Little Miss Mundane (Or Not)

It’s a beautiful Tuesday morning and instead of waking up to greet the bright sunshine peeking through my bedroom window, I jump out of bed, run straight to my bathroom, and cough out my insides like there’s no tomorrow. Behold the sickly giant that is me, applaud the unwillingness of my body to react to the medications I’ve taken.  I swear if only I had my way around here, I’d be off to my first 2011 run to finally lose this weight I’ve been lugging around since college started. But then again, when did my ‘active’ lifestyle schemes really push through?

So my morning began with me having to heat up half of the salmon burger I failed to finish at yesterday’s dinner, a tall glass of cold Milo, popping another Bioflu pill, and 20 minutes of Harry Potter 6 in HBO. Somewhere along the lines of those minutes that passed me, it came to me that I’m living a pretty average life. It’s not that I don’t think I’m exciting enough, it’s just that I feel like I could do so much but haven’t really gotten my ass up to doing it.

Like say, work for example, or an exotic vacation in the African safari. Or maybe something as simple as an anecdote that begins with “Remember that crazy night in Sophomore year?” Nope, I haven’t gotten any of that in my list.

So there goes my heavy, 5’7″ self switching the television off and heading to her room to begin this entry out of a ‘bugso ng damdamin’ (There’s no other way to phrase it, believe me – I’ve tried). And, with my laptop’s speed as fast as the oldest Galápagos turtle, I quickly snapped away a photo of the earrings Mom got me last night.

I especially love the dove-shaped pair!

So where was I? Oh, right. Harry Potter.

Sitting in front of the boob-tube led me to daydreaming about what my life could have become if I was a little more reckless — you know, the typical roller coaster kids my age ought to be doing. Parties, alcohol, and going home at 2am just like how the movies portray my generation to be (and just like how my generation actually is) may have tinted my existence a few hues darker, but it never really painted a single stroke.

I am not a party-alcohol-2am virgin, but neither have I been a party-alcohol-2am regular. It’s always just me and a little past midnight, being the I’ll-head-out-early-goody-two-miss-no-alcohol shoes I expect myself to be and the daughter my parents have raised me to become for the past 18 years. Sometimes I imagine myself stepping out of my comfort zone and taking a bite of the carefree life. I want to, even just for a night, be able to stereotypically live out a random photo on the internet that carries some splash of ill-edited typography that reads “We are young, wild, and free.”

All these for the sole reason of wanting to be in that state of exhilaration, all these because I’d be a hypocrite if I told you I did not want sample of my supposed glory days. Although I dream of this one day of complete liberation, I also am well aware that trapped in this body is a woman who’s grown a little too fast — too fast to have ever experienced sneaking out, or something more interesting than last year’s ‘my-heart-is-so-broken’ night.

Sometimes I wish the typical teenager would involve a prototype similar to mine, with article deadlines and QPIs that fuel her adrenaline, company from family, friends or the boyfriend that keeps her sane, and occasional night-outs to make her feel uninhibited. But I guess it all boils down to the fact that this isn’t what a typical teenager is.

And perhaps, I should be glad because although I think I live a mundane teenage existence, maybe its enough consolation that I’m part of the ‘un-typical’ few.


Maybe I’ll grow up someday, maybe I won’t. But to the Kara who might read this a couple of weeks, months, or even years later — remember that you once were in this stage of not knowing where you stand. It is okay to feel awkward about most things in life. Relax, take a deep breath, and you’ll find your place in life soon enough.

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