stonyblue's Blurty Entries [entries|friends|calendar] stonyblue [ userinfo | blurty userinfo ] [ calendar | blurty calendar ]

[06 Feb 2005|09:24pm] [ mood | content ] [ music | Iris--Goo Goo dolls ] My roommate and I don’t talk much. We don’t share secrets, we don’t share interests, we don’t share gig nights. The only thing keeping us together is that we stay in the same room. It doesn’t mean though, that I don’t like her. In fact, I think she’s cool, and on another occasion we might even have become best pals. You see, she’s not a dramaqueen, and the gods know that I can’t stand being around dramaqueens. This afternoon, I went back to the flat to get my disc man adaptor. Roommate was alone in the house ironing her clothes. I asked her to play “sungka” (bantumi type of game, only better) with me. My constant sungka playmate is of course, my boyfriend—because he has no choice but to play with me. Anyway, roommate obliged, and my request of one game became five games because we were chatting at the same time. Her stories were hilarious. I found myself listening to her more than paying attention to our game. An hour after I was sorry to go back to work. It got me to thinking that if only I would take the time to really get to know people, I’d discover that I can make a friend in every circle I encounter. “If only.” But I’m not a naturally friendly person. It takes a whole lot of trust and sincerity in between to get me to trust people back. You see, I’m uncomfortable with mere acquaintances. I’d rather have friends. And I choose them with care. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a people-hater like some jokingly think I am. And yes, I am “takot sa tao” because I’m afraid of what people can do to me—physically, spiritually and emotionally. It takes awhile for me to warm up to people--a trait that, in my case, is more a liability than an asset. Let's put it this way. It's like going down from the stage and sitting in the orchestra and watching while the drama unfolds. Afterwards, standing up, going onstage and joining the play. Weird to do in a theater setup, but quite normal in real life. 5 comments|post comment

[16 Jan 2005|04:51am] [ mood | crappy ] Sometimes, you wish some things about yourself changed or were better when you find yourself looking at some people's friendster photos and profiles. Or when you read random blog entries, a fact strikes you and you become more miserable. After a long, tiring day, six hours after, I am still sitting in front of the computer pitying myself over what and who i can be only i'm too afraid to try. screw friendster. screw blogs. screw the internet. arg! i should surf more important sites than the trashy ones from now on. (yeah, yeah, who are you kidding, girl?) what a perfect way to end an otherwise nice day. *bumps head on the monitor* 5 comments|post comment

Window stocking [09 Dec 2004|12:43am] [ mood | cold ] [ music | Habang Natutulog--Joey Ayala ] I went home last night to a house i didn't recognize. My mother bought a console table she put by the door to accomodate scented candles, the PDI mini red tree Sandy Prieto gave all the employees, and a little golden rooster (keeper of rice and coins.) PLUS the house is fully decorated wonderfully. Too bad i'm not part of the decorating team this year coz i'm living my other identity in Makati and only go home to the real house once a week. Due to my drama queen tendencies (but i am not, nor do i intend to be teenage drama queen ok), the moment i got through the door, i started to cry. Not because of how nice the house looked but because I was depressed on another matter. But let's leave that for another entry. Anyway, i went around to inspect the other big thing my mother acquired--a 6-seater mahogany dining table--and just cried. Until I noticed the Christmas stockings hanging on the window--especially when I noticed them. As far as I can remember, there would always be 4 stockings by the window. One for each of us children, and to be sure, ma had put our names on it. When my sister went to Dubai, only three stockings were left to hang on Christmas. Then my brother left for Japan and two stockings were left. Until last year, I still had my stocking hanging by the window. Well, last night I found two up there, with names: Miggy and Christa. NOOOOO. They're my sister's children and their family will be spending Christmas with us. I know I'm 23 and all, but I AM NOT READY TO GIVE UP MY CHRISTMAS STOCKING! No I'm not. And I'm not the only one. My 16-year-old brother who hardly spoke at all complained to my mom as well. "Bakit ako walang mejas?" I raised the same question. Haha old people wanting to share the limelight. Hey, I like keeping tradition. and that stockings with our names on it is tradition. so until i have kids of my own, i'll be hanging my stocking up. My mother must have foreseen this happening, so she bought two new stockings as well. Para sa dalawang bunso na humabol lang sa karera. Eight days past December and only last night did I feel that it's Christmas. 1 comment|post comment

of what-ifs and what might have beens [16 Nov 2004|11:19pm] [ mood | sleepy ] i watched 8 episodes of season 4 of "Friends" last night. slept at around 2am and woke up from a really weird dream. my ex-future-i-thought-you'd-be-my-first-boyfriend-but-you-don't-have-the-balls-to-tell-me-you-loved-me-years-ago-and-why-do-i-think-you're-still-in-love-with-me-that's-why-you-don't-reply-to-my-messages-boyfriend got married. i was one of the bridesmaids, i think. his bestfriend who just recently got married in real life was there, flown in from US with american companions, and some PDI people were invited as well (i don't know why, you haven't even met my friends yet, but dreams are weird like that). of course dylan was there as my date. the dream seemed so real. so was my determination to break the marrying couple apart. he didn't seem to want to notice i was there (even though i was one of the bridesmaids), and the bride looked awfully familiar. if i can remember it well, she's the girl i had been jealous of in highschool coz they were too close. anyway, the only funny thing that happened in that dream is that when i saw his bride almost face to face, i noticed she was wearing tangerine bras and undies. hahahahaha. underneath her cream gown. how fashionable. harhar. well, i got affected by that dream that i had to tell him about it through text the moment i woke up. of course he didn't reply, what did i expect! i haven't had a dream about him in months, why is he coming back again?? back then i've always thought and believed he'd be my first boyfriend. i even went far as knowing that i'll be marrying him. ha! with the way things are now, he doesn't even want to acknowledge that i exist. well, i have a boyfriend now. and so far i know i'm happy. and by posting this i don't know if i'm being unfaithful or what. but sometimes i do think about the guy that should have been. and i can't help but wonder what might have been. sing with me now. harhar. 1 comment|post comment

[13 Oct 2004|02:25pm] [ mood | determined ] [ music | We can work it out -- Beatles ] the badminton tournament is screwing my schedule. for two scheduled wash days, i've been doing my own laundry at the other house so i can go home and not worry about not having anything to wear for the rest of the week. because we now have 7am practices at The Zone, i have to either go back to the other house in the evening of my off so i can make it at 7am the next day to the court, or i would stay at the flat tuesday night for the practice the next day and go home afterwards. either way, my laundry sched is screwed and my hands are already bleeding and rough. last saturday's game was a bit disappointing. first set was a sad case of nerves leading us to a satisfactory but disappointing 15-8 score in favor of the Cyan team. the second set was a good one with 15-2 in our favor. this score even depressed us because we realized we could have easily beaten them at the first set but we chose to be overwhelmed by our nerves. what sucks in next week's game is having to play opposite your almost seatmates at the office--and my housemates at that. gee. plus the fact that one of them, even being a newbie at the sport, loves dropping shots at opposite ends of the net. and her stride is bigger than mine. geezus. anyway, erase thoughts of friendship. we mean to play a no-mercy kind of game because our team, as of this moment, is the fourth in the standings. there are only 4 teams. mr teddy bear editor/friend/slave/mascot even bribed this 'drop-shotter' friend with bottomless starbucks coffee frap to allow us a 15-0 score in our favor. haha. is the game getting dirtier? badminton suckers some of us are. as badluck would have it, our captain has sore eyes. yup, the team magenta's captain is so bent on winning that even his eyes became magenta. harhar. 3 comments|post comment

Post-birthday post [29 Sep 2004|12:01am] [ mood | pleased ] [ music | Driving--EBTG ] Sept. 18--Saturday night had me lugging in a big container of special dinuguan for my officemates, and three containers full of puto needless to say, i fed a lot of people that saturday afteroon. the news editor even pitched in 4 half-gallon cans of icecream. i went to the flat to give rai's share of the feast, and found a cute little mr tigger on my bed holding an eraserheads anthology cd to his chest. awww. dear dylan. he bought mr tigger. now i have tigger stuff all over. =) after work, dylan and i went to saguijo to watch an admit one show. he was waiting for Urban dub to play but it was already past 2am and they hadn't played yet so we decided to leave. Sept. 19--I went on birthday leave. Dylan and I spent my birthday scouring the streets of Quiapo for DVDs and 'tax-free' portable cd players. Then we headed for Dapitan to look for furniture for the new house and some stuff for Christmas. I was able to get a hand woven cloth made by some tribe in the North bargain at P300. It was originally tagged at P350. The storekeeper (seeing as how i looked like a 'katutubo' that day, what with my ethnic tank top, to my ethnic wallet, down to my indian mules) decided to show us some more cloths of hand woven material as well which were more beautiful but were tagged at P600. I told him we'd go back in December for those. Afterwards we went to the royal and pontifical University of Santo Tomas to snack and discovered that my barkada's Mr. Donut tambayan relocated to a small stand, and Tapsi had closed down, as well as the other establishments. too bad. we ended up sharing a big cup of iced tea, biggie fries and frosty--we were already broke. next stop was the Church. we got in 30 minutes early. then the text messages started to come in. first there was this texter who claimed she was cynthia alexander (i sent her a hu u message). turned out it was really THE cynthia alexander. i couldn't believe it. a few minutes after another message--louie talan. c'mon. you have got to be kidding me. i couldn't keep still at this time, but i couldn't squeal coz we were already in the Church. imagine my self control. my god uses smileys. how cute is that? Razorback bassist uses smileys in his text messages! kewl. cute. i love him even more. it was after an hour when sancho texted in his birthday greeting. sancho's nice. real nice. too bad he looks like an officemate so i can't crush on him (the officemate is rumored to be gay even after marriage. haha. and not really as nice as sancho. still, don't want to be reminded of mr officemate when i think of sancho, but sometimes i can't help but be reminded. bummer). the angel (half-devil, ankh-wearing, lourd-not-quite-an-ex-stalker, cat-loving, hot coffee and yosi freak) turned out to be ex_groupie. still wouldn't tell me how she got the 3's numbers. it was her 'priceless' birthday gift. asteeg. Sept. 20--around 9pm i got an anonymous message--"something for you on editor's swivel chair." so curious me went over to the chair and there lay a gift the girls prepared with notes of wishes for a good career and praise for my ninang's famous dinuguan. wow. i wasn't really expecting much on my birthday. but it turned out real nice. 3 comments|post comment

hehehe [28 Sep 2004|11:42pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | San Miguel Oktoberfest jingle ] What kind of villian would you be? LJ Username Gender MaleFemale Favorite color Do you root for good, or for awesome? GoodEvilAwesome! Duh, why do you think I'm taking a villian quiz? Your trusted second in command Your arch nemesis, aka; Evil appearance In long, flowing robes, you are both intimidating and damn good looking. What you;ve done so far You got to where you are to cool way. You spent a good chunk of your life helping people, being good, wise, and kind. All of this was simply to get the fools to trust you. heh heh heh... Your evil powers/skills You are invincible! Chances of taking over/destroying world - 66% This quiz by tea_chan - Taken 46188 Times. New - How do you get a guy to like you? post comment

my unsuccessful friendly relationship with gay guys [12 Sep 2004|10:01pm] [ mood | disappointed ] I never was able to sustain a friendship with a gay guy. In fact, I don’t have a close gay friend and that just sucks. Since high school I’ve always wanted to hang out and be bestfriends with a gay guy. The ones I know are really funny and smart and most of all loyal to their girl pals. I don’t know. Maybe they don’t find me gay enough to be part of their circle. And while I hopelessly pine for a gay friend, and manage to get close to one, along the way I lose them—or they lose me. Maybe they find me too uptight and/or boring to enjoy my company. Either way it’s depressing. Makes me think I’m no fun. Oh well. Maybe I am. The thing is---I WANT A GAY GUY CLOSE FRIEND WITH CHERRY ON TOP AND CHOCOLATE SYRUP ON THE SIDE!!! *** Dylan asked me to go to Baguio with him on November. Whee!!! I was actually surprised when he told me this afternoon. He said he’d contact his relatives there so we’d have a place to stay. Hmm… should I be afraid of this trip? *** I joined our company’s badminton tournament. Who would have thought I would? I’ve always cowered from sports, much more tournaments. I’ve always seen it as a venue for major embarrassment. I see it that way til now. I hope this tournament proves me wrong. But what the heck, it’s just a game. I’m gonna focus on having fun. It’s about time I interact with the people from the world downstairs and loosen up a bit . 3 comments|post comment

true true, media did this to me--haha! [05 Sep 2004|10:27pm] [ mood | pi ] You're Compassion Fatigue! by Susan Moeller You used to care, but now it's just getting too difficult. You cared about the plight of people in lands near and far, but now the media has bombarded you with images of suffering to the point that you just don't have the energy to go on. You've become cold and heartless, as though you'd lived in New York City for a year or so. But you stand as a serious example to all others that they should turn off their TV sets and start caring again. Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid. 1 comment|post comment

[30 Aug 2004|10:04pm] [ mood | excited ] [ music | My Girl--Carrot top guy from AI ] The best part about looking for a place to live is having an excuse to enter other people’s houses and being able to look around. On ordinary circumstances, you’d be lucky if you even get past their gates. For two weeks now I’ve been knocking on doors, inquiring about bedspace and rooms for rent. For two weeks I’ve argued with my mom and been the subject of her cold treatment. For two weeks I’ve been caught in endless arguments with my boyfriend about my hopeless situation of wanting to live independently but having to be choosy about it. My stubbornness led me back to square one. I was almost resigned to going home again every day. The other night, after two weeks of desperation and sleepless nights (I was already having weird dreams about dorms and houses), my flatmates and I did a mature thing—talked. We agreed to continue living together but this time in a bigger house—with bigger rules and bigger responsibilities. We saw the prospective place yesterday afternoon and we fell in love with it. Now, we have space—too much space that we don’t know what to do with some corners of the house. Well, at least we can get away from each other. I plan to buy a divider to have a feel of my own corner in the room upstairs. Arrangements would still have to be made among us about whose gonna sleep with whom. I might still find myself sleeping in the small room, depending on how arrangements turn out. I told my mom about it and she seemed relieved. She wouldn’t have to talk me out of going home every night. I wouldn’t have to fight it out with her to keep my uncertain independence. Oh, and for one whole beautiful week, Dylan and I didn’t fight. About the flat, about my life, about my twisted complications. I’m going to be a year older in twenty bloody days. Shit. 13 comments|post comment

[15 Aug 2004|10:04pm] [ mood | annoyed ] Only in yesterday’s get together did I realize how bitchy she really was and how self centered. My girl friends gathered yesterday in morphed’s house for a long over due get together. Dylan and I have been talking about facing them and this was the perfect opportunity for that. No sense in keeping mum anymore since we are officially a couple already. So we went, and imagine my surprise for bianca’s cold treatment. The moment I arrived I gave everyone a buzz on the cheek and unaffectedly said hello to her. I was in the act of kissing her as well when I felt the tension between us. Not that I was expecting us to be okay, but I felt that I was going to have a bad night. After meeting my godson inside the house, I went outside to join the girls in a conversation that was dominated by her. I could only sit and listen. Frankly, I wasn’t interested in what she was saying—they were senseless attempts to hog the conversation. So fine, I smoked, I drank, I didn’t talk. That was pretty normal for me. I had always been the listener in the group. I had always been an audience and that was fine. Then morphed talked to me about the situation between bianca and me. Apparently, bianca hadn’t wanted to come to the get together because she didn’t want to see me. She was still nursing some hurt from what I allegedly did to her—or was it nursing a wounded pride? She even had the audacity to say that after how she treated me like a daughter, I would turn to her like this. What the fuck was that? Has she forgotten her contribution to the story? Or has she just totally lost her mind? Too much vanity and self praise seemed to have clouded her big head, making her forget that she has her faults too. She told morphed that she wouldn’t talk to me, but if I talk to her, she will. Somebody’s trapped in her superiority complex again—and using it in the wrong way. What a bitch. I have no reason to remove myself from my position. I owe her nothing, because she has hurt me as well. and if she expects me to say sorry, well, I’m not the meek little girl anymore. Don’t mistake this for want of an apology from her. I don’t and I’m not expecting one. For me, I’ve already let it pass. The last argument was a petty matter and I haven’t been losing sleep over it—because it’s a small thing to argue about. I can face her squarely in the eye and talk on the same level. I’m not gonna fold, oh no, not this time. She treated me coldly last night, and if that’s what she’s asking for, well I can give her back the same coldness she has showed me. I don’t expect us to go back to how close we were in college. And the issue here is not about the guy. They’ve broken up two years already. We’ve only been officially together for less than a month. I am not picking up a fight with her because there is nothing to fight about. She’s seeing devils in her head and that’s her problem, not mine. All I know is I’m okay and I’m happy, and I love myself even more now, and I have problems of greater importance to attend to than worrying over her paranoia and self-centeredness. There’s one important thing that I realized from last night though—she’s more affected and more bitter than me, more than I thought she really was. What a pity. *** I’ve always loved hanging out with morphed. Of all the girls, I consider her the person I trust the most, and would entrust my life to. I love her even more now than ever. She will forever have a good friend in me, that I write in stone. 5 comments|post comment

Meeting Kim [03 Aug 2004|10:19pm] [ mood | amused ] I have looked up to her all my life, singing along with my sister’s original London cast Miss Saigon soundtrack, and imagining myself in her shoes and on stage doing my own version of “Kim.” Today at lunch at a Greenbelt resto, I met her at last. The lady, the voice, the person I wanted to become when I was a kid. She’s the reason I seriously considered shifting to Theater Arts in UP five years ago. Yes, I sound like a crazy fanatic here, but I’m just so overwhelmed about meeting Lea Salonga—at last. These are the perks of working for a newspaper. You get to meet and actually talk to people whom you thought were minor* gods and goddesses. In all the years I’ve been following her on TV, on snippets of scenes I could get to watch because I could not afford to watch her on stage, it’s strange that I have never owned a single CD of hers. I’ve only watched her for the first time in a concert last September 2003. And now this. To actually sit with her at the same table—gosh. Okay, I really do sound like a stalker now (of course I’m not. Only of Louie T.’s.) I was bent on stretching my remaining 1 grand til next payday. Now I only have 500 bucks to make do with because I rushed to Music One to buy me her “By Heart” album. Just so she can have something to sign on. Hey, when will I meet her again? I had to grab this chance! Anyway, so there. For sitting and gawking at her, I actually got a Bayo goody bag in return. teehee! Too many good things happening to me lately. But no word of another assignment from the good Entertainment ed. That’s ok. at least I get this Thursday as normal house-to-office workday. Minsan nga lang, pag nasanay ka na, hahanap-hanapin mo din pala. That’s a good thing right? What’s not is getting your article buried underneath the section’s basket. Oh well. You can’t have it all. 4 comments|post comment

[22 Jul 2004|10:06pm] [ mood | frantic ] As a writer cum aspiring reporter, I committed my first major mistake yesterday in an article that was published, and was noticed by people who bothered to read, and critics disguised as co-writers. The subject of that write up was no less than the soap opera princess of a network giant (which isn’t so gigantic after all). The most embarrassing thing was facing the same co-writers who were with me in the presscon. This afternoon, I felt my skin grow an inch thicker. I realized you have to have more than guts if you wanna become a reporter. Another frustrating moment was interviewing Jolo Revilla. I think the hardest persons to interview are young and really old people. Both would answer your questions, period. No elaboration. And sometimes, full of ellipses. It’s that bad. Also I found out how an article can affect and aggravate a problematic family’s life. of course I’m talking about celebrity families who think the people aka masa live and breathe their lives. Gee. The only good thing that will happen today is probably Cynthia Alexander’s gig tonight. Sheesh. 2 comments|post comment

unexpected turn of events [18 Jul 2004|08:49pm] [ mood | sleepy ] So many things happened over the week. Last Thursday, I met Mike Francis. It was an inclusive interview, and I, for a change, was the official photographer. Business section’s desk editor Tina Dumlao invited me to join her. I had to ditch my presscon on John Lloyd and Bea Alonzo to make way for the legend. So with face growing thicker inch by inch, I went to the Entertainment editor to beg off on that day’s interview to meet Francesko Puccioni. And there, in Shangri-la Makati’s 2nd floor lobby, an editor and an EA became happy girls, chatting away with the guy who dared to ask the ’80s crowd to let him in. We even got to smoke with him downstairs and that extended our 20-minute interview. I still can not believe I’m meeting all these people whose CDs I only get to buy at Tower records. This is one of the advantages of working for a newspaper. Ms Tina’s article by the way, got published today, and you will see the infamous photo by yours truly. It’s not really much, but I’m proud of it. This is a frustrated photographer speaking here. Hehe. *** It finally happened last night. I finally said “Yes” to Dylan. We are now officially a couple. It’s funny, I may truly be a sick and stupid person for saying yes to him when we’ve been quarreling for a week now. I was actually crying last night at the flat with footprintinblue’s boyfriend just watching TV in the other room. I thought the heavens were going against my decision. But stubborn me just had to have my way. Yes, I am as stubborn as Dylan is, maybe even more. I only hope I would not regret the decision I made last night. I’m still at a loss for beautiful words to describe the feeling. I only know I’m glad it finally happened. *** I also watched Radioactive Sago’s gig last night at Saguijo’s with Dylan, his three cousins and ex_groupie. I can not believe Lourd actually remembered me. ex_groupie was one very happy girl last night. We were able to talk to Lourd several times. I’m glad she’s okay with him already. He’s a cool guy. He has a new fan in me. *** I’ll be moving out of the flat. I haven’t talked to the girls about it yet but some may already read this entry. Footprintinblue and rai are scouting for a place as well. I already found a possible room mate who’s not from the office. She’s a friend of quinnzap’s. and I hope we get along fine. Being quinnzap’s friend, I’m sure she’s as nice as he is. And besides our schedules don’t exactly match so there’s no trouble of getting on each other’s nerves after a few months. My long time friend, Jenny, might also rent with me. She’s not sure yet though. *** I’m glad of the trust that the Entertainment ed is putting in me. And I’m thankful for the assignments he gives me. I am in a small way living the life of an underground reporter, and I like it. Although I still have my doubts, and I’m still afraid, I’ll just let the tide take me as far as I can go. *** Lastly, thank you very much ex_groupie. You’re a good friend. I’m glad I met you. we should’ve been friends in college. I love you girl. = ) 5 comments|post comment

[11 Jul 2004|03:39pm] [ mood | contemplative ] [ music | Features of Love--Mike Francis ] I met my mom for lunch today. And I talked to her about the one thing that I’ve been wanting to talk to her about. She didn’t react violently as expected. But all the same her response will lead me to evaluate things again. For some days now I’ve been thinking about lying low for awhile and doing some thinking on my own. I might make the biggest decision of my life in a few days or months. I’m still hoping for a miracle to happen to stop me from doing what I think might be best for me and the people involved. Now I’m beginning to understand what growing up means. Whatever happens, I hope nothing and nobody will fall into self destruction. 6 comments|post comment

[21 Jun 2004|10:09pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | Linger--Cranberries ] My first Fete de la Musique had the stage caving in on Radioactive Sago’s Lourd de Veyra and his brother, and the people getting soaked in the rain. That included me who had the nerve to wear a pleated light blue mini skirt, and white Roman slippers. The rain had been teasing the world music crowd from the time Butong Pakwan played. It stopped at Sing India’s 20-minute slot, and Kabangyan’s ethnic performance. It held back as the crowd jammed with Cynthia Alexander and Makiling Ensemble. Then came Radioactive’s turn. ‘Twas the first time I got to watch them. A slight drizzle warned us to seek shelter in the middle of “Astro Cigarette.” But the people didn’t care. I even saw a grandma in front of me clapping as Lourd performed with the band. Then big droplets of water fell while they sang “Baboy.” The people ran to the stage to join the band and started jumping around, and “Baboy” continued playing until the tent caved in—on the band and the people. As festive as the Fete opened at the World Music stage, it closed there with a big bang—or at least with a big waterfall. The other outdoor bands stopped playing after that, I heard. There were so many good bands who weren’t able to play. I think the Fete was a failure this year. The organizers didn’t prepare well enough, or even anticipated the weather. June after all, is the start of the rainy season. They could have prevented the accident on the stage. I heard Lourd had a slight head injury, and his brother got hit on the shoulder. Equipment was also damaged. That could’ve been avoided if the tent was supported well enough with more metal bars underneath the thick plastic roof. As always Louie T. played and looked like a god. And Cynthia never fails to disappoint her crowd. With beer in hand I was jumping, swaying and waving my hand, singing along with everyone. Her performances are always euphoric. I wanted to catch Pinikpikan and Loquy too but the latter wasn’t able to perform anymore. Pinikpikan on the other hand played at Amoeba. Too bad coz I was already about to sleep when ex_groupie texted me that the band was still able to play. It wasn’t what I expected my first Fete would be. but I enjoyed it. Here’s to looking forward to next year’s. I would most definitely be there—and I’m definitely not wearing skirt in that event again . 5 comments|post comment

when depression takes over... [15 Jun 2004|11:20pm] [ mood | blank ] [ music | Baboy--Radioactive Sago Project ] Once in a while, you find yourself looking around you and realize you have not moved from the spot where you thought you'd grow. You realize you've changed, but it's not in the way you hoped you would, and you regret having gone that way or letting the other opportunities pass. You realize that while everyone has taken steps to their goals, you are left waiting for a miracle to happen in your cocoon. And you don't dare take the first step to advancement because you think you're not good enough. And while these happen, all the other aspects of your life seem to be messing up as well. There comes a time when you realize you only have two real friends who can either talk some sense into you, or accompany you in a drinking bout. And then you start to look back and wonder where the other people went, and why the "sisters forever" promise seems so superficial now. Worst of all you realize that you start to tire from fighting because it seems there's no use in doing so, and all you can do is weep and keep to yourself. post comment

What guys should know about girls like me [13 Jun 2004|09:42pm] [ mood | pensive ] [ music | Manila Girl--Put3ska ] Like all girls, I yearn for romance, to be treated like a queen, to be spoiled rotten like an heiress, to be looked upon like no other woman exists in the world. I don’t yearn for a sappy, too-good-to-be-true prince, but a simple man who knows what truly pleases a woman without making her feel useless. I long for interesting conversation, but I also want to be listened to even when my qualms are as petty as what CD I should’ve bought, or what cut my skirt should’ve been. I long to be treated as an independent woman, but sometimes, we women appreciate gentlemen who make sure that their companion has alighted from a cab or jeep safely. I long for sweet nothings and tiny compliments that suddenly spring from nowhere in a serious conversation. I long for the simple gesture of squeezing my hand when a familiar song suddenly plays from somewhere. Or maybe a hug of appreciation once in a while. Jokes and banter can result in laughter but sometimes too much can make me feel like I’m merely a buddy. Flowers always make girls feel special. Telephone calls always lights up a day. Even text messages assuring me that I’m being thought of are greatly acknowledged. Most of all, respect begets respect. I am entitled to voice out my thoughts and opinions—in whole sentences. I hate being cut off. I tend to lose my momentum and train of thought. And I like eye contact. I hate wandering eyes. It makes me feel I’m only being half-listened to. I have simple demands really. Basic courtesy. Respect. Companionship. Appreciation. 2 comments|post comment

[09 Jun 2004|04:20pm] [ mood | cheerful ] [ music | You'll see--Madonna ] I figured, after the disturbing dylan entry i wrote days ago, there was no follow up as to what happened next (not that a lot of people would be interested). it would be confusing that after that entry, there followed another one about a blurty EB with Dylan in it. okay, he officially started courting me last friday. i did tell him what was really bothering me, and he explained, and now we're ok. (amibilis kong mabola. pakshet). so there. can't write anything romantic about it. oh, my mind's flying elsewhere. to the upcoming Fete de la Musique on the 19th! yey! i even filed for leave on that day. yahoo! cynthia, loquy and pinikpikan here we come!!! and radioactivesago too (the band not the person ok? baka may magselos. hehe). 6 comments|post comment

The June 5 EB [06 Jun 2004|04:57pm] [ mood | amused ] [ music | I can’t tell you why--Sonia ] Our supposed Greenbelt-then-party-at-Malate EB last night, ended better than planned. Though it didn’t turn out the way I thought it would be, I still had a good time. And Dylan did too. It started with Dante and Jade meeting at Seattle’s Best at past 8pm. Come 10:20, they are still the two people in Seattle’s Best. eaxea and jenlikewhoa were going to watch HP3, so with a brief meeting with them at Food Choices, the four of us (Dante, Jade, MC and me), sat ourselves on one of the tables and proceeded criticizing the “interesting” people that would pass by us. The couple of guys by the big screen which brought about a debate of whether it was their first meeting or whether they’ve known each other for a long time. The girl who wore a cookie monster shirt who was followed by Dante so he could see the shirt too. The guy who had the big biceps and chest who mistook his jacket for a shawl. We were all bored to death and wondering what would be next when Food Choices closed. We were also broke. Seen on the table is Dante’s Coke, Jade’s spicy sampalok, MC’s chicharon and my green peas. After that we decided to see my officemates at Coffee Bean, but there was no place for four more people so we decided to go to 7-eleven, buy us cheap canned beers and drink by the fountain. At the last minute somebody came up with the idea to hang out at Dante’s place instead. Everybody agreed. He has an old, but really beautiful and cozy house. With nine cats, harmless unseen entities, wall high pile of books and just the right amount of dust everywhere, MC and I wanted to stay—and live there. Seriously. It’s a wonderful place. Dante’s friend Paul, is very friendly, and a good cook too. The latter part of our stay there was spent talking with him—about music, stand up comedies, cats, dogs, chili con carne, beans, drinking, throwing up, and stuff—while Jade and Dante surfed the net. We called it a night a few minutes after Paul retired to bed—at 4 a.m. I could barely keep my eyes open. This morning, MC and I were still talking about it. We both fell in love with the house. And contrary to MC’s doubt about enjoying the EB, he told me I was right. And he did enjoy the night, and Jade’s Dante’s and Paul’s company. Without calling it another Blurty EB, I would like that night to become a regular thing. That is if the others agree. 6 comments|post comment

navigation [ viewing | 20 entries back ] [ go | earlier/later ]