Sunday, September 20, 2009


Do you believe in instincts? I got a text from my best friend, Con asking me to swing by her place. When we get together, expect non-stop talking--mostly of her talking some sense out of me. I think there is such a thing as best friends instinct. No, she did not make me go over to her condo because she needed some consolation. I said, "Okay, let's talk about your problem. What is it?". "Wala, do you have a problem?" And that was it. I love her.

Last night, I have realized how lucky I am to have friends that care for me too much that they:

1. Would pass their fighting spirit unto me.
2. Would fund me credit.
3. Would kick a million asses for me.

I would do the same thing for them. After all, I am done with all the dramaschrama that life has given me. DONE.

I really enjoyed the car ride home with Toni. She is the best. I have so much to thank her for. We were kicking it Laguna Beach before we headed home.

This was at Ris' party at Magallanes last night. 151 has gotten the best of me. You see, I used to be one of the tallest kids in class.

Yesterday, Pop got me this:

I am a huge fan. I hope I my senses do not tweak after reading the book.

Cheerios, I am having Cheerios for breakfast tomorrow.

Saturday, September 19, 2009


I have yet to share with you guys the photos from the KSK party. Maybe I'll just link you?

I woke up to a very bad dream this morning. Kind of like a reality check. I have not updated this as much as I usually do because I have been picking on my planner a whole lot lately. Things that pop into my mind--things I dare not share, but will take a photo of but make sure to blur some things.

It seems like my Barbie Pink lipstick is taking its toll on me. Here are some photos from Photobooth. Just thought of sharing since I have nothing decent to share, my mind is filled up with hazy.

Wore an oversized Zara shirt and a Darkwhite ultra-ripped jeans to Tito Davis' party while ago. I also Tweeted about how much I had fun with my cousins.

My tita suggested that I cut my hair short--she claims that my hair is too long and does not fit well with my face shape. Mom's thinking about it. What do I do?!

See my lips that is full of Barbie Pink?

Update real soon!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


I have spent the last ten minutes trying to remove the tiniest piece of paper that landed on my Mac's keyboard and through and in the G keyboard. I obsess over the smallest things--this previous one, having to check on Harley (the worlds cutest puppy) constantly, running around the dining table 14 times (which might have been mentioned one too many times in my back posts), and a whole lot more.

Just a random thought while I was brushing my teeth, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Glasses, check. Skin, ew. Pimples, nothing new to nurse. And then, I have the most brilliant question to ask you. Side note: I read your comments and questions forwarded in my email, thank you. I just do not know when I will be able to comment back.


Have you ever had this feeling? Something that when asked of you, there are no definite words that could best describe what you feel? And all you can give is this...

1. It's when you've bought a new alarm clock. Set the time for alarm at 5 am. You wake up to a call from your friend asking where you are, you're late for an appointment. It's 8am. You've overslept. The batteries died;
2. It's when you're excited for lunch. You're hungry. You haven't eaten breakfast. The line at the cafeteria is too long. You order a rice meal. There's free soup. You burn your tongue from too much excitement and hunger;
3. It's when you've won an award at the VMA's this year. You're up on stage--your moment. And someone grabs the mic from you;
4. Or it's when you've believed in something all your life. Everything goes well for you. You know it will happen. And then comes one instance. Just one instance that makes you believe otherwise and realize that the thing that you believed in all your life is just something close to fairytales. Fairytales are just make-believe.

Have you had any of those or at least close to the ones mentioned above? Share!


Photo by my cousin. I just added the stamp. Forgive me for being so emotional, I blame the hormones, AND NOTHING ELSE.

Thursday, September 10, 2009


I am in my dining room like a tape rewinder as I try to look back a good 9 years of wonderful friendship. Ups and downs—happiness (to have found the perfect guy, to have seen the most ridiculous hidden talents of each one, to have finished highschool together, and most importantly, to have found each other and build a friendship that will last a lifetime and beyond) and mourning (over jerks and bastards who are also known as “ex-boyfriends”, over caring grandmothers, over a brilliant father, over a loving mother, and over an awesome brother). These are the ups and downs that I could blurt out, in this case, type, in one hit.


I met Karla when I was in the third grade under Ms. Godoy’s class. The good ole days of Chinese garter where I was the “baby” and she was the “mother”—this line can surely sum up my friendship with the very tall friend. She is straight to the point, never misguided. Opposites are what we are—I am the very perky one and she is very controlled, that is in terms of actions. Observe us one day and you will probably wonder how on earth do these two people remain friends? But I guess our differences, spoken, settled, accepted, or shrugged, are the secret recipe that make us stronger; to understand each other. And that, I would like to believe makes our friendship intact.

Triva: She never hangs up the phone without saying: I love you, Dude!

I met Shai freshmen year in highschool. The demure one. The silent one. Brush and mirror in hand, a perfect combination. These are the two objects that could symbolize the person that she is and our awesome friendship. You know when your hair gets tangled, you run a brush through it, but still have the ends tangled? That is when you need to separate the tangles with your hands; again, you run a brush and have the perfect stroke. I usually have my ends tangled; split, even. I tell Shai via Plurk or Twitter. The simple way of untangling with hands and the way Shai tells me that “it is gonna be okay” are of the same effect—simple but you get something deep out of it. Look in the mirror and you will see yourself; look harder and you will see a different person, someone incredible enough to conquer anything, someone talented yet humble, someone strong who has yet to realize that she is.

Trivia: She is the founder of MVID.

I met Kat the same time I met Shai. She was and still is the most responsible out of all us. Homeworks done the night it was given, projects done a day early. The usual jolly person greeting you, almost jumping up and down, as early as 7:30am. I get a little worried and always get fidgety when I know she is not her usual self. The cause is mine to keep, I choose not to disclose any information about the whereabouts of her heart. Fast forward to the time both of us have been waiting for. Driving to meet the rest of our friends, top down. Of course, we do not put the top down because neither of our cars have a top to begin with. I tell her something, she listens, I talk more, she tells me what to do, I process, she is quiet, I sigh, she smiles at me hopefully, I look up to the night sky, she looks at the rearview mirror. I agree silently when I look up to the sky. She watches out for me when she looks at the rearview mirror—no exchange of words needed.

Trivia: She is the head of the text brigade.

To their friends and loved ones: they're celebrating their birthdays in one night! PLEASE COME and show some love! I know they deserve it.

Monday, September 07, 2009


What do you think?

Sunday, September 06, 2009


For so many years, I have had a picture of me at 20 catching a movie, grabbing a late night dinner, on a picnic, even. With you.

No, I have not pictured what you look like when I was 15. No. It was a vague image. Too blurry enough for me to make out your eyes, nose, lips, and ears. But your hair, oh your hair, I have pictured and permanently scanned in my mind.

See, the problem with this dream is that it is perfectly planned out. I have momentarily gazed out the car window, spaced out while Oops! I Did It Again played on the radio.

I mapped out the routes and took notes of the good restaurants we would dine in. Laugh and smoke our hearts out. But then I never pictured you as a smoker. Neither myself. But I thought it would be cool if I pictured you and I as smokers. Downing red wine after our home cooked dinner. I burnt the steak. And you, with a sweet smile ate it as if it is the most delicious thing you have ever tasted. When we were stuffed, you say: "Oh, the steak was grilled the perfection." So was our future. We would sit in our green couch and I would make you listen to Cruisin’ because I would then claim that this is our song. We listen to it for more than ten times in a row with no complaint from you. But when your favorite teams are playing for the championships, well, that is a different story.

Today, as I write, I am 21. I have never had that. My mom and I had a good talk about guys. I can never show one. Maybe tomorrow.

So, here I am listening to Interpol’s Heinrich Maneuver for the 97th time. I am throwing away my maps and dreams and pictures of you in my mind. Maybe tomorrow.

Saturday, September 05, 2009


You know how it feels when you are caught in a moment and then you blink. GONE.

I had fun pigging out this week. Wednesday lunch with Bea, whose birthday is today, Toni, and Eleu. And last night with my cousins, Michelle and Clara. 32 rolls, baby!

I have not been in the mood to write anything pleasant. I mean, I am usually not the type to just blog about my current activities--blogging every minute. Don't you think it ruins the very idea of blogging? Again, "I woke up today with... and I am thinking about doing this... My boyfriend said..." Of course, I do not have a boyfriend but you do get me.

Also, I have not been able to answer and thank you for the very kind (and some harsh) questions and comments forwarded in my email re: my posts here in my blog. I will sometime soon. It is just that I have not been able to find my niche in life that I would want to share to the cyber world.

See, this is one of the many posts and promises that I have swore over. Thank you, boring me.

Excuse me for saying this, but I am kind of giddy because I can already smell the Christmas air. Maybe later, I will post photos of my day trip to wonderful Quezon, Wednesday lunch, and Friday dinner.

Meanwhile, I am left alone in the house, while the rest of the family tire their feet from roaming around and shopping for stuff--hopefully, they get me at least 2 items.

I am writing this in one blow, like a punch in the head courtesy a cruel enemy.

What else is there to talk about?

Follow me on Twitter!

The title of this entry is copied and taken out from a spread in a magazine that is flopped open. I dare speak.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009


This morning, I woke up to several texts from friends saying that Mr. Alexis Tioseco died of gunshot wounds last night. And so we then again think, another good man has passed away to escape this cruel world. God has spared him from all the evil worldly cares and brought him back home.

He was everyone's favorite film teacher at the University of Asia and the Pacific.

We all hope for justice. Click HERE to know the full story.

Rest in peace, Sir Tioseco.