The Fetal Diaries #25: Sixteen years.

Posted by kristine on April 13th, 2008 | Categorized as Blog | 218 views and 4 Comments

For a sixteen year old, I think I’m pretty lucky, despite the occasional crap treatment I get from certain people in my life.. I was just pondering things over, looking at friends’ Facebook pics, laughing at my tan back then, listening to old songs that give me that feeling of nostalgia. Okay, so as some of you already know, I have been moping around in my room for probably about 24 hours now because of family issues, leaving only to eat and for the washroom, showers, etc. But I have been on my bed for the majority of the day. Now, if you didn’t already know, doing so gives you a lot of time to think. I’ve tried reading the rest of ‘The Pillars of the Earth’ by Ken Follett and I’ve finally finished reading all 973 pages (after reading on and off for about a month..) and I’ve texted a couple of people (and for some reason, I can’t seem to send messages to Neha’s new number in Rome) and listened to music non-stop until my cellphone finally died - it’s now recharging. I only sneaked into my sister’s room when nobody was there, and stole the laptop because I was overly bored and my brain was thinking waaaaay too much about the past. Then I wander off into tckid, and here I am rambling… Anyways, back to topic.

As I was saying, during the 24 hours I was in my room, acting all hermit-y, a lot of thoughts came to me. First: I am one lucky kid. Like, some kids here in Canada that I know don’t even have passports, and don’t know the use for them. Right before that, I always thought that everyone needed passports. Of course, in the back of my head, I knew it wasn’t mandatory.. but still, I always felt that a passport was an essential part of life. What would I do without it? I now think about my very first passport picture.. my gag reflex is kicking in. And visas. I mean, sure it’s just some weird thing stamped (or glued or whatever) onto a page in your passport, but having a new visa on my green Philippines passport - visit, or residence, etc. - makes me feel very happy. I have no idea why. I really do like looking at all of them though, especially the UAE residence one.. I laugh when I try to read my name written in arabic. My last name, instead of Vasquez, is turned into Faskeez (Arabic doesn’t have V in the alphabet). Yes, I can read arabic quite well.. Yes, yes. I now pat myself in the back.

Now, second thing my mind wandered off to: the experiences I’ve had at a young age. When I was in the Philippines, I went to a private school, so there were some kids that would occasionally travel out of the country, and there would be the rare foreigners going to my school, usually the halfers. Then I was sent off to the UAE, pushed into an international school, taught French, Arabic, and of course, English (although I have been speaking English since I can’t remember). My vacations could be at some nearby city, like most kids in Canada do, but my parents usually shipped me off the places like Singapore, and Malaysia and Thailand. I mean, a lot of my friends growing up spent Christmas and summer vacations outside the country, and so did I. I was raised thinking travelling, being immersed into a totally different culture all the time, was normal. I thought seeing camels from the balcony was normal. I thought learning 3 languages in a school was normal. Apparently not, I realised, after I moved to Calgary, Canada. There were some kids that were as well travelled as I was, but the huge majority wasn’t. The farthest most of them have gone to was the province next to Alberta, or to the US or Mexico if they were lucky enough. Then, moving into Fort McMurray, a small city north of Calgary, and you hear about kids without passports. If my dad had sent me off here before Calgary, I would’ve fainted. I know I sound stupid and ignorant and everything, but that is the reality, haha.

As I laugh at my ignorance, I now move to the third thought I had today: I have so many issues. Honestly, I do. Like, commitment issues.. friendship.. family.. school. Lots and lots of them. I’m not heartless, or stupid, or mean, but I can’t seem to forgive people easily, especially recently. It’s like, the smallest things, I argue about, and end up not talking to people for that stupid argument. Especially with my family. Blah, I’m too proud, I sometimes think.. And yes, that’s the reason why I’m not leaving my room. And I can’t set my mind on one thing. I try to focus on school, but I can’t. I can’t even get myself to do that gym project (sposed to have been handed in a week ago) that will affect my final mark GREATLY. Yeah, I can’t even do that. And, iunno if it’s just me being a teenager, but nothing makes me feel better than rebelling. Like, skipping classes, and other stupid stuff. And I know they’re stupid things, but I cannot get ahold of myself. I have to do something against the rules at least once a week. Maybe I have some disorder.. aie.

GAAAH, WHY AM I THINKING SO MUCH?!

And why do I feel bad about what I do?! Aish, I’m really moody today, I’m sorry.

Yes, this is what goes on in my foetus brain. It’s quite random, I know. It’s like this everyday, every hour I’m conscious.. it never stops, and it bugs me. I have so many things in my brain, and they come and go, and by the end of the day, I’d be exhausted mentally that I come to the point when I ramble about things, like I’m doing now. But anyways, I’m tired, and my sister just barged in to tell me to eat. Of course, I pretended to ignore her, but now my stomach is yelling at me, reprimanding me for not feeding it now. Pizza doesn’t seem to satisfy anymore. That’s just sad…. well rant over.

Love, Kristine aka fetus.

Born in the Philippines, then lived in Abu Dhabi, UAE for almost 4 years. Immigrated to Calgary, Canada (one of the most, if not THE most diverse city in Canada), but lives even farther north now (where it seems to be the opposite of Calgary).