Kiss Ass Write-up.

Tuesday night. 11:00pm. Through text:

Juju: Ja, busy ka? Pwede mo ba akong gawan ng write up for yearbook? (Pero syempre text format ang spelling namin ng lahat ng ito sa totoong buhay.)

Ja: Ha? Ngayon na? As in ngayon na? Di ko alam yun. Ako nga di sumali sa yearbook ng batch namin eh.

Juju: Kaya mo yan, 5-10 sentences lang. Isipin mo lang nagbablog ka. Please?

Ja: Ngayon na? As in? Kelan ang deadline nyan?

Juju: Bukas ng hapon. Hehe. (with U dot dot)

Ja: Ano?! Yung batchmates mo last month pa may write up, ikaw ngayon lang nagpapagawa??

Juju: Nawala sa isp ko, naging busy ako… Sige na, thanks!

Ja: Naging busy daw, naging busy sa pakikipag-date! Pasalamat ka mahal kita.

(Pero sa isip ko lang yun, di ko na nireply, maiiba pa ang usapan eh. Sayang pa sa load yun dahil di ako nag uunlimited. Eto talaga ang nireply ko…)

Ja: Tatry ko ha, pero kung may back up kang tao, kontakin mo na para pag di mo nagustuhan at pumalpak ako, may maipapasa ka pa.

Juju: Wala ng iba, si Meliauh, busy daw. Thank you! I owe you!

Ja: Ge, tatry ko. Try lang.  Alam mo pano ko magsulat ha, di seryoso, wag kang mag expect ng mala-shakespeare. 5-10 sentences lang?

Juju: 250 words nga yan, pero baka mapressure ka kasi. Haha. Super thank you!

Ja: Tangek ka.

Alas dos na!  Go Large nanaman eyebags ko nito. Pinost ko na sa multiply. At ito yun.

Dorcas Juliette Ramos 1987-2008 (hahahah!)

Not knowing when and not knowing how, everyone is constantly susceptible to having bad days; everyone but this young lady.  More often than not, Juju carries this effervescent kind of attitude, which stretches out to the fullest length outside her that warms the cockles of her family and friends’ hearts.  She is undeniably compelling.  It is like she emanates charm and felicity, blended in a ray directed toward everyone around her, while she, herself, lacks awareness of it.

Vivaciousness is not only the admired natural aspect in her, Juju is a responsible and dependable individual as well.  May it be maintaining excellent status in academics, doing her benevolent duties in the organization she belongs to, performing accompaniment to her cousins and friends on shopping days and gimmick nights, or just simply playing a mascot role to her niece and nephews, she never drags her heels. She could even keenly pass as the world’s next superhero; or, maybe of a minor sort.

For people who have not known her much yet, Juju’s semblance could make them perceive her as a person who has refined knowledge about the ways of the world.  It is what she is, indeed.  But close under her fine-looking appearance still lies a flimsy little girl who looks up to her loving mother, for courage and for love, to go on every single wage war in her life.

Through text ulit. Lunch time.

Juju: Nabasa ko na Ja. Thanks.

Ja: Pag may poblema feel free to edit or ireklamo mo sakin. You owe me your life.

Juju: Yey! Thank you thank you! I owe you coffee!

Ja: No, you owe me your life.

Tuesday ng hapon.

It is official. I am an ass-kisser. 

Insomiac Us.

It’s way past three in the morning and I feel like I’ve just eaten whole slabs of meat marinated in adrenaline sauce.  The hormone just kicks in, no matter how desperate I am to rest. Ugh!  I always want and try to rest before clock reads midnight, but my body just couldn’t curb its overwhelming energy. 

 
Often are the nights like this, since I was seven.  I think it’s genetic, because my maternal grandmother and my mother suffered and suffers from the same case.  Of course, there are also times when I fall asleep quicker than a drunken bastard due to work or shopping fatigue, but then again, nights such as that are not enough to restore my normal body clock and to wipe away my eyedrums, I mean, eyebags.

At least, unlike my maternal grandmother and my mother, I still don’t resort to taking sleeping pills.  I have my blogs and books to make my mind feel relaxed and then all ready to rest. 

Early From The Dance is the book I am currently reading.

Deep-freeze me.

Just finished downloading and listening to the latest single of Sugarfree.  I got to listen to the whole song for the first time, and I mean the first time, despite of its premiere on MTV and MYX for quite a few weeks now.  As usual, as I was listening to Sugarfree’s, my heart suddenly felt like an ice cube taken out of the freezer, strained in the palms of one’s hand, until it becomes useless water dropping on the floor, waiting to be evaporated by earth’s natural heat.  The heck, I could simply express it as “my heart was melting,” but of course, it was more than just melting.  Though it was something I am not really sure of.  Nangangawit is a happy song, a hopeful song, it is a loving song, a sweet song, and also a frustrated song.  What other words could I use better than melting?  Not in the mood to probe Mr. Webster right now, so please just excuse me for the lack of exact words.

 
Ebe once more has stretched a song beyond its proper limit.  He always does, in his own styles; and that is why I adore him.  I don’t think anyone could stir salitang kalye up to a great emotional intensity the way Ebe does in his songs.  The amount of intensity isn’t just in words, really, half of it is in his voice, tone, modulation, or whatever. Again, lack of right words, pardon me.

 
I just so love him dearly.  That is all what I really want to say.

“Hanggang kailan ko dadalhin aking lihim na pagtingin? Kung hindi mo pa alam, ewan ko na lang.” –song’s best line for me.

Takeshi’s Castle? Huh?

Got the game from Eliza.

Most of the songs fit, in fairness! Walang ek ek at pagchochurva.

RULES:
1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write that song name down no matter how silly it sounds!

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
brighter than sunshine   (aqualung)    --> o, may mas ookay pa kaya jan?

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
linger    (the cranberries)     --> nah, not really!

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Anino   (lucida, band in uplb)      --> haha, ikaw na ang ma-attract sa anino!

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
happily never after   (nicole scherzinger)   --> swak. kasi bum pa rin.

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
ikaw lamang   (silent sanctuary)       --> pamatay linya, ikaw ba yan?

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
until the end of time   (justin and beyonce)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
push   (matchbox20)    --> friends, am I pushy? haha.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
signal fire   (snow patrol)    –> ye, they really are my signal fire. naks!

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
gone   (justin timberlake)    --> haha, translation: ikaw ay lost madalas!

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
listen   (stonefree)    --> ..to me. you! you really should! haha, bitter?

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
from yesterday   (30 sec to mars)        –> nyak, di swak.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
because of you   (neyo)      –> nye. adik ba ako sa lalake?

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
misery business    (paramore)    --> hmm…

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
follow you down   (gin blossoms)       –> oh no! mom, dad, please don’t.

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
very special love   (lani misalucha)    –> ay, ayos, ayos, sakto ‘to for wedding!!!

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
magasin   (eraserheads)    –> haha! nakakaloka ito!!!

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
firewoman   (barbie almalbis)   –> ikaw na ang maghobby ng pagiging firewoman!

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
cry me a river   (justin timberlake)    –> okay okay, i’m a justin fan. madami akong songs niya talaga.

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
wrong impression   (natalie imbruglia)    --> huh?!

WHAT SONG WILL BE THE SUBJECT WHEN YOU REPOST?
takeshi’s castle   (kiko machine)   –> wow, bomalabs nito for title.

Steer Clear Of Something?

My friend is newly proclaimed single.  She was broken up with by her less than a year boyfriend.  Nothing quirky about it actually, it was just another men’s-way-of-breaking-up story.  It ended just the same way most men end their relationships, wherein certain lines—such as “it’s not you, it’s me,” and “I hope you’ll someday find that person who’s truly worthy of your love,”—were abused.  Not to mention, the relationship ended through languid exchange of text messages.  Men, men, men.  

 
They are pretty comfortable with text and with those lines, aren’t they?  Umm, is it because most men really do think of the same ways and same lines when trying to break up with somebody, or is it just most of them plainly have the same size of small balls?

For my newly-proclaimed-single friend’s ex-boyfriend, for my ex-boyfriends, for my best friend, and for other men who do similar ways mentioned above: for your information, us, women, are such fans of mushy, lame, chich-flick movies.  Yes we extremely are, but that doesn’t mean we buy those rotten lines!  I mean, come on!  Do better than than, be more rational than that!  Just please don’t give us that crap.

The Nearest Of My Near Death Experiences

I’m sure you’re aware that there are several women who don’t like to talk about their monthly period.  You know, those women who utter “napkin” and “do I have a stain?” in a very very soft voice, so soft that the person they are talking to would answer them “Huh? Come again?” with a straight bland face.  Anyhow, as I was mentioning, there are some women who don’t like to talk about their monthly period, and bloody hell, (pun intended) I am not one of them.

This past Saturday, my family and I were all revved up around 9am to head to Subic. We were meeting my maternal aunt and cousin, who live in Bataan, for a day of shopping and pig out at random Subic Freeport establishments.  Before we left our house, I already felt that I was about to have my period.  So I did my necessary monthly procedure, which includes 1.)bringing a napkin, aside from what I’m wearing, 2.)drinking pain reliever, and 3.)preparing for oh no, not another “near death experience!”

 
You see, I first had my period when I was 10. Yup yup! And since then, my life was never the same again.  Every red day is a “near-death experience” in the making because of the unfaltering loyalty of dysmenorrhea.  And due to this, every red day is drug-addiction day as well.  I sometimes drink small dosage of Medicol and other times would beg for a higher dosage of Ponstan.  I can’t really describe nor explain the kind and level of pain that dysmenorrhea brings me.  All I know is that the pain hurts my tummy area badly that it makes me sweat like a pig inside of an air-conditioned room, makes my stomach feel empty as if I didn’t eat for 2 days, and impairs my brain like I never slept for 72hours straight.

 
Back to the Subic story.  Even after I had ingested Medicol, the pain still persisted. Actually, it kept on getting worse.  By 11am we were already in Pampanga.  We had a stopover in a store of a gas station somewhere in the province where my family ate some broas and Nagaraya crackers while I was uttering my ferocious pain.  Around 11:30am, we were passing the town of Guagua.  I was lying in the backseat when my parents and brother noticed a hospital in sight and right there, they threw me the question, “O, may hospital, dadalin ka na?!”  I answered yes, without any hesitation.

 
I was in my most terrible dysmenorrhea condition. In roughly 144 times that I had my period, 120 of those were excruciating, this one is yet the worst.

 
I was weak I had to be in a wheelchair from car to emergency room.  Minutes after I checked in Pampanga Medical Specialists’ Hospital, a male nurse attended me and examined my blood pressure.  It was 90/60.  It was too low.  Um, I don’t really have an idea on BPs but by the way the nurse said it, I believe it’s not good.  He said it like “sobrang baba po.”  And he put that stress on “sobrang” like it was pretty bad, as bad as jogging pants paired with black leather shoes for an office-attire.  Minutes passed and another nurse attended me, injected me some (oh my goodness, what’s that weird medicine name again? oh stupid, just make use of google search! great, now I know it!) Tramadol.  It is another kind of pain reliever.  

 
About 15-20 minutes later, the pain was lessened and I was back in my perky mode.  So we then got back on the road before we all hurt our tummies for not eating lunch on time.  It was already 1pm when we reached Subic and I wasn’t feeling a tinge of hurt anymore.  The pain was gone just in time for a great lunch and ransack-shopping.  Now that’s what I’d like to consider sunshine after the rain.  Haha!

Kudos to U.P.!

My college friends, who I still constantly hang out with even after graduation, sent me a text message asking me to come to UP Diliman and witness with them the start of the long week celebration of our alma mater’s centennial.  I studied in UP Los Banos, not in Diliman nor in Manila, but the celebration applied to every UP campus, and every UP iskolar ng bayan was invited.  I was not in the mood to blend myself in a crowd, which I then had no idea how vast would be, so, I texted back an excuse, made my ambivalence obvious, and didn’t show up.  For the rest of that day, I sulked in front of the computer and forgot about the whole centennial craze.  Day after, posts in friendster, multiply, and blogsites contain pictures and stories about the celebration. 
 

There were good posts, actually, and good shots. 

Nice.  

I wasn’t there. 

Very nice. 

Umm, is this the part where I should push the rewind button?  Oh eff!  I forgot! There never was a rewind button existed.  Ever! 

 
I had nothing to do that day but chose not to go!  I was just in my little comfy home situated 40 minutes away from Diliman campus, then again, I chose not to go.  How lame was I?  Should I see a shrink now because of my unintelligeble decision?  Can someone prescribe me some medications, please?  It may seem like I’m making a big fuss out of it, but, I was really that upset, I am still that upset.  Now all I can do is just look at pictures on personal sites of friends (UP students and alumni) who were there. I stole a few to post here.

I know, the lights are not marvelous.  Low-budgeted, as usual.

I should have one as soon as possible.  And maybe after owning a commemorative plate I could save up for my own car!

UPLB’s bus banner

100 years of excellence and service. 

Acknowledgment: Thanks Ratet (my UP ADS sis) for providing photos for me to steal, which I unhesitatingly did.

YOU somehow GOT ME.

I am a self-confessed chick-flick addict.  And I hate being one.  What I hate most is that due to my addiction, I could find myself watching even the local films, starred by pathetic actors and guided by lame stories.  Just yesterday, I saw You Got Me playing in Cinema One.

I don’t like Toni Gonzaga.  I hate watching her while she overdoes (make that overdoes: mathematically raised to the 7th power) hosting in Pinoy Big Brother.  I hate Sam Milby.  I hate that there are rumors extensively spreading saying he is gay, and that he is Piolo’s lover.  I hate that I can’t help believing the rumors because it is simply just oh so true.  Let me not forget Zanjoe Marudo.  I hate him for trying too hard to be an actor when it is really in modeling where he fits.  I hate them all, but I had to watch the film.  It’s a local chick-flick, and I am a chick-flick addict, remember?

I’m sure you have already thought of it, that I liked the film.  Despite the predictable twists, the ordinary humors, and the “they tried hard enough” fight scenes, I honestly did like it.  The three main casts were good in their roles.  They were effortless; Toni as a policewoman, Sam as a geek torpe, and Zanjoe as a jologs pirated DVD vendor.  Also, Toni and Sam look good together, in all fairness.  But of course, I got to appreciate it only cause I saw it in cable.  If I spent more than a hundred bucks for that film in theaters, I would be ranting by now—big time!, just like how I was with One More Chance.

My Cosmetics 101.

In my room this afternoon, I sat on my vanity.  I watched myself on the mirror for less than a minute, and after staring at my face, I came to a realization that maybe it’s about time for me to learn wearing these commercialized colorful too-many-to-mention-chemicals, that vain girls rather call make-up.

I am turning 22 within a month, and the sad truth is… at this age, I don’t own any dashing make-up. Well, except for the basics—which by the way you might not consider make-up at all—like cheap loose powder, cheap blush on, and small cheap petroleum jelly (as lip balm).  Anyway, given my poor situation, I sneaked in my parents’ room and checked my mother’s cosmetics box.  Found a light brown concealer, a not-so-red red lipstick, and a palette of that eyelid thingy, which has six different shades of blue and six different shades of violet (exactly the shades that work well with my skin color; that is, according to the make-up artist I worked with at my grad pictorial.)
 

I came back in my room and began the application of commercialized colorful too-many-to-mention-chemicals.  After several minutes of trying to create an art on my own face, I was displeased with the outcome.  I looked visually repulsive.  I felt visually repulsive.  But, it’s totally fine with me.  It was just apparent that I absolutely have no talent on it, and it didn’t make me hate myself for that.  Besides, it’s not in my interest to wear cosmetics since I’m not the girly type; I’m more of the wash-and-wear kind of lady.  I just wanted to know, out of curiosity, what I will look like if I toy my face with different colors.  And now that I do, cosmetics 101 for myself shall be "if you don’t want to scare people, better stick with the cheap basic ones you’ve got."

Sorry Potpot…

I have the responsibility to groom our baby Potpot at least twice a week, but these past few days, I got too occupied and left him uncared-for. He had not taken a bath for more than a week, I think.  Didn’t seem to learn how dirty he was feeling though, until I found him yesterday morning…

…voluntarily submitting himself to be laundered along with some of our clothes. And he knew in which set he’d place himself, with the colored clothes! Smart boy!
 

Disclaimer: No animals were harmed (drowned and whirled inside the washing machine to be exact) during and after the incident.