Love confessions

Truth is I can never steal a guy from a girl. I mean I can but I won’t. I’ve always felt a kinship with my fellow women and I could never really take it upon myself to be the cause of their heartache and pain. I almost stole a guy once but my conscience won’t give me peace so I stopped seeing the guy before anything happens. Before that, I had similarly fell for another guy with a girlfriend but knowing that a girl before me already loves him is something which I honoured, so I never told the guy that I liked him, much more let him know that I loved him. Even for guys me and my friends get similar crushes on. I always had more loyalty with my fellow girls so I just find new crushes if they get more intense crushes on the boy –regardless if I liked the boy first or not. So no, no matter how hot I looked to your boyfriend, husband, fiancé, etc., I will never steal him from you. Unless you become catfight bitchy to me –something I don’t really get and really hate since I never look at taken men, and I shall do it out of pure spite.


Truth is no matter how old I look, I still have a pre-adolescent heart. Imagine a 12-year-old heart/mind in a 29 year old body. That’s me. I fall quickly, and I hurt quickly. And I can fall out just as quickly, too. I am happy with hugging and holding hands. And I can live without sex. And I don’t really know how to need a man. So I live without. If I ever see someone or get into a relationship with someone, I say goodbye to him the moment that he: a) Gets really clingy. b) Frustrates me. c) Makes me cry. So please stop looking at me like I’m a fully grown woman who can love and understand you. I am just a 12-year old who needs hugs.
.

How I lost a toenail

Yesterday I went to the CR at the office to brush my teeth. As it was really hot and suffocating in there, I quickly finished and said bye to 2 other officemates in the CR, and darted hurriedly out of the room. Or so I thought.

When I swung open the door, I forgot that I had feet and opened the door inwards over my left foot. It just felt like a normal bruise I usually incur from bumping into tables so I cursed myself inwardly for unfailing clumsiness and continued to head out- until I happened to glance down and saw a pool of blood slowly growing on the floor from my foot. I stopped dead in my tracks and just kinda stood there wedged at the doorway blocking girls from coming in —or out— of the CR.

Remembering I had an officemate who is a registered nurse, I weakly said “Pakitawag naman si Oliver” to the room in general whilst looking at the ceiling and still blocking the CR pathways.

Good old Oliver came to the rescue with alcohol in hand [which scared me but which he ended up using just on his hands]. He cleaned up my toe [which at 1st glance looked like it had a nail scraped off halfway plus a crack in the middle of the remaining nail] and also thoughtfully cleaned up the pool of blood on my fake Melissa shoe. It took 4 pink checkered band aids to dress my wound as the blood was quickly soaking up the band aids and even when I got back I kept soaking up blood [with the tissues which I grabbed off the counter of the restaurant where we had lunch.]

Later, as I can’t get through a day without going to the CR [Small Bladder], imagine my surprise when the girl in the next cubicle called out to me:

Girl in Next Cubicle: “Shine?”
Me [looking uneasily at brown wall separating the next cubicle]: “Um. Sino ka? Kilala kita?”
We both got out and Girl in Next Cubicle reveals herself to be Luisa, my department mate.
Luisa: “Nakilala kita kasi nakita ko yung paa mo!”, she said, referring to my shoeless bandaged foot which she saw from her cubicle as I have been walking around without a shoe to let the wound heal.
At the bus home, the bleeding continued. The konduktor took one look at my tear-streaked face and charged me 4 pesos less than the original fare.

The next day at the doctor when I came to have my nail scraped off completely as advised, I was proud because not a peep came out from me after the 1st shot of anesthesia [which just felt like a shallow pinch at my skin]. I just smiled regally while the doctor wondered out loud why I was so quiet.

At the 2nd and 3rd shot which definitely pierced into my flesh, I screamed at her so much that according to my mom, people outside were craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. The doctor told me I was acting like I was being circumcised.

Afterwards, I didn’t feel any more pain, even as I hear her pounding away with what sounded like a hammer. [I didn’t look as I had my hand over my face the whole time] The pain kicked in around 30 minutes later which prompted me to swallow an Advil even without consultation, after which decided I have no patience for pain, and went to bed for siesta.

Me & My Cat: An Awesome Relationship


She was given almost immediately to us -handed to me, in particular, at our doorstep because her original owner can’t afford to have her, her twin, and her mother at the same time.



Therefore I am her mother.


She is our 1st sweet pet.

In all my years as a pet owner, no other pet had ever snuggled or cuddled to us, or jumped on our lap to sleep. She thought us the nice cozy feeling of having a warm cat resting in your lap.

I baby-talk to her. [Minchu mumuchinchi-minchu!; Mish-mish-mish!; Etchu-etchu-buhbuh cat!]


Soon as she sees me in the morning, she greets me by going round and round and rubbing unrelentingly against my legs. [which can sometimes come with a bite.]

I buy her clothes even when I’m broke. I can always just eat at home.

When I got out of a job, she was happy to see me home in the daytime that she jumped up and playfully bit my arm repeatedly.

What’s mine is hers. I let her do the ff: to my lappie: bite it, sleep on top of it, try to type on it.

She likes resting her nose on my arm/waking up on the sofa to lift her head and place it on my arm/whatever part she can reach/combing my hair with her paws.




She is insomniac, and is always seen staring into space thinking hard for hours on end.



She waits for me in the morning through sleeping by my bedroom door when she doesn’t get insomnia.

In contrast to parents who are offended by my youtube music playing, she inches her head closer to the lappie screen when she hears youtube music playing.

She takes after my brattiness. She doesn’t know how to take no for an answer and climbs on my lap 7 times even if I’m busy. She just climbs right back up soon as I put her down.

She gets sick easily. Another trait she got from me. :c

I depend on her to ward off my fear of roaches by putting her right in front of them when I see one.



Having her is just like having a dog. She runs after me, I race after her –at a speed faster than our dog’s –and she bites like a dog too! Very aso-like indeed!



Unlike Pikachu, my former cat who trashes around whenever I come near him, my pusa is very receptive to hugs and affection from me. In fact, she thrives on it and is rarely separated from my lap whenever I’m home.

All these things I’m saying still can’t express how much I miss her right now. Since yesterday, she was lying on her own on the mat, very still and quiet. She hasn’t been to my lap since the last time she unsteadily climbed onto it the other night. My empty lap is getting cold. =’(

People ask me why I never get drunk. Some people don’t quite buy my regular Drink Refusal Excuse of having stomach acidic problems. And so, coming home late one night after being out with friends, here is what I assessed:


I have a thing with power. My ego is a natural force that also has natural reluctance with being dominated. And being drunk for me can tilt my self-command and let something as shitty as a hang-over take over my control on my body and on feeling fine. Why shall I force sickness on self when feeling perfectly fine? I’d rather Keep Control In Check.


And that, my friends, is why I never get drunk/ never had a hang-over in my life.

Out of the blue, I had a nightmare. It happened last night and involved hostile feelings exchanged between me and his new extended family. Something about me consuming his left-over wedding cake while his mother-in-law's eyes shoot daggers at me. I never even think of him anymore. I had stopped loving him years ago. My subconscious just remembering a faded memory. Missing its old comfort. Maybe at the back of my mind, I just wanna crawl back into that security which he had so much to offer. To go back into something so familiar, something reassuring. But that would be like accepting defeat, and going back is never my style. If it’s your way of worrying about me, well, thank you for reappearing in my dream but I’m a big girl now, and I’ll be fine. And I don’t like nightmares. Please try not to re-appear. Thanks.

The Most Ironic Love Song

In the spirit of Valentine’s, here is what I think is the most ironic love song, inspired by Hanz’ posting of its lyrics in his status:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HCIJfA5UXY

The classic song, which can often be heard played in taxi cabs especially on Sundays, is a song about waking up to find the joys of falling in love:

“There is beauty up above and things we never take notice of..”

But even though the song is about the happiness of being in love, the tune, ironically sounds dark and sad, and I can’t help but feel heavy and depressed whenever I hear the melodramatic musical strains of the song, instead of feeling happy and gay about discovering I’m in love.

That, teamed with Billy Ocean’s ominous, conspiratonal singing [“You wake up suddenly. And you’re in love!”] makes me feel like he has a shocking revelation to tell or that he is trying to scare me about the mystery of “waking up suddenly and being in love”.

The Green Hornet movie review

I liked it. The way Green Hornet would just mindlessly ram his car into walls of houses, restaurants, and even his own building –making a mess out of everything and creating satisfying clangs of crumpling metal everywhere, which, for some reason, reminds me of sitting back and enjoying a ferris wheel ride where I can also hear the chugging of metal.





The Green Hornet is not the typical superhero movie where the hero is courageous, smart, buff and infallible. The Green Hornet is a bit like Big Moose from Archie intellectually, a little overweight, and relies on his assistant Kato [the real superhero] to singlehandedly beat all their enemies and babysit/protect him as well. [“Kato, saveee meee!”] The Green Hornet is lovable like a child, though. He alternates between spontaneously giving hugs to his assistant Kato and picking petty fights with him and name-calling him like a five-year-old trapped in a grown-up body.


The Green Hornet was not as ‘3d-fied’ as The Owls of Gahoole movie but it was mindless and fun all the same.


The movie also featured Edward Furlong of the defunct [is it still existing?] Teen Beat magazine fame


Relevance of the advanced screening food [Beef udon, fruit shake, fruit salad, pizza, donut] served to us was lost on me till I remembered that the mint bubblegum flavored Krispy Kreme they gave out were colored green. And green = The Green Hornet. Thus the weird-flavored donut. Hay.

Meeting When It's Over But You Didn't Know It

I asked him to meet me so we can talk if for the last time in person cause I didn’t want to allow him to leave me with our last communication being coursed through an effing cellular phone. He was already dissing me, not replying to my chat messages when I was scheduling our final date and then suddenly texting to say the date is on, only to make me wait for him for 2 hours before standing me up. He asked to reschedule the date to next day at the last minute. My friends told me not to go anymore but I was stubborn. I wanted to experience for myself his Unbelievable Rudeness in person.

At the mall where we’re supposed to meet, I sat waiting for him and fidgeted nervously at a corner in Powerbooks while being surrounded by hundreds of books I’ve randomly picked which sat unopened. He texted me that he was hungry so he will just grab a bite to eat first. Stunned by the fact that I must have been horrendous enough not to be even allowed to eat with him, I snapped at him to hurry eating as I had been waiting too long for him already [actually I just got there myself but the 2-hour waiting period of the previous day was still stinging in my memory], before trying to think about what to do next and where I can eat alone without him spotting me. It suddenly occurred to me that he might still see me walk miserably from Powerbooks to the place where I’m gonna eat, and as it suddenly became my goal to not be seen by him before we see each other, I just decided to stay put, opened my bag, and got out a cupcake whose contents I quickly crammed into my mouth. I was really ravenous with hunger but if he doesn’t want to eat with me, then I rationalized that I better feed myself with whatever’s available in my bag before we meet.

I could not wait any longer pretending to be interested in books of various topics and sizes in Powerbooks while going insane with wonder if he still likes me or not, and asked him if he’s done eating. Turned out he had just decided on a place to eat. When I arrived at the restaurant, he had just started eating. He had ordered beer with his pizza. I had already promised myself not to touch his food out of the indignity of him not wanting to eat with me. But my EQ –especially when it comes to food and shopping– has always failed me so I reluctantly ate the pizza he served me on my plate. As expected, we did not talk about the problem and our source of falling out, but just made small talk about anything but. I figured the happy ambiance of the family restaurant would not sit well with our talk anyway, so I decided to talk to him after eating.

I noticed how incredibly thin he’s gotten since I last saw him. I unhappily noticed the space between us as we walked out of the happy family restaurant. I twitched with hope when he shifted the take-out bag he was carrying from the hand closest to me to the other hand, as if to free his hand to hold mine. My face fell when he did not.

I took him to the park to talk, where I thought the darkness would blend well with the heaviness of our feelings. Where he told me he had never been so angry in his life as he had been for the last two weeks because of a question I have asked. I took heart and poured out some of my emotions at him, which I had been doling out in measured quantity, cautiously telling him how he hurt me with his actions without scaring him by divulging how much he really meant to me. I looked at him sitting across me casually and tears fell from my face at how cruel and cold the only man in the world I loved had gotten to me –how he stood me up the previous day, and how he did not want to eat dinner with me, and how he sat there tolerating my tears without doing anything. As I sat there thinking how-could-he thoughts and sorting out my misguided emotions for him, he got bored in the silence, promptly stood up, and looked at me, signaling the end of our conversation and the end of the night. I walked with him outside the park absent-mindedly still thinking about unresolved things between us, before realizing that I had been walking the WRONG PATH home and that he had no plans to see me off at my jeep stop and that’s why we were walking on HIS path home. We both stopped and looked at each other when I realized this and I righted my path and went on drearily home. At home he texted me to ask if I got home ok. But I know it was just out of courtesy and that it didn’t mean anything. Goddamn right will it ever mean anything.

First Yoga Experience

My friend Bogart enlisted me to attend a yoga class today. As we were running late 'coz I can't stop from stuffing myself with choco mousse and fried chicken at home, we briskly walked 3 blocks to the yoga place [which was said to be NEAR the MRT station but apparently NOT] under the 3pm sun AND briskly climbed three flights of stairs. Arriving to learn that the class had already started, we briskly changed into our yoga clothes and -with blood still pumping from so much brisk activities- went straight to the head-on-the-floor, ass-to-the-ceiling pose we found everyone in when we opened the magical door.

At first the sound of the yoga instructor's soft, melodic telephone-operatic voice slowly delivering commands soothed me. [Very relaxing and hypnotic indeed!] But as the activities got more intense, and without even having a moment to catch my breath from the mad dash to the place and not having the guts to excuse myself and leave the group for fear of earning collective looks of disgust from the group, I was just confined to thinking these thoughts while executing one yoga exercise after another:

1. Why am I being exhausted like this?
2. Until when will this go on?
3. What have I done and why am I being punished this way?
4. Why?
5. Blessed are the persecuted for theirs are the kingdom of heaven.
6. Sob.


Still, there are also not-so-bad moments. These are:

1. When the group arrived at the point where we were standing on our heads while our asses face the sky. --I was distracted and was calmed for a while by the image of our huge upside down heads in the mirror connected to our not-as-prominent bodies like we were freaks of some sort. Shit! If a photographer took a picture in this angle, it would be a hit! I remembered thinking while still being fascinated by the sight of our upside down heads in the mirror. Except will he also need to execute a head stand to be able to get the perfect shot?

2. When asked to lie flat down & close our eyes --I took a nap.

Lessons Learned:
1. Come early to yoga class. [To allow time for catching breath for climbing 3 flights of stairs and walking 3 blocks]
2. Bring tight neck-lined clothing. [As I wore a loose shirt with loose neck line, I had been flashing so much during the feet-to-the-floor exercises, I should have just yogaed in my bra.]
3. Bring own stuff. [The belt the club lent me for stretching smelled like feet!]
4. Consider the time of the day and the abundance of the sun's rays before walking anywhere.

Today in Glorietta, I was spending time alone when I saw a stuffed toy frog outside a toy store which made me stop and look. It reminded me of all the frog things I used to give someone special to me. [My pet name for him was “froggy”.] I held both the stuffed frog’s two hands, looked at its plastic eyes, squeezed one gently, and watched its tummy light up with words, then squeezed the other one too for good measure. I turned away from the frog before it lighted up again and hurried away from the store, lest it brings back tears and memories of a very special person. When I went home, I was unable to sleep, looked at the date and remembered its significance. Happy 10-10-10, Chris. Will you remember this day and think of the day when I first had a boyfriend? In 2 months, you will have your eternity without me. I hope it is as happy as we planned.

Despicable Me: a movie review

Despicable Me is an animated movie about Gru, a character who reminds me of Mc Donald's Burglar because of their similar striped wear and common villainry.

It features Gru's minions who are dead ringers for the Bananas In Pajamas and Doctor Nefario who reminds me of Krang.. and of a potato.

Actually both the minions and Dr. Nefario remind me of potatoes. And the stubbly growth of hair atop their heads is a constant distraction for me all throughout the movie. Kind of like grassheads na ewan.

The three children don't remind me of anyone or of bananas, potatoes or any other fruits and vegetables. Except for the outfit of the problem/middle child in striped lavender which reminds me of a Hi-C grape tetrapack.

The movie is a "go awww" movie [which I am fond of lately due to this getting old stage of my life] for invoking wanting to be a parent emotions and having mushy-wushy sentimental parent-kid moments, punctuated every now and then by Gru's young competition, Vector the villain's "OH YEAAAAAH!"

Another key moment is when the youngest child, happy at receiving the stuffed unicorn toy of her dreams, said "IT'S SO FLUFFY!" in a deep, gravelly big voice unfit for her. My movie mate said the little girl even did a humping motion along with the line delivery but I did not catch that.

As with any animated movies, it features a falling down exhilarating moment that is so hard to shoot in real life movies, and with Despicable Me the animated-movie exhilarating moment came during the roller coaster ride the villain dad took with his kids.

The movie -despite the "go awww" feel- did not make me cry. Did I, PIC?? Did I..?!!
Since there was no chance for my Short Attention Span to kick in so I may throw tantrums at the movie-house and share my opinions to the whole row, I say Despicable Me is still a better movie than 2012 -my ultimate gauge for movies if it's passable or not.

There is no marriage proposal, no wearing of the perfect bridal gown, no exchange of vows, no releasing of doves, no toasting to the couple. All of these fancy preparations wouldn’t happen anymore. These thoughts flashed quickly in Juliet’s head as she lie in bed after giving herself completely to the man lying next to her. This has been it. Her Honeymoon. Tears poured down silently from her eyes as she cried for the conservativity she broke. She cried for the childhood dreams she may have deprived herself. She cried for all the ridiculous fuss and expensive she-bang she suddenly has denied herself. She mourned for her low EQ and for taking the marshmallow when she could have been given more later on. But most of all, she cried for letting herself be with a man whom she know in her heart do not and will not be able to give his heart to her. She knew this even before, and she does not understand herself for still going on. And all she can do is to kiss his closed eyes as he sleeps next to her. Goodnight, Husband.

The Incurable Itch

Last Saturday, I noticed some red blotches on my right thigh and leg which itches a bit so I put Katinko green balm on it. It didn’t seem to relieve the itchiness so on top of the Katinko, I put some white balm with Chinese characters I found on my parents’ dresser –which didn’t help either, then put some baby powder on top of it, then put some more Katinko to at least give the skin a cool feeling, then went to sleep half scratching it and reaching for my disk of green balm to put more on it.
The next day, my leg was feeling very very irritated and no less itchy than the previous day but we have to go to church so I went to church with an itchy irritated leg.

All throughout the service, I was alternately scratching my leg, sighing, and hiking my skirt up so that the fabric won’t touch my very sore leg which has gotten really irritated with anything that touches it.
Coincidentally, I observed that I was seated next to a girl who has a pinkish bruise on her leg and once I caught her pat her bruise affectionately –prolly glad that it wasn’t giving her as much stress as my rashes were.

I just wanted to go home to my disk of green balm so I can start re-applying but after church I still have to wait for my mother who was taking extra long that day to change from her church uniform. Not able to take it any longer, I went to find her and saw her chatting merrily to a person who looks like she has 10 more years’ worth of life story to share. Through gritted teeth, I hurried to my mother’s side, firmly clamped my hand on her arm and whispered “Halika naa, ang katiiii!”, then smiled itchily at the person as I escorted my mother to the door.

Hoping the feeling will pass, I slept off the itch and awaited the next day with itch-free dreams, but lo and behold, the rashes seemed to have spread on my other leg and on my arms as well. Applying green balm all day didn’t seem to help either, as it still itches and stings. So at 3pm, after bitch-slapping my skin heartily all day [I was not sure scratching was allowed], I marched off to the doctor carrying my disc of green balm [which has somehow lost its cap from overuse for the past days] hoping for an itch cure that can also double as an insomnia cure.

Turns out I should not have been putting any of my green balm on it as it further irritates it. Prolly seeing how slather-happy I was, I was advised to slather on a diaper rash cream instead which had a picture of a blue-eyed baby on its box and a ‘no rash’ sign on it kind of like the ‘no smoking’ sign. Sadly, the twice-a-day medication I was also advised to take did not double as an insomnia cure.

So here I am fully awake at 2am but with fewer itches and smelling like an infant.

How the newly brokenhearted behave: An observation

Singles who just got their heart broken usually get on by meeting and dating other persons. But what about those who are going through a dry spell and aren’t fortunate enough to meet someone who likes them back?

A single person who has just been dumped or even the one who made the decision to walk away from a relationship is someone who has just gone thru rejection. And because his fragile/wounded ego needs some stroking, the Newly Single –whilst in the period of not meeting anyone new yet– usually take several steps back and find comfort into the arms of a Doting Ex. More specifically, The Ex Who Hasn’t Moved On From Him Yet a.k.a. The Desperado.

Everyone has at least one of these exes. This ex is usually the one the Newly Single have ceased loving a long time ago. The one who has also hit a raw nerve or has exceeded the Newly Single’s patience to the point of annoyance by being too clingy still/refusing to move on/refusing to stop from loving Newly Single “unconditionally”. There are reasons why the Newly Single still chooses to remain friends with The Desperado apart from the fact that these exes just won’t let go. They have the role of providing the Ego Boost or are tasked with Re-Affirmation of the Newly Single’s lovability which the Newly Single has come to doubt because of recent events in his life. Sometimes even before breaking up, when a person goes through a rough spot in his relationship, he comes into The Always Open For Him/Ready Arms of The Desperado for a quick pat on the ego or sometimes even a quick roll in the hay with them.

Although going back to the Doting Ex may work for a while, it is usually just a temporary engagement while the new person Newly Single likes is still blind to the charms of Newly Single or until someone better comes along. Therefore, Doting Exes of the World, stop from hoping and have enough EQ and self-preservation to ignore Newly Single until at least you have started loving another person already. And for the Newly Single feeding on someone else’s weakness? Not classy.

I like bringing home smells with me. Like the smell of smoke on my clothes and hair when coming home from a night out with my friends [tamer and more tolerable]. Or the smell of the mall on my newly bought clothes. Or the smell of a relative’s house on the imported pasalubong she bought me from her home across the seas. And of course, the smell of my lover’s perfume on me after being with him.

Choose to be brave than to be safe

Falling asleep and waking up next to someone you love is one of the nicest feelings in the world. It’s something I would recommend for everyone to try; especially to those who are fond of sleeping or being with people they do not love.

Most people –when asked to choose between sleeping with the one they love and the one who loves them– would usually choose to sleep with someone who loves them, who adores them, and who worships the ground they walk on… that way they’d be properly appreciated and so that they could get the right treatment which is due them.

I think nothing still beats the content, happy moment of sleeping and waking with the one you love. It reflects an achievement for the part of the lover –the courage of one’s own convictions. It shows strength of going after what you want and getting it. Of conforming to the basic rule of being in a relationship only with the one you love.

Whereas for the person who does not love back but continues to sleep or be with the person they do not love, it shows weakness. Of giving in to loneliness and one’s dependence on another human being. Of settling for a lesser being –and in the process– being an accessory to the crime of inevitably hurting another human soul’s feelings. It is doomed to failure any other way you look at it.

And so for those out there who are still together with people you know in your heart that you don’t and can’t really love, let them go and have the courage to go after the person you truly love. It’s one of the nicest feelings in the world which you shouldn’t be depriving yourself of any longer.

Heartbreak

It's just so helpless. It comes when you least expect it, just when you had so much hope. And you believe. And you're giving it good. It comes at the middle of your highs. It wrecks your dreams. It's such a shame.

What were we thinking spending our last time with each other untouching, unfeeling, not understanding, unloving, standing our grounds, and basically undoing all our happier times together? Last times should be commemorated with extra care. Let there never be a last time not celebrated with tenderness, humanity and final courtesy.

I lost my Teddy Burr.
***


At the mall last week, a half-male half-female pudgy human being [?] deliberately stepped on my royal toes before promptly snapping at me angrily, “Pucha! Ha-harang-harang sa daan!” I gaped unbelievingly at its disappearing a-hole form before firing back obscenities at the person who’s sex is yet to be determined, and then stomping to my brother to complain.

“Tinapakan ako!” I whined to my 5’11 brother, testing his big brother abilities while keeping an eye on the retreating person who had joined its companion. “Nasaan?” he said gamely, advancing steps to the direction my eyes were at. But my mom, the peace-loving family member present at that time, stopped him with an arm and blocked his way, telling him how there should always be peace and order and reminding us that it’s her birthday, hence world peace.

My brother struggled, “Eh tinapakan daw sha eh! Tatapakan ko ren! ‘Ba!” Fortunately for the sexless person, my mom held firm and no person —male, female, or otherwise unknown— got squashed.

I have no doubt at all that my brother —who has a brown belt in taekwondo, has the patience and temper of a hyperactive 5-yr-old, who throws cats over his shoulder and in the air as a form of lambing,and who fails miserably in anger management— will be able to beat someone up pretty good if I ask him to.

Last week’s mini incident was the first time I asked him to do anything for me.
Usually, I just cast spells and put hexes on people.
Even if it was just a test and I handle my own disputes just fine, thanks anyway. Hb!

Dear Chris,

My boss who had knowledge about psychology took one look at me and said “You already met the love of your life. He’s everything you want in a man but you left him because you got bored.”

I believe him. You will always be special to me. I have always thought that being chosen as a wife is the highest compliment a woman could ever receive in her life. The thrill of someone wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. The heartening thought of someone willing to do all kinds of sacrifices to make things work with you. But apparently, being your girl seemed to do the trick. You treated me like a husband would his wife -and for me, that will always be what matters most. Thank you for the wife treatment you had shown me even if I did not reciprocate as much precious treatment. Every gesture, every action you had shown me is worth more than any engagement ring, house, car, and all other material luxuries I could ask for in this world. You had never failed to make me feel priceless, beautiful, and always cherished all throughout our time together.

I will never know if I would marry at all in this world, but even if I don’t I will be happy to be reminded of the brief period in my life when I became a wife. Thanks to you.

I told you I didn't believe in love, but that's only because you were in love wit her.

All the little miracles I never got to share with you.

The perfect words never crossed my mind,
Cause there was nothin' in there but you.

There you are standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety.

No, I won't wait forever

In the confusion and the aftermath,
You are my signal fire.
The only resolution and the only joy

No, I won't wait forever

--Snow Patrol

Mighty glad we met... mighty glad you were born. Happy birthday, my dary!

All I need is just one man to prove to me they're not all the same.

"What you say cuts me so deep. You think I wouldn't care but I put too much thought into it all. But once I give in, it's over. So you chase. Run faster. Or before you know it, I'm gone." - Eva Rusilowski

The 25 funniest analogies

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

reposted from: writingenglish.wordpress.com/2006/09/12/the-25-funniest-analogies-collected-by-high-school-english-teachers/

Women are always found guilty of trying to justify impulsive actions brought about by lust through falling in love. Not quite knowing how to handle any acts of intimacy that happen early between them and a man, women resort to the self-imposed punishment of falling in love, subconsciously knowing that they will eventually get hurt by falling for a man that’s wrong for them. This, they think, is proper penance for the shame brought about by being unexpectedly intimate with a man, moreso if she or the man is committed to someone else. Aside from this, women has the scientifically proven disadvantage of falling in love with men they get intimate to --as opposed to the ruthless, less immune to falling-in-love men. Scientific explanation points to a chemical released by a woman's body during lovemaking which makes them have maternal feelings for men who has reached their womb --the very same feelings which they have or will have for their offsprings.

Men --the bastards-- truly have it easier.

As a person who loves to analyze and theorize about the human psyche, I came up with a few more theories about bois and gels in love. And these are:

1. Girls are the ones who always break up the relationship, usually because they want to feel more appreciation. Ergo, by doing this, they DO NOT meant for boys to agree and let them go. They want their boyfriends to refuse and fight for their love and get told they are too beautiful and wonderful to let go of. Their suggestion of break-up usually just signifies typical hurt girl-seeking-for-lambing behaviour, and therefore, boys, it just means that your girl loves you. [yes, no matter how crazy that sounds.]
2. Boys usually take the break-up message seriously and it usually wounds their egos, and instead of the girl’s expected response of their boy begging and grovelng to make the relationship work and being more loving than before because they’re afraid to lose the girl, they take offense and protect their ego and let the girl go.
3. Boys’ egos are very fragile things. Once it is hurt --e.g. their girlfriends tell them one of their flaws or not-so-good qualities in the hopes that they’ll improve-- not only do the boys NOT resolve to improve the flaw, but they will rebel by cheating behind their girls’ backs. So girls, take extra pre-caution in giving “constructive criticisms” to your men. Because even if you just wanted to help him or try to make the relationship better by telling him he should be a little more loving or he should maybe try to get a job or stuff, he’ll take this against you and take it personally. He’ll also think that since “you can’t accept him for what he is” [even if in reality you just can’t accept his one bad trait], he has the license to get “re-dignified” by seeking attention elsewhere and going for other girls to seek glory again and just to cancel out that one little fatal hurting comment you made about, say, his snoring habit.
4. Boys deal with relationship problems not by confronting them but by avoiding them, being as far away as they can be from the dilemma, procrastinating having to face the situation and by “having fun first” [dating other girls and doing light-on-the-mind, happy things that will make them temporarily forget their current problem with their spouses, or simply doing any other thing that can make them avoid facing current relationship dilemma.]
5. Boys deal with heartbreaks, being cheated on etc. by doing the same crime their nasty ex-spouses commited to them maybe not to the girl who did them wrong [who would have already escaped away with the cheating accomplice] but to the next unsuspecting innocent girl they enter relationships with. Boys are indeed harder to heal in love than girls are. Some boys marred with bad relationships don’t ever heal and just continue on with sick cycles that pile up one nasty relationship after another. Hopefully, there will come a time when they will recover from their past baggages and find a way to go back to their good old selves or how they were before they were f***’d around wit by malevolent souls.

People want to know, Why, when you became a man, did your voice not change? Michael evolves his drag voice in order to keep singing Jackson 5 songs every night through puberty. The effect not so much castrated himself as womanized himself. --John Jeremiah Sullivan on Michael Jackson, GQ magazine September 2009

I am an ENTP/Inventor.

If y'all are fed up of zodiac signs, I've found a new way of determining compatibility for people through personality types. According to this test, I am an ENTP [Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving].

ENTPs are said to have enthusiastic interest in everything and always sensitive to possibilities, aside from being a non-conformist and innovative.

Here's more from another site:

Typically good-natured, upbeat and laid-back, ENTPs can be delightful people to be around. They get a lot of enjoyment and satisfaction from interacting with others, and especially enjoy discussing and debating theories and concepts which interest them. They may be prone to initiate arguments because they so enjoy the debate. They are generally fun-loving and gregarious, and can be quite charming. They have a problem with sometimes neglecting their close relationships when they become involved in the pursuit of a new idea or plan.

ENTP Strengths:
* Enthusiastic, upbeat, and popular
* Can be very charming
* Excellent communication skills
* Extremely interested in self-improvement and growth in their relationships
* Laid-back and flexible, usually easy to get along with
* Big idea-people, always working on a grand scheme or idea
* Usually good at making money, although not so good at managing it
* Take their commitments and relationships very seriously
* Able to move on with their lives after leaving a relationship

ENTP Weaknesses:
* Always excited by anything new, they may change partners frequently
* Tendency to not follow through on their plans and ideas
* Their love of debate may cause them to provoke arguments
* Big risk-takers and big spenders, not usually good at managing money
* Although they take their commitments seriously, they tend to abandon their relationships which no longer offer opportunity for growth

The site also mentioned that I am most compatible with the INFJ/the protector, or the INTJ/the scientist, but I think I prefer the protector. But how do I find protectors?

Will I now be asking people for their acronym personalities instead of their sun signs?

I wish that I could be the one responsible for getting the love that I want.
I wish that halfway through falling in love, I wouldn't find that he has already changed his mind to go after some girl who's braver than me.
I wish that when I realize the value of a good man, I will have the courage to go after him.

But I am just a girl.
So I just cry.

Wag kang susuko.

My Extended Sorry

The following are my extended apology to you, done in your name and for your forgiveness of me and hoping it somehow makes up for my discontinuance of eternity with you:

• Being nicer to my next relationship.
• Being more patient.
• Putting up with shit.

Sometimes I know that I offer myself for abuse and attract jerks almost deliberately as penance for giving up on us, and even though they are not you and there’s no way for you to appreciate what I’m doing to them in your name, it’s just actually my way of saying sorry to you. Sorry I messed up big time. Sorry I failed you and us.

I recently took a Facebook quiz and was surprised that the results matched my Angel even if I did not say anything about the green color. Whoa!

Here's what it said:
5h1n3 took the Who is your Guardian Angel? quiz and the result is Raphael

"Healing power of God", "The Divine has healed", "God heals" Hebrew word rapha means "doctor" or "healer". Raphael is a powerful healer and assists with all forms of healing - humans and animals. He helps to rapidly heal body, mind and spirit. The chummiest and funniest of all Angels, Raphael is often pictured chatting merrily with mortal beings. He's very sweet, loving, kind and gentle and you know that he's around when you see sparkles or flashes of green light. Part of Raphael's healing work involves spirit releasement and space clearing. He often works with Michael to exorcise discarnate entities and escort away lower energies from people and places. As well as a healer, Raphael is known as the "Patron of Travelers" because of his help with Tobias and his travels. He assures that all your transportation, lodging and luggage details go miraculously well. Raphael also helps with inward spiritual journeys, assisting in searches for truth and guidance. Raphael is protecting and helping healers such as doctors, therapist and surgeons. Raphael not only helps you to heal from physical, emotional and mental pain, he also heals wounds from past lives. He is a Keeper of Holy Grail the highest spiritual energy of unconditional love that heals everything.

Hope it will find its way to you wherever you are

Last night I found out that I still believe in my soul mate. Although the belief is not as great as it used to be, yesterday, after speaking to my Angel, I found myself thinking briefly about him and then composing and singing sad songs hoping it reaches him somehow. I know deep within me there’s a void only he can fill. I know there’s a chance I may never meet him in this life and this saddened me and brought lots of tears to me last night even if I’m nowhere near pms.

Be Happy When Someone is Mad at You

It's good to feel someone's anger cause it means that someone thought highly of you and it was you who let him/her down. It's more insulting when you've done something not up to standards and people will react neutrally cause they have expected you to fail.

I believe in angels.

People close to me know that apart from being an eternal pessimist, I am an agnostic too. Despite this, there is a glimmer of faith from my being which comes in the form of belief in the existence of angels –having been fascinated by them ever since I watched Date with An Angel as a young child.

Even if I have given up on my soul mate and have resigned to the fact that he might have been aborted before birth, I still like to believe that I have a guardian angel watching over me at all times. This guardian angel is what keeps me sane and keeps me safe. He is the one accountable for me coming home with money and limbs still intact despite walking at odd hours in our notorious ice-pick stabbing neighborhood. When something hurts physically, typically my stomach because of acidity, I call on him and imagine him wrapping his wings around me and giving me a magic angel cure, and instantly I’ll feel better. Likewise, I imagine him soothing me when mortals hurt my feelings. He finds ways so that somehow my emotional pain is tempered down through his angel powers. He looks after me and hides things like an ex and his new girlfriend from me when I happen to be in the same place with them so that I won’t get hurt. Every time something hurts –whether physically or emotionally– I find comfort in coming to him and being pacified of all ailments. Being my angel ever since I was young, he knows how many times I have fallen and hurt myself, my weaknesses, and my fallibility. For some reason, I have envisioned him to have a green aura or ray around him. Perhaps this was the single trait I remembered about him when he showed himself in my dreams/subconsciousness. However down or lonely I get, I know that I can stop myself from jumping into yet another heartbreak/relationship doomed to failure because I have my Angel and he looks after me unconditionally. And besides, the concept of him is more realistic than the Soul Mate or a relationship with a man that is easy to get along with.

Kelly Clarkson




the Epitome of . . .




Stressed Singing




Constipated Pleading



Forehead- Knitting Hardships



Merciless Wailing



and Inconsolable Anguish.

Miley Cyrus Ultrasounded

Some people find the absence of an upper lip an irresistible trait for a guy...

The Daters a.k.a. the Blindfolded Ones

Whilst nursing an insomnia which kept me up till 7am today [after going home at 4am], I recently realized how daters and everyone of us who are on the quest of finding their partners are really similar to blindfolded ones feeling their way uncertainly along life, finding their soul mates. When we meet someone, we aren’t aware that the person is wrong for us simply because our good judgment is hindered by the blindfolds we are wearing. So whilst we are like mismatched socks with our partners, we continue helplessly on because we are unable to see they are wrong for us, and we can’t trust others to know more than we do for they are equipped with their own blindfolds as well. The only way we know that we are with the wrong ones is when things go wrong. Meanwhile, we spend time, money, effort, etc. on the wrong people because we are all blindfolded.

Their Superhero

This morn, at the early hour of 9am BT [Bum Time], I woke to the sounds of both progenitors alternately waking me up in manner of frantic house-is-burning hysteria. “What’s the matter?” I asked one of em in a voice thick with sleep through closed lids while I try to encourage my dream about sending letters to go on. “Hurry, we need you to press the right button! Things lost forever are at stake!” my mother said in a loud clear voice which dispelled my dream and effectively scared it away. When I popped my head out of my room, I saw both parents gesturing hopelessly towards the laptop computer. [We are afraid to Eject! Things might be lost forever!] With a sigh, I approached to do the daughter task of reading the warning message and obediently cancelled then re-opened the file as they interjected “We want to watch the 24/7 again!” After Pacquiao’s facial-haired face went back on screen, I trudged to my room to chase my dream but it refused to come back so I got up and fixed a coffee-bean based oatmeal breakfast for self.
***

Phone Bitch

An unknown number texted me one morning asking me who I am. Tha hell will I answer an impudent nervy person demanding to know who I am when I’ve got better things to do with my time and my phone! So I more or less expressed that thought to the unknown intruder via text and the person enigmatically texted again, claiming that I knew it since I called it by name not too long ago. Having no patience for such tactics, I called to cut down the crap on identity guessing games. The person who had so much balls to demand who I am turned out to have no balls in answering its phone so fed up with people like these who’ve got nothing to do with their time but play childish mind games, I texted one final message to the non-person at the other end of the mobile: “Niloloko ka lang niya.” [You’re being played at.] was my final message to the loser who never bothered me again after that.

Breaking Free of Things that Hold Me Down

As God’s favourite child, I know that He gave me my goddess traits for a reason. He created me in His image for a reason. And although I have no way to determine if what I pick up on the way to my Ultimate Destination is good, bad or good but rotten inside, I know that I have the brainpower to put the bad things down immediately and to start looking closely for the Good One.

Each time I happen to hear the landline ring and hear my mobile phone beep, I am being gracious to your persona which everyone but me has doubted. Every time I glance expectantly at the communication gadgets, I am raising the level of your individuality [which has failed me and broken my faith several times] to a height it may not deserve or to a courtesy which you may not be capable of. Only to find, time after time, that you follow the natural path and category cast to you by my friends as the Jerk From Hell. Never will you break another promise to me.

To be a girl is to:

• Wait for the phone to ring on evenings and to talk to a sincere guy.
• Be fetched from home for a date, and most importantly, be securely escorted home from a date especially in the evenings.
• Receive flowers or other small tokens of appreciations.
• Be cuddled indulgently.
• Feel beautiful and to be made to feel even more beautiful.
• Be appreciated tremendously.
• Have someone listen to her and support her emotionally, most especially when she’s down in the dumps.
• Not have to wait to hear from a person who misses, cherishes, and adores her for he will do these things automatically if he is worthy.
• Be indulged in feasible, reasonable fantasy dates or feasible reasonable fantasy activities and fantasy places to visit.

The reason a man would lie and mistreat a woman that is good to him

According to http://help.com/post/234488-can-anyone-tell-me-the-reason-a-man is because:

• He may not value any relationship. He can not commit so each relationship is just a means to an end. He is just in it for what he can get out. He expects every one to do their part except for himself. He has a false sense of manhood and probably drew some beliefs growing up that that is how woman should be treated.
• Many reasons, maybe he doesn’t like the girl, maybe he doesn’t like himself, maybe he doesn’t like life, he has a complete lack of respect for women.

• Some simple reasons
  -He doesnt like her
  -Doesnt feel worthy
  -Scared of commitment to such a thing

  For some reason, there are many people, most are males, that have a tendancy to stray. Apparently it comes from a sense of boredom, often resulting from lack of emotional attachment.

  Some males think about themselves more than their significant others.

  There are also different types of cheating. Some do it once, then confess for guilt and never do it again. Others though do it prolifically for no apparent reason.

• It is very strange why a man would do something like that, depends on what exactly..
  But in fact sometimes the man does many things to test the love and patience of a woman. Trapped in love yet wanting to be free they lose their minds so many times.
  To lie especially of unfaithfullness is easier then to tell the truth, face being judged, unforgiven and losing the one precious thing in ones life…In another form of mistreating a woman that is good to him and possibly loves him…Most probably because of dominance, afraid to lose control, afraid of losing the person, it mostly hides between what they have learned how to treat a woman etc from not so good people…maybe from abuse father or tough love scenario..anger frustration, tension misunderstood that can lead to emotional outbursts..the man probably behind it all loves the woman, is scared of losing and at the same time testing the woman’s love…all around is a circle that doesn’t seem to stop…at the core of tension and fear if that is found out and dealt with it should solve the situation..

So touched by Katy Perry's Thinking Of You video...

Someone asked me when to cry? This is my answer:

You shed tears when you lose someone good to you and you're the one to blame. Otherwise, you just realize you have been keeping trash, throw it away, and get annoyed for the waste of time and inconvenience caused.

She may not know it but every time she sleeps, her soul temporarily leaves her body to travel to a dimension where souls go when their bodies sleep. It is at this place where souls meet their soul mates to be together which they forget about when they go back to their bodies and wake up. It is where she converses everyday with the person closest to her heart, where she makes sure to find him wherever he is in the large dimension to be next to him before going back to her body, losing consciousness, and forgetting everything done or talked about in the Dimension.

She may not know it but they sleep next to each other everyday in this dimension –the only place where they can bond, talk about each other’s lives, each other’s current partners, and wish for the day when they will meet if they aren’t together yet. It is the only time when they feel closest to another person. It is the only time they are truest to themselves. The only time when they can talk about anything without reservation and know that they won’t be judged. It is undoubtedly their best time of the day and the reason why they will wake up in the morning in an inexplicably good mood. It doesn’t bother them that although they feel closest to each other, they do not know each other’s names.

Yesterday she went to the Dimension to find her first love. After searching for a long time amidst the sleeping bodies of soul mates floating next to each other in space, it broke her heart to see her first love floating next to someone else –his current love. She noiselessly moved close to the couple and hovered over them as they slept, wanting to take heart and tell him how he’s been feeling lately. Careful not to wake them up, she spoke to him through her mind.

“Hey there. I’m here to tell you I’m still lost. It’s just I’m still a bit upset that you let me go. How could you ever do it? Don’t you know I don’t know what’s best for me? Before you came I was strong. Unprotected but strong. You came and your love weakened me. I have become so used to your love as a constant shield. I felt I can do anything… I lean back on steep places cause I know you won’t let me fall. I trusted you to save me every time. And you did. I’m sorry I leaned too far back that last time and you let go. I was just acting strong. I thought I could still be strong like before… you know? Before I met you. Now, I’m so scared. I’m an angel with a broken wing. I take very very deep breaths and feign strength before taking flights but I always fall flat on my face and always end up bruised. I hate going to places. I hate doing things. What fun is it now when I don’t have a wing? Suppose something happens to me when I’m out? I’d rather stay home and sulk. I have so many scars now… do you see them? I collected them since I lost my wing.”

She saw how his arm was protectively looped around her and noticed how she, in turn, had her arm linked around him. This girl he was with loved him and treasured him, she can see this. Perhaps this girl never leaned back unlike her who was a horror when taken care of. She continued.

“It was only with you that I felt love overflow. Not only did you fill up my cup of need for love but you filled it to the rim and allowed some to overflow to the edge. With others I have always felt inadequate. They leave me hungry. They frustrate me with the feeling that something is lacking. Their love was never enough.”

She was crying helplessly now. “I am sorry I have been a nuisance to take care of. Sorry I rebelliously told you to let me go. You who have been the best to me. I am sorry I hurt you by driving you away but look who has more scars now. I just want you to know although I have never properly thanked you, I am really grateful for all that you have done for me. Your every action was a tribute to your unconditional love for me. And… I just don’t know what to do now.”

And with these last words she fell asleep with tears in her eyes, hovering above the couple, and with her hands wistfully above the space enclosing her first love, who had arms around another love. She does this cause she wants to give him good dreams and keep him safe for the night –this man who had so gently taken good care of her not so long ago.

As her eyes close, her soul mate finally located her drifting weirdly above a couple, a sad look in her face. A bit disappointed that she fell asleep already and they did not get to talk before she went back to her body but understanding that his other half is still going through the difficult times of transition now, the soul mate drew close to plant a soft kiss that took away the sadness from her face, and covered her with a blanket made from his favorite cloud. He placed his hands above him to give her good dreams and went to sleep himself, praying for the day they will meet so that her scars can start healing.

The Battle of the Bums Chapter 2

When you are a bum and have nothing to do in your time, it is easy to think-think-think. Think of all the Things Lacking In Your Life, Think of how to Amuse Self with Low Funds, and most of all: Think of Ways to Quarrel with Other People by means of Thinking and Dwelling on Other People’s Flaws. So what happens when a bum co-habits wit another bum? They fight mentally which could end up physically. And so goes the story behind my Right Side of Head Migraine last Tuesday. Paver asked me a question to which my heat-induced sarcastic reply was met with an uppercut [Tiger Tiger Uppercut!] to the right eye of yours truly. Not being able to resist, I came up with another retort, and he came up with another punch –but this time screened by Maver who obstructed the Pummeling Senior Bum with her body. Ain’t nothin’ like bumhood to provide you with some real blood pumping action right in your homes!

Thank God for Friends.

I don’t think I have ever properly appreciated my friends. My friends do the wonderful job of looking after me when they know that I don’t do it too well for myself.

There are my AKB Sisters –who, like fairy godmothers- tsk tsk at me disapprovingly and discuss among themselves my most recent foolishness in Yahoo Conference as if I’m not there myself, and scold me in unison and all caps. In high school, they used to pool their bodies together to hide me from the annoying guy who has a crush on me shall he happen by to look for me. If they’ll get off earlier, they’ll oblige our guy friends to take me home and ensure my safety before the guy friends are allowed to go home themselves. One of them –Roxanne– just recently went out of her way to call long distance from another country to very sweetly rebuke me for my current reckless acts of youth and even instructed our other friends to pick me up everyday from work just to ensure that I do not get hurt. Yes, they protect my emotions.

Then there’s my Saturday Club –combined group of friends from my Journalism class in college consisting mainly of Philippine Gay Association, Mano Po, and my own clan the Fox Group. There’s P.I.C. [Partner In Crime] who treats me out to expensive dinner and desserts to reward me every time I make a decision that’s bordering on the intelligent and veering towards the direction of Getting Myself Treated Properly. As she knows that “freebies” are the way to my heart, she also always feed me every time I’m down in the dumps. There’s hyperactive Bogart who –even though I’ve pissed to the point of threatening me not to show my face to her lest I wanna be seriously wounded, and who crowned me as the person responsible for getting her at her angriest level yet­– still tells me she’ll pray for me when she sees I’m in a fix, and bullies me to make the right decisions and tells me that she doesn’t want me ruining my life, and that she cares for me and doesn’t want me to get wayward.

There’s also my Office Pals. Docile, sweet-faced Mon2 who fiercely [well she tries!] intimidates men into taking care of me and taking me home or else; Nykko who uses surprisingly good metaphors to get through my thick skull; and Yaya who brings me kakanin pasalubongs, carries my laptop bag [when in a good mood], and can be ordered to turn on the lights, bend under the table and unplug my cellphone charger, fetch me from home, take me home and do cartwheels for me when I’m bored.

And because they love me and I love them, I will try to be Better to myself. Enough of the Sado-Masochism tendencies. I will also try to lessen my B.S. Tolerance levels.

For the special person I chose not so long ago,

The ff. are the things you do that make me smile:

• never failing to call me those first few times
• missing me and calling a couple of times even when you're out on a despedida gimik with friends
• the way you languidly relish each hug I give you
• the crying sound you make when you miss me or when I pretend to walk away from you
• your blunt way of analyzing things
• your imitations of people in your stories
• letting me win in Tekken

These, my man, are the things that make you a good man. Build on them and cultivate them and remember them when you find that special girl to love. And even though things happen, and things don't go as planned, keep in mind that someday -if not with me but with some other girl- it will be. And that all good things come in God's time.

A Letter to the New Owner

To Whom It May Concern;
My Dell Latitude D630 was just four weeks old when I took him under my care. I gently broke him in [and he me as he taught me how to be mouse-less], lovingly half-filled him with my files, entrusted my favorite mp3s, shared my private chat conversations, took minutes with him, browsed favorite sites with him, and personalized him with previous work and friendship stickers given by friends. For 1 year and 5 months, we got along just fine even though I gave him nicks and scratches, a few viruses, and knocked out his letter “Q”. I must admit, there were even times when I underhandedly tried to trade him in with a lighter, smaller brother but failed as deep inside I know my partiality for him will prevail.
And though parting time for us is near and your meeting him is a bit overdue, I don’t think I will ever be really ready to bid goodbye to him. Please do take care of him and love him. [sob]

Very truly yours,
Old Owner

Passing by my former MTV office, it is blasphemous for me to see no trace of my lovely, lovely MTV office and to find this in place…

When I turn away

It is usually because I feel small

When I feel small

Wrap your arms around me

And make me feel beautiful

I will wait

Till you make me Big again

It is funny how, at the first stages of love or when people have fallen in love, they instinctively try to protect themselves from hurts they might experience by conjuring up problems and thinking as negatively as possible [e.g. preparing to get left behind by the loved one, torturing self through various sado-masochist fantasies where the loved one either reconciles with an ex, is suddenly swept away by some unknown admirer, etc.]

The following post is for my UNGAS, EMO fren call'd BOI PIKET [para sa matinding dinadala mo, bro!]

The difference between bois and gels in the middle of dating:

Gels tend to think that everything is going too FAST. That a man's emotions is getting left behind by his actions and therefore needs some catching up before they should proceed. Meaning both emotions should be clearly sorted out, that tha gel should feel no doubt any more, that she should KNOW tha man fully first, that he should invest MORE, etc. This springs from fear to be PLAYED, HURT, USED, and later on DUMPED when she's already IN LOVE. She is afraid that he is NOT REALLY IN LOVE.

Bois on the other hand, thinks that everything is going too SLOW. That the action is not catching up with how much he has already invested in her and that the action is being left behind by too much GETTING TO KNOW and therefore needs some catching up before they should proceed. Meaning that he wants the woman to give him her love and not make him wait any longer than necessary. This springs from fear to be PLAYED, HURT, USED, and later on DUMPED when he's already IN LOVE. He is afraid that she is NOT REALLY IN LOVE.

So how should bois and gels resolve this? Sometimes, one gender will suddenly feel that he or she is at tha losing end or that he/she has had enuf. When this person feels it, he or she will walk away. When that happens tha other person will make things right. Doesn't always work though if the person who'll do tha appeasement is a really insecure person or one who has lotsa pride.

It's always just a constatnt struggle in trying to strive for that equality and giving/getting your gender's fair share of benefits all the time.

No matter what, I want to continue living with the awareness that I will die. Without that, I am not alive. - Banana Yoshimoto