Confessions


On the time I first learned the second meaning of sandwich.

It was sophomore year. I’m quite sure on that.  It was during HE class, we were in the T.H.E. room waiting for the next group to prepare for their cooking assignment.

I was sitting quietly in one corner of the table when Elise (I just have to mention names to validate my experience) went near me and asked me if I had a “sandwich”. My first thought was: My Gosh! Didn’t recess just end 5 minutes ago.

I apologized and told her that my sandwich has already spread on it. Geesh. Imagine the double meaning behind that. She then said, “Oh, it’s your time of the month too—eh? It’s not for me anyways, it’s for N (not mentioning her name, you would have to guess…but that wouldn’t be too hard).”

It was then I realized that the english vocabulary was made more difficult by these filipinos who give double meanings to simple words.

On my first day of menstruation.


This is definitely exciting. My first menstruation was on January 1 of my sixth grade. And look, an hour from now and it will be january 1! What memories!!

Okay, so January 1. I went to the CR the next morning and I found this strange brown blot on my underwear. I thought that was odd—-then I flustered thinking it was probably poop I failed out to clean after doing my business. EMBARRASSING. But then the second day, there it is again! I was beginning to think I was sick—-having problems with my bowel (it won’t be the first time, right?).

But then after looking at the sanitary napkin in our family room—I realized this must be it!! the answer to my prayers—-the one last proof that I am actually a female!!!

You can’t believe how many times I debated to myself on what gender I belong to. Sure, I had long hair—-but men can have long hair if they want to, right? (I was thinking of this power ranger guy who wore the green suit…he had the long hair). We’re drifting farther away from the subject—-oh well. that’s life.

On my first pregnancy scare.

Don’t get freaked out.

This was during my 2nd grade. It was lunchtime (at that time, I eat lunch in school). Me, R and N (won’t mention their names, they may get to read this—-or someone might identify them) were playing catch. Actually, THEY were playing catch. I refuse to touch a ball, it is actually very attracted to my head—in a bad way. Balls have hit my head too many times…no wonder I think like this.

So, they were playing with the ball. And in one time, the ball skittered its way to me. R (clue: he is a male) moved towards me—but he didn’t seem to retrieve the ball. HE was running towards me….puckering his lips—–KISSING (urgh, hadn’t he heard of cooties?)!!

Anyways, blame my being human that the rest was blurry. I didn’t sure if I got kissed—where I got kissed (lips, cheeks, forehead?). But I did dread for a few weeks. I was afraid I was pregnant with an-almost “kiss”. In class, I felt like I wasn’t the only one menstruating…well..I wasn’t alone actually. But knowing that I was “kissed” or supposedly kissed, it set me apart!!!
Gosh, we should have been taught of sex education at that time. It would have saved me the nerves.

I only discovered HOW we get pregnant during second year high school—-boy that was traumatic. I was like: That’s it? So that’s the reason we have different *toot*?

THE END>

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