hi. i'm april, you can call me apay.
when i was a child, i wanted to be an actress and change my name to tamara. when playing house, my sisters and i had pretend boyfriends; mine was named john. (who knew?) i prefer writing in lowercase letters. no, i don't pretend to be e.e. cummings, and no, it's not because i don't know the proper grammatical rules. i just think it's more aesthetically pleasing. in 3rd grade, i won 1st place in a storytelling contest. i also got a 99% on my report card. as a reward, i got a white mouse. i named him nibbles. i've always loved telling stories, not because i was any good in telling them, but because i've been told i was overdramatic. my cousins all think so. maybe i am. i easily gasp and gape and gawk and gawp; i complain and exaggerate and whine and pine; i pout and frown and i cry at movies. imagine anyone crying at con air. i did. i am 26. people say i look older than i actually am. consolation is, i've always looked 26 since i was 12.
i still believe that there are good things in the world. and good people, very good people. i believe in God. i believe everything happens for a reason. a good reason. i love not in dreaming big, but dreaming real. i believe that if you love what you do, success and happiness will follow. i believe success is not measured by money. i strongly believe you cannot conquer what you do not see. sometimes, i can't believe how blessed i am.
i was born in cagayan de oro city, philippines, sometime around 4 a.m. on april 16, 1983, the same day muhammad ali was born and that chick from so close. i have three sisters, my achi mia who died 9 years ago, and my two other diva-esque younger sisters, pebbles the music-minded fashionista, and peanut the introspective introvert. i am 90% chinese, but speak to me in straight chinese and i swear i'll pretend i didn't hear you. it's such a shame really. i never paid any attention to my teachers in chinese school. i mean who would if you had a teacher who says "soldier" when meaning to say "shoulder". talk of screwing up the parts of the human anatomy. my extended family is no brady bunch. come to a gathering and you feel like you're in one of joy luck club's dinner potlucks. spaghetti right beside a hot pot of see boot soup. most of my family are chinese, and i have a few distant relatives living in xiamen. my goal is to be able to go to mainland china right after i take the bar. that would be an awesome reward. i want to visit china first before dreaming to travel anywhere else in the world. my second dream is a trip to jerusalem. no pun intended. i grew up in a very pleasant neighborhood. but i never got around to befriending any of the neighborhood kids while growing up, not even close enough to remember any of their names, ever since one of them broke my sister's bike.
"recently, i've been pondering over my goals." i want to share God with people. maybe preach. i want to help build houses for the poor. i want to be able to send an orphan to school anonymously. i want to open a quaint bookshop that tells children's stories every 4 o'clock, much like "the shop around the corner". i want to help people see how beautiful life with God is. i want to learn to paint again. i want to learn to speak french and spanish for john, and chinese for me. i want to open a diner with my sister, with jukeboxes and rollerskates. i want to open an obscure and eccentric restaurant in our front yard much like cebu's arano's, yet with a touch of kahayag's music and eccentric patrons. i want to have children and teach them how to speak smart, and dance and sing and paint with their fingers, and be good at math (because i never was). i want a beach house perched on top of a mountain, with windows for walls (think life is a house meets something's gotta give) . i want to take care of my parents as they've taken care of me. i want to make money and not only think of myself. i want to keep falling in love with the same person everyday.
i fancy myself a media fiend. literature and film and music and art fascinate me, but i'm nowhere close to "cultured". i've dabbled in all areas -- scribbling poetry, attempting a play, choreographing a dance, playing the piano, and swirling a paintbrush -- but the downside is i feel like i never know enough about one medium. i'm a frustrated manythings. i don't know what i'm really good at, and i don't plan to trouble myself by asking. besides, as i recall one person wrote, that's more of a first-date topic that you and i might share over a cup of coffee.
"i have no illusions about my imperfections. i am a mess, seriously. i am moody and picky and antsy and careless and lazy and self-absorbed and vain. i am horrible with names. i am a snob. "i judge books by their covers, and sometimes i judge people that way, too." i seldom smile. i don't laugh easily, but when i do you know it's sincere. not to mention that you're REALLY funny. sometimes i laugh by myself when i recall a hilarious anecdote. it's just embarrassing. i can be a bitch sometimes, too.
i swore to myself i would never start a blog, convinced i could never keep it up, alas i am drawn by the impulse that i need to write, and more often.
"to you, this might seem like a bunch of useless facts--places, numbers, names. to me, it's just the stuff in between the air i breathe & the moments i seek. it's just part of me & my life."
compliments to c. castro
