STORY: Hectic Weekend

I haven't been so busy during a weekend in such a long time... but I'm not complaining!

Early Friday, the yearbooks got delivered. I had to help the delivery boys bring every single one of the 350+ yearbooks to the second floor office... Not to mention how difficult it was to get through St. Scho security (since getting outsiders inside the premises takes a lot of work!) 

Later that day, Jose and I went to Paranaque for his friend's elaborate apology. I was exhausted from my activities (and maybe my glass/es of margarita. Shhh.) that afternoon, so I was running on reserve fuel the entire 3-4 hours we spent that night. I met up with my bed past 11pm.

Saturday morning, I was up early for the yearbook distribution. The yearbooks had to be transported from the second floor office all the way to the Social Hall (which was at the ground floor of another building). When I got to the venue, my co-Pax mates had already started bringing the yearbooks down so I was saved from that but still, the rest of the morning was still tiring! Having to flip through heavy packages of yearbook looking for each one's yearbook (Our yearbook is personalized) is painful to the arms and back!

I left at around 1pm because I had another appointment in the afternoon. I had lunch at Jose's house first before heading to the nearby salon to have my hair straightened. I was going to attend the Penshoppe Fan Conference featuring Zac Efron at 6pm (but I agreed to meet Vannah, my co-trainee and co-fangirl at 3pm) and I wanted to look pretty in case I get a chance to take a picture with THE Zac Efron. More on that on a separate post... too much emotions! Anyway, I capped off the day at midnight.

Sunday morning, I slept in 'til 1130am (even though I had planned to sleep the entire day). Mom woke me up to ask what we wanted delivered since she woke up late and didn't get a chance to prepare lunch. We were all tired of chicken so we ended up going to Robinsons Otis to eat at whatever place we could find there (also to buy Gibbs'd dog food). We got back home at 2pm (since we all tried the massage chairs for two rounds each! Haha) and bought some ice cream. I went back to sleep and was awakened at 6pm.

I scrambled to take a shower and get dressed in time for Jose and I to catch the 730pm mass. We made it to mass just in time! We got back home before 9pm and joined my family for dinner. He left at 930pm.

It's 1120pm now and I guess it's time I cap off this night, too! I guess that ends the most hectic weekend ever! ♥ 

STORY: Movie Worthy

Friday night, Jose brought me along to his friend's "proposal" gimmick. I eventually found out that it was actually an elaborate apology and not a proposal. Anyway, he told me that his friend asked his Team FD (a group of Honda Civic owners) buddies to bring their cars along and post a letter on their windshields as part of the gimmick. But that plan was scratched when got there and everyone who got invited just ended up being the audience to the movie-worthy apology. 

We waited in the function room in the village clubhouse for almost an hour. Jose's friend, Bunty (I don't know if I spelled it correctly) picked up his ex-girlfriend (the girl had no idea about us being there waiting for them to arrive) and finally arrived at the venue. We were all waiting at the steps of the clubhouse facing the field where there was this red-lit diamond with balloons right down the middle. As soon as we saw the girl and Bunty walking towards the diamond, the speakers blasted the song "One More Chance" and the "audience" held up the "I'm Sorry" and "One More Chance" posters. 

I didn't know what the apology was for but it must have been something really bad for the guy to go through all this trouble to say sorry. I eventually found out (notice how I always find things out eventually? Jose doesn't really relay information very well so I end up finding it out on my own!) that the couple broke up two years ago and this was the guy's attempt to get back together. I'm not going to keep you all in suspense and just go ahead and blurt it out... the gimmick worked! By the end of the night, they were smiling and teasing each other like any other couple (Of course, there will be more talking and working things out that will happen after that night, but at least the girl agreed to try again) I swear, as I was talking photos, it felt like the scene came straight out of those Pinoy RomCom movies! No wonder the girl said yes!

STORY: Meet My Mates!

I've been in the company I'm with right now for almost 5 months and yet, I still have not introduced my co-trainees! I've mentioned them once or twice before so it's about time to put some faces to the names.

A testament to how much time I have on my hands (in my defense, I made this cartoon during the first month of training, so we really did have a lot of spare time), I was able to make a cartoon version of all 7 of my co-trainees! 

STORY: Nothing is Exhausting!

You've heard people complain about being so tired from all the stuff that they have to do, but have you ever heard of someone who is tired from doing nothing? Well, I never thought the day would come but it did. That someone who is tired from doing nothing is me.

I think I've exhausted all entertainment sites I know and yet it is still just 2:30 pm. Hay, sometimes I feel embarrassed about my problems. 

 I brought my mom's shawl so I could use it as a blanket. A jacket didn't really suit my attire today but I couldn't risk freezing to death! I'd rather die of boredom than from extreme cold!

Minus the lola shawl. Spot my smokey eyes! :P

More photos from more bored days

STORY: Hater

I don't like hating on people. Honest. Believe it or not, I am a lover of peace and joy and happiness and would love to see the day when I only see the goodness in people. But I hate you... and you haven't really done anything to me. Yes, I'm that kind of person. I hate on people for existing... but don't worry, I hate myself for that, too.

It's like your existence just brings unnecessary fear in my life. I'm afraid that you could steal something away from me. I'm afraid that you are such a good human being that you are better at everything. I hate that. You make me feel like what I have is inadequate. You make me feel horrible by being great at being yourself. 

I just hate you. I hate you so much! Did I say that already? Well, I haven't said it enough since outside my blog, and outside my head, I can only say how great a person you are. Because really, I don't need people thinking I'm a bad person for hating for no reason... but the truth has to come out some way, somehow. So while I fake my pleasantries, know that I hate you... because you are [actually] an awesome person.

STORY: Looking For Trouble

Why do I have a thing for drama these days? It's like I'm looking for trouble! And with that note, I can't resist quoting The Lion King:
Young Simba: I was just trying to be brave like you. 
Mufasa: Simba, I'm only brave when I have to be. Being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble. 

Anyway, back to my drama. I just keep over thinking things these days. I mean, I just got over an "episode" and now that everything is fine again, I'm thinking of things that will just ruin my peace! Crazy, right? There really is nothing wrong in my life right now (Thank God) but I keep attracting drama to myself. I don't intend for these thoughts to come into my head, but they do, and I entertain them! It's like I have gotten used to having so much drama that I actually thirst for it now. It's scary! 

The drama I'm letting into my head is starting to sting a little already, which tells me that this has to stop. This is stupid. Why should I put myself through unnecessary pain? But the heart and mind are too complicated for me. It isn't easy to just do what I think I should be doing. Losing control over my thoughts and actions is scaring me...

but not scaring me enough to stop looking for trouble. 

THEORY: Outgrown People

We outgrow shirts. We outgrow shoes. We outgrow our taste for bubblegum pop. And we outgrow people. I don't mean to equate humans with objects, but it appears that the principle applies to both living and inanimate. Truth is, we change, we mature, we grow, and sometimes the clothes, the shoes, the popstar idol and the people around us don't grow with us. 

For me, there is nothing wrong with that. It's the truth. We do outgrow people. I don't understand why society forces me to like to be around people that don't make sense anymore. I mean, society understands that my fashion choices should be left in the '90s where they belong, or that my fangirling over the star that is spiraling her way down to rehab every other month must be put to an end, but society doesn't understand that my friendship with this person must be left to memory as well. They call me a bad person for "forgetting people" but isn't that just normal? This just doesn't make sense.

Sure, we were friends once in my life, and boy were those times we shared really good times, but our relationship ended when we lost interest in things we once shared in common... oh, and when they boy band we would sing along to broke up. I don't hate you and I hope you don't hate me too, but I just don't think I want to hang out anymore. Ugh, I feel like a really bad person for saying that but admit it, you were thinking the same thing for some time, too. 

But I will succumb to the pressure of society and will keep my mouth shut. I will keep our friendship on my shelf and let it collect dust, rather than freeing both of us from the obligation that friendship requires. So, my closets have been emptied of outgrown shirts and shoes, my playlist have been rid of painful bubblegum pop (well, not completely), but I will keep you, my outgrown friend around... because society says I should.

Ang again, I don't hate you at all. I needed to clear that out, because I really don't. 

THEORY: Fear The Familiar

Sometimes, I fear the very thing that makes me feel safe. It's crazy that I am able to feel contradicting feelings  at the same time, but I guess that's life for you. 

I fear the familiar as much as I love how safe it makes me feel. Am I alone in this insanity? I mean, in a world of chaos, we struggle to find something that makes sense, something we understand, something we've seen before. But after that struggle, after we've found that safe, familiar haven, it gets scary. This haven begins to become a world on its own. Because we are afraid of going back into the chaotic, complicated and unpredictable world, we start to fall deeper into this small haven we've created for ourselves. It's fine at first, but how long until we forget how life is outside this place? How long until we've lost any motivation to move forward? How long until we end up contented with where we are and just wait until things end on its own? 

I don't want to forget, I don't want to stay still, and I most definitely do not want things to just die without even giving a shot at living. But I'm torn. I'm afraid if I risk going out of my little haven, I may never find this peace and security again. I've seen many people struggle to be where I am, so this haven must really be all that, right? Am I crazy to be even thinking of giving it up? But what if this is just fear speaking to me? What if it's just my scared self clinging on to the familiar that's holding me back from a better haven out there? 

I don't know. I've mustered enough courage to ask the questions, but I don't think I'm ready for the answers just yet.

I just remembered this song by Katherin McPhee, I Had It All, as I typed in this blog entry. In no way is this reflective of my life ah! Theory 'to! The song just shares the same sentiments as me. The persona is afraid of settling, that's why she's trying to find something better out there, at the same time she's afraid of finding out that "better" was already there from the start.

STORY: Spark in the Dark

Today, I realized how much more value people put on things that they are deprived of for a long time. 

I don't want to go into specifics because I might get into to trouble for this if the right people dig this up, so this serves as an apology for the vagueness that will transpire.

A person was going frantic about not being able to inform me of a cancelled rendezvous. At first, I didn't know that this was what the fuss is all about. I thought the "urgency" that the people relayed to me really meant something urgent. Apparently, the "urgency" they were talking about was about this person trying to contact me to inform me that I shouldn't hurry up to meet her since the meeting is cancelled. How thoughtful was that? It isn't something grand or anything but that gesture was the highlight of my past 3 months. No kidding. After 3  or 4 months of being treated like I didn't matter, like I wasn't good enough, like I wasn't worthy of respect, that simple gesture made me feel that I mattered, that I was good enough, that I was respected. 

It sounds exaggerated but really, after being in the dark for so long, the tiniest spark feels like the sun.

THEORY: Please Don't Laugh

You have a weird laugh... which I like and all, but please laugh no more. 

It's crazy how your laugh makes me like you even more. You find the most random things funny (oddly enough, you do not laugh at things I find hilarious :/) and I just laugh along with you. You light up when you laugh, you know, when you laugh your real laugh. You look better than you usually do... not that you have to be any better looking since you are already a cutie in my eyes (Oy! I will never admit this in person if you are reading this, you!).

Please don't laugh your cute laugh anymore, okay? I don't want you giving me any more reasons to fall deeper under your spell. Then again, I have this really funny joke to tell you, so... 

STORY: Suppressed Review

I really, really want to do a movie review of the latest John Lloyd-Bea film, The Mistress but it's still too soon! It's etiquette to keep from posting spoilers at least two weeks after a film is released as consideration for those who are yet to catch the flick. 

Hay, I'm going to have to suppress my thoughts for now. 

P.S. I can't help it! I have to say that the film was something different compared with other Pinoy films in it's league. Super different... and a good kind of different. Waaaaaaah. Watch it already, people!

STORY: Like The Movies

I felt like the moment came straight out of a movie.

I would walk you out to our gate, along our dark alley, when it was time for you to leave during your visits at my place. We always, always share a hug or a kiss goodbye there, almost as if it was a mandatory thing. None of us required it, but if one of us didn't do it, it meant that something wasn't right. It was a habit that we formed unintentionally and without words. We just both knew that this would be our thing. 

Anyway, I was surprisingly pleasant during the ride home today (more than I expected of myself and apparently, from your nervous behavior, more than you expected as well). I knew that bothered you because you wouldn't stop fidgeting with my hand and wouldn't stop smelling my hair or kissing my forehead. It was more funny than romantic because we both could sense how crazy nervous you were. I don't know if you were nervous for the reasons I think you are, but you were nervous and it was kind of cute.

Back to our rom-com moment. So, the ride home was pleasant, your stay in our couch was also pleasant, and our goodbyes were pleasant. From the way I see it, there should no longer be reason for you to be nervous. You were on your way out of the door and I caught up with you and I walked you out through our alley... as always. And then you hugged me. Even if you always did hug me, this one was different. I'm not sure how or why but I knew it was different and I knew you felt it, too. I was smiling, although you didn't see it. That was my first genuine smile of the day. It was quite amazing that you saw through my fake pleasantries and that you just didn't buy my everything's-fine attitude the entire time we were together. In my mind, I knew that was why you were so nervous the entire time. You didn't point out my fake facade but I knew that you knew I wasn't really happy and if I had a choice, I wouldn't have been as pleasant.

We both let go of that hug that really made me feel special. I started to wave goodbye as you headed for our gate. Then you turned around and walked back to me and just hugged me again. Just as warm and tight as the first one. I laughed at the surprise hug but deep inside I felt so happy I wanted to cry. I was so unsure of a lot of things but at that very moment, it's like nothing was wrong. I forgot about everything that bothered me. I was just happy again. I asked you why you did that and you said that you felt something was wrong. That if the worst would happen that I decide to break up with you, you'd at least made the most of our last moments. I laughed at your response but deep inside I felt the same way. What if this was our last moment together? 

You did that same thing two more times and each time I found it more difficult to hold my tears back. I laughed it off of course and I believe you bought that laugh that time. After the fourth hug, I started to walk back towards our front door. I already had one foot inside the house when I felt that you were running back to me all the way from the other end of the alley. I thought you had already left since I saw you open the gate already but no, you came back a fifth time. This time you hugged me so tight, you lifted me from the ground. I hugged  you back as tight as I could and as quick as possible. If I hold on any longer I might not want to ever let you go again... also, my tears were just a second away from making a scene. 

I didn't turn my back after that fifth time. I watched you until you walked all the way to the gate, opened it, and went out. I shouted my usual, "Ingat!" and you responded with your usual smile and that was it. I ran to the bathroom to cry a little but other than that, I had my 5 minutes of movie-worthy moment. 

I felt like the moment came straight out of a movie... but this one was better, because this one was script-less, raw, and real.

THEORY: Two Problems

Seriously, the movie Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen defines this period of my life right now. (Not the movie, just the movie title, okay? I am not about to go on a crazy, exaggerated adventure to meet my super idol rock star, and I'm not about to make up half of my life. I'm not there yet.)

But there are two problems in this situation
  • I am not a teenager. I am way past adolescence and all that hormonal shizzle that trigger this kind of unreasonable inclination towards drama. So, I have no valid excuse for my behavior. I am expected to be mature, calm, and rational about conflict but it appears that I am leaning towards drama  as much  as Lindsay Lohan's character did in her [terribly cheesy] flick.
  • I am not a teenager. Did I say that already? Well, this problem counts twice.
Yes, I'm a drama queen and I'm not happy about it. 

THEORY: Describe Hurt, Please

I always hear people say that they are hurt. Heck, I keep talking about hurt in this blog! But really, how does hurt feel? I mean, there is scraping-your-knee-and-it-stings-when-you-put-medicine hurt and there is this other kind of hurt that hasn't been as explained or described. Well, to me at least. So, when I say I'm hurt, what do I actually feel? 

I'm going to take a moment to just feel everything, just so I can describe it. I guess this would be helpful for people who haven't experience the kind of hurt I'm talking about (good for you!). Just so they know that there are far worse aches in this world that would make scraping your knee feel like falling into a thick, fluffy hotel bed.

Well, it starts with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. It's like there is pressure building up (and no, I'm not talking about gas) and that it's trying to rise. You could feel it (whatever IT is) move around inside you, and after a while, it starts to go to your chest. It's feels like the air is squeezing your lungs in, making it difficult to breathe. As you inhale and your lungs expand, it gets more painful. A little later, it feels like the pressure is squeezing your heart, like it's preventing your heart from beating. Then all of a sudden, the blood running through your veins feel like they just stopped. Your arms and legs feel paralyzed and weak, while your hands and feet turn cold (and it doesn't matter that it's burning hot outside). Sometimes, you even shiver, like a cold air just passed through your spine. Sometimes, your hands begin to shake uncontrollably. But those are occasional. Sometimes you get lucky and you actually have some sort of control over your body's vibrations. However, crying is guaranteed. Whether you feel like you have to cry or not, you just do. From your chest, the pressure creates a knot in your throat. You try to swallow it but it just won't go away. Speaking has become so difficult you just mumble words - words even you can't understand! Then, the pressure reaches your head. Your temples feel like they are going to burst and your skull feels like a hot air balloon filled with hot air, just ready to take off. Your eyes begin to heat up as well, which is about the same time you begin to cry. Sometimes it's the poise, slowly-rolling-down-the-cheek type but most times it's the ugly cry when your lips form these weird curves you didn't even know you could do, when your eyes form ugly squints that hardly show any eyeball, just unsightly eye bags folded over each other. And your nose! It cringes like your bridge is going to crack. Then eventually, your eyes begin to sting from all the wiping. And you just don't even try to keep the tears from wetting your pillow (sometimes even your snot, because really, who cares if you look like crap? I mean, you feel like crap so might as well let it show)

Usually, the 'hurt" ends with sleep. Not because you have released it or you have resolved it, but because your body has just given up. You wake up the next day slightly relieved from the momentary escape, but it only takes a few minutes for good old brain to remind you that the hurt isn't over.

Really, if this is the world's way of getting back at me for not having experienced as much scraped knees, bruises and cuts when I was a child, then please, I would have preferred that! Scrape my knee, bruise my arms, cut my fingers but please, spare my heart. I don't think I have medicine for that.

THEORY: Survivor

Nakakairita na talaga.

I don't know what to say anymore. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know anything anymore. I just cry like stupid and I'm not even sure why. I keep telling myself that it's nothing, that it's petty, that I would laugh at myself a few months later for fussing over something like this, but I can't dictate how I feel, even though I want to so, so, very much (The redundancy was intentional. FYI).

I thought I was over this. I thought I was done with this phase, even at least for the entire year. Hindi pa ba ako naka-quota? Grabe. But it looks like the answer is no. I guess the storm isn't over and I am less prepared than I was the first, second, even third time it came around... which could only mean, I am less likely to survive this time. 

THEORY: Tucked Away

This is getting crazy... too crazy.

I have too many emotions than I know what to do with. I am going back and forth, feeling happy and sad, safe and scared, loved and betrayed, all with just a few minutes to transition. My mind is trying to cope with the chaos of it all but my heart seems to be giving up. I guess it's not in it's best shape to keep up.

I want to say that it doesn't bother me, that I don't feel sad, that I don't think about it more than I should, but I'd be lying. But lie I still do. So now, I end up telling the truth to myself and my blog. So, all the tears I kept from rolling down my cheeks in front of you are now creating a small puddle in my pillow. 

I try to forget everything that bothers me when I leave my room. I leave my depression there in my bed, tucked away from the world, so I can function like a normal person. So as I fake my joy, I unintentionally do find myself laughing and having a great time with people I meet through my day, including you. I find myself singing a song out loud and holding your hand as we head home as if nothing is wrong... and it that moment nothing is. 

But then, I reach home, tired from the day, so eager to jump into the bed and sleep, and meet my depression once again. I cry it all out, as much as my tear ducts can handle, and sleep... and forget, even for just a little while. Then I wake up the next morning, tuck that disgusting pile of negativity, insecurity and sadness away, and put on my best smile and try to make it through another day.

THEORY: How Can I Hate You

You know what, I hate you so much.

I hate that you make feel like I am the prettiest girl in the world by choosing to be with me over all the other ones around. You didn't tell me I was beautiful as much as I would've liked, since I fantasize life to be like the movies where the actor is just mesmerized by his leading lady every second of the day, but I didn't really mind that. I actually liked that you reminded me that I was pretty from time to time, even without saying it.

I hate that you make me feel like I am the smartest person you know. I hate that you value what I thought and what I had to say. How you would come to me when you had questions like you knew I always had the answers... even if I didn't. I didn't actually mind when you went for the option I didn't choose, the fact that you always think of consulting me, of including me in the planning, is already very special to me.

I hate that you make me feel like I am so awesome to be around. I hate that you make me feel that I am someone you can sit around and do nothing with. How you make me feel that the activity is not as important as the person you're with, for you to have a great time. How you make me feel I am that interesting, that funny, that special to make another person happy.

I knew I was really none of those things. That I was never the prettiest, smartest or awesomest person in the world, and I was okay with that. But you had to be so mean to break the illusion you created. I mean, you made me feel like I was pretty and smart and awesome and now, the same person who made me believe in something that wasn't really true, is breaking the news that the fantasy is over. That there really is someone pretty, smart and awesome out there who doesn't need an illusion to feel like she is all those things.

I hate you so much right now... but then again, I couldn't hate anyone for telling the truth.

THEORY: Gray Area

I don't like being fooled. I don't like being cheated on. I don't like having my trust betrayed. I mean, who does? But the hard part is knowing if you really are cheated on. I mean, are there rules or guidelines that people follow to label a person a "cheater?" Because maybe, I just feel cheated on but I really am not.

I am no expert in relationships but there is one rule I have been following my entire life - trust your gut. If something feels wrong, it must be wrong. If something feels right, it must be right. Because really, there are all these relationship rules out there, but they do not really apply to everyone... mainly because every relationship is different. We shouldn't expect these relationship rules to work for a certain couple and also work for a totally different couple. It just doesn't work that way. 

Anyway, my gut is telling me that this is wrong but relationship rules say otherwise. I know I said I don't believe in all that rules and stuff but the contradiction between my feelings and thoughts is just too much for me not to consider seeking some structure. 

Is it okay for someone in a relationship to like like someone else? Although the person in the relationship  isn't really doing anything about this attraction, doesn't that merit some sort of betrayal? And the clincher is that this person in a relationship spends time with this person he likes, not necessarily doing anything wrong wrong, but isn't the situation bordering out of the gray area into black? I don't know. My gut is telling me this won't turn out well but I welcome your opinion. 

THEORY: Stereotype

I know I'm going to be every bit of a stereotype in this post but I'm going to share my thoughts anyway. I don't like saying what I feel. I like keeping things to myself and letting others figure out that I am feeling a certain way. I do not know if it is hardwired into being female or I'm just plain mean, but getting mad at people for not being psychic seems to be an unfortunate characteristic I possess. 

I think it's a way to protect myself. Expressing how I feel makes me vulnerable. I allow someone else to know that I'm sad, or angry, or happy, or jealous, or insecure because of them. It's a scary feeling knowing that someone else has power over you, that someone else is able to affect how you act and feel, so letting them know about it, acknowledging that this power is true, is just going to make the situation even worse. Right? Am I making sense?

But of course, as much as I want to keep the feelings in and pray that it magically goes into oblivion, that never really happens. The feeling just bounces around inside, sometimes in my stomach, sometimes in my head, but most times in my heart. I have tried to deal with the restlessness this cooping up of feelings has brought, but no technique has worked so far. So my being upset, my being jealous, my being angry just stays there inside me, building up and crushing me from the inside.

Unfortunately, I get mad at the people that cause these emotions for not doing anything to make me feel better. Never mind that the logic of my wish is non-existent, I just get mad at them and they do not even know why. They try to figure it out (but I do give hints every now and then) and when they do get it right, I deny it! Again, admitting that they have power over me is just too scary for me to actually go through! So I say the cliche lines you see on Tumblr, Twitter and Facebook about girls saying one thing but meaning another thing like, "Nothing" "Sure, I'm okay" "No, you go ahead" but really, it's not nothing, I'm not okay and I do not want you to go anywhere. 

Sometimes I curse being female. Actually, I just curse being me.

P.S. My latest coping strategy is just crying all the feelings out. I try not to fight with anyone who doesn't read my mind and just deal with my issues in a corner, or in a restroom cubicle and cry. Okay, loser signs are flashing towards me already, I'll stop now.

THEORY: Growing Dreams

I refuse to face the fact that I am no longer as much of a dreamer as I used to be. These days, I would speak of my belief of happily ever afters and rainbows after the rain, but believe less and less in what I preach. I have become more skeptical about things and less motivated to prove my doubts wrong. I don't like to admit that this is happening, but I guess my denial isn't helping the dreamer inside me find the courage to take over my life again, huh? Maybe this what they call growing up. Oh my gosh, I'm growing up! Nooooo

I hate how when I make my list of things to achieve by the time I'm 25 in my head, I stop myself and tell myself all the reasons why this dream is not practical, how this dream is not reachable, or why this dream is pointless. I used to believe no dream was pointless, that dreams were dreams and that these dreams did not need reasons for them to qualify as a dream. But I have been unconsciously doing that, the analyzing of my dreams whether it is dream-worthy or not, for sometime now and I only realized that when I noticed my dream list has gone down to zero. It appears that nothing is practical enough, reachable enough or worthy enough to dream about. And that is just sad. 

Let me give you an example. For the past 2 or 3 years, I have been tossing the idea of moving out and living alone sometime in my 20s in my head. Actually, even when I was younger, I would dream of the independent life and all the things I would be doing. But now, when I would visit the idea, I wouldn't classify this thought as a dream. Every time I would imagine this fantasy life, I would be abruptly cut by my thoughts of bills, of chores, of having to think of what to eat when I get home. And when I get cut, I don't try to go back to my fantasy, I just wake up and go back to my reality. I just move on and don't even try to give my fantasy a fighting chance to be a dream. I hate myself for that! Ever since I entered my teenage years, this fantasy was all I would dream about. My "Someday I will..." sentence always had living alone in it but it appears I have given up on that dream. And I feel I betrayed myself for that.

I always like reading the flyers for condominiums that sales people hand out in malls and in the streets. I would look at the floor plan and imagine how I would decorate the place, how I would receive guests, how I would let my sisters sleep over for the weekend. But after that brief moment of imagination, I just crumple the flyer and throw it away. However, these days, I have been keeping the flyers. I have been looking up the condominiums online and researching more about the location and payment schemes. I have given this fantasy a chance to be a dream once again. I believe it is because I decided to accept that I am growing up and that dreaming is a whole different thing then and now, that I am finally able to start making my dream list again. Confrontation and acceptance of how I've changed was what I really needed. Hanging on to my old dreamer self wasn't going to help me reach my dreams and leaving it totally behind would leave me without any motivation for the future.

I try to approach my dreams in a more practical way, factoring in all the ugly pieces of reality, but I also make sure to put in a few stars and rainbows along the way. I'm learning to give my thoughts a chance at being a dream before shooting it down. I am learning to balance my past and my present as I try to figure out how I want my future to be. It hasn't been easy and I don't think it will be... but I guess that's growing up. 

STORY: Honeymoon Phase

I miss the honeymoon phase. You know, the first 3 to 4 months of a relationship where everything is just beautiful, and romantic, and peaceful, and shallow. I know that phase won't last forever, and I know that it should be that way, but when I see photos of these lovebirds in that stage of the relationship, I feel kind of envious that I'm done with it.

I'm not saying I don't like the familiarity, the comfort, the stability, or the depth of the later years of the relationship, but it does get too much sometimes... don't we have married life for that? (Kidding) 

Hayyyy, random thoughts triggered by random Facebook posts. Why do you keep doing this to me Facebook? 

STORY: Name Dropping

Oh my goodness, I can't believe I have just been insulted like that... by a stranger... on the phone!

Last Sunday, I was at the Mall of Asia. They have this area in the middle where they have booths for all the SMDC condominiums. I decided to get one flyer for the Jazz Residences since it's the one located in Makati. When I saw the flyer, it said that one unit is just 9,800 a month. I thought, "Uy, kaya." 

Of course, I was skeptical that it was just going to be 9,800 with all the additional charges hidden from flyers. So when I rolled my eyes towards the bottom of the flyer and I saw a number, I thought, 'Why not ask?" Out of curiosity, I contacted the number, since it did say "Call me, maybe" (as if that line wasn't used enough), a sign that the person was eager to hear from you. 

I texted that number asking how much the "real" price was. The guy responded a few minutes later. The unit ended up costing 15,000 a month and will be ready for occupancy by the end of 2014. I wasn't planning on getting a unit. I just wanted to ask around, for future reference, maybe, so I didn't reply. The guy texted again, asking for details about me. I didn't respond. 

Fast forward to late Monday afternoon, I get a call from a mysterious number. I pick it up since it may be an important call. When I answer, the first thing the guy from the other end says, "Kukuha po kayo condominium, diba?" I was a bit confused since I forgot about my inquiry yesterday. (I was already a little off by the guy's lack of greeting or introduction) It took me a question or two to remember who I was talking to and what the guy talking about. When I said that I got what was happening, he just went on and asked "How young are you?" Just straightforward, "How young are you?" without even briefing me what the information was going to be used for or if I would feel comfortable revealing such information. I answered, although hesitantly. 

He then asked, and I quote, "San kayo? San nagtratrabaho?" I answered, "Makati. Why? What is this for?" He ignored my question and continued asking, "San sa Makati? Ano position nyo?" I wasn't comfortable revealing this information to this guy, so I just answered, "along Ayala." He had two or three follow up questions about where I worked and what specific company I was in which I ignored. I thought he got the picture that I didn't feel like answering his questions but he just changed the questions! He went on to ask where I lived, and when I said Manila, he wanted the specific area! I was already pissed so I said firmly, "What is this for? Why are you asking me this?" He then replied, "Para alam po namin kung capable kayo for this. Is this your first investment?" 

The guy  seems to have thick skin since he doesn't realize how rude he is being. I told him, to shut him up, "You know, I will just call you when I'm interested in getting one already." I think the guy felt irritated that he wasted a few minutes of his time calling me, someone he thought he could get money out of, that is why he said, "Next time ho, pag mag-inquire kayo siguraduhin nyo may pang-invest kayo!" Then he dropped the phone. Just. Like. That. Not even a "thank you for your interest" or "thank you for your time." None. 

I think SMDC should put some attention on the people they hire to deal with their future customers... that is if customer satisfaction is their top concern. 

Anyway, people always say they do not like to stoop down to the level of the people who hate on them but I won't mind doing that now. So, Justin Mark Rubio, you said to call you and I did contact you and this is how you treat me. Well, the best of luck to you... not. 

Mean na kung mean.