a list of things i thought i would no longer be after 30

During Friday’s night out with the girls, they reminded me about how, at seventeen, I had boldly said that I wanted to die at 35. I remember none of it, but apparently I also said things about wanting to get educational plans for imagined future children, and similar nonsense, so. Yeah, I said a lot of shit as a young college kid who had no idea life was about to be very different from what had been within my imagination at the time.

“Thirty-five,” they said, “is only four years away.”

“Fuck,” I said.

“And we’re doing Greece pa nga when we’re 35, di ba?”

“God, Kate, please don’t die in Greece?”

“I can’t make a 100-percent fool-proof promise, but I will *try*–”

“Bawal mamatay sa Greece.”

“Ok, ok–”


What had I been thinking, really, talking about dying at 35? Well, something has to be said about someone who’d wanted to go at her peak: Suppose this was someone who thought she’d be done by 35? To be fair, I was seventeen, so I must have thought simply doubling my lifespan at the time would have been enough for me to do everything I wanted?

It’s strange and naive, because while the years between turning twenty and turning thirty have taught me a LOT, I am most definitely not done learning just yet.

tl;dr – Kate at 17 was stupid and wrong.


These days, I am still stupid and these days I am still wrong, and I was mulling over these thoughts as I was on the way to the grocery store on Sunday morning: There are a lot of things people expect 30-somethings to no longer be. Such as stupid and wrong, of course.

Over dinner on Friday, we also talked about skydiving. A friend said something about wanting to do it when we were younger. “But then again, married now,” she said, and apparently, that was that.

“So it does make sense to be reckless in youth,” I said. “Growing up, you tend to become more risk-averse.” At which point I dutifully began drawing a graph in my head: Risk-aversion is directly proportional to age.

Later, another one chimed in to note: “However, when you reach a certain age — say, 60 — you tend not to pay attention too much to the risk anymore.”

Which makes sense, so I edited the graph in my head to depict a bell graph, the line dipping after 60.


So older, you could no longer be stupid, no longer be wrong, no longer be reckless. (Or so expectations go)


Which brings me to the point of this entry, which is supposedly a list of things I thought I would no longer be after 30 (but still kind of am):

Continue reading “a list of things i thought i would no longer be after 30”

senti: UPCAT in retrospect

My last UPCAT post is now four years old. Sa lumang blog pa. My goodness. Naghahanap ako ng something UPCAT-related in recent years, kaso the past couple of Augusts have been sort of hell. (Yung title nung isang post, “Note: You did this to yourself.” Tawang-tawa lang ako.)

Anyway, since UPCAT ngayon sa UP — first UPCAT under the new academic calendar, I think — uso na naman magreminisce. Eto ang aking contribution diyan, albeit in a throwback fashion:

The UPCAT was a five-hour exam and by the time I was done (having shotgunned through some items, admittedly) my head felt like liquid. LOL. Added to the fact that the traffic was horrible and the place, oh my God, the place it was so huge and frightening, and surely my parents couldn’t be so heartless to send me to a place this faraway and BIG?

From: Let’s do an UPCAT post, Aug. 7, 2010

LOL HEARTLESS. Looking back, that was probably the only time my parents imposed anything on me, and it was the best decision they’ve ever cornered me into making. Haha. Lesson learned: Trust your parents, kids. They know.

Anyway, fast-forward to fourteen years later: And so we live in hope that every day we continuously live up to this.

Ito ata ang unang litrato ko sa Oblation. Superstitious daw kasi ako lol.

#throwback: that day i moved out

It was also July when I moved out of Quezon City and into Makati, and I still like what I’d written about that day, so here: Are you seven years ago? Because this is.

On that day, I decided that I did not belong here anymore. Sitting on the steps, right where I first told her, I lit up a cigarette and said a long, slow goodbye.

The Art of Moving, (Originally posted July 30, 2007)


Nothing makes me feel more displaced than the occasional Taft campus errand that takes me to the new registrar’s office.

I had the misfortune of misplacing my ID the other day, so I had to head to Taft to have it replaced, a procedure which took me to the new massive Henry Sy building that’s now standing where the football field used to be. This campus still confuses me, but when I saw the building with escalators, I just knew. That’s it. 

Basically, the new registrar’s office is like a bank with a high-tech  automated queueing system and everything. It was actually very efficient and I appreciated that.

Anyway. When people ask how much time I have left (how very Orange is the New Black, I think, parang sentensya lang ang tinatanong), I used to not mind when I say I still have a long way to go, but then when I realize I’ve been on this program for two years already (technically a junior now, if we’re going to be strict about it), I get anxious. Don’t people finish these things in two years? What’s taking me so long? Etc. (Then I remember how I was late for my last Taft class because meetings on my off day and my question transforms to, Why am I doing this to myself? Etc.)

When I looked at the kids hanging out in circles at the ground floor of the Henry Sy bldg (–so imagine a football field, yes? Imagine that it’s tiled. Yes, it’s that huge and spacious and I was too shy to take a photo for illustrative purposes) I found myself just yearning. For a time when all that mattered was getting from one subject to another. From one semester to the next, and just. Wow. The uncomplicated-ness of the whole thing. And then there was a handful of too-cute-probably-queer girls who hung out at a bench nearby and I’m all like, Jesus. To be gay in this day and age, lol. Then I realize, fuck. These kids are all probably ten years younger. Or more. Where does time go when it does, you know?

So yeah. Here have an old favorite, because these feelings have soundtracks.

Azure Ray – Displaced
Am I making something worthwhile out of this chase
I am displaced (x)

and we’re back

Midterms over the weekend as good as hurdled, although results are something else entirely. Heh. We’ll wrestle with that once we get there. For now we are thankful.


Also on Saturday: Angels UP date! Finally, finally. It was also Ice’s first Angels date since she got back — welcome back, Ice!

We took photos of old places now new — man, Mass Comm now has a smoke-free gated garden! (Named the Freedom of Information Garden, no less! Haha. Wala pang batas pero may garden na! Ipasa na yan!)

Anyway: Wasn’t it only last week when we hung around here after exams, smoking our nerves away? Heh. The Batibot area now also has sheds/roofed tambayans, the pathway to the Film basement is now adorned with fantastic graffiti, and wow what is this two-floor library you’ve already got here? I suppose it’s like meeting an old friend and saying, Well, look who’s ageing rather gracefully? Haha. (Incidentally CMC is marking FIFTY YEARS next year. In time for our batch’s 10th anniversary, no less.)

Also: There were a bajillion cats. Ugh. Cute little feral things.

After CMC, we bought isaw (of course!) and proceeded to Sunken Garden for a picnic.

I left around 5-ish. On the jittery commute home, it started raining.


I may not be around too often but man, UP always brings me back to ~the years~. Haha. You know when people say these times were the best of times, but then people always say that — I mean, don’t we?

But I insist — they were the best I could have had at the time, barring all alternatives and could-have-beens. Mistakes and mishaps all taken into consideration, I always count myself as having been strangely lucky to have been at that place, at that time.

Speaking of young:

Daughter – Candles
Well I have brittle bones it seems
I bite my tongue and I torch my dreams
Have a little voice to speak with
And a mind of thoughts and secrecy
Things cannot be reversed, we learn from the times we are cursed
That things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst

#throwback: boracay ’14

I’ve known these girls since 2001, and would you believe that we haven’t boarded a plane together until Friday morning? =) In effect, this trip was roughly thirteen years in the making hehe.

Don’t get me wrong — I was an expert at fifth-wheeling until 2007 — but man, this would be fun to do another time with Andrea (with whom I am marking 80 months today. EIGHTY! what a number.)

So yes — Boracay on a weekend in May. It’s not as bad and crowded as you think, especially if you’re at Station 1 (and the party comes to you — thanks and happy anniversary, Blue Leaf!)

stealing a couple of photos from the girls:

Mga bagay na hindi maipaliwanag hahaha.

Thanks for taking this photo, Ian! 🙂 Next year ulit.


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