Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Lazy

pg
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Monday, December 13, 2004

What Kind of Blogger Am I?





You Are a Pundit Blogger!



Your blog is smart, insightful, and always a quality read.
Truly appreciated by many, surpassed by only a few
.





Totoo ba itich?

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Choco Nutty Crunch

My system is malfunctioning.

Visits to doctors are becoming all too familiar and boring, I could recite in my sleep the symptoms I've been having, repeated to doctors over and over again. My blood samples are in at least four laboratories already and they're saying only one thing.

I don't want to be all too caught up in this, but my body insists that I should. I've been feeling tired and sleepy pretty often lately. On top of giving up my mostly unhealthy lifestyle, I now have a foot-long list of food I can't eat.

That really depresses me, because 50% of that list is made up of meat, and I'm Miss Carnivorous 2004. One thing that's ok for me to eat are sweets, and damn it to hell, I don't have a sweet tooth. I don't enjoy chocolates, cakes and ice cream like normal people. Ok, I'm not normal.

So there we were having lunch, and the dessert for the day was a Choco Nutty Crunch cake. It's basically two layers of chocolate moist sponge cake with caramel in between, and heaps of white icing on top. I don't know why, but it reminded me of a tomb. I pointed that out to my friend who was attacking a monstrous slab of the tomb-cake.

"Hey look, the chocolate part looks like soil or mud, and the white icing looks like the fresh paint on tombs during Ghost Season." At which point she stabbed the slice of cake in the middle with her
fork and wrinkled her nose at me. "Are you always morbid when you think you're dying? Because you're not, and I want to enjoy my dessert, ok?"

It really hurt, but it's true. I don't wanna die yet, but if I am, then so be it. Just don't call my spirit when you're doing the Ouija board. I will be busy.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Indulgence

My dear faithful readers (yes, all three of you), please allow me this indulgence of talking about You-Know-Who again. What? No, you moron, not Voldemort.

He, the bane of my existence. The one who makes my heart melt. The drama king. The one I want to murder sometimes.

Yes, sometimes I want to put my hands on his bony neck and just twist it so both our self-inflicted tortures will end. Self-inflicted, because I chose to be with him, and also for him because he imagines all sorts of scenarios that in turn gives him nightmares.

I never imagined we would fight over which Mercury Drug branch I should have gone to. You think it's petty? Of course it is! He doesn't think so. He made it sound like I'm being dodgy just because I didn't go to the nearer branch.

I'm starting to suspect that if he had his way, he'd handcuff the two of us so we're together all the time. Or he'd rather be stranded in an island with just the two of us, because nobody can call me, I wouldn't have anywhere else to go, and I can't talk to anybody except him.

He's bonkers, and I'm going that road too.

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Note to Taveren: I am indeed a Drama Queen, and I think I found my King.



Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Bad Me

I am not a bad person.

I consider myself a good citizen of this country. I don't jaywalk. I heed No Smoking signs. I don't talk on my phone at moviehouses or churches, or even turn it on. I don't throw my candy wrappers just anywhere, I even pocket them for a week if I can't find a trash can. I don't add to the pollution because I don't have a car (not by choice).

I try my best not to judge people (although this statement contradicts a previous entry) by their looks, material wealth, and gender preference. I'm also working out my issues with people who have a very low tolerance for learning. I try to be politically correct. If it won't kill me by not saying it, I just keep my mouth shut. I'm considerate most of the time, I try to put myself in other people's shoes. I'm learning how not to hold grudges.

I would like to think that I give out advice only when asked, and rather sensibly at that. I cry when I see old people at homes. I cried when I witnessed a dog almost run over by a car at that blasted CP Garcia Avenue. I try not to pick up every stray kitten I see.

I take a deep breath when I'm overwhelmed by things. If I have to make a major decision, I sleep on it because everything looks different the morning after. I try to remember friends' birthdays. If something good happens to them, I am happy. I don't ask people how much are they earning, why are they gaining weight, or why are they so stupid to stay in that damned job which pays almost nothing.

I do the groceries at home. I try to be a good big sister. I don't try at all to be a good daughter to my mother, but I'm not bad. I let her hog the PC even if it means burned rice and a tower of laundry and a to-die-for (nakakamatay) electric bill. She never had a love story, and if this is her last chance, I'm not one to hold her back.

I am many other things, but I am not a bad person.

So why am I being depressed and lonely and feeling suicidal (sometimeslang, when its late at night and I'm listening to OPM Acoustic in my iPod)? I hope it's just PMS.