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Ever since I was a kid, the word "Ateneo" was a household term. My parents went to college in this institution; in fact, without Ateneo, they wouldn't have fallen in love, gotten married and had four children. Because we would hear this word time and again as kids, my siblings and I grew up thinking that we would one day study in this university; nowhere else.

Once I reached high school, my immediate goal was to pass the Ateneo entrance exam and major in Communication (how I decided on that course is another story). I did just that, along with procuring a minor degree in Hispanic Studies. Four years later, armed with an Ateneo diploma, I entered the world of advertising.

While I was a college senior, my brother enrolled as a college freshman. It was surreal to see him in the cafeteria and along the corridors since I went to an all-girls' high school and he went to an all-boys' high school (coincidentally, the Ateneo High School). Like me, he eventually became a Communication graduate and is now in the marketing division of one of the top television networks in the country.

The pressure then weighed heavily on our sister to go to Ateneo for college. Always a success story in the academic realm, she did pass the Ateneo exam with flying colors and sailed through life as a Management Economics major. She graduated Cum Laude and today, she works in the sales department of one of the largest multinational nutrition and wellness corporations.

Last but not the least, our youngest brother, a high school senior of -- surprise, surprise -- the Ateneo High School, found out just this weekend that he passed the college entrance exam. This June, he'll be enrolling as a freshman majoring in Philosophy, like our dad. Our very driven, very disciplined youngest has plans of becoming a lawyer someday.

There is not a day that goes by without some mention of Ateneo or anything related to this institution. We can't help it; our mom is the Director of University Communications and Public Relations and our dad is always updated on the goings-on of our basketball team. Dinner conversations at home focus on basketball games, the athletes, university events, fundraisers, notable alumni, and everything else under the sun.

Ateneo is also a topic of conversation on both sides of our family whenever we have get-togethers. Our dad's father and brothers went to the Ateneo for high school. A cousin of ours is currently a freshman majoring in Legal Management. Mom's sister is also an Ateneo Communication graduate. Other relatives on both sides of the family were also Ateneo graduates.

Also, the first Filipino rector of the Ateneo was our great grand uncle, Fr. Fritz Araneta, S.J.

Needless to say, we are very much a blue-blooded family. From the time my siblings and I were born, we were practically destined to follow in our parents' footsteps. I felt the pressure to be the first Ateneo graduate in the family (from this generation, at least), yet I wholeheartedly welcomed this opportunity. I wasn't forced into becoming an Atenean; I was one even before my first day of college. To a certain extent, my siblings feel the same way. It was expected of us to pass the ACET and enroll in this institution, yet we made the decision to study there.

Ateneo may not necessarily be the best school in the country (I'm sure other universities, especially our Maroon neighbor and Green archenemy, have valid things to say about their own institutions) but in our minds, it was a blessing to have chosen this university. We were groomed to become men and women for others just like we were given opportunities to go after our dream jobs. We learned theoretical terms like thaumazein and facticité, but we mingled with people from different walks of life and even spent time reaching out to less fortunate rural and urban communities. We took up student leadership positions in organizations and hit the books when it was time to study. We've had teachers who inspired us but we've also had "terror profs" who served as badges of honor in an "I survived *insert prof's name*" kind of way. We've found friends who we know will stick around for the rest of our lives.

Yes, we're the family decked in blue during the basketball season. You see pictures of us cheering when albums are uploaded by sports photographers. We watch replays of basketball games (and DVDs of past championship seasons, I might add) and try to catch as many of the other UAAP sporting events as well. We're there, too, at other events scattered all throughout the academic year. Bonfires, Thanksgiving Masses, outreach programs, graduations; you name it, we've been there.

We're extreme that way, yet we don't know how to be any other way.

Someday, when my siblings, cousins, and I have our own kids, we'd want them to go to Ateneo as well. But we wouldn't impose this on them. They have all the free will in the world to go after what makes them happy, regardless of university.

Because if they turn out to be anything like us, they'll come to embrace their inherent blue-bloodedness.

The Ateneo Way is our family's way, after all.

Just these last two days, I've had the privilege of witnessing a really good friend of mine embrace a new role in her life: the most challenging and most noble of professions, in my opinion.

A little over a year ago, Rej got married to Vince and soon enough, the couple started getting used to and enjoying married life. One day, after a few months of being Mrs. Siy, Rej confirmed that she was pregnant.

It wasn't always an easy pregnancy for Rej. There were times that she had to be bedridden. Towards the end of her third trimester, she spent five weeks in the hospital because of premature contractions. But she held on and with much prayer, she was able to carry her baby to full-term.

Last January 15, Sophia Alessandra was born. Rej delivered her the Lamaze way in just a few hours (a product of her mom's, Chiqui Brosas-Hahn's, Lamaze methods) and Sophie was the picture of health when she came into this world.

Now that it's officially 2012 (and I'm actually back at work; hello, desk!), I've been making plans to improve myself. No resolutions, though, because I never stick to them.

My plans for the year are simple enough that while I don't have to commit to any of them, they're pretty doable.

I feel the need to write them down so I can look at them someday and mentally tick off what I'd have accomplished by then.

Here are some of them:


1) Eat healthier. I'm a fan of food, I love carbs (pasta and sandwiches over rice any day), and I occasionally enjoy a fast food meal or two. I also prefer chips to desserts or chocolates. Now that I'm getting older (this year will be monumental because I'll be crossing over to the next decade, believe it or not) and I need to make some lifestyle changes. I won't completely eliminate my indulgences from my diet; I just need to learn how to say "no" to them more often.

2) Exercise more regularly. I can't always depend on my biking group's plans to be my only source of exercise. If I can walk/do workouts at home around thrice a week, I'll be happy.

3) Celebrate my birthday in a meaningful way. As I mentioned earlier, I'm saying goodbye to my twenties (which I'm still having a hard time accepting; hello, dekada trenta!) and I want to make this particular birthday a purposeful one. I don't know yet how I want to celebrate my birthday this year (off the top of my head, I'm thinking of probably spending an afternoon in an orphanage — still thinking/praying about it), but I want it to be different from the usual party. I want it to mean something.

4) Learn a new skill. I'm thinking of finally trying my hand at cooking, which was something I was never really interested in. However, since my mom's recipe cards are yellowing in proportion to my age, I should try them out before they fade into oblivion. After all, one of my mom's biggest frustrations is that her daughters never took after her passion for cooking. I figured that mine was a dormant passion (since I love food and cooking shows); it just needed to wake up. Now might be the time to see if I have what it takes.

5) Be a better steward of my finances. While I wouldn't consider myself a shopaholic (if not for the fact that my sister and I can borrow each other's clothes and shoes, I'd probably be repeating the same outfits every few weeks), I love my gadgets. I usually save up for one big purchase per year (last year's was my new Canon DSLR; planning to finish paying for it within the next two months). This time, I hope that I can forgo my love of gadgetry for things I should already be investing in.

6) Read more. We have new shelf space at home, and I'm planning to fill it with more books. I don't have a set number of books that I foresee myself finishing within the year, but I'm hoping to discover new authors, new writing styles, new genres.

7) In relation to No. 6, finish the Bible (which I say year in and year out). This time, I'm really praying that the Lord helps me see this through.

8) Lessen the negativity. I'm an optimistic, cheery person by nature, but one of my weaknesses is that I get impatient easily. When that happens, I have a tendency to complain. I want to get rid of these bad habits and focus on the big picture. When I have nothing nice to say, better keep quiet. I don't want others to be affected by my mood, my thoughts, my words.

Now that these plans have been listed for the world to see, I wonder what I'll be able to tick off by the end of 2012.

But I do hope that by next year, plans fulfilled or not, I'll be able to say that I made my 2012 a meaningful year. Not just for me, but for the people around me.

Let's do it, 2012!

Some years are "epic" (hate that this word is overused, but I couldn't think of a more apt one), filled with so many memories, that whenever you're asked to think of milestone years, they jump at you instantly. In my case, I know what those years are. Most recently, that would have to be my 2008. That was the year I joined a local and an international advertising competition, by God's grace performed well, and got to meet friends from so many places. The same year, my last living grandparent died. You could say that my year started on a high note and ended on a rather somber one.

Once upon a time, I was a quiet, naïve, shy, and nice little schoolgirl. When I say nice, it's not because I was angel. It's because, back then, I didn't know how to say no. I was a people-pleaser and went out of my way to do things for people, even at the expense of my own grades.

In the third grade, I remember clearly that there was a particular Science project wherein I did everything. And it was supposed to be a group project. My mom was so mad because I stayed up the night before assembling pages upon pages of reports, cutting out photos from magazines, researching, etc. And when the teacher returned the work, giving us a not-so-high grade, a groupmate of mine complained. I remember coming home crying, feeling as if I was outnumbered and abused. My mom went to the teacher the next day to tell her that I did all the work and the teacher gave me extra points; my groupmates retained that not-so-stellar grade.

It was the same in high school and college. Though I became more vocal through the years, I still assumed the responsibility of others. I used to think that I'd rather do all the work than see my grades suffer on account of my irresponsible classmates. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring myself to talk to them about it and to exclude their names from those projects I worked on. Thus, they enjoyed the fruits of my labor: usually those meant pretty high grades.

I also experienced being "stepped on" in other ways. Friends would make plans with other friends, forgetting to invite me. When I'd ask them why I wasn't invited, they would tell me, "You're not close to these people anyway."

It was very easy to make fun of me — my froggy voice that would slowly climb to 177,906 decibels whenever I'd get nervous, the awkward jock swag I used to have (since I was a competitive swimmer) — in my presence. I would laugh on the outside, but inside, I'd be depressed. Later on, when I had the opportunity to do so, I'd talk to these friends of mine about how I felt; they never realized that they hurt me the way they did. They were sincerely sorry and things went swimmingly after that.

After some time, I came to realize what this all meant. At the time, however, I had no idea what was happening. Like a little martyr, I just accepted that this was my life. I was too nice, too defenseless, even though I was taller and stronger than most of my peers.

I may not have been pushed around physically. My head may not have been dunked inside a toilet bowl. I wasn't given any derogatory nickname. I was sad, yes, but I may not have reached the point of wanting to slash myself or run away.

However, I can genuinely say that I experienced this: I did experience some form of bullying.

Why am I writing about this, you may wonder?

It's because I read about the recent death of ten-year-old Ashlynn Conner.

She was once a bubbly, bright-eyed little girl. Then she was verbally assaulted day after day by her classmates who said she was "too fat" and that she was a "sl*t". Her mom went to the teachers and the teachers told Ashlynn to stop tattling (according to other news articles).

One day, Ashlynn asked her mom if she could be home-schooled. Mom said no. I imagine that it might have been one of those casual "no's", like the response you would give a kid after asking if he could have candy before dinner.

But in a matter of hours, Ashlynn was found inside her closet. She had killed herself.

My heart goes out to poor Ashlynn and to her parents. At ten, she should have so much more to look forward to: high school, prom, her first boyfriend, college, her first job, marriage, family life. But she will never experience any of these. Her parents won't have the privilege of watching her grow up.

Bullying is one of those gray area issues because, on the outside, it seems trivial. It's easy to dismiss a child who comes home crying because someone drew on the back of her dress. "It's part of life," some might say. "You have to learn how to stand up for yourself."

On the one hand, I agree with such statements. Yes, once you get over being the victim of a bully, life suddenly opens up for you. You can walk down the halls of your school without fear of being physically abused. You can be part of spelling bees or Math contests without fear of being stereotyped a nerd. You can talk to just about anyone without fear of being ridiculed.

Some kids are lucky to have overcome the wrath of bullies.

Many, though, aren't as lucky.

These kids come home crying, wish they'd never been born, wish they were richer, wish they weren't from a rich family, wish they were prettier/more handsome, wish they weren't the brother/sister of the most popular/smartest kid in school.

Yet what they don't realize while all this is happening is oftentimes, their bullies also have insecurities. Bullies just don't know what to do with these emotions and opt to channel them differently: by preying on those they feel are weaker and unlikely to fight back.

In a perfect world, I'd talk to each and every victim and tell them that it's gonna be okay. That it'll hurt now, but that sooner or later, everyone will be forced to grow up.

That these bullies aren't worth their tears.

At the end of the day, all I want is for bullies to just stop. I know this is farfetched; I might not see this (i.e. a global anti-bullying law) in my lifetime, even. But what I do know is that there is not a single human being who deserves to be mistreated.

And I want kids like Ashlynn to feel that they aren't worthless; it may hurt now, but there is a future for them.

And this future is so, so bright.

Take it from me. I used to be a shy girl who said "yes" to everything and everyone. I used to cry because I was so different from everyone else.

But I've grown to become more independent, unique, and with a sense of purpose and direction. I may still be different from the norm (read: yes, I'm weird) but I like being me.

And those who used to intimidate me? Well, we're now friends on Facebook. Those whose projects and assignments I used to do? We're pretty good friends nowadays.

Rest in peace, Ashlynn. And may the Lord give comfort and strength to the Conner family in their time of sorrow.

As my alarm took me from Dreamland to Reality this morning, one of the first songs that entered my head was Bruno Mars' The Lazy Song. I kid you not. Especially when my brain registered the sound of rainfall dancing on the window panes.

How apt are these lyrics? Seriously.

"Today I don't feel like doing anything,
I just wanna lay in my bed."

And towards the bridge, it goes:

"No I ain’t gonna comb my hair
'Cause I ain’t going anywhere
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

I tell you, this song addresses the likes of me: those who are experts at bumming but can't be professionals 24/7 since they actually have day jobs. It's brilliant! (Insert half-hearted attempt at sarcasm.)

See, as much as I love going out on bike rides, hitting the malls, trying out new restaurants, and meeting up with friends or hanging out with my family, sometimes, I just enjoy being a total couch potato. I'm so good at it, in fact, that I can spend hours in the same position (i.e. back against the headboard). The only thing that would change over time would be what I'm doing (i.e. first hour, read; second hour, watch TV; third hour: go online via my iPhone; fourth hour: go back to my book).

Honestly, if things went my way (i.e. work for 10 hours a day for four days and have three-day weekends), I would be in bed right now and not in front of a computer.


But for those who do have the privilege of enjoying this rainy, cloudy day, let me share with you why bumming at home rocks:

1) No one cares how you look. Your family will forgive you if your hair's all over the place and/or oily; they've seen you at your worst. If you decide to wear your PJ's all day, that's fine, too. Your MACs and Bobbi Browns can take a break, too.

2) You won't have to spend a single centavo. Whenever you go out, even if it's just to "cool off" at the mall or go on a bike ride, you will be shelling out some dough. Temptations such as a Quarter Pounder or even something as cheap as a bottle of Gatorade will call out your name. Trust me. Meanwhile, at home, you can just reheat the leftovers from last night's dinner and, voila, there's your lunch. Don't forget the fact that you can enjoy the latest movies at home (weekends are there for you to hoard DVDs in advance) and keep yourself updated when it comes to TV shows (if you're an Internet junkie, you'll know how that works). Plus, all your books will be vying for your attention.

3) You create your own schedule. Unless you called your secretary to say that you're available to work from home (meaning, you're at your officemates' beck and call), you're pretty much your own boss for the day. If you want to wake up at 11 am and take another nap at 1 pm, that's totally fine. No one will be calling you up every half hour to ask for an update on that project you need to submit. There won't be any email invites flooding your inboxes to invite you to so-and-so meeting. Heck, if you decide to stare off into space for a full hour, that's totally up to you.

4) You allow yourself to get to know... yourself. Sometimes, it's during these quiet, solitary, lazy moments that I allow myself to think. I obviously can't while I'm at work. I enjoy the peacefulness that being alone at home brings. I say bursts of prayers every now and then, I think about Life in General whenever the thought hits me, and I even make plans for the future. I think about vacations that I've yet to take, I reflect on the relationships I have with people. Heck, you can even talk to yourself when you want to (monologue preferred; if you dialogue with yourself, I'm not too sure about that). Where else can you do all these but at home? Not even the serenity of coffee shops can give you this much freedom to think this way.

5) It's just nice to stop and smell the roses. I like being busy since I've always been an active person. I thrive on last-minute deadlines; in fact, I work better and more efficiently if I only have a day or two to do a project. I also enjoy keeping an active lifestyle (i.e. biking, exercising, meeting up with my different sets of friends, etc.). But I know that I reach certain breaking points at times. And whenever this happens, I need to "thaw". This means allowing my body to calm down and get back on track. I appreciate days when I can be lazy and rest because I allow myself to get recharged. I know, then, that I'll be able to give more of myself the next time around.

So, if you're stuck at home because of the weather, don't fret. Savor lazy days like these for they don't happen all too often.

Enjoy!

I'd always joked in the past that I was a frustrated Amazing Race contestant. If I had the stamina for it, I would've signed up a long time ago. Alas, my body's immune system (or lack, thereof), coupled with the fact that my asthma slows me down, will forever discourage me from doing so. 'Til the Lord allows someone to discover a cure for asthma, I'll have to resort to watching others compete in the show and live vicariously through their experiences.

However, for 24 hours or so, I got a glimpse of how it was to be a contestant on the show what with the whirlwind pace and flurry of activities that I was about to experience from November 7 to November 8, 2011.

My relatives on my mom's side (at least those who've been living in the United States and Canada) all flew in over the course of the last few weeks in time for what would have been my grandfather's 100th birthday. Once upon a time, Godofredo P. Ramos was the governor of the province of Aklan. Today, he is widely regarded as the Father of Aklan after having given the province its own identity and independence from its neighboring province, Capiz.

With that, the whole clan was invited to fly to Kalibo, Aklan's capital, for a major celebration on the 8th of November.

A day earlier, however, my mom, brother, my aunt Grace and I flew to the world famous Boracay for a bit of fun under the sun. My brother, Chuck, had never been to Boracay (it's ironic, I know, given our roots, that our family doesn't get to travel to Boracay/Aklan as much as we should) so we decided to give him a taste of the Boracay experience. Even for just a few hours.

Naturally, he had a blast.









The following day, the four of us found ourselves in Kalibo, which is a little under two hours away from Boracay. We then joined our other relatives who had arrived in Kalibo a day earlier.

The morning started with a mass at the cathedral. It was a "full house"!