strangelove addictions | a personal journal by Kath Leomo

TYP 751, RYAN PATRICK

2009-11-19T03:40:10Z

DO NOT RIDE! THE DRIVER THREW COINS AT MY FACE.

I am not a firm believer of taxi cabs. If you know me in real life, you would know how much I enjoy walking. I have only met a few ones which I actually found likable. Last night was the most horrible of them.

It was around 6.30 in the evening, I was in the area of Greenhills Shopping Center on my way to Eastwood to watch my friend Anne get a tattoo for her birthday. I got on this cab (Ryan Patrick, TYP 751) and told him to bring me to Eastwood. A few minutes into the ride, he told me to add 40p on top of the fare that will drop down on his taxi meter. I had thought this was a terrible thing, but decided to stick to it because I had a long day and I was carrying something heavy. I was pissed as expected.

Along the way, he had this habit of reaching out to the bottom of the passenger seat's floor or covering his taxi meter. This raised my suspicion so I kept my eye on him.

Along C5, just past Red Ribbon (the establishment) he pressed some buttons on his meter and the meter that was flagging down turned off. I asked him what he was doing and he said that "Nasira iyong metro ko. Bigla na lang siyang namatay." (My meter broke. It suddenly died.) He asked me how much I usually pay when I go to Eastwood, and I said that I pay whatever is on the meter. He told me to just hand in 200p and that he will take me there. So I decided to just fuck it and perhaps I will just walk all the way. I asked him how much the meter said right before he started pressing it. He told me it was 67.50p. I was looking for that amount in my wallet and I couldn't find anything but 100p bills. I decided to pay him 80p because I assumed 20p bills were easier to just get and give. He gave me 1.25p as change and told me: "Sayo na iyan, ineng. Wala akong barya." I insisted that he gives me my full change. I accused him of panggagancho because of what he was doing. This was perhaps the reason why in the next few minutes, he pulled out coins in his pocket and threw them at me. "Eh wala nga akong barya e, o ayan, sa iyo na." (I said, I don't have coins. Here!) I was shocked. I went down the cab crying and carrying this huge bag with me. I started crying when my contacts fell off. Everything was blurry and I couldn't see the numbers of the cab. I was walking along C5 to Eastwood crying my guts out in my heels and swearing every single step of the way (until Shopwise.)

Pertinent things you must remember:
18 November 2009, Wednesday, around 630pm
TYP 751, RYAN PATRICK
Bagbag, Nova. QC

This morning, on my way to work I saw two RYAN PATRICK taxis. I tried my best to get their numbers but to no avail as I was not wearing contacts.

I would like to think that I am a generally nice person. I would like to believe that I am likable and sweet enough never to get that kind of treatment from anyone I know or do not know. I do not treat my friends mean. I am of the belief that nice taxi cabs must be tipped and that restaurants must be left a decent tip as well. I hold out doors for strangers. I smile at strangers, etc. etc.

My birthday is coming up, you might not be able to teach me how to ride a bike, send me stargazer lilies, or a cupcake. The least I want you to do for me is to spread this story around. If ever, give me the number of RYAN PATRICK. I can not imagine knowing someone else got coins thrown at their face.

AS FOR YOU, taxi driver who LOOKS LIKE JV Ejercito: TANGINA MO KA, MAMATAY KA DIN. (edit: I am not saying anything against the mayor. for all I know he is doing his job right now attending to incidents like this one. Said taxi driver just happens to look like the guy)

Hey, Baby, What is Your Sign?

2009-11-11T08:20:21Z

I have yet to meet an Aries I didn't like. I stay away from Aquarius. Gemini boys must be avoided. I believe my soulmate is a Cancer.

Aries - 7
Virgo - 4
Aquarius - 2
Gemini - 2
Scorpio - 2
Cancer - 2
Libra - 1
Pisces - 1
Total - 21

Taurus - 0
Leo - 0
Sagittarius - 0
Capricorn - 0

No, that is not the number of boys I have dated. No, that is not the number of boys I have kissed. No, that is not the number of boys I have been in a relationship with. That is just the number of people who (1) I have been "more-than-the-average" attracted to, (2) I actually remember the birthdays/sign of.

Let me first qualify, I had a certain degree of crush on them that I actually even committed their birthdays to memory; These are the people I liked for more than a month without hating their guts while I am at it; People who I have had major crushes on.

Despite the fact that I have liked more than twelve people (this number is particularly important as there are twelve signs on the zodiac), I seem to naturally gravitate to only some of them.

I have this tendency to stereotype people based on their signs (shallow, I know) and form an assumption of their personalities based on the traits of those who came before them.

I have yet to meet an Aries I did not like.

My first boyfriend is an Aries. We were together officially for two weeks. That is because he had a girlfriend when we became "official;" Long story. Most Arieses I met are hard-headed and have a tendency to be a little narcissistic and spoiled. I like that trait about them. They have a certain rudeness and brusque in them which are sharp and attractive.

I do not seem to meet a lot of Virgos, though.

Virgos are familiar. I like how they can be so grounded and gentle with their words. They feel safe and comfortable to have around. They, however, can not seem to keep my attention for long.

Aquarius and Gemini are my least favorite experience.

Gemini boys are crazy and unpredictable--in a bad way. They can choose to ignore you one moment and then show you that you are the center of their universe. My least favorite ex is a Gemini. He is to never be included in a discussion of my life. I ran away from both of the Geminis in my life. I just chose to magically disappear and erased all traces of existence where they could find me. Unless of course they feeli like googling my name.

Aquarius boys are a different story on why I hate them. In fact, it deserved a whole other entry. My attraction for Aquarius begins in a very favorable manner, only to leave a sour taste in the mouth. (Forgive the bad metaphor) It is like eating candy with a rotten middle, you will never know how bad the insides are until you eat through the sweet coating.

I have a special affinity for Scorpios--boys or girls.

I like their air of mystery. I like that I can not seem to get them completely. I like how they can be so guarded. I like how they can be occasionally rude and jealous and sweet at the same time. Considering, though, that I am a Scorpio, a relationship with another Scorpio is said to be bad for my health.

Cancers seem to be my favorite.

I have only liked two cancers in my life. I have liked both of them for more than three years. My soulmate is a Cancer.

Too little to form an opinion: Libra and Pisces.

The only Libra that I like is this boy who reads good literature, with bad hair and bad teeth. The only Pisces I liked had a girlfriend who turns to be my college roommate.

I have never had a crush on a Taurus, a Leo, a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Perhaps, they are just not my type. I have yet to be convinced about this though.

Oh, hey, my birthday is coming up next week. Make me happy, this is my wishlist.

I Think I Like My Job

2009-11-05T06:35:47Z

Yes, there I said it. I think I like my job. I like the flexi-time, I like the free lunches. I like the small boutique hotels, I like the school, like the restaurants, and most of all I like the people I work with. Small as the company may be, I still like it.

Why I Like This Job More Than My Last

It is more intelligent than the last.
This one does not force me to wake-up at unholy hours of the morning unlike the previous ones where I have to go to work at 7am.
This one provides us free lunches.
This one has a higher ratio of more intelligent people. The previous one perhaps can be said to have a higher ratio of stupid people as it is a very big company. I am not saying that the people there are unintelligent--quite the contrary as my friends from the previous company are all very, very smart.
I can steal fondant from the kitchen--that's a plus, yo!

Why am I Scared of this Job

My fear in this company is rooted in the fact that there are times when I feel useless and inadequate as this is a real-job as opposed to my previous job which could easily just kick you out when they feel like it.
I am new to this kind of thing. I used to work as a ghost writer in my previous company.
I have to deal with more people.
I have to do marketing--which I am not used to as I am a literature major.

Why I am Desperate Now

I know completely nothing about inviting people to go to events.
I know completely nothing about sponsored advertisements.
I know very little from the blogging community.
I need people who blog about food and I need to invite them to the opening of one of our restaurant outlets.

Next time, I will go discussing about the way the company is structured. (team CHAMP and the Cravings Group and all that) kthxbai

Middle Name: Crazy

2009-11-04T09:56:05Z

I did a lot of crazy shit back in college. No this does not include falling for the ridiculously stupid and ugly boys--which by the way I have done way too many times that anyone should ever do legally. I do not exactly call myself reckless or rebellious but I think I did my share of crazy shit back in college. Here are but some of them.

1) Gayuma. Ex. Unrequited Love. No, I did not gayuma an ex. I had this friend who was ridiculously in love with her ex. In order to win the said ex back, I would accompany my friend to places where they sell gayuma and other trinkets. A lady who sells gayuma suggested that she feed him this bag of cat hair. Of course, the cat hair would be guised in some sweet food. We made a batch of cookies, me and my friend, and my friend made us (me and another friend) go to her ex to feed him the said cookies--spiked with cat hair. No, she was not able to win him back.

2) Bus Ride, Seat Fare, Chance at True Love. It was a cold December night and I was on a bus bound to Manila. A few minutes into the ride, a little right after I paid the fare, I got an SMS from a friend who told me that the boy I had a huge crush on was on stage our college Pasiklaban stage (that is pretty similar to UPDiliman's Lantern Parade--only with more drugs, alcohol and rock and roll), drunk and looking for me. Never had a chance to think, I went down the bus not minding the ticket I had already paid and took the cab back to our school. I saw said guy making-out with some girl in the college parking lot.

3) a Pencil, a Gang of Four, Police Blotter. Hello, my name is Kath and I had stabbed someone with a pencil. (Hi, Kath!) I just came from Nihonggo class which was a grueling three hours on a Friday evening, one could easily imagine that everyone is looking forward to a sleepy weekend, but no I had to go to class. I was out to have dinner (alone) so I decided to withdraw money from the bank, I accidentally bumped into a girl who was just coming out of the ATM booth. Their gang of four decided to gang up on me the moment I went out the ATM booth. They were pushing me and pushing me (all four of them) so I decided to protect myself. I stabbed one of the girl's arms with a pencil. A few seconds later a guard stopped us and called to bring us to the police station.

4) Bid a Guy for the Highest Amount. It was during the College Fair when this Org in my college had this idea that a great way to raise money is to bid cute college guys to lonely college gays, guys, girls (like me!) I had the meanest crush on the captain of the college debate team, so I bid for him! Needless to say his bid was the highest bid for anyone that day.

5) Put down a Restraining Order on a Boy I Dated. My dating history is not stellar. My dates included boys with girlfriends, boys with fiances, bums, drug addicts, etc. I was dating this boy when I had the biggest crush on our organization's chairman. After the said ex and I broke-up he would occasionally go to my place in the morning and ransack my clothes and personal belongings. One time I saw him going through the photos I had printed taking copies of photos of the said boy I had a crush on. He was ballistic and mad and was prepared to hit me. A few days later I put down a restraining order on said boy. He could not come to the baranggay where I live unless he wants to be jailed.

There were some other crazy shit I did which can not be written down mostly because they would consist of several felonies. What crazy shit did you do during your time?

Die, Bitch, die!

2009-10-30T08:01:17Z

Beware: scammers are all around now, especially that it's Christmas season.

The terrible things happen to good people. However, this is not my story.

I have been working for the hotel and restaurant industry for only two months. I have only heard of scams happening to friends and I do not have the slightest idea on how they operate until recently.

A friend of mine works as an account executive for one of the hotels the company I work for owns. Her job involves talking to clients and getting clients.

The Gang

My friend, R, was befriended by this woman who goes by the name Sonia Romero. Ms. Romero claims to be working for NLEX and its team. Romero claims she is from Cebu and will be working in Manila for a few days with some of her colleagues. She has with her three of her kids.

The Ploy

She will befriend one of the staff. She will ask about long-staying rates and other promos which the hotel offers. She will tell her friend from the staff, in this story my friend R, that some of her friends plan to check in the hotel for a long period of time and will take up a few rooms. Naturally, this means a notable account for the said friend/account executive. The con artist will act to gain the victim's trust. Either by introducing the AE to her kids and talking about her fake life. She asked for random requests such as lugaw from the kanto, a hair clip, and a van to be used for when her kids will decide to go to Enchanted Kingdom the following days.

She paid for her first two nights of stay in the hotel. Making it seem like she is a legitimate customer.

The Execution

The day before she leaves the hotel her kids will be fetched from the hotel. She will claim that they need to be going someplace--her children. That night, she then decided to borrow my friend's laptop saying that she needs to be doing some papers considering that the work week is about to commence. My friend naturally would let their guest borrow her laptop so as to please the client.

The next morning, she pays the hotel a cheque and claims to just be going to church. The check is from a closed account. My friend's laptop along with some other things were stolen from her.

Oh, crap.

Much as we would like to think that our parents had raised us well imparting the age-old knowledge of never trusting strangers, we can not help it.

Terrible things happen to good people. I would like to think I am a good person, now I am afraid.

In other news, my birthday is about to come up. Have you thought of what gift you would like to give me? :D

Growing Pains

2009-10-27T11:58:19Z

2008 and 2009 had been one of the worst years of my life, if not the worst.

The truth is: I am not looking forward to anything at all as of the moment.

I remember a girl named Anna, I think I know too many Anna's in my life. I wonder why there are people who have a lot in their lives but they can not seem to be contented with what they have that they invent the sordid details of their lives.

These days I wish I am plain boring. These days I wish my only problem involves living from paycheck to paycheck and the ruins of my heart. I feel like I have too much on our plate that it is mundane and unlivable. I sleep longer at nights. I smoke more. I have ran away from several people. I did not go to work today because I have to attend to some problems.

Sometimes I think I need some help, but maybe that was just me being too maarte.

If only last.fm allows for retrieving of old data I would have erased that as well. My lack of a spine has only caused me to temporarily delete my twitter and facebook (again).

Oh, no, here we go again

2009-10-26T07:48:49Z

Third time today someone called me looking for my mother. This is a great way to wipe the smile off of my face. Not that there was any to begin with, mind you.

I am forcing myself to write because I am sad. Lately, I try to write love letters If only to have something else to think about. All I have however are lettters and unwilling recipients.

Maybe I will write each one of the boys I like a love letter. If only to have a method for distraction.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

sinabsolution @ 2009-10-21T12:08:00

2009-10-21T04:09:15Z

dear new job,

I like you. I like you a lot. However, days drag on when I don't really do any work.

You see, new job, I am a junkie. I like the way you offer some form of distraction from all the other things in my life which is not going right. Lately, I haven't been doing anything at all. I feel threatened. I feel redundant. I feel unfulfilled. Yes, emo as it may sound, I feel sad.

Please, pick up soon. I hope that hotel in Antipolo finally opens so I can work on those things which I should be working on; like the marketing for its opening, etc.

Please, please. I don't want to quit you.

love,
DK.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

Birthday Wishlist: Instructions for Heart Thievery

2009-10-10T15:24:12Z

24 for 24. I am turning a year older in a few weeks' time. I still keep too much secrets. I run around with my heart on my sleeve. I pretend I am not emotional. I like the pronoun "I" too much. Outside my bedroom are two dogs sighing their selves to sleep.

~~Please hold my hand~~ when we cross the street. I have been told I do not know how to.

This has been around for quite a while now, which is the reason why there are already things wishes which were fulfilled.

cupcake decorating kit
breakfast in bed, naked, laughing, cupcakes
~~Get Contacts/Eyeglasses~~ thanks, Marketing Job
My chipped tooth fixed
~~hair permed~~
~~Love and Longing in Bombay by Vikram Chandra~~ thanks @helloluis
~~an occasion to wear stiletto heels~~ thanks Ondoy.
make cupcakes/truffles for a girl born in November
to actually mount a bike and pretend to learn it.
~~drink, pass-out from drinking, be taken care of~~
karaoke
sit behind a hotel front desk—a little after midnight
~~to disappear for a notable period of time~~
to stand in a very high place while blowing bubbles (pictures if possible)
have dinner with a girl who is a Sagittarius or Capricorn
~~a playlist~~ thanks, @thismadworld
a decent photo of myself in a bikini
~~perfume/cologne, really nice smelling ones~~
~~fake slowdancing~~
stargazer lilies.
~~kiss to Bon Iver’s “Blood Bank”~~
~~kiss under a streetlight~~
one perfect cupcake.
~~one perfect kiss.~~

Impenetrability

2009-09-22T03:01:18Z

Impenetrability is the inability of matter to occupy the same exact place at the same time. Simply put, the space one matter occupies is impermeable in a sense that if one matter has taken the space, no other matter can occupy it while another body has taken its place. Only through displacement of matter can another matter occupy the said space.

Dear fellow MRT Commuter,

This is a very simple physics concept. What I do not understand is that you, fellow commuters on the MRT train, continue to try to defy the concept.

MRT commuters are barbarians out to get the better of the next passenger. Sometimes, I find it more efficient to ride the male train and risk the possibility of feeling the next guy's hard-on than riding the female train. I find, based on experience, that female passengers can be a little more vicious and violent when partaking the daily commute.

Female MRT commuters are armed with more weapons which try to defy this simple physical concept. They are armed with big bags, scented moisturizers, and pointy heels which are concealed weapons. Big bags are used to hit the passengers, club them if they felt the need to so as to accomodate the next thin waif/oaf who are coming in late. Their scented moisturizers which some of them feel the need to apply minutes before they ride the train can be nauseating, that one whiff can disarm you and leave you light-headed. Of course, the deadliest of them all, the high heels, which these passengers use to toe and step on their fellow commuters when they do not get their way.

Don't get me wrong, I love the daily commute. It is one of the things which I look forward to after a long day of work in the office. It is just that I would want to ride the train without fearing for my life--or any defiance of the laws in Physics.

40

2009-09-20T12:57:38Z

from this day on, I promise I'll cry less before I go to sleep. I promise I'll toss and turn less too. I promise I'll move the way she would've wanted to me to. there shall be no more excuses.

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

One Month

2009-09-11T03:02:56Z

It has been about month since I saw you last. I would like for you to know I still cry in bus rides when I think of you. I sleep less at night, I toss and turn and wonder what things will be like if you are around. I imagine you in the next room, limping and turning and making requests for water, chocolates and taho. I am being selfish I know every time I wish for you to be here. I can not help it though because you have been a big part of us.

Today marks the 1st month of my mom's passing away.

Summer of '69

2009-08-16T14:45:06Z

I have one of the coolest mothers in the world.

Anyone who has been there in her funeral march, or has witnessed it first hand, would wonder why a black vehicle blaring out Bryan Adams' "Summer of '69" has a dozen or so people crying behind it. Oh, look it is a hearse.

I did not know that song to be so heartbreaking.

There was an undeniable stark contrast: a rock song with a dozen funeral mourners crying with it blaring in the background. Maybe perhaps it was to tell the world she is, now, content.

I am proud of my mother. For being one of character, strength, wit and brilliance. I would never have anyone in the world to be my mother but her.

To you who downloaded the song for my mother's funeral, thank you. My gratitude is beyond words.

Move. Just Move.

2009-08-15T04:14:06Z

This is a tall order. One which requires more than the usual will and summoning of strength.

Sleep is hard to come by. You count more than a hundred sheep. Breathe deeper and deeper. Feign sleep for some twenty minutes and realize that you are only fooling yourself with all this lying down. But you lie down, because your body deserves it.

When you do get sleep, waking up is the hardest part. Yes, you are awake. You stare longer. You breathe shallow. Yet you have no desire to move or be alive.

This morning my desire came from the fact that I wanted to wash my pillows. And the fact that a stranger rang my number by mistake, thinking I was someone else. That was it. At this rate, I think I need a wake-up call every morning until real life come backs to my body.

On the good side, I am glad she is happy now. She can have all the cake, the coffee, the ice cream, and the coke zeros she likes. That in itself is enough.

Letting Go

2009-08-10T03:40:38Z

This morning, I was looking for my favorite white dress. The one I wore last year on my birthday.

This is a difficult act. One which entails being strong and knowing that this act of letting go of my favorite dress is something perpetual.

My mom is dying. At this very moment. She is 54.

Some 3 Worst Dates Ever*

2009-07-21T03:29:03Z

Looking at my dating/romantic relationship history, and putting it up against that of my twin sister's, I can sincerely say mine is a disaster of sorts. For one, most of the boys I have dated/been in a relationship with can not exactly be classified as "take-me-to-your-mom" material.

At 23, I have been in four relationships. I have to qualify that this number is only because these are the relationships which had commitment of sorts. However, I have dated or had been involved with my fair share of men and boys. Looking at it now, I get disgusted at all my choices. Disgusted is actually a mild term. True that these relationships may have had some merits, however there are some parts of it which can only make me go facepalm every time I get reminded.

So here we are, a recollection of some of the worst romantic involvements I had, hoping that no one else in the world ever makes the same mistakes I did.

Romantic Involvement #1
Let me nitpick pet peeves: (1) I had to fetch him from work after school. (2) I can not sustain a conversation with him as he is terrible in English.He can not even write one sentence in English (3) Over-protective to a point where he once slept outside my window so that I will never go out and see my friends after 7pm. (4) We argued intensely about the fact that I had a crush on Christian Bautista and told him that I intend to have elevator sex with him. (5) He once hit me because of some argument. While it may be my fault, I don't think it was warranted.

Our usual dating routine involved me fetching him from work, eating out, arguing about this boy I had an insane crush on, telling me to speak in Tagalog "dahil nasa Pilipinas tayo" because I talk in English all the time.

Something endearing about him: He works as a chef. Our meals are good the few rare instances he cooks them.

Romantic Involvement #2
Let me nitpick pet peeves: (1) He was over-eager to announce and claim to the world our romantic involvement. He gets irritated that my Facebook status remains single despite my seeing him and the fact that he was involved with someone else (2) He is terrible in English, by terrible I mean he does not know how to use the articles, he does not understand subject-verb agreements, and continues to write in English. (3) His stupid begging tantrums with marching motions and arm movements. (4) That ugly name he calls me by. Eew. Please to not ask. (5) Overly jealous over the most banal of things. Uhm, may girlfriend ka. Wag kang unfair.

Our usual dating routine involved me waiting for him to get home from work, hoping that his girlfriend would never see us or that any of his girlfriend's friends. Arguing about the same boy I had an insane crush on from the previous enumeration. He asked me never to date a photographer, a programmer, a designer or anyone involved in insurance/marketing after him. A couple of days after making that promise I dated someone who happens to be 3 out of the 4 restrictions he had set. Good job me!

Something endearing about him: Understandably he is a good person, despite the fact that he can be selfish and immature at times. He is sweet and he looks out for my family at times.

Romantic Involvement #3
Let me nitpick pet peeves: (1) He can not differentiate "fun" from "fan", "they're" from "their" and "there". (2) Straight teeth, good hair. (3) He is too assuming, to a point that he claimed I was in love with him. (4) Hopeless romantic. Pleading. Too available. Manchild. (5) His fugly laugh.

Our usual dating routine involved asking me what I think about him. Him telling me all his good traits and why girls fawn over him. Talking about him and his hopeless romantic ways.

Something endearing about him: I can not think of anything right now.

There we go. Did I do that?

*this entry is brought about by the fact that I read an ex's blog just recently. Said ex is included in this list.

Room with April Rain

2009-07-14T01:33:05Z

I saw the love of my life dancing, in front of a cafe in Cubao. He was like the rain: vertical, sometimes horizontal, occasionally diagonal and ungraceful. Despite this lack of grace, I am still amused. Three times, that night, I asked him to take me back. All times, I got denied. I had resigned, albeit not immediately.

But now you are no longer what you were,
the beloved,
Who traded hours of sleep for moments of
harried love.**

While he may no longer be what he was--the one to hold my hand, the one to make me sigh in the morning and twice at night, the one who makes me want to comb my hair--I can not completely say I do not love him anymore. He is, after all, the only one who has staked my heart.

I wish for him to have magic in his life, and to experience the miracle which we have deprived ourselves off. That in itself, I guess, is enough.

Today is his birthday. Happy birthday, Abel Quintos. He turns 24.

** Oscar Zuñiga - Room with April Rain

Maliit ang Mundo Lalo na sa DOT COM

2009-07-13T02:16:52Z

I think we must all know by now how the world wide web is such a small place. A small one which one could be sure you'd be surprised on how people are connected to people. I had always liked the fact that my in real life world has not collided too much with the online world. Which is only until recently. I would like to state the following examples:

I dated this boy who works with a college orgmate. An orgmate who I have never met until I became friends with said boy. Said college orgmate is connected to an ex by means of a debate org they (they, the ex and the orgmate) both belonged in.
My last "ex"'s older brother, I found out this morning, is connected to the boy I dated during our relationship. The one who came directly during/after him. The company where the older brother works is the same company where the boy I dated works in, a company which integrates three software related companies.
A college friend is childhood friends with a friend I met online. Both of them sanguine and beautiful, I should have pinpointed the connection early on.
My sister's ex-boyfriend is now together with this girl my sister and I ogles to no end. One who we could have been secretly in love with.
This boy I dislike in elementary school is friends/connected to an old college teacher, one who I had a massive crush on and is extremely close with my ex.

It's all very funny, these things. No wonder it's called a web.

Life is a Joke, Laugh harder, Laugh more.

2009-07-12T12:11:02Z

There is an infinite sadness which walks in my shoes. However, walk requires lifting of feet off of the ground. It requires the fleeting defiance of gravity, however momentary. Perhaps, dragging is more like it.

There is an infinite sadness which drags in my shoes.

This morning I was crying because of a love affair gone sordid. That which I will not discuss here anymore. I came home, a little after 5pm to lay my head down and rest. One would think that after all the emotional distress one goes through that refuge is one which is offered the weary.

Laugh harder.

Some thirty minutes after sitting down and lying my head on the sofa, my mom's brother and sister come knocking. Understand that these are the same people who took her from us then and again. These are our estranged relatives who have severed ties from us, and excommunicated us as if they were the Catholic Church. These are the same people who blame us for everything which happened to our mother.

Laugh more.

They came here, after almost seven months of not talking to us, after seven months of avoiding us, after seven months of letting us all to do this on our own, something which requires the patronage and understanding of those who should have known better. We had heated exchange of words, about things which they believed can be done better. Things which if they did, they would do better. We hate to say we told you so. You are wrong.

This morning, I was sad because I thought that the epic sadness of the day is ruled by my heartbreak. It is funny to me how the universe reveals its sick, sad, sordid sense of humor by showing me that, indeed, things will only get worse. I am laughing now because when the universe decides to make a big joke out of your life, and sad condition, it picks the worst times.

Life is a Joke, Laugh harder, Laugh more.

Running Around with a Secret

2009-07-10T00:45:36Z

Secrets spill out of me during the most unexpected instances.

On a phone call, on a Christmas night, talking to a lover on the phone I had found out something monumental. I called him, I was panicking. He can not talk to me. He was busy, it was Christmas after all. I cried the entire night until the next morning, talking to another friend on the phone. I cried myself to sleep from that night, and everyday for until many months later.

The next day, I sent a message to my best friend. Informing her of the said secret. I trembled. I was trembling. I kept it secret for too long from everyone else.

These days I own up to it. If the situation presents itself, I volunteer the secret. While it may not be a badge one wears on her sleeve, it is still something which comes out of me: conversation over beers in Cubao Expo with a friend from college, arguing about a lover with my sister on our bed, over a phone call with a lover, on a lover's bed, over Y!M conversation with a friend I met online, on the bus ride home with a boy I thought I was in love with, in a car with a friend. I could set up a map where this secret spilled and I am hoping it will be an interesting one.

To own up to this secret, I want it remembered: a testament on skin, a monument one wears on her body, a graphical rendition of how painful it was to run around with it.

Soon, darling, soon. Maybe I will get a miracle.

I was crying and sobbing in my office cubicle just now

2009-07-02T05:39:18Z

Not one of those one-tear-down-your-cheek because a heart string was pulled, but an honest to goodness cry. There was a puddle on my cubicle desk the size of my palm, because I was too shy to showcase my emotional agitation so I was face down on the desk.

I was listening to Dave Matthew's Oh, the only song which can make me cry spoonfuls of tears at any random moment. It was because I miss my mom, my old mom.

I hear you still talk to me
As if you're sitting in that dusty chair

The other day I came home to a glass of sugar water in the sink. This is frustrating as my mother is a stroke-patient diabetic. She can not move her left hand and can barely maneuver her left leg. A glass of sugar water is a death wish. Months of all this had deadened me, had this happened a year ago I would have been stark enraged. That night, I had simply let out a sigh and poured the contents of the glass down the kitchen sink.

It's cold and darkness falls
It's as if you're in the next room so alive
I could swear I hear you singing to me

Prior to her stroke, my mother is a lawyer. She braves long bus rides to provide to her four children-all by herself. She took beating after beating from my abusive father. I believe this had only made her more loving and protective. She is what strong should be. Looking at the four of us, I can sincerely say that we did not turn out so bad, however we are just subjected to the luck of the draw--or the severe lack of good luck in it.

I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell

This entry is for my mother, because she makes me cry on an almost daily basis. Despite all the neurosis, suicide attempts before and after her stroke, shouting matches, and defiance, I love her oh so well.

Commuter Woes [2]

2009-06-30T00:49:49Z

Riding the FX or those vans are a big part of my life. I spent a good two hours everyday inside those careening pieces of metal which traverse Mindanao Ave. Most times, I just sleep on it especially during the mornings. Days like this one, when I am wide-eyed and excited, I just sit patiently humming random songs from point A to point B.

Believe it or not, I like FX rides or commuting in general. I like long bus rides and train rides and public transportation (except for jeepneys but that's another story.) However, despite my declared love for FX rides there are, of course, exceptions and limits to my love. There are people in FX rides who irritate me to no end, I just want to smash their faces against the glass. Aside from the brutally obvious, like those who sit like they paid 10pesos more than you did, here are some of them:

The Lovey-dovey couples. It is not that I am disgusted at PDA, I actually enjoy it myself, it is just that there is always a time and place for everything and that there is a line between tastelessness and romance. I do not mind seeing couples holding hands or even kissing inside the commuter van, however they should keep their conversation to themselves. I don't wanna hear them go cooing at each other. "Di pa poh. Gutom na nga ako eeee." OK, bhe, san tayo kakain, bhe?" "Eeee, hold hands tayooo, bhe" "I lovez you poh talaga poh." Motherfvck, get a room! Stop stroking his goddamn legs and crotch, and you, woman, I am not interested in your man.
The DJ. I believe that there is only one person who should have a monopoly of the music to be played during the FX ride: the driver! No matter what he plays, you can not complain openly about it. I hate it when the driver plays weird Pinoy novelty songs, I'd hate it even more so if it is from a fellow passenger. These are those passengers who play their mp4 players so loud there is no room for you to guess what they are playing. "She moves her body like a cycloooone/ And she makes me want to do it all night looong." Keep your music to yourself, and stop polluting this sardine can with your bad heavily remixed pop R&B. Perhaps, blame it on the fact that I associate R&B with the worst kind of boys I ever dated.
The Vanity Advocate. The commuter van is a closed space where smells and sounds are shared by every single one of those in it. No matter how bad or good the smells and sounds are, it is inevitable to smell and hear them. There are some of those who believe that the van is an extension of their boudoir and continue their morning rituals in the said ride. Wearing lipgloss and combing their hair and even a little make-up is fine by me. However, there are those who spray perfume, put on scented lotion, powder their faces like a geisha and assume that everyone is delighted by what they put on their bodies. NO. Be considerate. I hate the smell of vanilla perfume, I do not like dusty powder in my eyes, I get icked by that perfume, if you like it do it in an open space, woman.
Those who came from Hell. It is understandable how, sometimes, aircon in some of those vans fail at giving the much needed refreshing burst of colder air. If you are suffering, understand that we are suffering too. So please be mindful that we all paid the same, commensurate amount of cash and DO NOT point the aircondition to just your direction. It is not my fault you do drugs, you ran around EDSA, or ate Lugaw just before you got here, learn to share. There will of course be some exceptions, however, the norm is to share.
The Town Drunk/Manyak. I have had my share of bad van seatmates, those who can not seem to get any or those who get their kicks rubbing their hands in unseen places. My boobs are very small, thank you. My legs are very thin, so get your goddamn hands away from me and away from your crotch. I have hit someone too many times for this, and I am not afraid to do it again. No, pretending to fall asleep on what is very little of my chest is not accidental. I do not care if you throw up outside the window or hit your head on the seats, I am not accomodating. You are not my date, my boyfriend, my friend, my brother and I do not take care of male strangers who look like they can handle themselves better than I can.

I understand that there are more of them out there. There are many more characters to hate and assasinate in my head, however these are but some I encounter on an almost daily basis. I do not advocate hate, however I advocate consideration and understanding that FX/commuter vans are public transportation.

I have been told I am withdrawn, several times

2009-06-29T02:44:35Z

I feign surprise when I hear it, but hearing it too many times validates the idea to me.

I avoid confrontation as much as possible, and flight is my default defense mechanism. I hate to talk about my feelings or a lot of things in general, only when absolutely necessary. Believe it that when I do delve in it might mean I am moving away from you. I have only successfully talked about my feelings once, but that was because I had the intention of disappearing and leaving things behind.

Today, I asked you a favor. I hate having to explain about these things or giving too much details at the risk of losing another friend's confidence.

While questions may be the a good way to come up with answers and to make sense of some things, there are just some things which has to be taken at face value, and that too many questions are not to be asked and/or warranted.

A, I am afraid I have been too open to you which is why you feel the need to be all over my face at times. When you do this, my affection erodes slowly. I feel that that the only way for me to save any love, respect and liking for you is for me to run away and never hear from you. Learn to take NO for an answer. I feel I have spoiled you with my affection which is why you act like this towards me. You push me. I always give you your way. Too many times, I tell myself I am tired of you, of this, and here I am still.

100 Songs [4] (31-40)

2009-06-24T00:51:27Z

DISCLAIMER: I am a total sap. Which explains a lot of the reasons why these songs are here. The thing is that my emotions dictate why I will like a song. A song becomes my favorite if it elicits a good emotion from me.

Getting on with the program. The 100 songs meme is one started by Baddie, right here, and is said to be the songs you would want your future children to listen to. Friends who are also doing this meme are here, here and here. Drop by their pages for their ongoing count, as well. The entirety of my list here: the 100 songs meme.

From some of my favorite male bands in the planet. Here we go:

31. The Shins - Kissing the Lipless
I remember being in an island paradise earlier this year and swinging in a hammock listening to this song--LSS-ing to this song. I did not want to do anything that afternoon unless after I satiate my need to listen to this song right here.

You've got too much to wear On your sleeves It has too much to do with me (very definitive of my "love life" or lack thereof)

32. The Postal Service - Nothing Better
A little side story: I have this thing for words. This year, I decided to go out on a date with this guy on the account that he used "I gather that" in a conversation. Words, they affect me!

Your heart won't heal right If you keep tearing out the sutures

one: the imagery of sutures appeal to me, two: its use is just very appropriate. One also has to consider the fact that this is a song, a conversation, between a couple (Jenny Lewis and Ben Gibbard in vocals, ftw!) They do not make songs like these anymore. Duets are <3

33. Death Cab for Cutie - Brothers on a Hotel Bed
Death Cab for Cutie makes some of the most lyrically exact songs. Exact in the sense that they could be any one's story. The 1min+ intro makes me want to tap my chest and grip it. Listen to the lyrics. There is a part of me fearful that maybe someday I will end up with this story. Painful as it is, I think most of us are condemned to this.

You may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be

Side note: the words "Break Away from the Concrete" (if you wanna leave a comment on this blog) and "Landlocked Lovers" (for those who have left a comment) are from this song.

34. Bright Eyes - First Day of My Life
This song will play in my wedding, assuming of course I will feel like getting married.

35. Pinback - Fortress
One of my favorite words: Fortress, because I have been told I wear a lot of them.

36. The Magic Numbers - Take A Chance
(Sorry not the full version)
The Magic Numbers may not always make the most cohesive and lyrically brilliant songs, but they sure make the most catchy tunes. This one makes me want to take of my shoes and dance.

37. Bloc Party - I Still Remember
Two of my favorite Bloc Party songs are in one album, FTW! I think of this song to be the background music to Seven Years Later, Driving Home, a poem by Justine Camacho.

38. The Decemberists - Oceanside
This song makes me blush. The sexual innuendo is controlled and very orgasmic. Sexual banter in sexy, sexy form.

If I could only get you ocean side/To lay your muscles wide/It'd be heavenly.

39. Wilco - I am Trying to Break Your Heart
For a while, this has been my twitter profile. Because I am like this. Because I subscribe to love the way this song describes it to be. I will not say anything anymore at the risk of giving out too much about myself.

40. Muse - Starlight
I named my camera after this song. Starlight is just so catchy, that if it gets played on shuffle more often than not you will not hit the next/skip button. The first few second just kills. The clapping and the tapping is just very infectious.

Bare Minimum Requirement for Attraction: #1 Not an Aquarius

2009-06-22T01:41:13Z

Fête de la Musique in Metrowalk Ortigas last Saturday (20 June 2009) was fun. While I didn't get to watch a lot of bands--saw only a few, with Turbogoth and Taken by Cars as the ones I remember the most--it was the conversation with so me frien ds after (over a few bottles of beer) which made the night an amusing one to recall.

I can not quite remember who brought the topic up: the bare minimum requirement for a relationship. I misinterpreted the question as the "worst guy who you can imagine yourself going out on one date with," this is surprising considering that no one has even mentioned any of those words in the conversation. I had even enumerated requirements such as listens to Spongecola and 33 yo as the bare minimum. (I would never date anyone who can not offer me a good song, and is beyond 5 years my senior.)

Thinking about it now, I know at least one type which I am pretty sure to stay away from: an Aquarius.

I have only dated two Aquarians in my entire life. However, this does not mean that I do not know any Aquarius. In fact, thinking about it now and counting all the people I do not like and am disgusted at, it would be safe to say that a notable majority of them are Aquarius.

If you are an Aquarius and you are reading this, I suggest for you to do any of the two things below:

(1) Stop reading from this point on or
(2) Help me change my mind.

One thing I notice about Aquarius is their need to prove that they are always right, how they are "better than thou", they are also very contrarian and have this need to always have a say on everything. All of them are very dogmatic and have this rigid, quite traditional view on almost everything. (I am not one to say that all Aquarius are like that, only the ones I know)

As of writing, I know 7 Aquarians who I severely detest the guts of. The thing with me and people from this sign, is that I start off pretty warm with them. I begin with a natural affinity and love for them which eventually turns into a severe disgust I lovingly wish them schadenfreude everyday.

1) My father. My father is an Aquarius born on the 12th of February. I actually know two other people born on this day, and I dislike them both. Out of respect for the man, and the fact that it was father's day yesterday, I will not say anything much about my father. Needless to say, he is in this list.

2) Jake Doctor, born on the 7th of February. My relationship with Jake is one which started out of mutual respect. We helped each other out in times of need, I made his Legal Philosophy paper and he stood by me during my mother's stroke. It would have not been so bad had I not been demonized by him because of some things I will not discuss here. After him asking me to continue being friends by exchanging correspondence, he magically disappears on me right after he asked me to help him with a letter he needs for law school. Way to go, asshole.

3) A boy born on the same day as my father. I will not put his name here. Two things I do not like most about this boy are: he uses people as an emotional crutch for happiness and that he is too clingy. I remember the exact moment I began to feel disgusted the moment he told me: "I know you love me too." Holyfvck, what? Ugh, NO.

4 & 5) My aunt and one of her daughters. Thinking about these two reminds me of the worst betrayals in my life. Considering their very narrow mind and their rigidity in opinion, I should have never been surprised that these Aquarians would never listen to other people's opinion other than the ones they are already accustomed to.

6) My cousin born on the 14th of February. This cousin of mine deserves an entry altogether. Which is what I will be doing within the week.

7) A college roomie born on the same day as my father. No, this isn't the one I tried to poison (lol). Conservative, possessive, and very judgmental. Our falling apart began when she started reading the messages in my phone suspecting that her girlfriend is cheating on her with me. While she remains to be one of the two Aquarians who are still dear to me, our relationship had gone from being warm to cold.

Because Aquarius left a bad taste in my mouth, I would like to declare that one of the bare minimum requirements for a harmonious relationship with me is that they are not Aquarius.

And because posts are better with photos, here is one of the two photos taken of me in Fête (from L to R) Nikki, JJ, Kath, Helga and Kel. (almost in photo is Alex):