- Mood:
accomplished - Music:No presssure over capuccino - Alanis Morissette
Ching residence, 4:30 AM: Mark wakes up after only a mere four hours of restless sleep. He jumps out of the couch in their living room, as he did frequently in the week, for her fears that if he sleep in his room he'll finally get the well-deserved sleep he lacked since two weeks ago, and he won't be able to wake up very early in the morning to draft the academic papers he needs for his classes. He greets his mom who asks him why the television turned on by itself. Naka-automatic turn-on po, he tells his mom, wondering why he thought of using the television as an alarm clock when all the TV shows in the wee hours of the morning are blue screens of melancholy. He turns to the personal computer behind him and turns it on. He starts drafting the paper while sipping near-cold coffee. Dido sings to his ear about all the sadness in the world, and he turns mellow.
Ching residence, 6:00 AM: Mark eats breakfast while the news is turned on. He pities the character being shown on screen, telling himself how he should pray for this Lozada guy. Through the pity, Mark starts admiring the guy for his courage, but wonders, when will the guy's peace end? Images of summary executions danced around his head and he wished all the corrupt men and women a nice one-way ticket to hell.
On the way to UP, 7:15 AM: Mark boards a jeep to school, while the same sad music is piped to his ear. He sings along and relates the sad sad songs to the lives of all the people around him and he prays for them silently. Every song reminds him of one friend and he thinks, if only all their lives are just as short as songs. He tells himself that he needs to help them because the world will end tomorrow.
Palma Hall, 9:00 AM: Mark slowly nods to sleep while one of his classmates tells something about the population problems in some forsaken place in the world, top which he doesn't care... at all. Sleepless and tired, he worries about the midterm exam later in the afternoon which he doesn't know anything about. He needs rest but he still has multitude of things to do. Sighing, he makes a little note of all the things he wants to accomplish for the day.
MassComm library, 10:45 AM: Mark makes his CommRes 101 exam reviewer and and tries to finish it before 11:30. He looks around for some people from the same class but his efforts were in vain. He wonders how he could get the class notes for the last class in which he was absent in last Thursday because he judged one ad congress during that time. He knows the bulk of the exam will be from that Thursday lecture, and he fears he will flunk the exam. He briefly jots down a title for the reviewer: CommRes 101 Reviewer para sa midterm exam ng kamatayan. He chuckles briefly while thinking if he would stay in the library until 1 PM to wait for classmates and to copy notes, or to go to mass. He chooses the latter. Around 11:25 AM, he sees James enter the library, and remembering what his mentor told him yesterday about his new MP3 player, he practically ran out of the library without being seen by anyone.
Church of the Holy Sacrifice, 11:56 AM: Mark sits on one of the back seats in the circular church. Holding the reviewer-slash-trashy-yellow-paper in the church, he reads it carefully, hiding it from the view of two guys from his organization. He thinks God will understand why he needs to review in His church before the Mass starts. The Angelus is prayed and he stands up, not really thinking of the prayer but the exams later. He sits down again and hides the reviewer in his bag. The priest enters, the Mass starts, and all the while he thinks of all the people he needs to pray for. he feels pressured and tired from all the people his mentor told him to find. He feels forced, and he contemplates what real freedom means. He believes this current mind frame was just caused by fatigue. While the holy communion was being served, he skips it, kneels down and prays profusely until the Mass is finished. After the priest leaves, he genuflects hurriedly and runs out of the Church shamefully.
MassComm annex building, 1:30 PM: Mark, holding a black pen in one hand and the exam paper in the other hand, tries to think really really hard how he can answer the objective questions in the exam. He wonders why he chose to be absent in this class last Thursday and why he chose to judge an ad congress instead. He wonders what gains he got from the event and finds none. He blames himself for the bad decision and tells himself that lately he's been setting up the wrong priorities for himself. He decides to write a blog post later titled Wrong foot forward that will remind him that he should not advance just one foot (the career foot) but both feet (plus the academic foot) for if he doesn't then he will tumble. He closes his exam paper with a sigh, gives it to the professor, and trudges out the room.
MassComm auditorium, 2:20 PM: Mark talks to his classmates about the exam and finds that most of them had the same fate as his. They all found the exam hard and they said they will also fail it. Minutes later, while he was listening to Alanis Morissette, a numerary approaches him and gives him homework. He agrees, and immediately after the numerary has left his MP3 player sputtered and died. He thinks of how numeraries could be that powerful so as to successfully act on things indirectly. Meanwhile, only a short time passes before he finds how impossible the task is. He asks himself how he can take a solo picture of the guest speaker with a digital camera without a zoom function. Somehow, he manages to take the photos and so he leaves for his 4 PM class.
CAL New Building, 5:10 PM: While the class is going on and the professor is discussing rhymes, Mark talks to Joseph about hot air balloons and MP3 players. After a while, a sudden explosion is heard in the room and near the window. His classmates screamed, and he found that his MP3 player charger was the one that exploded. He runs to the electric socket, pulls the charger out, and tries to act like nothing has happened. The professor tries to calm the class and continues with the discussion. Meanwhile, Mark wonders if his player still works.
Sunken Garden, 5:56 PM: Mark listens to the MP3 player/boom-survivor while walking to the Collegian office for the general meeting. He decides to pass through the center of the Sunken Garden to divert himself from all the gloom he's feeling. Along the way, he passed through a group of people playing competitive Frisbee. He walks through the group, and one bulky lady in the group tells him to stop watching. One bad-haired stupid stupid guy approached him and practically shooed him out of the area. Agitated, Mark just answered: But I like danger... when in reality, he wanted to bash their faces in. He couldn't believe a group of inconsiderate bastards can take hold of the Sunken Garden and say they own it. Climbing up the four sets of stairs to the office, he wonders if these nincompoops are giving rent money to the university so they can lay claim to the land.
Collegian office, 7:15 PM: The issue assessment is being conducted and the Collegian editors seem to be stuck in page six and seven. They are saying lots of criticism, and they sting Mark. He leaves the room and goes to the computer room to take a deep breath, brood and then blog.
Vinzon's fourth floor, 8:20 PM: Mark dials their home number. His youngest brother answers the phone, and Mark tells him he wouldn't be able to go home. He wanted to say more but couldn't--his brother already hanged up.
Ching residence, the day before, 10:44 PM: Tricia sends Mark a text message asking for help. She tells him she's lonely and does not know whom to get help from. He advices her to sleep it off and sort it out in the morning. He tells him he'll talk to her in the morning and tells her she should be strong even just for her daughter. She replies:
I'm tired of being strong.. Wala namang nangyayari.. At the end of the day, ganun pa rin.. Pero, anyway, thanks..
Tricia, right now, I agree with you. I could have said that first, and I think I could say that now. Don't worry about me though, I think I'm just tired and all. I'll sleep it all of, and see you tomorrow.
- Location:Collegian office
- Mood:
blah - Music:Dido - Here With me
I am not really talking about gourmet here, but our daily food for living: God’s love, words and grace.
I might have been taking too much lately. Or maybe I’m too much bathing in it. Recently all I can think of is this kind of food–everything I do I use God, I do everything for God, all I think of is to be worthy of His grace.
I think I’m too much preoccupied with it, too much that I forgot a major assignment I should have done earlier this week because today is this assignment’s deadline.
My only class today, Wednesday’s, is Journalism 122… my only major subject this semester (the other journalism subjects are electives) and the hardest.
I can also say it has the least worth for me. Maybe because of the professor.
I don’t like how she handles this subject, and I don’t like her syllabus at all. The course should be about design and layout (the last time I checked my checklist, it still is) and all this professor teaches us is the history of the Internet, of the computer, of printing presses, and all other mundane stuff not really connected to designing pages.
Who cares if there are four stages in the computing revolution? Who cares if the invention of the integrated circuit ushered the computer age? Computer engineers maybe… but not budding journalists and page designers like me. What does microchips have to do with page design?
I should have chosen the other female professor teaching this subject instead of this one I have now. Last time I heard, her students are producing at least one design output weekly, be it a newsletter, a brochure, or a magazine. Our class under my professor, meanwhile, produces nothing. We learn no design.
I don’t understand how she can’t pinpoint what the subject should be about! In fact, the head of the department had to argue with her (so she ranted in front of our class) so she would change our final output requirement to newspaper page design. She initially planned that we would design a news website in the finals, a decision I can’t grasp, considering the subject is about newspaper page design which should be printed. Can’t she just leave website design with the Journalism 117 subject (Online Journalism) and focus instead on print design?
Then she had the gall to give an assignment over the holidays without even telling us in front of the class (she had been absent before the break). So I didn’t know about it until Friday last week, when a girl from the Saturday section ask me about design errors in a page she was holding. It crossed my mind then that maybe we have an assignment, but then I thought maybe the assignment was only for the Saturday section.
I know I should have done it, but I keep on forgetting I should. The times when I remember it I was too preoccupied with God that I instantly forget it again. I may be in Church, or I may be praying or the Holy Mass may be going on.
Then I spent yesterday in Kapuluan praying in the oratory for one hour and then talking to some people there, then taking my first basic course. The thought of the assignment never came up in my head at all.
So maybe too much preoccupation with God makes me forget things. Yesterday’s key question in the basic course is if I love God with all my mind. I think I do, but I think if I continue doing it I go on and forget things.
I had never been forgetful. In fact, I never had a planner in my life, and I never write down any assignment and any deadline. My memory works hard for me and I remember everything for me to do it on time.
I think I don’t have much time in my hands. I never procrastinate (extremely) and I spent my holiday writing papers. But now I think the Sacraments are filling my day. I had even written a daily schedule for myself, an act that I have never done in my life. I did so I could go to Mass daily, so I won’t miss the basics course every Tuesday, so I could chat with my mentor every Friday, and so I could go to meditation every Saturdays/recollection every first Saturday of each month.
See the weekly tasks I have to take? Not to mention that my free time has been taken up by reading holy books, praying silently or thinking about who I can bring with me to the center.
I belive these activities make me happy. They did in the past, and saved me from eternal depression. Notwithstanding that everytime that I’m in the center I am filled with joy, or that everytime I talk to my mentor/the director/my spiritual director, all fears and anxieties are blown away.
So should I stay in the center forever, or should I be with these guys for life? Not really. I have a life to live and I have a job to do.
I don’t blame God. It may sound like I’m saying the cause of my recent forgetfulness is His name, but I’m really not. I am constantly praying for His presence to stay with me so He could guide me.
I think I should find a way to sanctify my life further. Through this I won’t forget anything else for God would will everything to me.
Or maybe I just need to get a planner.
Post Script: The professor was absent today, so I still could pass the assignment next week. God really works wonders.
- Mood:
I have a fever. Awww... - Music:You are my everything--Calloway
Yay!
I'm currently alone here in the office (all of my colleagues, plus the editors, went home) listening to Rihanna and Chris Brown's Umbrella. :)
Isn't life good?
We won't be able to release the issue tomorrow though. The EIC said Friday. Yes, the Friday holiday. Saddest thing... considering I tried my hardest to finish it (it's not my fault though, but the fault of s-l-o-o-o-o-o-o-w writers).
Everything's fine though.
Now I need to print the pages to proof them and do the final edit.
I love this issue's layout. It's great. :) *awed*
Okay, maybe I need to sleep now. :)
- Mood:
contemplative - Music:I will remember you--Sarah McLachlan
Everyone is asleep while I am working.
I am still finalizing the layout of this week’s issue, which cropped up a few typography errors on the way.
I’m alone, and hungry.
And lonely.
Bamboo sings beside me, but he’s made of dead steel.
“It’s been so good since I last saw you. Ho-oh child.”
Yeah, Bamboo. Tell me what you want.
What I want is sleep. And enough time for me to go home and to get new fresh clothes to stock in my locker. And to greet my mom “hello.”
Time. Energy. And space.
I need to think about my life now.
Of why I am lonely most of the time.
Of why i can’t say a damn word to the people I like very much.
Of why I can’t even say a stupid greeting.
Or a smile.
“Is this burning an eternal flame?” Yeah, Atomic Kitten.
Is it? I don’t know.
Gad. Why did I bring myself to this job, to this life, to this mess?
It’s lonely to be alone at 1 AM in the morning working on a deadline.
It’s tough to do this hungry, tired, and drained.
Doubly hard if I am depressed. As I am now.
“Let it Be.” The Beatles.
“There will be answer.”
What answer?
“Whisper words of wisdom.”
How?
And why?
Plus whence?
Ergo wothehell?
I’m lost.
Please, pretty please, help me find myself.
(Then I try to smile but it hurts.)
- Location:Philippine Collegian office
- Mood:awake
- Music:Bamboo- I-You
Me, who have been coaxing himself two months ago, to talk to X: Excuse me, can I talk to you?
X:Huh?
Me:Were you the one in the museum?
X:Museum? What museum?
Me, wondering, but feeling triumphant and beaming: Uh, nothing.
So now I'm ready to pursue larger things. Haha.
- Mood: chipper
- Music:Mmm Mmm Mmm- Crash Test Dummies
Oh woe high heavens (of Rm. 401, Vinzons Hall) forgive thee...
Let lightning doth strike;
let axe doth fall on thy neck;
or let boot kick thy ass...
basta I would do my very very best the next time (that is, if there is a next time). Huhu. :(
- Mood:
anxious - Music:milkshake-kelis
But really. That bad cliche is what most describes my days like now.
First off, I feel like the whole world rode a train headed to hell. Everything's a blur now that I kind of forget some things I need to be doing. Academic requirements, those nifty things that I never ever forget to do lest I lose my UP privileges, have seem worthless now.
Not that I'm throwing my life out. I'm not depressed. In fact I feel manic, like I don't need to sleep. The reason is that I just got accepted to the Philippine Collegian as a lay out artist last week and it gave me a rush.
The work keeps me so busy so much that I can't seem to think of anything anymore but pages and line and borders and mastheads and Adobe InDesign when I should be thinking of the tons of papers and reports that my academic existence so requires.
So here I am, hoping against hope fate gives me leeway while trying to decide between sleeping or reviewing for that pesky midterm exam in Comm 141 that gets to be cancelled every Thursday it's scheduled, or that J 117 report that I'm itching to finish.
To top it all off, lay outing the pages of the Philippine Collegian requires a hands on job, one that should be really dedicated. So tonight I would spend the whole night in that homely office in Room 401 Vinzons hall with eyes glued to the screen and hand grasping the mouse.
I only hope my Revicon helps me right or I die of exhaustion.
- Mood:
exhausted - Music:What's Up- 4 non blondes
I hate life.
- Mood: cold
- Music:Taxi Ride- Tori Amos
So you passed the UPCAT. Who's your backer?
I was asked this question, and I was so pissed that I had to restrain myself from shouting that ONE: Backers don't work in UP and they can't help you pass the UPCAT, and TWO: I passed the UPCAT with all my intelligence only (no backers there). yeah, and charm.
I feel so insulted.
- Mood:
annoyed - Music:perfect- alanis morissette
It was fun anyway, and aside from the usual questions that pertain to writing and editing, fuin fun fun questions were inserted like:
Masarap ka ba?
Item 1: sex, item 2: gender
What is love?
Kung kaya mong iedit ang mukha mo, ano ang ieedit mo? eh sa katabi mo?
Kung monitor ka tapos buong gabi ay may mag-eedit sa'yo, sino kaya ang gusto mo mag-edit sayo?
Who is your first kiss at saan?
Now if only Prof. Avecilla's exam was like that...
- Mood:
geeky - Music:Surrendering- Alanis Morissette
Just when I am nearing the edge of it all, you pull me back.
Today, you seem to be pouring in everywhere, to greet me and talk to me and to make me forget and to care.
To Sheila, John Alliage, John Marcel, Chuck, AM, Bibang, Mark G., Jed, Flau, Froi, Doris, Gelene, and Avriel, thank you for making me smile.
To Sheila, again, thank you. You couldn't have known it (I could have told you, but I was stupidly scared not to) but you just told me something that made me want to live. Again.
To John Alliage and to John Marcel: thanks for the invite. I would go on Friday. I promise.
To Chuck: you were kind enough to drop by and make me smile, a bit. Thanks.
To AM: I read your email. Thanks for the consolation. You are the only being who could know the whole story.
To Bibang: thanks for the hi. I love to hi back.
To Mark Gubagaras: thanks for the greeting. You're too kind.
To Jed: thank you a hundred-fold. You're a great sister persona, and I'll take your advice. Thanks for the fascinating Cinemalaya story, I'll watch your recommendation.
To Flau, Froi, Gelene and Doris: It was nice to talk to you. Don't worry Floi, I'll find a way to find you a cap like mine.
So thank you guys. I don't know what I could have done without you.
- Mood: contemplative
- Music:Honestly Okay by Dido, the ultimate suicide song.
Nah, they aren't things that should be confined in the darkest recesses of shydom. They are rather the weird qualities that I didn't know I have, until someone pointed it out to me.
I would only discuss one I recently discovered through talks with my peers.
Here's one conversation in a group meeting for J 121 last Friday:
Me: So who would be our leader?
JM Tuazon: 'Di ako. (Not me)
Kharl Prado: Sino bang OC sa atin? (but who is the obsessive compulsive among us three?)
*Both point to my direction.
I didn't pay attention to that then. My only reaction was awe as I don't really recognize the word. I thought it was something about being very organized (in a way, I guess, I am this way).
However, an incident in Avecilla's class last Monday made me pay attention:
Jem Garcia: But you are OC, Mark!
Me: Really? (procedes to sticking a post-it to a phonecard)
Jem Garcia: Yes. See how you stick a post-it? Ordinary people do it like this. (procedes to stick a post-it to a phonecard). we just stick post-its like this... we don't FLATTEN OUT THE POST-IT FOR MINUTES TO ENSURE ITS STUCK!
Me: (guilty of flattening OUT THE POST-IT FOR MINUTES TO ENSURE ITS STUCK!) Uh, okay. (Flabbergasted)
So I'm OC. But then to make sure, I made a teeny bit of research...
According to our pal Wikipedia...Diagnostic criteria (DSM-IV-TR)
The DSM-IV-TR, a widely-used manual for diagnosing mental disorders, defines that for a patient to be diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive personality disorder, they must exhibit at least four of the following traits:
* Preoccupation with details, rules, lists, order, organization, bodily functions, or schedules to the extent that the major point of the activity is lost
* Showing perfectionism that interferes with task completion (e.g., is unable to complete a project because his or her own overly strict standards are not met)
* Excessive devotion to work and productivity to the exclusion of leisure activities and friendships (not accounted for by obvious economic necessity)
* Being overconscientious, scrupulous, and inflexible about matters of morality, ethics, or values (not accounted for by cultural or religious identification)
* Inability to discard worn-out or worthless objects even when they have no sentimental value
* Reluctance to delegate tasks or to work with others unless they submit to exactly his or her way of doing things
* Adopting a miserly spending style toward both self and others; money is viewed as something to be hoarded for future catastrophes
* Showing rigidity and stubbornness
* Urge to perfect every little thing
It is important to note that while a person may exhibit any or all of the characteristics of a personality disorder, it is not diagnosed as a disorder unless the person has trouble leading a normal life due to these issues.
And I'm guilty. Perfect. I fit all these.
(part 2 tomorrow)
- Mood:
amused - Music:Fergie-Big Girls Don't Cry
Right now.
- Mood:
kill me. now.
I'm such a loser.
- Mood: I.won't.cry.
- Music:When You're Gone-Avril Lavigne
I am going to shift out of Journalism.
Okay, let me rephrase that. I was thinking of shifting out of Journalism.
There were various reasons. One is that I am anti-social. I hate functions. I hate gatherings. I hate parties. I hate concerts. If ever people can live under a rock and subsist
on algae, well, I’ll be the there forever.
The fact is that we can’t. Besides the truth that algae tastes bad (I’ve tried it once), I doubt there will be plumbing in the rock. Oh yeah. And books.
So here I am in Journalism, thinking I’m in the wrong college. I live in CMC with the dread of people contact. I scurry the halls of Mass Comm., eyes downcast, seeing no one, really believing that weeeeellll… that crack on the floor really is more interesting than that girl who I am supposed to know, are that guy who likes to greet me everytime he sees me.
I’m not saying I’m not fit to be here. I’m good at research. Okay, I’m great at research. I can be seen almost all the time in the libraries, looking for that elusive book the OPAC says is there but isn’t. Or being a ghost in chatrooms and forums finding that obscure information about the new Transformers movie.
But that’s it. These kinds of research don’t work well in Mass Communication. There will come a time when I’m forced to me this organization head so I can interview him, or this mayor so I can confirm reports. I hate it.
One fact is that I’m not articulate. I know my English is good, but it’s shaky. There are days when it is perfect (like last Thursday, in the JVO when I asked the panel a trivial question--my batchmates applauded me because of this) or is crappy (like last Monday in J 121 where I can't even read a sentence correctly--para akong illiterate).
I don't like to speak my thoughts out. I'd rather write them. When I was a freshie, I'd always go sit in front of the class, but then I'd be very quiet. Di ba students who sit in front are usually bibo and all? Well, I'm not that type.
I am the type of person whom you have in a class but won't remeber after the semester. I think this is true myself. (Or is it? Post a shout out.)
So should I stay here in Mass Communication--when I can't even communicate? I need time to think.
- Location:UP
- Mood:
indescribable - Music:When You're Gone- Avril Lavigne
You see, I have about three blogs that I am managing for the time being. The first one is in motime, my first blog which I discarded early but kept later because a friend I had there missed me (seriously). So I had a change of heart.
The second blog is in wordpress, which is my main blog of the moment. I like this blog because I've earned some readers (okay, some skimmers).
Then I had this one just yesterday. Why? Well, because I have been a fan of Woodycakes for a while now, and I don't want to comment anonymous again. So I made my identity to read on Patty. the.great.blogger.
So there I was, wondering what to do with this excess blog, when a brilliant idea came up. Wonderful.
This is called google blogging (at least that's what i think it's called). First, you type "<your name> likes to" (include the quotation marks) in google search, then you click search. Be surprised with the results, list them, and voila! a blog post!
Well Ms.Pamy started with the verb like, and so I thought, why can't I play with the verbs? So here comes... Google Fun with Mark. Yay!
Okay, so here goes my first attempt. See the full search results here.
- Wow! This is fun. Now what could I bring to Hitler's speech? Tomatoes, perhaps? Really, now, who would want to get influenced by this (rotten) guy? I'm sure he's a great orator, so I'd rather steer away...
- Uh, I can't understand this dream. I dreamt that I was being worked on? By what? Somehow this has that creepy quality to it. This is a dream that is easily forgotten.
- This is naughty. Very naughty. " " The spider enters a women's restroom, so that he can ..." what? Take a leak?
- Oooh, spooky! But seriously, can this get any spookier? If this is a nightmare, then it is a very lame nightmare. Not even infants get scared with the number 13!
| I mean alltits and UKJAngel may have some weird Whit/Mark dreams that the little kiddies shouldn't be reading about. Wait a sec...I'm not even 18 yet. ... |
- Uh oh. What things little kids shouldn't read about? Something naughty like Mad? Or something sexy and lusty like the Catholic Weekly?
- Uh... do I like to go fishing with Uncle Scott? And what biggest fish are we gonna catch... a shark? Jaws with me and Uncle Scott, out now.
- Location:UP Diliman
- Mood: I had to retype this. grr.
- Music:We are the World- USA for Africa
Once upon a time in a land not so far away, there lived a prince named Mark who was looking for a bride. He gave the page a note, and off she went into the country, announcing to everyone who cared to listen that there will be a royal dance in the palace that night to give way to the search for the next queen.
Every single girl from far and wide cared to hear, and they also cared to heed the announcement. They came to the palace early wearing their best gowns: some trimmed with gold as to outshine the sun, some filled with lace hangings as to imitate the wind, and some filled with all kinds of colors as to resemble the rainbow.
They entered the palace, they with the rich class, and chattered with gaiety, each telling all how their mother got them the dress, where they go every summer, how much each jewel they flaunt costed their extravagant fathers.
The prince just sat at the royal high chair, caring none for the idle chatter. He did not go for extravagance: he hated those who flaunt. He did not believe in everyone’s high airs: he believed they were all just castles in the air. Furthermore, he did not want those who talked too much: he found these talks without meaning.
What he wants for his-bride to be is the exact opposite of these girls that are in his party. He ignored them, and sat still, staring at nothing and fell asleep. Pretty soon, the girls left, with the attitude much the same as the wolf’s attitude to the grapes that he can’t reach.
When all had left, the page approached the prince to wake him up. It was getting to be pretty cold out here in the hall and she thought that the prince might get sick. He touched the prince shoulder and smiled. Serving him was her great pleasure. She was near him; nothing matters.
The prince woke up and saw clarity. He saw this in the eyes of the page, in those blue eyes that tell everything. He realized then he needed no one. Founding a bride was foolish. She was here… all along.
The next day, the palace held another party. But this time, the prince did not ask the page to tell those who cared to hear. The page was by his side, she of simple beauty, and preparing for the wedding for them to live happily ever after.
- Location:up
- Mood: geeky
- Music:sleeps with butterflies- tori amos
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