on adulthood

*clears throat*

If you wanna be treated like an "adult"....

THEN YOU BETTER START ACTING LIKE ONE, DUMBASS.

and you can start by keeping that dog of yours on a shorter leash. sh*t. leave your personal life and the psychotic sh*t that goes with it AT THE MOTHERF*CKIN' DOOR, BUDDYBOY.

respect BEGETS respect. but if you're just PLAIN STUPID then...

f*ck you to Hell.

and and and...

if i HAD a facebook... YOU WOULD SOOOOOO NOT BE MY FRIEND. because real friends don't expect their friends to take their sh*t AAAAAAAAAND be treated like sh*t for it. and since you're NOT my friend, then I don't have to like your ass. and if this displeases you, then i can tell you to f*ck yourself... and not feel a crumb of remorse.

so don't do me any favors and i won't do you any.

and no, THIS IS SO NOT ABOUT YOU. so get over yourself.

FACEBOOK your FACE

I think Facebook is the funniest thing on earth.

Seriously.

(My sister, Paula sent me this photo because it reminded her of me and it made her laugh.)

....

So last Sunday, during the post-wedding/baby shower party of Mrs. Julie Tan (owner of Club Bureau and beautiful mom-to-be), our friends began to tease my youngest sister about her ever-changing relationship status on FB, after a friend asked if she really was engaged.

Yeah. Engaged IN HER HEAD. Like me. But whatever, right? A girl can hope.

Anyway, one of our friends made the funniest scenario regarding the whole thing (and I'm sorry Prince and Roni, I love you both to reese's pieces, but your FB drama is absolutely hilarious. The both of you are TRUE THESPIANS. =)

So our friend goes:
"Girl you change your status every week." (Where she quickly rebuts that she doesn't change her status, she just removes it)

"So what do you do, you get into a fight and start screaming on the phone 'I hate you!!!,' put down the phone then (whilst moving the mouse) *click*, [not engaged]. But then he gives you something like some sort of gift and (in girly voice) goes 'Oh my God, it's the new T.I. album,' so you *click* [engaged]."

(It was funnier seeing Nick reenact it furrealz. =)

The thought of it actually happening cracks me up. (And I bet a lot of you are guilty of that, too so don't even front. =)

Shoot if I had a Facebook, I'd probably do something like that. Haha! (Ok no I wouldn't but whatevs.)

....

Another friend of mine got engaged recently. He said so on his FB. And In came the influx of "congratulations" and "best wishes." I just don't know why he couldn't tell me personally.

*shrugs*

My boss then tells me that one of my colleagues "unfriended her." I mean, who unfriends their boss, right? But she was so adorable when she said it... like it really means something to be someone's friend on FB.

So I ran around the office screaming, "If you're not my friend on Facebook, you're not my friend in real life!!!!" while laughing my ass off.

Sheesh.

Then I go out later that evening and chance upon a quid pro quo amongst two friends (I assumed they were friends as their chat was lighthearted and comfortable). The guy asked her if she had already added him on Facebook and she said no and he was like why??? and she was like oh my gosh!!!... and I began to laugh out loud.

And meekly, I ask, "Uhm, why are you so affected that you're not her Facebook friend? I mean... isn't she your friend now? ....???.... I don't understand."

They began to laugh... perhaps at realizing how stupid it is. And I think... a lot of people on Facebook think that it actually IS stupid. And that it's the devil. But even though it's stupid and evil... people still find it addicting.

.....

My friends let me, on the rare occasions I wanna stalk someone, use their Facebook accounts. (Because humans are naturally curious and inquisitive beings, ok? So sue me.) Sometimes it's fun. It's fun to hate. It's fun to see how your childhood crush, the guy who broke your heart now has a receding hairline and is with some ugly-ass chick. It's fun to see the girls who teased you get uglier with every picture while you remain supa dupa fly. Hell, it's fun to make fun of people's dumb-ass photo captions --- like really? I haven't used "chillax" since '98, I don't see how that word came back into style. It's like saying "syke" or "word to your mother" --- but both being utterly cooler than "chillax."

***I've been drinking way too much hatorade lately, so pardon-y mwah.

But then you see something you'd rather wish you didn't see... something someone said... a photo (goddamn photos)... a greeting... a status message. And when that happens, it can really send you reeling into this horrible neurotic state of depression. And anger.

That's when you wanna just shut that sh*t right off. (Usually immediately right after you bust out into this whole I HATE FACEBOOK rant and wish you were a nomad who lived in Tibet. *ahem*)

And that's when I remember why I don't want a Facebook in the first place.

.....

I don't think people really like talking to me because they can't talk to me on Facebook.

Which kinda sucks since I'm a pretty awesome coffee-date.

But y'all will never know that.


.....

And for Chrissake, if you don't like my talking about Facebook because it affects you then STOP READING MY BLOGS. Better yet, stop airing your dirty laundry.

Bato bato sa langit, (insert expletive derogatory noun here).

.

i need to go back to yoga. my body needs its 90-minute beatdown. my chakra is totally dislocated. like it's slowly coming off its goddamn axis. what the f*ck is the fuss anyway? *shuts eyes really tight*

i wanna go to tibet. no phones, no one i know, and most of all, no godforsaken internet.

or to haiti or somalia or afghanistan and do volunteer work...

or back to jersey and visit my old neighborhood... and see if our elementary school principal (who we believe works for the mafia) is still there... or if my corner street crush "Peanut" still sits by his front porch steps wearing his bubble jacket.

i wanna take a bus somewhere. to the province, maybe. to ilocos.

sometimes i wish i walked around with a human fire escape.

this goddamn city and century is getting on my nerves.

SUMMER GIRLS

In the summer girls come and summer girls go
Some are worth while and some are so so,
Summer girls come and summer girls go
Some are worth while and some are so so,
Summertime girls got it going on
Shake and wiggle to a hip hop song
Summertime girls are the kind I like
I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike


Summer with the siblings = a lot of sexy, slutty sh*t. =P

(Ok no not anymore since we're all spoken for now. *tee-hee* =)

                          Boracay 2004 --- where we celebrated Roni's 17th birthday. =P

Five years later...


                   Bolinao 2009 --- where we celebrated Roni's 22nd birthday. (Mmmm...)



Mi mucho caliente.

                                                  Waikiki Beach, Hawaii
.....

It's nice to realize that I can still hang out with my little sisters (I still insist on calling them little rather than younger, for some strange motherly-like reason), despite how much we've grown up and the different lives that we lead now...

These girls will always be my bestest friends. Through the good, the bad, and the outrageously ugly.

(Hey Mika, Roni... we gotta get us a coffee-shake and have a few moments to talk amongst ourselves... minus the partners, hahaha!!!)

....

Oh and... neither of you are getting married in 2012! I've got dibs on that year and I don't wanna get "sukob" on that sh*t. =P

In the mood...

for loving...


And because I wanted to end this post-Valentine's week off with this song - (on F*CKING LOOP)


Let this sh*t "marinate." (Then go grab your man or woman and have you some sex in the morning... after your morning coffee, preferrably. =)



It’s in the morning I wanna touch
It’s in the morning I wanna love you
It’s in the morning no interruptions
It’s in the morning, Sex in the morning

Sex in the morning... sex in the morning...

*melts*

L.O.A.

Just printed my e-ticket for.... BORACAY. (Officially the most dangerous place on earth =)

Man, i haven't been to Bora since 2004 (for good reason --- ergo "lead us not into temptation")... but I do still remember some of the island's ground rules:

1.) What happens in Boracay, stays in Boracay.
2.) Everyone is single in Boracay. (though I swear the place is ruled over by the devil himself ESPECIALLY if you're single... and if you aren't, chances are, you'll get into a fight with your significant other)
3.) Refer to rules 1 and 2.

***A friend of mine gave me this orientation when I was like 20years old... I dunno if this still applies now... now... that there's a Jollibee in Bora. I mean... you can't fight at a frikkin' Jollibee. Sh*t's the happiest place on earth.

*shrugs*

So the younger siblings and I (alongside our better halves) will be up and out April 9-12 to celebrate my little sister's 23rd birthday and a pre-celebration of my fiance's 27th birthday.

God love summer birthdays.

And we finally get to meet the love of Mika's life.

So here we are:

                                        Myself and the fiance-slash-birthday boy

                    T.I. and the birthday girl (aka THE MOST DRAMATIC COUPLE I KNOW)

               Mikamouse and Mr. Ben (uhm sorry I never got to send you that postcard, Ben)



Six people, three couples...

One bedroom.


Bwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

NOT.

(Shoot, I ain't about to share a room with MY LITTLE SISTERS making all sorts of noise and sh*t... *vomit taste in mouth at the thought* Eeeeeeeew. Gross.)

.......

Then of course there's me and Paolo's Bohol trip with my older sister, Paula on March 22-25.

       With Ate Paula --- who is generously paying for me and Paolo's Bohol Trip *big smile*


(I have the awesomest older sister EVER. Even if she is a little weird and too cool to hang out with me, hahaha!)


.......

After these two trips... it's back to working hard, saving up... only this time...

For an actual wedding and a honeymoon in Spain. *winks* But that's another blog altogether. =P

FEB. 14, 2010

                            Our candlelit dinner at home (whilst listening to Amel Larrieux)

This crazy boneless Rib-eye Steak with Tomato sauce with mushrooms and bell peppers and corn on the side (with lots of pepper just the way I like it) and potato leek soup prepared by him (with the help of his mom =)

             His Valentine's gift for me (aside from a trip to THE SPA and a bouquet of roses)
                                       
  Now time for my very simple (but awesome) gift... VALENTINE'S GIFT CERTIFICATES!

Made him 20 gift certificates with an assortment of goodies that I HAVE TO oblige in doing... which is good until Feb. 14 of next year. (I forgot to include a gift cert. to give him a "Mind-blowing blowjob" but then again, he doesn't really need to give me a g.c. for that. HAHAHAHA!!!)

But this one, he will SURELY need:

This entitles Mr. Paolo Toledo to One "Nag-Free" Day (ok, there are a few gc's that say it IS "applicable whilst fight is commencing or during my period" --- just to be fair =)


And his favorite gift certificate:

  This certificate entitles Mr. Paolo Toledo to one "Michelle is my humble servant" day.

(Wonder when he'll use THAT gc. =)

Finally... there was dessert (which he made and created ALL BY HIMSELF)

                   Chocolate-covered cherries and bananas (which were absolutely delicious)

....

He told me not to "overplay" our whole Valentine's date... because he says everything he did, he can easily and willingly do on any other day (the bouquet of roses was as Valentine's-ish as it gets)... but I just think it isn't overplaying when you're sincerely grateful... especially when it comes to the simplest things... and the not-so-simple things... like, preparing an entire dinner without my knowing, making reservations at The Spa, the roses... and just being such a loving and firm partner (even when I almost killed valentine's by wanting to argue about --check this-- my weight and how I want to lose it... but that's another story altogether =)

Ergo...

I am prepared to accept the "one nag-free day" gift certificate... and live up to it.

F*ck. The things you do for frikkin' LOVE.

Green Eyed Monster

Because I, too, am a jealous girlfriend... far from perfect... with the occasional pseudo-psychotic lapses and quasi-bi polar episodes... who needs to masochistically self-deprecate and second-guess and just straight up b*tch in the most illogical, unreasonable, irrational manner possible because...

There's a warm fuzzy feeling you get when you're being pacified, comforted, and reassured. (And that just made me sound like a sadistic f*cker but hey hey hey, who the Hell isn't sometimes, huh?)

So today I will admit that I am not perfect. And that I can be very mean and absolutely unfair. And that my partner deserves better from me because he gives ME better (if not the best)... and you should give what you get whilst getting what you give.


.....
.....

Now my boyfriend doesn't really smile upon my wanting to always divulge our private lives... but... he doesn't really have a say in the matter (LOL!)... and since I think I shouldn't be afraid to admit to my own faults and my own weaknesses and show (despite what strong, indefeasibly self-righteous person people may perceive me to be) that he is my strength and a great source of insight.

Ergo insight of the century... (I'm sorry, Mr. Waffle... but you take my breath away... and make me feel more stupid than I already am but in a good way --- and I don't mind admitting this to the whole of the world because the world deserves to know how awesome you are and how lucky I am --- and the way you pacify, comfort and reassure me is absolutely... humbling. =)



***Response to another one of my bi-polar episodes via offline YM message.

1) Why do you call me the biggest weirdo ever? 2) Why are you cowed? I do not intend you to be... 3) I WASN'T LIKE THIS. I DID NOT LOVE LIKE THIS BEFORE. YOU ARE NOT GETTING A HAND-ME-DOWN (and yes, how dare YOU say that). YOU ARE GETTING AN EXCLUSIVE, LIMITED EDITION, FIRST ISSUE. 4) I did not want you to sign up for competition...I didn’t either....and don’t I always stress that it shouldn’t be a competition? You aren't competing with anyone but yourself...but if it's worth anything, I’d bet on you to love me the best 5) that's all I can ask for and all that I want and need...for you to love me like you know how to...how you choose to....and you will NEVER fall short in my eyes and in my heart... if you do fall, you've already established such a change and a lead that falling would be inconsequential because how can you fall short when YOU have set the bar...you're both the exception and the standard to which the world must put itself against....and THEY will fall short....6) every time I hear you talking about quitting or breaking up...or wanting such things....and not loving me or wanting me....it weakens me....but it NEVER lessens my love for you....and it’s the type of weakness that makes me drop into submission of how much I love you...and DOESN’T mean that I won’t be strong for you 7) how can I love them better if I choose you...I can't love them better because it’s you who deserves my love...come to think of it....my past were all trials...it's more logical that everything was a trial to prepare me for you… you who I want to and choose to be the endpoint...the happy ending...the conclusion....the great love that conquers and obliterates all loves… and these things are what YOU SHOULD REMEMBER during an episode. Kill the episodes. Outgrow them. Beat them. That is your challenge. They do no good for anyone, especially you. Please. I'm telling you...no, pleading you....what to do. Firm, but with such love.

....

I am going to print this and paste it on my wall and read it over and over until I get it thru my thick skull that I should stop being psycho and just fucking believe that my fiance loves me and that I should love him just the same.

Shit, this is gonna be hard, hahahaha!!! But hey, the things you do for love, right? =P

(This goes for you, too, missy.)

HAPPILY NEVER AFTER

Once upon a time…

 

When you broke up with someone…

You had the time and the privacy to mourn the loss.

It was once such a beautifully bittersweet luxury to just let the pain, the anguish, the nostalgia flow through you like a crashing wild river of ice cold water, throwing your soul against jagged rocks, pushing you deeper as you struggle to the surface to gasp for air. Or sometimes, it's like having the burning, inescapable truth burn holes in you until everything you once felt, once knew, once believed, once shared, once once once upon a time… was drained from your body.

Gone.

Like the smoke that leaves your mouth with very soothing cigarette. The kind that holds back the tears. And you can find a reason to sit on the floor and hug your knees and rock yourself back and forth and stare at the floor or at the wall without really thinking, just… a lot of “trying to forget” forgetting and really just a lot of listening to some cheesy,but ridiculously "on point" break-up song and making the singer your best friend (because no one would understand you better than Keyshia Cole or Taylor Swift... and they'd be less judgmental).

And if you had an ounce of strength left in that body, upon every word that dropped with every melody… you would probably just nod and say, “ain’t that the fucking truth.”

 

Until facebook fucked it up.

 

God people you don’t have to change your status right away you know. Sheesh. I’ve been “in a relationship” (on my friendster *ahem*) since 2003. I think it’s good to mourn alone first before immediately giving the pain away to be shared with other people to be turned into a superficial display of melodrama. I think it’s something we shouldn’t avoid actually “dealing” with. The thing with breakups is… you can make a big theatrical show of it all for yourself. You can overexaggerate it. You can succumb to it. Plunge headfirst into it. You can grab that notebook and scribble disparate rhapsodies onto it until your fingers bleed. And you can cry and cry and cry and be alone with God and figure out in the middle of all your crying, what the hell you’re supposed to do now.

And then you find yourself again.

***I apologize for the helluh corny entry title (PCD, really?). I couldn't think of anything better but hey, the song is actually pretty ok to listen to if you wanted to emote.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pETEB5K9QJg

GOOD MORNING, MICHELLE.

You know a lovely morning when, while you're in an important meeting, all you can think about is last night (or perhaps, in most cases, earlier, earlier this morning) and how only several hours ago, you knew exactly how his skin felt against yours...

His depth, breadth, height...

His mouth making full circles around your damp...
lips... or any other crevice... just as...
pink.

And the memory somehow... lingers. Like a haunting vivid dream. (You lick your lips to secretly make sure that it was real.)

Rubbing your own arms to see if your hands overwhelmed him the way his did and you can never quite capture the moment of it alone...

But God just thinking about it makes me...

...
...
...........

Want to think about it some more... as a timid smile begins to form on my face and just as slowly... I remember how he looked... from below.

And behind.

And from on top.


I totally didn't get what my boss was talking to me about.



......


Of course, despite my wanting to just space out and go back into fantasizing about last night's (earlier this morning's) sweet, sweet interwining (God that was a lame way to put it)...

I was able to bargain --- out of the kindness of our Tech Editor's heart after I implored, "But c'mon! My boyfriend's japanese, I should be the one to go!!!," to which he finally receded as candidate ---

A 5-day business trip to... JAPAN.

Shit and a half, I would've cried if I didn't get to go.

Seriously.

God I love my job. And God love out of the country media events and extra allowance and business class and five-star hotel accommodations and free tours. ---As our lovely jetsetter ed. asst. Danee would have it, "F*ck backpacking, backpacks, and unsafe hostels. We want first-class, trolleys (filled with nice clothes, shoes, and makeup), hotels... and hotel BREAKFAST BUFFETS."

And man, do I have a thing for hotels. Like... if I could travel around the world just to check out the country's hotels (and not even the tourist spots), that would be the dream. *melts*

But now I have to learn how to properly review a printer as the business trip to Japan is for Epson.

*smacks forehead*

......

Oh and this made me laugh...

My little sister's comment (to pic below) to my boyfriend, "Multiply this face to the rest of your liiiiiiiiiiiiives!!! Hahahahahaha! What bliss. :P"




Wherein he replies:
"Her thousand scowls are swept by her morning smile :) and THAT is bliss."


How wild is that?!!!!!! Man, who TALKS like that??? (Babe, really. Who does? What guy in their right mind would say that? You're either really really sweet or just really really SPRUNG. =)


Ergo.... (and I don't care if using "ergo" is even appropriate in this context but it makes for such a great segue)...


I am frikkin' giddy today.
Shoot.
I think I'm bi-polar.
Oh well. =)

"I love you, but you are fucking crazy." ---- Paolo.

"Don't forget stupid." =)

You and Eye

It's the pauses when she touches him that betray

the sorrow behind every urgent 

kiss that is not so much a gesture of want

as a pleading, 

a begging full to overflowing with self-hate.

"Take me away from my ghosts.

I can't think with them dancing a riot in my head."

And he looks at her,

the saddest eyes he's ever wanted to save,

remembers all the red flags he shrugged off,

supposed he was strong enough

(and he was)

to unravel the yarn of thorns and scourges that

textured their embrace.

It was a minor salve, in a way,

because there were no smoke and mirrors and best-foot-forwards 

and the preening of courtship,

the very thought of which made them both yawn.

It was a chase and a throb and a fire,

something to render new, something to sweetly rue,

something to do and undo,

something to destroy and soothe,

something to meander, surrender to.

 

But it got bigger than them, 

in the manner that lovers always

underestimate just how combustible their entwining is.

 

Because the past never ends and the future does not come.

In fact, there is no such thing as a future,

just an aftermath.

And this, she muses, 

in the way of a vigilant calamity veteran taking quiet inventory, 

really really fucking hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

***Camoi Miraflor is officially my favorite young poet. (I was him and he was her... and those were my eyes.)

To drink and drive

I don't think I should readily tell guys that I'm a heavy drinker.

....

Apparently... guys think you're easy if you're a pretty alchoholic. (Ok, not all guys but some guys...)

As if a higher-tolerance for alcohol is directly proportional to a higher-tendency to... say, cheat. Or do something slutty.

Is this true???

(Ok subconscious is whispering to me that this assumption is sort of true, LOL!)

*shrugs*

***Ooh, but I totally testdrove that -------------------------------->
all the way up to La Union.

(2.0 2010 Honda CRV AT in Urban Titanium =)




Sheesh, can't a girl be pretty and smart and be a kick-ass driver and drink a lot and still be considered a contemporary?!

And if this is starting to sound like I'm full of myself well... soooooorrrry. But this was just an observation. And it's not exactly fun when you can't be in your element just because a guy wants to assume that post-modern women are just mere mutations of the 19th century courtesan.

Ergo...

(You have your own room, buddyboy. And if you "conveniently" misplace your hotel key, I'm sure front desk has a spare... and this, my friend, is pretty SOP-ish. Because unless you are Johnny Depp... there ain't no way I'm letting you in. Because only Johnny can have NO GAME and still have game.)



......




I never did like automatic transmission, though.

It's a b*tch to over-take.