Review of "A Secret Life of Bees" by Sue Monk Kidd

A SECRET LIFE OF BEES ★★★★☆

by Sue Monk Kidd

"If you need something from somebody always give that person a way to hand it to you."

This book is a gem. I read this as a late commemoration for the women's month, and it certainly was a fitting choice. It was very beautifully written too, not so artsy, not too simply: just right for a fourteen-year-old narrator. I can't point out what exactly it is that I like about A Secret Life of Bees. Was it the plot, the characters, or the symbolism? I found the constant appearance of quite endearing, it was as if I could hear the buzzing sound and see the whirring motion myself.

I can't say that I like Lily, sometimes I found her too unpredictable. But then again, I commend Sue Monk Kidd for being able to depict her accurately, based from her age. But certainly, I'd admit that she wasn't the most amazing heroine out there. If there's a character that I like, it must be August, or even more so, the calendar sisters in their entirety. I think I need not elaborate more on why I love those women. 

Perhaps, it was the story itself that got me going. While I was still at the beginning of the novel and still had about more than a hundred pages left to read, I was wondering, what more could happen in the span of those pages? After reaching Tiburon, South Carolina, what interesting thing could take place? The normalcy of the events was beautiful in itself; I was being exposed to a different time and a different culture. It was a wonderful reading experience.

Indeed, right after I read this, I felt so empowered as a young woman.

How on earth did I end up as a physics major?

If my thirteen year old self would have the chance to see me now, almost six years later, I think she would be completely dubious of the whole scenario - she would laugh incessantly at the unlikely possibility of pursuing a science degree, of being a student of the most prestigious university in the country, and many more. She would say that perhaps parallel universes do exist, and mine was just this distant and rather improbable future that she would never undertake.

I can't blame her. Even now, I still feel like I'm only trapped inside a lucid dream, that all of these things happening to me are merely a part of my imagination. Believe me when I say I had never ever considered the possibility of being a physics student. Not even in a curious fancy did it occur at the back of my mind. 

Dreams of an artistic career

My first dream was to be an architect because I loved drawing, which later evolved into interior designing as I reached my teenage years. I would spend hours in front of the television watching various designing programs at the Lifestyle network. However, when my friend showed me one of the plates of her sister, an interior design student, the reality suddenly assaulted me in the face with a sting. I knew I could never draw like that. I didn't have that kind of talent. Just because of that single seemingly trivial event, I began to dismiss the idea of becoming a designer. Maybe, just maybe, if I hadn't seen that amazing artwork, I'm already an interior design student right now. (Not that I'm blaming her, but really, you can't help thinking of the things that could have been, but didn't.)

But I tested myself. I chose Bachelor of Fine Arts major in Painting as my second choice in the University of Santo Tomas, curious to know whether I'd actually pass the talent test. And boy, did I pass.

Dreams of a writing and a literary career

Aside from being an artist, I have always been a writer, having started at the age of ten. Back then I wrote poetry and a thousand unfinished novels in Filipino, but four years later, I began writing exclusively in English. 

When I was twelve years old, I got inspired by a certain Korean drama (and by my sister as well) to become a reporter. For some reason, though, I forgot about this as the beautiful possibility of being an artist when I grew up flooded my mind. But as I said, the said dream immediately disintegrated. It was also during that period when I was starting to become passionate in writing. I realized, hell, why don't I become a writer? I learned that a degree program called BA Creative Writing actually existed in the University of the Philippines-Diliman, and I was so giddy and filled with such intense excitement like never before. 

Then, I learned how slim my chances were of being accepted in the prime university, that I made BA Literature a substitute course. After all, it was more prevalent in other universities. Later on, this evolved into journalism. This change was primarily brought about by my mother, who told me that taking up literature would make me poor. 

All of this was reflected in some of my course choices later on: AB Literature (first choice in UST), BA Creative Writing (second choice in UP Diliman), and BS Development Communication (first choice in UP Los Baños).

Dreams of a career in the international scene

This dream of mine occupied my mind the same time the two mentioned above were being considered as prospects. I had always been fascinated with learning foreign languages. I was ten years old when I first tried to study a language on my own; back then, it was Japanese. When I was twelve, I formally took Chinese Mandarin lessons for two years. As the years passed by, I also found interest with European languages. In fact, I have bought books on Italian, French, and Spanish. I remember that one summer where I spent the majority of the vacation watching Youtube videos on learning French. It was time well spent. I want to learn Russian too someday.

Because I also loved traveling, I suddenly had this dream of becoming a stewardess. It seemed like the most amazing job. To better aid me in my dream career, I opted to take up a degree in tourism or in travel management. But, judging by the events that transpired in my life thus far, this dream didn't last as well. Good thing I realized that if there was one thing I am not and will never be, it's to be sociable. For someone to become a stewardess, she needs a pleasing personality and a gift of gab - two things I so obviously lacked.

Discovering geology

I think I discovered that BS Geology existed the summer before my fourth year high school. I was browsing through the courses in the UPCAT form, and somehow this caught my eye. Of course I had a smattering about what geology was, but it was too rare a course that it made me somewhat interested. I began surfing the internet to learn more about the program, and I was stunned.

It was the course that I had been looking for all my life.

I was eleven years old when I stumbled upon something on my science book: paleontologist. There was a short description of its work and I fell in love with it almost immediately. Later on, I thought it was under archaeology, so I told my mom I wanted to pursue that course when I grew up. Once more, though, she told me I had no future as an archaeologist. As simple as that, I had already swiftly dismissed the idea.

In my free time too, I'd find myself burying my head in the library, reading about nature, about the earth, and a great deal about volcanoes.

Since that fateful day in summer, I vowed to myself that I would become a geologist no matter what.

Deciding my future

So my fourth year of high school finally arrived.

I took entrance exams in three schools, namely (my course choices are also stated):

1. University of the Philippines
    Diliman: BS Geology, BA Creative Writing
    Los Baños: BS Development Communication, BA Communication Arts
2. University of Santo Tomas: AB Literature, BFA-Painting
3. Mapua Institute of Technology: BS Geological Engineering & Geology, BS Geology

I qualified for both UST and Mapua. For the latter, I was even chosen for the E.T. Yuchengco scholarship, though I only learned about this during the following summer, when I had already dismissed the idea of studying in the said school. I took the exam in UST, as I've said, mainly as a challenge for my skills.

Anyway, during my fourth year highschool, while I had been telling everyone who asked that I planned to study in Mapua, deep inside it was killing me because I wanted nothing but UP. I had been surfing the internet on numerous stories regarding the university and I fell in love with it, so much so that I began to tell myself, "UP or nothing." However, I didn't trust myself enough and I knew it was implausible for someone like me to qualify there.

January came.

And I actually passed.

But instead of rejoicing, I found myself silently weeping. I didn't make the cut for UP Diliman. What about my dreams of becoming a geologist? Nevertheless, I chose UPLB (BS Development Communication) over Mapua because I wanted to be a UP student. Only that.

First year as a UP student

If you've been following my blog, I suppose you already know this story. About 25% of my blog revolves around this. It would be too tiresome to narrate everything, so let me just give you the gist. Basically, it went like this: for the entire first semester, I was keen on transferring to UP Diliman the next academic year. However, during the start of the semestral break, I thought that perhaps DevCom might not be too bad after all. Thus I decided to stay.

Or so I thought.

All of a sudden my desire to become a science major rushed in again. My dreams of studying in UP Diliman as a geology student came back. And it stayed like that for the rest of the second semester, and the majority of the summer.

Becoming a physics major

When I was processing my papers for transferring to UP Diliman, I only applied for one college, College of Science. My course choices went like this (in order): BS Geology, BS Applied Physics, and BS Physics. It's pretty funny how the remaining two courses ended up like that. I think the main reason is, those are the only two courses wherein I could apply, since I didn't come from a science course. Perhaps, if the National Institute of Physics was stricter with the requirements, I wouldn't be what I am right now. Oh, the possibilities.

When I chose those two, I was planning to shift to BS Geology right after the next academic year. The idea of being a physics major terrified me, although I'd admit, it actually seemed pretty cool and amazing. During the summer, I spent some of my time reviewing my high school physics, because I thought such questions might arise in the interview. During that time, I seemed to have forgotten my interest for geology. While I was in fourth year, I never seriously studied for my physics exams, but when I studied then, I was thoroughly astonished, thinking that I wanted to master the so-called "most basic of all sciences" one day. Even more so, I thought it was utterly amazing to be able to perform all those calculations and mathematical manipulations, to spend hours just trying to solve one problem, and so on (or so I thought).

I was under the impression that physics was one of the most difficult degree programs, but then again, I thought that maybe I could survive if I studied hard. I considered shifting to BS Applied Physics in UPLB, primarily because of the Astrophysics lab. If there was a streak of being a scientist in me back when I was still young, I think it would be attributed to my love for dinosaurs and astronomy. Anyway, when I was comparing the curriculum of Applied Physics between UPLB and UPD, I thought the latter was much cooler.

Then came the orientation and interview.

If I remember correctly, the interview for physics came first, though it wasn't really an interview, in the truest sense of the word. We were merely given sheets of paper with several questions, most of them were multiple choice. I answered everything honestly, and when I say honestly, I really mean it. There was this question, and it went on like this: "If you got accepted here in NIP, do you plan to shift to another course?" Underneath, there was a statement written which said that we just had to be honest and they wouldn't be prejudiced, regardless of our answer. I believed them, and I admitted I planned to shift. Yes, I was still so intent on becoming a geology student.

A couple of days later, the orientation for geology finally arrived. The entire time, all my hopes of being a geologist disintegrated, and I upbraided myself for the stupid idea of believing I was qualified. There were over hundreds of aspirants back then, and only twenty five would be accepted. I basically had no chance. All of a sudden, I realized it. It was so simple.

I could never be a geologist  (aside from the aforementioned reasons, there were personal reasons too that I kept on trying to ignore). I realized the best option for me was to take up physics.

Just like that, I realized that I wanted to be a physics student.

But it wasn't easy to try reaching that goal.

First of all, I already told you about my messed-up "interview" for physics. Then, to make things worse, I didn't have a back-up plan. I failed to process the papers for shifting to applied physics in UPLB. It's an understatement if I say that I couldn't sleep every night and that I was always haunted by the grim possibilities that awaited me. I was pretty depressed, even my parents were begging me to be more cheerful.

You know how it all ended up, of course.

Despite everything, NIP gave me a chance and accepted me as a physics student.

And from there, my journey started.

Review of "Fight Club" by Chuck Palahniuk

FIGHT CLUB ★★★☆☆

by Chuck Palahniuk

All right. I don't know what to feel about this one. Did I like it? Was it amazing? Did it annoy me? I certainly don't know how to answer these questions. It took me a long time to read this because of college stuff, but I would admit: several instances I didn't feel like picking this up and read it for leisure. I don't know. The gist of the novel just wasn't fit for relaxation, as you might well know.

Why did I give it three stars then?

The conclusion of the novel decided that for me. And, of course, the fact that Fight Club is unlike other stories that I've encountered before. The narrator was a bundle of contradictions, which is shown in the style with which he told the story. Gritty, crisp; sometimes harboring innocence. Sometimes mischief. All I'm certain of is that the whole thing was very confusing indeed.

Fight Club started out very quickly. As a reader, you'd feel the tension as the narrator neared toward his destruction. And then, all of a sudden, you are grabbed back and forth through time and through different places. Most of the time what happened in between didn't make sense. But I read on, hoping to scavenge something extraordinary in this roller coaster ride of a novel, only to find violence, violence, bad ass characters, and more chaotic adventures. I felt like everything was simply turning round and round and that the plot wasn't going anywhere.

As I've mentioned, I was only starting to like it when I was nearing the end. By then it wasn't just about violence and Marla and Tyler - other people were starting to be a part of the scenario. It wasn't merely revolving on Joe mumbling about Tyler and his escapades - they were actually doing things together (like that thing at the hotel). Especially at the part when people were starting to call the narrator Tyler and he didn't have the faintest idea why. I would commend Chuck Palahniuk for the way he decided to weave the conclusion of the novel. Most of the things mentioned at the beginning of the novel were starting to make sense. 

Apparently, though, it didn't make the novel less confusing. Admittedly, I would say I have more questions than answers after reading Fight Club.

Failure

Okay. Breathe. Calm down. It's not the end of the world.

But the sensation is so new to me that I can't help feeling depressed, as if there isn't any chance anymore for me to recover. A day has already passed, but still I can't move on and try to forget about it. Pray tell, what am I supposed to do to feel better?

Relax. Okay.

I failed an exam. Sure, I already failed one before, but it was only a GE subject; and somehow, a miracle happened and I managed to get a flat uno when the sem ended. But this time, it's a different story. Suffice it to say that this is probably the first time that this has ever happened to me.

I know I studied. I spent hours in the library skimming through the thick hardbound book until my back ached, until I had grown sleepy. However, I do know one thing as well - I kind of crammed for two days or so, which I hardly did anymore ever since I reached college. And heck, chemistry really isn't the type of subject that someone like me should cram. I have absolutely zero idea about chemistry when I entered UP Diliman as a physics major. Stupid, stupid me. Not that I'm putting the blame to someone else, but I know too that the org application as affected this sudden turn of events. 

The score in my first exam was average, and that is not making me confident at all. When the sem started, I was aiming for at least a dos, but now that goal seems too far-fetched. 

To make things worse, it's our second long examination in physics a while ago, and I had quite a lot of careless mistakes it's beginning to stress me out. I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm not really molded to be a scientist. What a waste of effort, time, and money.I really felt like dropping out of college yesterday. Exaggerated, I know. But if you never failed an exam you wouldn't know the feeling.

However, if there is one positive thing that emerged out of this problem, it's that I suddenly came to value my studies even more. The "me" at the beginning of the semester was returning, back then majority of the time I would study nightly for the lesson that day. Admittedly, that habit has wholly vanished when 2014 came - I'd go to Chem 16 class without having studied at all, despite the fact that we have a DG (quiz) that day. I never understood anything about the lessons until I started studying for the exam. I know it's my fault. For one thing, I really never listened to the lecture class and would end up napping or doodling or writing.

Lesson learned. 

A while ago, the change in me has come. For the first time ever, I reviewed the previous lecture, so I would come prepared to class tomorrow. In fact, I might as well study in advance.

P.S. Good thing the standing in Math 54 came out and it gave me a burst of hope. My standing is 1.00. And the most ironic thing is that, I rarely study for this subject. It's time to change that, though, before I regret in the end.

Worst day ever.

Yes, you read the title right. Last semester, I dubbed a particular day as the worst as well, but today is taking it on a wholly different level. In fact, I have a feeling this won't end up to this day only. Monday has been very mean to me as well. So would Wednesday through Friday be, I'm certain.

Okay. Although I'm aware no one really visits and read my blog, I won't share the details of what transpired this day, and more particularly, how I felt about them. It would be too dangerous, lest anyone I know suddenly stumbled upon my blog.

What's making everything even worse is that my heart problem or whatever that I had about five years ago is coming back, in the most untimely moment. All of a sudden I would find it very hard to catch my breath, my heart is palpitating...I'm basically breathless. It can be very terrifying sometimes, I'm telling you. And - I know this will sound so weird and overly dramatic - sometimes I'd have this feeling like I'm about to die or something. God. I'm so messed up.

While I was still at school, I wanted so bad to write and my imagination was overflowing and I had about a thousand ideas for short stories. I wanted to cry and try to find some space and breathe, breathe, breathe...to stay away from people and read a good book or drink a warm cup of coffee. Apparently my options were so limited. I had a practical exam in the org I was applying for so I just couldn't try to refrain from "socializing". I just wanted to avoid people then. Even worse, someone said a bad thing straight to my face because I was being "maarte" or something. I don't know. I hate everything. I want to give up. I wanted to cry but I had classes. I tried to text some of my friends and give a hint that I was feeling bad and needed someone to talk to, but I was merely made fun of. God. Really, no one can actually comfort you when you're in need, no one can really help so I might as well shut up and keep things to myself. That's something I learned from high school. I have to bear that in mind always.

Worst day ever?

I think not.

There's still tomorrow, apparently.

Experiment 11: Unknown Analysis

This day has been awesome. No, in fact, this whole week had been a blast. Despite all my awkwardness and everything, I can say that I enjoyed these past few days because, well, it was amazing. I would surely like to rattle off about how this week went, but due to time constraints, I'll just be sharing about one relevant thing that transpired today - the unknown analysis.

I have a Chem 16 class every Wednesdays and Fridays at 7 AM. Last night I went home by 10 PM from the tambayan. I tried to finalize the assignment for chemistry and to be more productive, but I was so tired my eyes wouldn't stay open. I had no choice but to sleep. I awoke by half-past one (which was an hour late from the time I set in the alarm), did the assignment, prepared for the experiment, and slept at 4 AM. I set the alarm to 5:30 AM, but I was stunned when I awoke (after turning off the snooze numerous times), that it was already 6:30 AM, for goodness's sake. It was the first time that I had woken up that late. Good thing, I was able to leave the dormitory by 5 minutes to 7 AM. Our professor was a bit late, so I was safe. However, I was beginning to be very frantic by then. Today is Unknown Analysis day, and although I had prepared by scanning the manual and so, I was still terrified. I want to love chemistry, it's super cool, so much so that I initially planned to major in materials physics. But heck, it can be very difficult, and to someone who went to college with zero knowledge in the subject, it was even worse. I know I suck in this subject; good thing I passed the first exam with satisfactory results.

Okay. The experiment was a joke. After performing the cation test, I was able to limit my choices between zinc and calcium, since precipitate formed upon addition of NaOH. Upon performing the confirmatory test, formation of precipitate occurred again so I was certain I got Zinc. For the anion test, there was no visible reaction upon the addition of barium nitrate, so sulfate, phosphate, and carbonate were ruled out. After performing another test, it all went down to SCN and nitrate. God, I didn't want to perform the brown ring experiment. My solution looked weird; I mean, I didn't really achieve the colors that SCN or nitrate was supposed to have. However, I thought the solution looked peach (which it was supposed to be if it had SCN) and the toluene layer was colorless so I assumed thiocyanate was present. I approached my professor and was about to have my first guess...

...And he told me I got both guesses wrong.

I had never felt so inadequate in my life. I tried the elimination tests again for cation, and was able to rule out Ammonium. In the end, after several trials, I went to our professor and convinced him that there was zinc in my solution.

"Sir, precipitate formed upon addition of ammonia, so it's zinc. Precipitate also formed upon adding NaOH."

He surveyed my test tube and said, "Add some excess ammonia and observe whether the precipitate will dissolve."

It did. It must mean that there really is some zinc present. Fast forward, it turned out that there was some confusion involved. He said that he never told me zinc wasn't there. I replied that he said both of my guesses were wrong, so of course zinc was. Our professor admitted the existence of zinc and I felt so cheated since I repeated everything just to be sure.

The next problem would be the anion. If it weren't SCN, it had to be nitrate. I knew this, and yet I repeated the elimination and confirmatory tests because I didn't want to perform the brown ring experiment (the 18 M sulfuric acid sounded so menacing). But I was left with no choice so I performed it using my solution which already had the toluene layer, as was advised by my classmate. I was so ecstatic that the brown ring appeared, but in the end the process was wrong and I should have used a fresh solution. Sadly, upon doing so, nothing appeared.

I lamented this to our professor and he told me to repeat the experiment. Obviously, there really was nitrate on my solution. I just had to show him some proof. I repeated everything, to no avail. He must have pitied me because he said that there was indeed nitrate, but I was still lacking one more ion. I knew what it was all of a sudden, and I realized how cunningly our professor had chosen the other ion.

"Calcium," I said. He smiled and confirmed it. I was supposed to receive 15 points, but I only got 12. I'm not complaining.

High School

Last night, my friend said, "I really regret it right now. I wish I was able to spend my free time in high school wisely, doing the things that I enjoy but couldn't do now in college."

I thought about this. I suppose I couldn't really say the same thing for myself. I would admit, I was very lazy when I was still a high school student: I never studied after classes; most of the time I would do my assignments the morning before I go to school, or when I was already in school; I would only study for an exam the day before it, and so on. All I did then was read a bunch of books (Who on earth would regret doing this?). I was actually scolded more than once for being caught reading a novel while the teacher was discussing in front. Shame, I know, but hey - I loved every minute of it. Aside from that, I would spend hours surfing the net, watching anime, and reading manga. I always had something to do, and the majority of those stuff were unrelated to academics. I would practice playing the violin, I would continue writing my novel, I would start on a new story, etcetera. In a way, I was quite productive for a highschooler.

I miss those times. I haven't resumed writing my novel for almost a year now. Back when I was still a UPLB student during the first semester, I made sure that I would write at least a chapter a week, or every two weeks. I was very motivated, I was being a creative writer once again. But today, I don't think I'm capable of pulling off such a feat, what with the tedious and stressing second semester.

I absolutely miss watching anime continuously, as if there weren't tomorrow. I was very updated back then; but now, I am so behind several series, so much so that my brother seems to be more of an otaku than I am. I have copied a lot of animes from him, but whether I'd have the time to watch them or not is still the question.

I need to start now: watch one episode of Kuroko no Basuke, despite the fact that I still have to study for physics and math. I need something to cheer me up.