head. fashion or frugality? style or sensibility? trendsetting or thriftiness? the alliterations could keep on coming, but you get what i mean. while my brain was desperately trying to weigh my options, my hands and feet must have had minds of their own, with the repeated pacing to and from the store and the constant reaching for my wallet, even if i already knew i had enough money if i wished to give in. funny how some actions can become almost reflexive once you've done them all too often.

but guess what? i didn't cave this time. as hard as it was for me, i turned my back to the incredibly-amazing-flesh-with-brick-red-accents jacket and paced away as fast as i could that wouldn't look weirdly autistic inside a mall. but before anyone praises the strength of my character, let me just cut you off right here. the only reasons i held off the overwhelming drive to spend were because i already had eyes on a pair of sneakers i had spotted last week, and what i'm really looking for is a jacket in the perfect shade of blue. twisted motives, yes, but they work just fine.

so just watch out, the retail beast will crave for sacrifice soon enough.

med school sure has brought a lot of changes in me. for starters, it's only been here where i actually begin studying for an exam over a week before, or where i celebrate finished exams by studying for the next one. i've also recently taken to highlighting handouts, sims, and transes and placing post-it bookmarks in my moore (believe me, i was never this passionate or focused with studying before, despite my inherent oc-ness.) i suppose it's just a normal reaction to actually studying medicine; it'd be practically impossible to do good or even survive without upping the studying level quite a bit.

but what's funny about all this, is when i finally did grow up and take my education seriously, is when i also started resorting to *other* means of ensuring my exam outcomes. no, i don't mean cheating, if that's what it sounds like. we've taken to the habit of declaring any uncharacteristic activity or condition we've had before an exam which comes out good as a source of "good luck". for instance, migz, joey, and i have been studying at mocha blends adriatico on the eve before the exam for several exams running, after our first experience there led to more-than-favorable results in our first anatomy exam. i've also been changing my code name for exam results (code names being the most fun i've had related to exams since the advent of exemptions) for each exam based on my recent blog entries, another thing i consider a source of good karma. so far, i've identified my lucky exam jacket (mr. moss green), lucky exam shoes (an old, battered pair of brown cole-haans i *borrowed* from my dad), lucky lab exam scrubs (dark blue with sailing motifs), and some other stuff even i consider too pathetic to even mention.

don't worry though, i haven't quite reached a point of utter insanity that i would forego the actual studying part and just rely on these unproven charms and traditions; they serve a more passive part in the entire pre-exam process. they're just there to provide a little extra bit of confidence and security as we undergo more and more rounds of hell-on-paper, as if actually having them really do have any positive effect at all on the exams' outcomes. with the increasing level of difficulty of everything and the mounting pressure i'm incurring with all the academic and extracurricular stuff i'm taking on, i need all the help i can get.

but then again, there's always the possibility that behind all the stress and panic and unsurity, i'm actually learning something, which could then account for the past few exams. at this point though, with all the info that cycles through my mind on a weekly basis, it's actually more believable that there is an arcane explanation to everything than thinking of the more plausible reason. i can only hope that in the end, i'm really just on the path to becoming a doctor, learning as i should along the way, rather than just stumbling along on a weird combination of dumb luck and supernatural intercession.

at this point, i really hope it's not the habits which determine the final grade. biochem was such a cramfest that we had to skip the blends tradition last thursday. we'll soon find out, i suppose.

i can't do a forward roll to save my life. so there.

it wouldn't be that bad, really, since there probably won't ever really come a time in my life that a forward roll would determine the balance between biting the dust and rising from the ashes. but then again, if you think about it, my life has been sort of revolving around rhythmics training sessions and the random, insignificant stuff that happens in between. if i don't learn this simplest of skills which even 3-year-old toddlers can perform with ease, then i'm practically killing my chances of performing the jazz number kuya james has been teaching us for the past few meetings. and he's been saying that the dance will be including several more forward rolls for me to blow over. what fun.

you can't say that i haven't been trying though; i spent a good two hours or so last sunday just attempting a roll on my bed, obviously to no avail. and the epitome of pathetic: james had to push my butt over my head twice during this afternoon's session, and still i couldn't get it on my own. it was weird, actually: it seemed like i was going to fall on my side, but then the world righted itself and i was sitting still facing the front. if i can just get over whatever's holding me back from just doing it (yes, i admit it... fear) since i've already experienced it, to some degree, then the world would be all right once again.

oh well. whenever you fall down, just pick yourself back up again. or even better, turn the fall into a tuck and forward roll your way to the next steps of the dance. how i just wish.