Shiteous Day

Quite possibly, one of the worst days of my life. I'm so sick of everything--not having enough money, a shitty love life, a fucking zit on my face. Goddammit, I don't even care that I'm blaspheming, I just hate this crappy, crappy day. Fuck everything to hell, I fucking hate me.

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

You Are an Espresso

At your best, you are: straight shooting, ambitious, and energetic At your worst, you are: anxious and high strung You drink coffee when: anytime you're not sleeping Your caffeine addiction level: high

What Kind of Coffee Are You?

Paper Cut

glitter-graphics.com

As far as I'm concerned, the z-component is overrated. I, for one, will not mind having an anime character as my boyfriend. Take Toshiro Hitsugaya for example. In many ways, our similarities are downright freaky. We both dislike summer and warm weather. He can smell bullshit from miles away. I can too, but on a more limited radius (about 2 inches is my estimate). Damn the effin 2-D/3-D barrier! Such a friggin' waste.

Shikamaru, my one true love (at the moment), despairs our not having enough skinship. Anyway, my genius boyfriend will someday find a solution for this problem. And when that happens, I will prepare to execute Temari and Ino-chan.

While I'm having a damned difficult time choosing from the Ouran boys, it's no secret that Mitsukuni "Hunny" Haninozuka is the nearest and dearest to my weird heart. We share a cursed love for sweets and a streak of violence brought on when our naps are rudely interrupted. We are compatible in almost all levels, including the part where people think we are part-alien, part-human.

Wish List

Okay, I don't know what the hell the last image is supposed to be, but what the heck it's cute and it's fluffy. In short, it gets to stay! Only 3 more days before the big day and I'm still feeling a little peaked. I do reckon, the virus or whatever it is will be dead by tomorrow. There's just no way I'm going to let a lil sickness get in the way of my celebration. Of course, the best part of birthdays (even though my youth is officially over)--> gifts. So for those who are wondering what the hell they can give me, here's the official list of "acceptable" presents. Please know that if your gifts suck, I can and I will exchange them for something better. Nothing personal, it's just the way I am.

1. Any book by David Sedaris. Although Me Talk Pretty One Day is the top choice.
2. Any cutesy, anime-related stuff. Hint: Kakashi or Shikamaru chibi items
3. Baby tee with cute print. Funky and badass prints are most welcome.
4. Trip to Thailand. Hehehehe...really, really miss Badzie.
5. A rockin' guitar. Anyone from Cebu care to send me one?

That's it for now. The list is actually pointless for only the Jee-Man knows what I really, really want for my birthday. Honestly, if you greet me on my birthday and send some positive vibes my way, that's good enough for me. Don't believe my "spoiled brat" spiel just now. You know, I'm just messing with your head.

Happy Birthday everyone! Well, actually just me. Still, I can't see anything wrong with it.

Ja ne!

Under the Weather

I don't think it's fair for me to be sick on my birthday. So I guess, I'll just have to pretend that my throat doesn't feel scratchy at all, my head is not as heavy as lead, and my ears are not as plugged as (insert metaphor here). I guess if I can harness the power of the "Law of Attraction" to stop the war in Iraq, I can definitely stop this virus from giving me a cold. I have the worst immune system in the planet. And that's not discounting HIV patients . . . although, it may be the cold that's making me say all these stupid things. Ah-choo!

In Denial

glitter-graphics.com

1. Honestly, what color is your underwear? BLACK

2. Honestly, what's on your mind right now? I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT.

3. Honestly, what are you doing right now? BLOGGING INSTEAD OF WRITING, WRITING, AND MORE WRITING

4. Honestly, what did you do today? I ATE, I POOPED, I'M ABOUT TO CONQUER.

5. Honestly, do you think you are attractive? I HAVE MY DAYS.

6. Honestly, have you done something bad today? I'M ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING REALLY BAD TODAY.

7. Honestly, do you watch disney channel? HONESTLY, EVERYBODY WATCHES DISNEY,EVEN REALLY OLD FOLKS JUST WAITING TO KICK OFF.

8. Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? YES, BUT I'M NOT ABOUT TO NAME NAMES.

9. Honestly, what makes you happy most of the time? MY FAMILY, CHEESIEST ANSWER AS THAT MAY SOUND.

10. Honestly, do you bite your nails? NO, NO COMPULSION WHATSOEVER TO DO SO.

11. Honestly, what is your mood right now? BLAH.

12.Honestly, have you had an eating disorder? ALWAYS.

13. Honestly, do you want to see someone this very minute? YES.

14. Honestly, do you have a deep dark secret? OF COURSE.

16. Honestly, do you hate someone right now? HATE--PROBABLY NOT. ANNOYED AT--DEFINITELY.

17. Honestly, who/what do you want to hug right now? IKUTA TOMA, HONEST TO GOD!

18. Honestly, are you in denial? I'VE NEVER KNOWN A DAY WHEN I WASN'T IN DENIAL.

19. Honestly, wouldn't you rather be having sex right now? I'M ABSTAINING, BUT HELL YEAH!

20. Honestly, do you like someone? I REALLY LIKE SOMEONE RIGHT NOW, BUT HE'S TAKEN.

If My Life Was a Poem

La Reina

Pablo Neruda

Yo te he nombrando reina.
I have appointed you Queen.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
There are those more slender than you, more slender.
Hay más puras que tú, más puras.
There are those purer than you, purer.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
There are those fairer than you, fairer.

Ero tú eres la reina
But you are Queen.

Cuando vas por las calles
As you walk the streets
nadie te reconoce.
Nobody recognizes you.
Nadie ve tú corona de cristal, nadie mira
Nobody sees your crown of crystal, nobody notices
la alfombra de oro rojo
The red and gold carpet
que pisas cuando pasas,
You tread wherever you go,
la alfrombra que no existe.
The carpet that does not exist.

Y cuando asomas
And when you appear
suenan todos los ríos
All the rivers
en mi cuerpo,
Of my body ripple
sacuden el cielo las campanas,
bells Make the skies tremble
y un himno llena el mundo
And a song of praise fills the world.

Sóló tú y yo,
Only you and I,
sóló tú y yo, amor mío,
Only you and I, my love,
lo escuchamos.
Can hear it.


Translation by: Anna Öberg

Tooty Patooty

Cutest TV Couples

1. Pam and Jim - The Office
2. Felicity and Ben - Felicity
3. Yuan Xiang Qin and Jiang Zhi Shu - It Started With A Kiss
4. Shin Chae-kyung and Lee Shin - Goong
5. Lu Rui Xi and Zuo Yi Quan - Hana Kimi (Taiwan)
6. Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd - Grey's Anatomy
7. Gregory House and Lisa Cuddy - House, M.D.
8. Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler - 24
9. Eric Forman and Donna Pinciotti - That '70s Show
10. Kat Warbler and Ethan Haas - The Class

Excited!

This is Not a Poem

Biography In the First Person

(an homage to Stephen Dunn)

This is not the way I am.

Really, I am much thinner in person,

the hairline I reveal reaches backto my grandmother,

and the shyness my mother will not believe in

has always been why I was bold on first meetings.

My father was never a crack salesman.

I meant to save his pines, the small acclamations I shall show my friends.

And the conscience I keep by my bed was his, too; an heirloom.

I am somewhat older than you can tell.

The early deaths have started to decompose behind my eyes,

leaving lines apparently caused by smiling.

My voice sometimes reflects the time I believed in prayer

as a way of getting what I wanted.

I am none of my clothes.

My poems are rarely true.

The games I play and how I play them

are the arrows you should follow: they'll take youto the enormous body of a child.

It is not that simple.

At parties I have been known to remove from the bookshelf the kind of book

that goes best with my dress.

My habits in bed are so perverse that they differentiate me from no one.

And I prefer soda, the bubbles just after it's opened,

to anyone who just lies there.

Be careful: I am desperate to make you believe in me.

When I come home at night after pouring my soul unto paper,

I want to search the universe and pick its brains.

Oh, I am much less flamboyant than this.

If you ever meet me, I'll be the one with a wreath of peonies.

pix credit: http://zemotion.deviantart.com/art/Avatar-64077930

Dialogue in the First Person

I: He has a girlfriend.

Me: I could have told you that.

Myself: No, you should have kept that information secret.

I: Signs suck.

Me: Yes, they do. But I keep reading them anyway.

Myself: Don't be upset about a bunch of random letters.

I: I am happy.

Me: I am content.

Myself: I am lying through my teeth.

I: Where is hope?

Me: It lies within me.

Myself: ... even if I'm all prayed out.

I: He has a girlfriend.

Me: He has a girlfriend.

Myself: It doesn't matter that much now.

Pix credit: http://azurylipfe.deviantart.com/art/Tarot-Three-of-Swords-45095340

Artist Watch

Holes Inside
Joe Brooks

When all that you’ve tried, leaves nothing but holes inside,
It seems like you’re wired, to stay here held in time,
Cause nothing seems to change, oh no.
No nothing’s gonna change, at all.
I can see it in your face, the hope has gone astray.
But if you hold tight, shadows will be lost in the light.
Oh cause sometimes, fate and your dreams can collide.
So don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me.
Your feet are stuck, no they cannot move,
Don’t tell me that they’re glued,
Yeah they’re far from.
At home, at ease but give sometime to breathe,
Cause nothing seems to change, oh no.
No nothing’s gonna change, at all.
I can see it in your face, the hope has gone away.
But if you hold tight, shadows will be lost in the light.
Oh cause sometimes, fate and your dreams can collide.
So don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me.
Cause everthing will be ok,
I know that it’s so easy to say,
But the pain inside will fade,
Please tell me that you’ll stay.
Cause if you hold tight, shadows will be lost in the light.
Oh cause sometimes, fate and your dreams can collide.
So don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me,
Don’t walk away from me.

Other Side of the World

Other Side of the World
KT Tunstall

Over the sea and far away
She's waiting like an iceberg
Waiting to change
But she's cold inside
She wants to be like the water

All the muscles tighten in her face
Buries her soul in one embrace
They're one and the same
Just like water

The fire fades away
Most of everyday
Is full of tired excuses
But it's to hard to say
I wish it were simple
But we give up easily
You're close enough to see that
You're the other side of the world to me

On comes the panic light
Holding on with fingers and feelings alike
But the time has come
To move along

The fire fades away

Can you help me
Can you let me go
And can you still love me
When you can't see me anymore

The fire fades away

Faith in the Unseen

Kakashi by ~lenkapittnerova on deviantART
I cannot trust someone who follows the rules all the time. Their motivations are, of course, subject to suspicion. You have to wonder if playing by-the-book is something they do to cover their asses, or is dictated by compulsions that are way out of their control. I'd rather deal with the bottom-line type of guy--the guy who gives you results, not contingency plans. If it makes us look like assholes, so be it. I honestly feel it's better to be labeled an ass than a tightwad. I say, to hell with the rules, to hell with being punished. That is the essence of being deviant, after all. John Mayer may espouse the idea of having no room for squares, but I do operate in the spirit of tolerance. If you, however, need the rules, this is not the place for you. I say, long live the freaks of nature!

Happy Birthday Mrs. Rodriguez

...Cake by ~Kasy-05 on deviantART
I just wish you the best of health, lots of money (don't worry, mananalo din tayo sa lotto), and yes mga cute at bibong apo. I'm working on the last part, but God isn't cooperating...yet. Nay, please watch what you eat and cut down your cola intake. Ano pa ba? Ano kayang regalo ni tatay sa'yo? Baka it's in the heart na naman. :) Di bale, pag yumaman talaga ako, trip tayo around the world!

Sasabihin ko pa ba? You're the best! Wala kang katulad. Ikaw ang pinakabatang 63-year old nanay sa tanang kaharian. You're a queen, and no, I'm not asking you for money this time. Hahahahaha. May God bless You and your four (wonderful) children.

Atypical

skinny,skinnier,skinniest. by ~wednursedead on deviantART
It wasn't exactly a chance meeting, which I am absolutely happy for. If you saw me, I'd probably fake an amnesia or some cognition-impairing disease. Right now, I am the devil for saying this, but I'm glad we did not end up together. If 2004-me knew what 2007-you looks like, well, let's just say, a lot of crying could have been avoided. Oh my God, I am so going to hell for this. But nobody can fault me for being happy. After all, you did ruin me. I can finally put the past to rest. Sweet Jesus, that was the best gift ever. Thank you so, so much.

Bribery and Desperation

Okay, here's my offer. In exchange for a year of good deeds, I want a guy that looks like LJK. Tell You what, I'm giving You the creative freedom to decide the accoutrements--race, hair length, medical history. But, don't expect me to budge on the height/age/IQ requirement. At the very least, the bloke should be straight. I'm okay with You going bat-shit crazy with the little details. Besides, my birthday is less than two-months away. Say that You'll at least consider. I'm not gonna renege on the good-deeds bit, I promise (well, You know what I mean). So what say You? C'mon don't make me beg. Please, please, please!!!

Full Disclosure

In classic Liz Lemon style,

Here's all my weird secret (and not-so-secret) stuff...

I never caught a dragonfly, either through sheer stupidity or just plain rotten luck.

When I was four or five, I thought my cousin's house was the entire Cavite area. Of course, when I got lost on the way to the local sari-sari, I had to ask their neighbor, "nasan po ang Cavite?" Needless to say, I still get ribbed for that shtick up to this day.

I used to act out scenes from local drama films. This was sometime in the mid-80s.

In the middle of one scene, I peed my shorts, but professional that I was, I didn’t stop until the scene was over.

I failed Statistics and Calculus ('nuff said).

My kindergarten teacher whacked my hands with a ruler when she saw my dirty fingernails. This perhaps explains my unhealthy obsession with making my nails as pudpod as possible.

The first time I used a sanitary napkin, I thought girls were supposed to use the adhesive side to capture "everything." In case, you are wondering, that really, really hurt!

At any given moment, whenever people ask me if I'm Chinese, the BS artist in me prods me to say, "No, I'm Vietnamese/Cambodian/Hawaiian."

I cannot take a bath without spraying the four corners of the bathroom with perfume.

On several occasions, I have challenged God to a duel.

I hate Sarah Geronimo. I know, I know, even Melo tells me she's all sweetness and light. Maybe it's synchronicity, or some shit like that. Something tells me, she murdered my family in the 14th Century. I could be wrong.

Lines

Some of my favorite lines (poems, movies, songs) . . .

For every thousand conversations

it participates in one,

if even that,

since it prefers silence.
--"A Few Words on the Soul," Wislawa Szymborska

Passion and silence,
Every word, every line, a measure,
It's the science of the soul
-- "Sophia," Nerina Pallot

And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
--Iris, "The Holiday"

Look, for some reason, Felicity cares about me. And on a good day, I feel like I might become everything she sees in me. It is because of that, it is because of about a million other reasons that she means pretty much the world to me.
--Ben Covington, "Felicity"

To be loved means to be consumed. To love is to give light with inexhaustible oil. To be loved is to pass away, to love is to endure.
--"An Intimate Correspondence," Rilke and Benvenuta

Crushed

A crush meant painting my toenails electric blue so you'd notice. It meant teasing my hair, but this was way back in the eighties, before the toenails and my obsession with Felicity. Crushes meant relinquishing the teacher's pet title and making you feel like you were better at math. It meant laughing at your jokes, even if they really suck. Sometimes it meant listening to you whine about a classmate--your soulmate according to your dreams. It meant hours of conversation that started with Keanu Reeves and ended with me bashing Britney Spears. Other times it meant crying my heart out, while my roomies sleep, seeking the bathroom as witness to my pathetic existence. And then there were times it meant seeing the back of your head, thinking to myself, "Oh God, I am ruined." It meant nights of tossing and turning, wondering, praying for the significance of a gesture, a word. And now, I discovered it meant subjecting yourself to the possibilities--the good, the bad, the ugliest. It meant accepting defeat. It meant promises to oneself, that this should never happen...never again.

Last Full Show

I'm no Roger Ebert, but I found Ratatouille, on the whole to be a palatable feast for the eyes. And while I'm secretly wishing for streaks of creativity to infuse this review of sorts, truth is, I'm still smashed from lack of sleep. Therefore, do not expect a Pulitzer-winning piece. This is just me mouthing off, expressing my unsolicited two cents...

There were of course, some very disturbing scenes--rats cooking swordfish, tenderizing meat, and the like. Obviously, hygiene and rats do not even make sense when used in the same sentence. But on the whole, the idea was a novel one. I really liked the ambiguity of Ego's character and the supporting cast (Collete, Linguini, and the-character-voiced-by-Will-Arnett-whose-name-I-forgot) amplified the whole comic effect. Relatability-wise, I'm ashamed to admit that I'm totally like Remy's brother Emile. I'd probably just hork everything down. But after Ratatouille, I don't know. Maybe, I'll leave my job and become a food critic. Jules from My Best Friend's Wedding, can you hear me???

http://www.linternaute.com/sortir/cinema/diaporama/06/evenements-2007/ratatouille.jpg

Tattered Jeans

Call me obsessed, but there's not a lot of time before August 25. The goal of course, is to be able to fit in my size 25 tattered jeans before d-day. I just don't exactly know if that's possible, given the way I eat and exercise. Needless to say, I have to write about it here, because for some reason I cannot seem to budge the extra inches off my waist and thighs.

I guess, one of the nastiest habits I should get rid of is eating like a pig on weekends. Really, there's no describing it. It's bound to scare the most compulsive eater in the history of mankind. This week, I feel is better, because (1) I'm not really starving myself, and (2) I put in my minutes of working out. Although, I could probably take it up a notch by (1) doing more cardio, and (2) foregoing the sweets and nibbles especially at night.

As a final note, I really love LiLo's jeans. Niiicccee!

Photo from: http://www.lindsaystyle.com/images/True%20Religion%20Joey%20Rigid%20in%20Medium%20Bandit.jpg

Let Me Count The Ways

Lately, I have been doing a lot of photoessays. Well, nobody in his/her right mind would consider the previous posts as photoessays but what the heck. Anywho, it would be an extreme oversight on my part if I fail to blog about one of the best, cutest, again cutest actresses in Asia--Charlene-my twin-Choi. God bless her, she just makes me damn happy. The right thing to do would be to bottle her essence and sell it to us, diehard fans.

I wonder how she stays so thin? I heard she doesn't eat meat. Of course, I can't do that. I'd certainly die without chicken. But I really, really, really wish I could be as thin as Charlene before my birthday. I don't think that's asking a lot? Do you? Do you? Answer me!!!

Photo credit: http://hk.geocities.com/believe_in_hot/msnbg/charlene_choi2.jpg

Thinspired

(Photo from: http://justjared.buzznet.com/2007/07/10/lauren-conrad-bikini/)

Okay, I love this girl. And what about that body? Slammin' hot! I wish I have her toned body. I mean, it's obvious she doesn't starve herself. This is one girl, who does it the hard way--working out. My personal goal is to lose inches off my waist and my face before August 25. I plan to maintain this, just because my birthday is round the corner. But, I cannot keep pigging out on weekends because it's definitely ruining my mood, my motivation, and everything I've worked so hard for. I guess, I'll have to do about 1 hour of cardio today and not eat dinner. I have to pay for stuffing my face and sitting on my ass this weekend. Ugh, I hate myself.

Sucky Saturday

I think when you have the runs and your puson is giving you all reasons to hate being a girl, it's safe to say that you are having the worst weekend ever. Of course, for someone who cannot poop in a public lav, it's basically hell trying to coax your stomach to settle down all the while convincing your uncooperative reproductive system to not act like a whiny brat. Yes, I think that set the mood for the following days, and no one can blame me, if I felt the need to pig out and just stuff my already fat face. God, this weekend was by far, the crappiest, saddest, fugliest moment in my life. I definitely hope I'm past the worst of it. Sigh...

Day 3

Last night, I didn't exercise. I have been exercising since saturday, so I thought it would be okay to rest. I did feel hungry, though. But I didn't go crazy, I just ate some raisins and drank my cupful of milk. Later, I will try to do Kathy Smith's workout. It looks fun, I just hope I'm not going to be too tired for the seminar tomorrow. Good luck to me. And yes, I will still try to eat healthily/sparingly. I should probably buy some fruits for the house, so I won't be tempted to eat crappy stuff. Oh well...

Day 1

I want to congratulate myself because I stuck to my plan. Yes, I didn't eat dinner, and yes, I exercised--40 to 45 minutes on the elliptical to be exact. Of course, I'm hoping that I can be home early tonight. I am banking on the idea that I won't be too hungry and break my diet. God, I wish my face becomes slimmer soon. I hate the pudgy look. I just want to be size 2 again.

Crapologist

It is a terrible, terrible thing when people cannot appreciate the fine art of shooting bull. After all, it is an undisputable fact that survival is directly influenced by the ability to fabricate facts and to fib your way through dangerous situations. Contrary to what fossil records suggest, the extinction of dinosaurs came about when Barney and associates lied to Jack Bauer about the location of the asteroid. Chuck Norris therefore, took it upon himself to roundhouse kick the entire planet causing what is now known as the Cambrian explosion. What came after is a series of events that historians failed to chronicle because Christopher Walken threatened the poor saps with eternal damnation, the stipulations of which involved feeding their firstborn to Oprah Wintour, Queen of the Multiverse and Ruler of the 5,789,975th corner of Hell.

Something to Say

I have been really busy dealing with work, with personal issues. But I guess that's no excuse to neglect blogging. And this is kind of a rough start for me, a sort-of re-learning how to ride a bike. Yes, you never forget that sort of thing, but I'm assuming it's not as easy as most of us would like to think. The truth is, I am consumed by family matters. I worry, that's my thing. I worry a lot. I could tell people right now that I can bear to lose all my friends, just not my family. And yes, that's the sort of sentimentality that I try to avoid. But even if I rarely talk about it, it will never stop being true. It's funny, because only a few people see right through the heart of me. Still, I choose to let it all out here, instead of engaging in some therapeutic sob fest. I know I'm purposely being vague. Only God knows what I am going through right now. I can only pray He is listening.

My 'something to say' just lost its way. So be it.

ISWAK

can't wait for ISWAK II . . .

Sense and Insensibility

Sense:
Going to mass...

Insensibility:
in a gold g-string.

Sense:
Aerating the car... (is the proper term "freshening" the car?)

Insensibility:
with those pine tree air fresheners.

Sense:
Bojo Molina

Insensibility:
Shintaro Valdes/z

Sense:
Foo Fighters

Insensibility:
Michael Learns to Rock

Sense:
Dragonball Z

Insensibility:
Mojacko

Jesus, The Party Planner (II)

Because I believe God has a fantastic sense of humor.

Me: What do I have to do?
Jesus: You see, sports fest is just around the corner, and . . .
Me: No way!
Jesus: I haven't even finished yet. I promise it's not gonna be anything like last year's fiasco.
Me: Fine, I want Philip, Bartholomew, and Thomas on my team then.
Jesus: I knew you're gonna say that. Did I tell you, old testament folks are joining this year? Hehehe. Samson's volunteering to be our team captain.
Me: D'oh!!!
Jesus: I don't even care that John's on my team, even though he has the athletic skills of a comatose patient.
Me: That's no way to talk about your beloved best friend.
Jesus: I didn't say anything mean. I'm pro-truth remember?
Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Jesus: By the way, don't forget to dress up for Sunday.
Me: Oh, right. I almost forgot about that. What's the occasion again?
Jesus: Another wedding. But don't worry, it's going to be fun. I'm taking care of the wine and stuff.
Me: Course, you are. (pause) Hey Lord, it's kinda late . . . and I have an early meeting tomorrow.
Jesus: That's okay, chubby bunny, I have tons of stuff waiting for me too. Anyway, you know my number, and I'm on my Blackberry 24/7.
Me: Night, night Lordy.
Jesus: Ciao babycakes, see you Sunday.
Me: Zzzz

Phone clicks.

Jesus, the Party Planner

The following conversation is based on a true story. (Translation: My system is filled with alcohol, and I have a sudden need to be irreverent.)

rrriinng, rriiinngg . . .

Me: Moshi moshi.
Jesus: Did I have too many sakes when I created you?
Me: Oh, hey Lord, 'sup?
Jesus: Err, just confirming if you can make it this Sunday.
Me: I don't know, I'm still undecided.
Jesus: I know. I'm omnipotent, remember?
Me: Then why'd you call me?
Jesus: Because I love pissy Mel. Pissy Mel is fun.
Me: Me? I'm not pissed.
Jesus: You are too. And you are definitely going. That's an order.
Me: What happened to free will, and all that stuff?
Jesus: Free will, schmeewill, You are going!
Me: Fine, fine. Is Mary gonna be there?
Jesus: Yes, and I'm telling you right now, if you throw that perfume thing in her face again, I'll...
Me: threaten me with eternal damnation?
Jesus: Worse, I'll let you have tea with Andrew for two months.
Me: Oh God, please not that. I still have nightmares about salmon-flavored tea, and sardine sandwiches.
Jesus: Weeeelll, being the fount of mercy that I am, I suppose you can do me one teeny, tiny thing. And then I'll forget all that business about taking my name in vain, and I'll even tell Mary to replace that perfume she stole from you.
Me: Hmmm.
Jesus: Well?

*post to be continued, creepy boss alert.*

I Am Not That Girl

"unra" unevbn,

ofa jqrc vc'b jfacq, v rz bfaal. rtcdryyl vc pryyb zn cqrc V qrin cf brl bfaal cf lfd. Cf sn qfenbc, V ufe'c yvxn lfd. Sdc cqrc'b zn snvep gnccl, reu lnb . . . wnryfdb.

V dbnu cf jvbq lfd qrggvenbb. V onyc bfaal sntrdbn V jrb deuna cqn vzganbbvfe cqrc qn tqfbn zn fina lfd. Zl jfayu ryzfbc tadzsynu jqne V ofdeu fdc cqn cadcq. Cqnan'b ef unelvep, V yfbc cqvb srccyn.

Ync zn wdbc tynra zl tfebtvnetn. V xefj cqvb jvyy enina anrtq lfd, sdc gynrbn ync zn brl V'z anryyl bfaal. Vo lfd xenj cqn bcdoo V uvu jvcq qvz, lfd'yy tfeunze zn cf qnyy. Reu zrlsn V'yy unbnain vc.

V cqvex V qrin ofapfccne jqrc vc'b yvxn cf garl. Zl zfary tfzgrbb qrb efc jfaxnu bvetn cqn ovrbtf cqrc jrb vre. Sdc V jvyy cal zl enkc garlna cf anoyntc zl anpanc, reu cf ntqf qfgn . . . cqrc bfznurl V jvyy bnn ofapvinenbb, vo efc oafz lfd, cqne oafz cqn Fen jqf snbcfjb partnb reu gdevbqznec ryvxn.

V'z bfaal V yfinu cqn jafep zre.

Distance

The distance between two hearts cannot be closed by a prayer, or a mere song. It's not about feelings or intentions, or the intensity with which you express them. I myself do not know what can cause this gap to close. I am aware, however, that should I possess a perfect understanding of things that render themselves to imperfection, then I have already unlocked an important key to this puzzle.


Once again, I am letting curiosity get the better of me.

Look After You - The Fray (Live)

Listen . . .

I Hate My Thighs and Other Variations of Fat is Evil (version 2)

Last night, I was watching Tyra Banks yak about gams and cellulite. Of course, I was glued to the set. Two years ago, I was sporting size 0 jeans. Today, I'm lucky if I could fit into my stretch pants without butter or some equally oily substitute. What a cruel, cruel world. Actually my goal is to regain my 25" waistline before my 26th birthday this coming September. But I don't want to starve myself, the way I did two years ago. Back then, I was doing it for a boy, a boy who later turned out to be the worst type of jerk in the history of mankind. 10 pounds and gallons of tears later, I realized that there's always a selfish component to losing weight that most of us tend to ignore. Essentially, we want to look good. However, we never think of doing it exclusively for ourselves. We exercise because we're worried that someday our bodies will give out on us (boo-hoo for the people who love and care for us). We eat right because a wobbly ass isn't exactly a turn-on for the people we're trying to attract. We subject ourselves to a battery of beauty treatments because society demands that we put on our "face" before we show ourselves to the public. But what if, what if some of us can actually lead a healthier lifestyle, just because it's doable. I'd like to try that. I want to be the poster girl for healthy living, and I want people to come up to me and ask, "What motivated you to lose weight?" And I'd be like, "Nothing, I just felt like it. That's all." And they'd be like, "So you weren't pressured by the thin-is-in fad?" And I'll be all haughty and condescending, while I tell them to go fuck themselves. By then, I would have lost all contact with certified members of the human race. Nevertheless, I'm still gonna be thinner than these haters. And believe me, that's enough for me.

Guilt

Today, you'll be compelled to ask me if I'm okay. And I will respond by saying, "I am well. I feel great." Later, you'll wonder if I meant what I said, because you have seen me at the peak of emotional suffering. Of course, we've never talked about it--how you've seen me breaking down while waiting for the bus. And I would have explained myself had you asked. I would have told you some lie you'll feel comfortable with, and you'll go home assuring yourself that I'll make it to the next day.

I tell you now, that's not the best way to clear your soul.

You can believe you're doing the right thing. And the world will agree with you. But that gnawing discomfort, that persistent ache, that niggling sensation of what you feel could be doubt...believe that at that moment, my heart is lodging complaints against the heavens. And no force on this earth, is strong enough to break the chain that links my pain to your guilty conscience.

IdeaL-ist 3

I'm going to try a different format this time, mostly because I'm lazy, and for reasons I'd rather not say--(Translation: I'm way too lazy to be bothered). So here goes...

QUIRKS

1. Has to know when to pick a fight, and when to shut up
2. Shouldn't care too much about what others' think
3. Is respectful to both our families
4. Can relate to my taste in music
5. Appreciates my sense of humor
6. Can bust a move when the situation calls for it
7. Is good in bed (or is at least willing to learn)
8. Should have read a variety of books, enough to have an opinion on my writings
9. Is romantic, but not in any cheesy/puke-worthy way
10. Loves to run his fingers through my hair
11. Can play a musical instrument (piano or violin are my top choices)
12. Will feed me sweets (especially when I'm blue and emo)
13. Does not object to public displays of affection
14. Should have tricks up his sleeve
15. Has a healthy appreciation of women, but should not deliberately attempt to make me jealous

--end post, full force slack-off mode--

IdeaL-ist 2

Okay, I'm really bored writing about "the one," at least when the subject is about his looks. Needless to say, I AM angling for a cute one. And no, I don't need a handsome guy, too much trouble, and far more damaging to my state of mind. He just needs to be cute, or cute enough so that my gag reflex is kept in check. Moving on, let's discuss his . . .

PERSONALITY
There's this guy in 1% of Anything--good enough k-drama, even with the not-so-strong plot. Okay I digress (I do that quite alot, which is why ICHI* needs to be quick-witted enough to keep up with the frequent subject changes.) Anyways, this guy played by the ever-charming Kang Dong Won, is quite a character. Most women say they don't like a jealous guy. But me, I'm quite different in that aspect. I'd like a guy to have jealous fits, and feel totally human and vulnerable. A boy acting stupid because he's jealous, can be quite adorable. And of course, I'd like to know (constantly) who I am to the guy. Yes, I'm quite insecure. (Shut it, haters!!!) My point is, I'm okay with the jealousy bits. But if he turns violent, I'll put him out on the streets. Make no mistake about it.

And then there's the gold standard of dream boyfriends, Jim Halpert. What's not to like? He's funny, he's witty, he's a good friend, and he's sensitive but not in the I'm-looking-for-my-inner-child sort of way. Only thing I don't like about him is his indecisiveness. But then again, if a guy is like "I have the answer to everything," to hell with him! I'll deal with a bit of fence-sitting over yabang anytime.

Sidenote: I really don't want to be detailed, because a big part of me wants to be surprised. A part of enjoying the relationship comes from discovering a new thing about your partner every once in a while. Maybe this is an excuse to stop writing about this altogether, but I feel the list needs to be completed.

Till the next installment . . .

IdeaL-ist

The last time I attempted to write such a list was way back in college. Hopefully, by this time, I had gained enough "experience" to revise where I had erred. If my naivete got the better of me, I guess there's no excuse now, not to correct those foolish notions . . .

LOOKS

Those who know me are aware of my preference for chinito boys. That has not changed. But now that I am growing quite long in the tooth, I guess I need to relax my standards just a tad. However, I still require the guy to be taller than me, as I do not want my children to be midgets. Of course, I wouldn't want the guy to be a giant--if he's a head taller than me, that would be perfect.

For some reason (maybe narcissism on my part), I have the hots for guys who wear glasses. I like guys who at least give the appearance of being smart if I can't have the genuine thing. My mom can certainly pick up on these things. And I do not want the guy to suffer from extreme prejudice.

Whereas I used to like boys with fair coloring, I must say I'm leaning towards tan these days. It just looks healthier. But then again, I wouldn't want Mr. Perfect to be orange. That would be really creepy. Oh, and if he doesn't have excess hair where hair shouldn't be growing, he and I are going to get along just fine. Teddy bears are cute but I wouldn't be caught dead canoodling with one. :)

Porma-wise, I'm not that picky when it comes to how he dresses himself, just as long as he looks put together, and he regularly takes a bath. He can be vain, but definitely no vainer than me, or any of the girly-girls I know. He should also be amenable to makeovers (by yours truly), especially if he's being a dork, is growing facial hair, a mullet, or any fashion crime that offends my sensibilities. Oh, and I hope he's not going to go bald in a couple of years. I know it's a genetics issue, but please, no comb-overs, hair-plugs, wigs, and any weird hair contraption or add-ons from home tv shopping networks. If I work hard on looking good, this guy should also make some effort to look presentable.

(Part 2, later . . .)

I'm Just Saying

I'm telling you now, you don't want me to be the girl that got away. I understand there's a reason to be confused, but if you give me up, you will lose your chance at happiness. Understand, that this is not arrogance. I am simply convinced with all the faith that is in me--we are meant to be. If I should stake everything on you, nothing, not even you can stop me. Listen to this, and listen well. You, like many men before you, do not have the slightest clue what is best for you. Do not think, that I am taking your choice away from you. I'm just saying . . . the best is right in front of you.

Useless

If you know how many times I vow to forget you, you'll understand why I'm such a liar now. And if you possess a conscience, you'll begin to appreciate the motivations for my actions. You are the last five pounds I want to shed, the last cigarette I promise to give up, and every bad habit I intend to break.

It's no coincidence that I doubt myself today . . . I am filtering myself through your consciousness. Hating you, quitting you, and admitting that I still need you are some of the hardest things I deal with everyday.

This is schizophrenia.

Where Are You?

“An embrace from him left scratches on my back that sometimes wept blood, yet my brothers and I fought to be the first in his arms when he returned from work each evening."
--Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore

Truth is, I miss you. And there are days when missing you seems to take away from everything I have ever liked about myself. I am surprised. Because the waves of summer make me realize that I can miss you without asking anything from you; that I can miss you without plunging myself in existential angst; that I can miss you even if I do not feel blessed, or punished, or loved, or hated . . .

I understand that constantly questioning your reality, may not be the best way to ingratiate myself in your favor. Or maybe that's my selfish perspective in operation--that blessings are bestowed based on a point-reward system. But I am sure, that your silence is the most painful moment in my life so far. And I cannot function, not in the way that would make me, me.

So where are you? And how can you, in your infinite mercy and kindness hide your presence from me? Am I being taught a lesson? Am I being shunned? If so, what can I do about it? Do I wait it out? Do I force your hand? Do I need to plead, cajole, coerce, and connive to get you to notice me?

I miss you, because I'm still here, because I'm still human, because I can't stop believing in you.