Thursday, December 18, 2008


I have said it too many times before. I hate competing. It's me and my overdeveloped sense of privilege. Look up entitlement in a dictionary and it will show a picture of yours truly. In short, I'm a douchebag. Thanks for playing Blue's Clues with me. This post is going nowhere.

On the other hand, I can still salvage this post's main idea. Hopefully. I guess, it's one of the hazards of having a crappy social life. Or maybe it's because I haven't flexed my writing muscles in a while. Creak, creak, I'm rusty.

I give up.

Let me make it up by posting this MV of my dream girl (sorry, Phoebs!), Lee Hyori.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Random K-pop Moment

because this song keeps playing in my head...

Friday, December 5, 2008

The Line

You can't.

Is the only answer to the question, "How do you draw the line?"

Because for some people there's not even a line, just a point--a solitary, insecure point. For the hopeless, the point does not exist. The "point" is actually a piece of lint that looks uncannily like a point, waiting to be flicked off by totally uncaring fingers.

Of course, he tells me the line is there. It's just invisible.

To which I say, "You're so full of it."

Monday, December 1, 2008

Fess Up

Believe me, it's not all about the fear of rejection. It's also about guilt, because when you're about 50 to 80 percent sure that you're going to get rejected, then you know that you're basically placing a huge burden on that person. You're a fool if you think it's just about unloading your feelings. If you've ever been on the receiving end of an "unwanted" confession, you'll understand that feeling flattered is something you'll get over with rather quickly. The natural progression of reactions demands that you feel sorry for Mr. or Ms. Unrequited Love. And that pity my friend, may just be your undoing.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Johari Window Notwithstanding

You Are 4: The Individualist

You are sensitive and intuitive, with others and yourself.

You are creative and dreamy... plus dramatic and unpredictable.

You're emotionally honest, real, and easily hurt.

Totally expressive, others always know exactly how you feel.

At Your Best: You are inspired, artistic, and introspective. You know what you're thinking, and you can communicate it well.

At Your Worst: You are melancholy, alienated, and withdrawn.

Your Fixation: Envy

Your Primary Fear: To have no identity

Your Primary Desire: To find yourself

Other Number 4's: Alanis Morisette, Johnny Depp, J.D. Salinger, Jim Morrison, and Anne Rice.

I knew and Johnny Depp are soulmates! *dies of happiness*

Saturday, November 29, 2008

This Wall Ain't Breaking

I don't understand why quitting is such a huge deal for some people. I think it's perfectly acceptable to give up, to let go, to just say "Screw it!" and storm the hell off. I do believe that even with a faith that can move mountains, there are just some things impervious to change.

A very good friend often tells me that love exists to be conquered. I don't know if it's just apathy or maybe it's the constant state of dejection that afflicts me. But I just have to disagree. I feel that on the whole, that setup is fundamentally unfair. True, there are things we need to work hard for so we'd appreciate them more. But for someone like me, plate full and all, I just don't have the strength nor the time to be dealing with all that sh*t. Am I the only one who feels like this? Maybe not, maybe so...

Monday, November 17, 2008

P.O. Box Kingdom of God

.way to heaven. by ~malta on deviantART

I feel like I'm slowly losing my identity. Maybe it's an occupational hazard, if you consider being part of a family as a full time job. And I don't want to think about resentment, anger, or any negative feeling that takes away from that state of blessedness. Given the life I have had so far - the opportunities, the privileges, I have no right (none, at all) to bemoan the current state of my affairs.

And yet I feel uneasy.

Because try as I might, every look toward the future seems bleak. And it's taking all that I have to just stay afloat. I'm convinced that inevitably, I'll be sucked into a vortex of helplessness.

I pray that God will not begrudge me this gamut of emotions. If only I can salvage the scraps from this excess. Then, I'll have something to build my life raft with...

Thursday, October 30, 2008

More Rhyme, Less Reason

Of what use are the stars and the moon
if within you, are universes yet undiscovered
Dare the sun divert my attention
when around you starts and ends
my revolution

Make then, what you will
of these declarations
Divine my truth with reason or passion
Make then, your projections
save for lies or false intentions

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


Is it the length of the fight or the significance of the cause that matters most in a battle? Of the war I have unwittingly found myself in, these are but secondary considerations. As far as I'm concerned, it's a lifetime battle, where failure is certainly not an option. The same goes for quitting...which is basically the genius of this unit called family. True, you can shun them, disown them even. But you can't really escape them in their entirety.

And that's why I am here, forging ahead, armed with nothing but love and prayer. Because tired as I am (as I have ever been in my entire life), there's no resigning allowed when it comes to family responsibilities. I'm permitted to cry, to feel tired, to question my lot in this world. And maybe, just maybe, that would give me enough reason not to lose this battle.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008


Song lyrics | The Man Who Can't Be Moved lyrics

Best lines:

There are no holes in his shoes
But a big hole in his world...

Monday, October 6, 2008

If You Let Me

promise by ~lostinfield on deviantART

I’ll manufacture your happiness from scraps of joy that fall from the Master’s table. I’ll house your pain in a petri dish of grief that your sadness may grow to flowers of bliss.

I’ll redesign your fate that I’ll bear the scars from your battles. I’ll shoulder your burdens until I’m on my knees and begging for mercy. I’ll break my back until you see the fulfillment of our dreams.

I’ll approach your flaws as markers of a beauty that is yet to blossom. I’ll turn your weaknesses into strongholds of excellence, where the faithless are challenged to believe.

I’ll let you mine my soul, so that people can marvel at the expressions of you in me. I’ll let you make my happiness, as you carry my heart for me…

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Bullshit Fiesta

Its Bullshit by ~chworz on deviantART

because nothing says BS like:

1. A well-placed Latin phrase

Wanna show people you're about as pretentious as Gwyneth's British accent? Then, generously pepper your conversations with "ergo," "quod erat demonstrandum," and "mea culpa." Don't forget to throw in some really obscure ones like "indivisibiliter ac inseparabiliter," "radix malorum est cupiditas," and "abundans cautela non nocet."
Your friends (if you have any at all) will look for your replacement very soon.

2. Quoting bogus statistics

The brilliant folks over at have featured a very informative article about this. Check it out for yourself:

3. Saying "I love you" on the third date

Really, I should just let my good friend Lyndon explain this one. I cannot in good conscience, deliver such lengthy and tortured explanation with a straight face.

4. Capitulating to the demands of your clients

At some point, you'll either need to grow a pair and do something OR just accept that you're doomed to be trapped in the deepest bowels of bullshitropolis. It's your choice. Personally, I pick the latter option. Bullshitropolis is quite lovely this time of the year.

5. A bullshit generator

Truly, a testament to the amazing power of the Internets (Yes, I said Internets, look up your Bushism people...) Anyway, I've tested some of the BS generators out there, and this: IMHO is the best.

By the way, using chat speak doth not bullshit make. It just makes you look like an illiterate douchebag. So for future reference, go easy on the LOLs and the BRBs. I promise, it's for your own good.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Thursday, September 18, 2008

The Romantic-Cynic Dichotomy

It's not: "You complete me." But: "My life would suck less if you are in it."

It's not: "I love you more than sunlight; more than flesh, or joy, or one more day. I love you more than God." But: "I need you because you are my last chance for happiness."

It's not: "Make my happiness, I will make yours." But: "A deal's a deal."

Friday, September 12, 2008

Same Difference
Would you rather be with someone who makes your heart race
so fast that you're actually scared it's going to run away from you?


someone who makes your world stand still
that you have to will your heart to beat
lest your blood stops flowing?

It's all the same to me...

Monday, September 8, 2008

Prayer of St. Gertrude the Great

"Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Most Precious Blood of Thy Divine Son, Jesus, in union with the masses said throughout the world today, for all the holy souls in Purgatory, for sinners everywhere, for sinners in the universal church, those in my own home and within my family. Amen."

*Our Lord dictated the following prayer to St. Gertrude the Great to release 1,000 Souls from Purgatory each time it is said.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Flipping the Bird

There are just some people you wish would get on the express train to hell--people who turn your stomach with their incessant need to talk about themselves; people, whose sole purpose in life is to be a professional annoyance. God, I hope those people would just make like a fetus and head out. (That's absquatulate to you, posers.) I am quite sure the day would come when Mammon would feed on their souls and throw the carcasses to hyenas.

Hmmm, I love the smell of snarkiness in the evening.

Friday, August 29, 2008

Average Jane

"Oh no! She's got self-esteem issues," you might say.

To which, I would reply:

Honestly, I don't mind being an average Jane. (I do take offense when someone calls me a plain Jane, but that's another story.) See, I don't need to be pretty. I believe I have so much more to offer that it would really be just greediness on my part if I get an A+ in the looks department too. Not that I don't care enough about my appearance. I the point that I even have pet names for each visible pore on my forehead. I'm just saying that I acknowledge that on a daily basis, I'm like a 6 or a 6.5. And when I'm feeling extra plucky, I force people to admit that I'm at least a shaky 7 on the attractiveness scale. I have no problems with that at all. Of course, I can aspire to be an 8, even a 9, but let's be honest, that would require some serious cash-burning, which my cheap ass can ill afford. So let’s not go there.

On the other hand, I’m one average Jane with some sick talent and skills in writing. And I tend to go ape-shit when people start criticizing the things I’m really good at. Well, I have learned to control my acerbic tongue from lashing out at idiots who can’t tell good from bad, baaaaad, bizzzzaaadd writing. Seriously, if you can’t even string decent sentences together, you have no friggin’ right to “comment” on someone else’s work, especially if (1) you don’t write for a living (like I do); (2) the rules of basic subject-verb agreement escapes you (unlike me); and (3) you are an idiot. By this time, my point should have hit you like a ton of bricks (weak simile, but what the heck...) I’m saying that yes, I’m an average Jane. And yes, apart from being witty, funny as fuck, and being jolly good fun (even when I’m drunk as a skunk), I am THE average Jane that stands apart from the unholy alliance of all the average Janes in this world.

Well, I guess that makes me highly un-average, after all.

But at least I’m not an idiot…

Thursday, August 28, 2008

What It is About

It's about saving me from myself. It's about calling me on my shit and telling me my brattiness just doesn't cut it. It's about questioning my so-called brilliance, because --trust me--I do need it. It's about the total acceptance of my disgusting habits. It's about the complete understanding that all these flaws make me all the more perfect.

Friday, August 22, 2008


For all the atrocities I have inflicted on humanity, I pride myself in knowing that I have never (knowingly) disrespected the bond between a man and his significant other.

But there's a first time for everything, I must say. And now I'm seriously thinking about committing that sin.

The next time you see me, I may be a card-carrying home-wrecker. I will not be surprised if people point at me and say, "You ma'am, are nothing but a heartless harlot."

It's terrible. (Of course, it is.) But I'm afraid, I'm in too deep.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Love in Technicolor

There is enough magic in the air
that I can almost taste the colors exploding in my mouth.

There is enough magic in the air
that sparks are shooting off my fingertips.

There is enough magic in the air
that I can almost see the twinkle in God's eyes.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Still on the Jo Koy Train

Why is his mom so friggin' awesome?

Get him a cookie!!!

I'm a bitch, man.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Laughing is Good for the Soul

Jo Koy = funny as fuck; i love his mom--his very Filipino mom.

KT Tatara = myth; just because it's against the law of nature to be that cute and that funny...(smart as fuck, too!)

Eric Hutchinson = not a stand-up comic, definitely talented (can't stop listening to his songs: All Over Now, Oh, Food Chain, and so on...; JT got PWND!


Monday, July 7, 2008

Arrow Prayers

Dear God, help me make it through this day. I'm not feeling well and there's still a mountain of tasks to finish.

Dear God, please watch over my loved ones. Keep them safe and let them always feel your presence in their lives.

Dear God, grant me the patience to deal with my problems...if not patience then the strength to be silent. Grant me peace as well, to successfully enclose myself in that silence.

Dear God, bridge the gaps in my understanding, for today more than any other day I am feeling what it means to be human.

Dear God, just be with me in this moment.

Pix Credit:

Monday, June 16, 2008


Deep down, I have always known that knights in shining armor and charming princes astride white horses can't possibly exist, at least not in this--my dimension. And in the interest of being pragmatic, I have always betted on the guy who tells me he'll get his shit together and come through for me, for us. And I have never questioned this as anything other than the law of nature, self-evident and intrinsically worthwhile.

But now, I am forced to rethink every single thing I have held to be true. And all of it debunks the myths I have culled from years of playing by the rules of the Human Interaction Stock Exchange.

Needless to say, I am utterly lost, totally, without a doubt lost. And it's too late to send out a distress call. The world, as far as I'm concerned, has shut itself off. I have yet to discover hope, to learn the nuances of faith, to understand the magic, if not the futility of miracles.

Monday, June 9, 2008


How you said, "Next time, I promise to love you first."
And how you told me, "I will look for you and you cannot hide from me."
Or how you stared into my eyes as if to say, "Not even lifetimes can keep us apart."

I believed it all.

How I waited. And waited some more.
Because here I was, and there you were.
So close and yet worlds apart.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Cognitive Dissonance

I think that it's unfair to burden me with your expectations. I'm not nor would I ever be the perfect girl. My flaws--they number by the thousands and multiply by the second, which in time would exponentially saw off the edges of our souls.

The package, you see, is deceiving. The littlest eyes that hide behind the glasses, they process people, pets, plants, streets, and groceries by a five-minute filtering system, devoid of political correctness or any belief system.

And the challenge for you, is not to reconcile what you uphold to be real with what is. The challenge is to stay, just stay until you have mapped out the paradoxes, the inner cathedral of my being.

The challenge is to stop leaving. Stop leaving and stay with me...

Friday, June 6, 2008

Love Will Keep Us Together

"Have you been gargling with bong water?"

"Love to! Love the bag, love the shoes, love everything. Love to!" (Okay, this one is actually from My Best Friend's Wedding, but what the heck, I love this clip.)

Monday, June 2, 2008


quote. –verb (used with object)
to repeat (a passage, phrase, etc.) from a book, speech, or the like, as by way of authority, illustration, etc. (quote. Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. (accessed: June 01, 2008).)

cauterize. –verb (used with object), -ized, -iz·ing.
to burn with a hot iron, electric current, fire, or a caustic, esp. for curative purposes; treat with a cautery. (cauterize. Unabridged (v 1.1). Random House, Inc. (accessed: June 01, 2008).)

1. There was a moment last night, when she was sandwiched between the two Finnish dwarves and the Maori tribesmen, where I thought, "Wow, I could really spend the rest of my life with this woman."--Zoolander

2. I happen to know everything there is to know about maple syrup. I love maple syrup! I love maple syrup on pancakes, I love it on pizza! I love to take maple syrup and put a little bit in my hair when I've had a rough week. What do you think holds it up slick?--Wedding Crashers

3. Dude, I service society by rocking. I’m out there on the front lines liberating people with my music. Rocking ain’t no walk in the park, lady.--School of Rock

4. "Heart... miles and miles of heart."--The Replacements

5. Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.--Princess Bride

(quoterized v.2. to follow)

AN: Pix totally unrelated to the post...

Monday, May 26, 2008


You are not much different from the others. Of course, you claim to be special, the antithesis of every man, who has come before you. But let me tell you this...your being different, your being special, I have no use for these things. True, I may not know if it will be sooner or later. But I am quite sure that in the end, you will say the same thing, "I am just a man." And you will leave. And you will wish that you did not say how different you are. And you will be sorry for the efforts you have invested to make me believe in you. And I will cry, yet again. Because maybe, just maybe, I am still like every woman--trying uncertain things at the cost of everything.

Friday, May 23, 2008

Reposted: The Love Letter That Couldn't Write Itself

Words have never failed me. In fact, my biggest consolation in life is that I can always articulate what I know, how I feel and who I am at any point, any way, any junction of life as it unfolds before me. I have never had a problem with searching for the right words, they find me instead, sometimes none too subtly.

My guess is that my writing muse abandoned me, not when I met you, but because I let you take over her space in my head. I imagine her pain as i let the auteur in me slowly atrophy, to a point beyond recognition. You overwhelmed me with emotions and caused me to exist outside myself, the self that delights in weaving yarns and expressing the soul. You were context and subtext, every theme and reason. I was consumed in all the wrong places, robbed of sanity and speech. And only in the cruelest hand of fate, will retaliation be exacted upon me. I cannot be regretful enough for my muse to forgive me. And she has served me with enough ironic sense to let me write you a letter that chokes upon writing itself...I cannot help but try.

And so, a thousand considerations blur the peripheries of my lucidity. I begin to feel physically ill as I struggle through emotions I couldn't identify. The onerous task of projecting thoughts to paper is one that I never feared before. I wanted to dispense with the cliches, the sentimentality, the sheer banality of it all. But there's a greater need for me to have you realize, to have you experience--even for a moment, the chaos in me. For how could you know that you are the axis of my world...That my need to exist is eclipsed by my need for you. Didn't you know that my happiness hinges upon your understanding? If this letter fails, the dam that holds my pain in will break and my soul will shatter.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Newfound Appreciation for Noel Gallagher

I have been listening to this song (this particular version) for two weeks.

I may be developing Asperger's syndrome.

Noel is my new Barney...

Monday, May 12, 2008

Putting LOA to the Test

Happiness is just a few days away.

And it's all because of my renewed faith in the universe.

Monday, May 5, 2008


When I'm profoundly drunk, I like to believe I'm a better person than I truly am. I like to pretend that all the meaningless things I have done, are nothing but natural effects to natural causes. I like to delude myself into thinking that I am much smarter in person, even if reality tells a different story...that I have as much appeal as peeling wallpaper. And that come the daylight, I will sober up and realize how much of a lie I AM.

Pix Credit:

Friday, April 25, 2008

Office Politics

Okay, a) this is nothing at all like my current work situation, b) but it does remind me of my first boss--kinda spot on, actually, c) except for the "I AM THIS CLOSE TO RAPING YOU" part, d) which is not to say that the trident incident never happened...because it did, only I was stabbed 15 times instead of Tarkanian's 33.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Stream of Consciousness V.2

because my Yahoo 360 blog is dead...

Thursday October 12, 2006 - 09:51pm

It's never gonna happen for us. For some reason, we totally missed the window of opportunity there. The timing's never right, or maybe I'm never ever right. Either way, I need something more to hold onto, and you need something, something that's not me. I'm hardly ever self-sacrificing, but we've been at it for years. We hint at possibilities and we toy at the idea of the idea of a relationship, but somehow I doubt if I'm ever gonna be on the same page as you are. I'm essentially damaged, tragically flawed. And you tell me you wanna take that on, but how can I in good conscience, let you. It's just never gonna happen for us and I'm really, really sorry.

Saturday October 28, 2006 - 12:38pm

This is the guy I wanna marry:
He's lazy, he's a brilliant tactician and I never thought I'll use those words in the same sentence. Nara shikamaru is 60 points more brilliant than me and the only way I can get him interested in me is if I reincarnate as a logic problem. He's not motivated at all to do anything. I'd be content just to watch the clouds roll by with him. I heart Shikamaru.

Wednesday December 20, 2006 - 02:53pm

I realize that gratitude is a process, not complicated, sure, but it can never be formulaic--doing so will only negate its significance. These days, I'm learning that being thankful requires effort, patience and grace--three things that can only be sourced from above. One thing I know today is that acceptance is more than the end stage in the grieving process, it is actually a subset of gratefulness...

*toying with the idea of resurrecting the dead*

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

20/20 Vision

"Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses," so said Dorothy Parker because...

well, frankly I have no freaking clue. Maybe she got so traumatized by an encounter with a meganekko. Who the hell knows? Still, if her wikistub is to be believed (, and that really is her with the ridiculously ginormous hat, then I would have to assume that a) the stupid thing is impairing her sense of humor or b) her sense of humor is fully intact and the statement above was uttered satirically. In which case, I would seriously urge all the girls who wear glasses to march or simply burn said glasses. Of course, that wouldn't help our case at all, but the point is...

long lost, which can be said for all my random randomosities and inane musings. I don't really care, after all Holden (Caulfield) "prefers digression."

Friday, April 11, 2008


If people knew how much I constantly watch them, they'd make sure I was locked in a padded cell...

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Preference Versus Possibilities

I prefer Wislawa to Sylvia and believe in all the possibilities implied by that preference...

By W. Szymborska

Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
it must eat and breathe air and sleep,
it has thin skin and blood right underneath,
an adequate stock of teeth and nails,
its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.

Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it shuddered
before the founding of Rome and after,
in the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it's just the earth that's grown smaller,
and whatever happens seems right on the other side of the wall.

Nothing has changed. It's just that there are more people,
besides the old offenses new ones have appeared,
real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
but the howl with which the body responds to them,
was, is and ever will be a howl of innocence
according to the time-honored scale and tonality.

Nothing has changed. Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances.
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks and tries to pull away,
its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
it turns blue, swells, salivates and bleeds.

Nothing has changed. Except for the course of boundaries,
the line of forests, coasts, deserts and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves away,
alien to itself, elusive, at times certain, at others uncertain of its own existence,
while the body is and is and is
and has no place of its own.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Auction (a.k.a Sold to the Wimpy Guy Wearing a Trucker Cap)

While in this lifetime, I'll never be anything other than a writer, I am convinced that I'll make a good auctioneer--who knows, maybe in the 25th century. Seriously, my experience in fleshing out a character ought to come in handy during those bids. Of course, with my personality I'm much more suited to the atmosphere of livestock auctions, rather than Sotheby's. Still, it makes for an interesting (not to mention rather unusual) career choice. And there's nothing more appealing to me than the "unusual." Heck, my whole life has been (and still is) a testament to the wonders of the "unusual."

And so, without further ado, please enjoy this clip.

AN: I disclaim. And yes, I can also sell things "to the man with the bigger breasts." Toodles!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Fuzzy Memories

Me: I get it. Fan of self-flagellation, are you?
You: Get over yourself. I'm here because I see you're looking a bit dead behind the eyes.
Me: Sure, you are. I don't recall ever asking for a rescuer.
You: Suit yourself. I hate rabid fan girls anyway.
Me: Oh, I hope you're not talking about me, Mr. Pornographer.
You: You're calling me, Mr. Pornographer? That's rich.
Me: And true. Don't forget true.
You: Only if you admit that you're in denial.
Me: In denial about what?
You: Your everlasting love for my person.
Me: If by your person, you mean disgusting pig with the sensitivity of a dumb bell...
You: Just admit it.
Me: I'll admit to your stupidity. In fact, I'll vouch for it.
You: Fine. I'll give you this round. But only because I'm convinced you harbor such strong feelings for me.
Me: You are psychotic and you should get your head examined.
You: Wow. You really, REALLY like me.
Me: End of conversation.
You: Next time, there'll be tears.
Me: You wish, idiot.
You: Buh-bye now, fangirl. I'll look forward to our next battle.
Me: You're still an idiot.
You: We'll see.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Worst Matches

I think I will never be in a relationship with a mathematician. It's because I'm scared that I'll be exposed for the idiot that I really am. Here's the thing. Most of the time I really don't give a rat's ass about most of everything, but then again, I have enough pride for five people. So if I decide to argue my case, know that not only will I fight till I'm blue in the face, I'll fight until my opponent admits defeat.

Now, if I'm dating a mathematician, I don't want to ever be in the position where he'll be able to make his point using equations and formulas. God forbid that I'll be all "Oh no, you didn't!" (head movement a la Beyonce plus finger snap trademarked by proud sistahs)...and he'll be like, "Well, according to Riemann's hypothesis..." The outcome of that conversation will be absolute crap, at least from my point of view. He'll win hands down and I'll be left with an unstoppable nosebleed. Not the prettiest picture, I must say.

Magicians. Now, there's an interesting demographic. In the middle of a fight, I don't want a guy to be pulling rabbits out of my ass. And if he tries to pull any now-you-see-me-now-you-don't trick on me, I'll slap myself silly six ways till Sunday. Shame on me for picking such a weirdo. Note to self: One weirdo in a relationship is enough. Guess, I'll just have to look for magic someplace else.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Crushing on Myself

I don't want to use the term 'soulmate.' It's just too . . . what's the word? Oh yeah, icky icky poo (shoutout to the always fabulous perezhilton!!!) But then again, how can I describe Joel McHale in relation to my sarcastic yet weirdly lovable self?

Watch this video and worship the greatness that is Joel Mchale.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Manga Addiction

Thank goodness for scanlations. My manga habits are becoming worse by the second. Crunchyroll and onemanga--you both are more dear to me than personal hygiene and 0.55 percent of my soul. I love you more than growing dust bunnies in my hair. I love you more than my collection of toenail clippings. Seriously, if I can have crunchyroll and onemanga's baby, I'd sacrifice my vajayjayjayjay forty times over. I love you crunchyroll. I love you onemanga. Let's watch sunsets and sunrises from 18 different cliffs from now on. Kissy, kissy. Bang. Bang. Bang.

You kill me. And it feels so right...

Wednesday, February 20, 2008


"Who do I write for?" is not a question. Because this blog is not about being read, it's about being written (to quote extensively from In that respect, writing is like masturbation. It's all about need and self-gratification. Sometimes, guilt does come into play. But when the process is done right, in terms of environment and mood, writing can be healthy for both body and soul.

Of course, for the most part (stretching the metaphor further), writing can be a frustrating, discouraging task. Do it often, and soon you'll see that you are slowly desensitizing yourself from the whole experience. I am a writer 'tis true. But to normalize writing is not something I am keen on doing. Writing must always hint or obviously convey an elitist, specialist vibe. It's an understanding that mere mortals must not attempt to inflict their prosaic selves on an audience. And on that note, I may have paradoxed myself into a corner. Nevertheless, I will continue to write for myself--even if a singular collective or plural individual takes the time to read this self-absorbed piece.

Sunday, February 17, 2008


People say that the best version of me is when I am with you. And somehow, it makes sense, considering who we are and what we mean to each other.

But I have my way, my need to complicate things. And you, you have your way of hating me for it. You tell me that I am incapable of happiness . . . that wallowing in self-pity helps me validate my existence. You see this as unnecessary. I see it as self-preservation.

It turns out that I am not satisfied with the best version of myself, after all. Because maybe, just maybe, being me and being with you, is not what I am living my life for.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Tabula Rasa

Oh yeah, I swiped this picture from Jan's friendster. Global Gutz was a fitting sendoff. Of course, I wished all sem-art folks were in attendance. But really, I was just glad people came--the whole thing not bein' free and all.

Thing is, it hasn't really sunk in that I've left the sinkhole that was my workplace. A part of me is very much relieved, while another part wonders what would have happened to me, if I stayed. And then there's the part that's just all excited 'bout the new job. I am so looking forward to sightseeing in Greece, eating fusion Vietnamese/French cuisine, and just visiting friends in Australia and Canada (hopefully, the last two...basta I don't want to jinx it).

I'm missing a lot of things, I know. For now, I'm going to busy myself with wiping the slate clean.

Gong Xi Fa Cai!!!

Monday, January 21, 2008

Needing to Regroup
Today, I am betting on your maybe. Because maybe is good enough, at least for now. And today, I am gladly sacrificing my pride. Because between us, there is no such luxury. Today, you are the prayer on my lips. Because more than anything, I want God to champion our cause. And today, I am as you are--unsure but willing. Because chances have come and gone. But for us, the perfect moment is still at large.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Can't Get Enough

My latest obsession...

Starting to develop a girl-crush on Hayley Williams. Right up there with ninjas.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Make Your Move

I am worried. Because the days are passing and I have not heard from you. And I know that I am in the process of missing you, except that you no longer appear in my dreams. And the questions that have no answers no longer keep me awake at night. There are moments when I realize how comfortable I am in both our silence. That my heart no longer stops at the mention of your name, nor does it race when you speak of mine. I even forget who you are and what your face looks like. And maybe that's not such a big tragedy.

Image credit:

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Delusions of Grandeur

9 AM:

Oprah calls and begs me to come to her show. I tell her, "Have my people call your people. You know I can never refuse you." Meanwhile, one of my personal assistants mouths the words, "Johnny Depp on line 2." I nod and quickly end my conversation with Oprah.

"Johnny, stop sending me messages. I'm Mrs. Krasinski now, you have to respect that." Before I can send this text message, ten delivery guys show up, asking one of my people to receive the 100 pale pink peonies from Mr. Depp. I just sigh in exasperation and ask assistant number 7 to take care of this problem.

8 PM:

Because it has been confirmed that I am appearing on The Oprah Winfrey Show, designers promptly send outfits from their latest collections, and I literally have my pick of the litter. I owe Donatella, but Marc Jacobs is celebrating his birthday soon. I decide that I'll decide some other time when I'm more up to the task.

Day of the Show

10 AM:

So I still can't decide on what, or more to the point, who to wear. I then ask assistant number 3 to get me some banana leaves, coconut husks, and lots of double-sided tape. I work on the dress for a bit, taping bits here and there. I have my hair done, and I'm all ready to leave the house.

1 PM:

I get to the studio and people usher me to the green room. Oprah drops by and her jaw drops in amazement as she proclaims my dress to be "truly avant-garde and tres chic." I give her air kisses and promise to entertain the audience to the best of my abilities. Oprah tells me, I don't have to do that because quite frankly, she opines, "You are the best thing since life populated this planet." I humbly accept her praise and wait for the show to start taping.

(end of part 1)

Image Credit:

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Bad Wife

Two years ago, I posted this entry on my other blog (dated Dec. 23, 2006):

If there's one thing that's more precious to me than all the gold in the universe, it's probably sleep or sleeping or you know that thing that's the exact opposite of wakefulness? yeah, you get it now, i don't have to go to a lengthy explanation bout it. you know how they say "magbiro ka na sa lasing wag lang sa bagong gising?" well that should clue you in. there's a particular quirk to my body and my personality that's anchored on the sleep gene. i'm boorish by nature but it's nothing compared to what i become whenever my sleep is interrupted. some people get nasty when they're not fed, i get testy when i don't get my 8-hour sleep. of course that alone is an accomplishment for me, my circadian rhythm is synchronized to a 36-hour schedule. i'm a freak sure, but even if i'm only napping, people should never, and i mean NEVER wake me for some petty reason like the house is on fire or the president of the country has come to visit...NEVER. it's not just rude, it throws off my sleep-wake cycle out of the orbit, which makes me homicidal and makes me want to use the most colorful language in my arsenal, the kind that puts sailors to shame. it's not pretty, well it never is, but that's not the point. the point is, LET ME SLEEP. i promise you giving me and my body all the time it needs to rest, is your only hope of ever seeing the "nice" side of me. it's not a myth.

Two days ago:

I got into a fight. Actually, it wasn't really a fight, 'cause I was doing all the shouting and channeling the all-powerful Mrs. Grumpykins.

Bottomline: Nobody should ask me weird questions when I'm still sleeping.

Bad Wife Connection:

Woe to the man who asks me for nookie in the wee hours of the morning. Ditto for preparing breakfast and milking the cow (in case I marry a farmer...).

Image credit:

Friday, January 4, 2008

Audio Chocolate

free video hosting
Free Video Hosting

Still have to thank Joseph for introducing me to the awesomeness that is Up Dharma Down...

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Last Laugh

So evil, it makes me want to slit my wrists. Still, it's mighty fantastic.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

2008 Mantra

If there's ever a reason to watch Why Why Love . . .

江小南:"你知不知道 我們隨時都要做好下一秒談戀愛的準備
誰知道 緣份會不會己經悄悄展開了
誰知道 愛神的箭是不是己經射中我們
又誰知道 那個白馬王子不會駕著馬車來接我們呢?
當然 時代不同了
總之 我有預感

Jiang Xiao Nan: "Do you know we all have to be prepared because we may fall in love in the next second. Who knows, fate could be quietly launching? Who knows, cupid's arrow could be shooting right at us? And who knows, that our prince charming won't be fetching us in his horse carriage? Of course, it's a different generation now. He may be driving a sports car, or a cool motorbike. Anyway, I have a premonition he is coming soon."

Quote from:

Image Credit: