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.

The Best Incident Of My 2007.*

There were only five minutes left before 10 o’clock when I squinted at the numbers on my phone’s clock.  I was running late for work!  Moments later, the bus I was riding reached EDSA Ortigas.  I jumped out of it and started practicing my brisk walking techniques I learned in college (as I always left my apartment exactly the time my classes started) until I got to the steps of pedestrian overpass.

Realizing I still had 15 minutes before office could declare me a sluggish employee, I decided to forget the time pressure and relaxed a bit; wishing my calculation of distance and time between Megamall and our building fits well in real life.  And besides, there was a cute guy ahead of me whom I didn’t want to lose sight of.  Thought I could be a stalker for one morning.  So, I enjoyed the walk, with music through my headset, while I was crossing overpass. I also played random things in my imagination and even came up with a hypothetical notion, what if, in some unexplainable earthly manner, you slip in front of people who are unknown to you? That’s barely possible, I thought, answering my own question. I continued walking and entertained other things in my head, including the guy ahead.

I then reached the other end of overpass and descended the stairs along with hundreds of people, who maybe were just as late as I was.  I used my legs’ muscles no differently when I descend any other staircase.  But roughly six steps away from the level ground, I shook hands with mr. gravity.  My body suddenly refused the standard vertical position and landed on my butt.  OMG, I stumbled!  At a public place!  In smart casual clothing!  At that time of the day… when the sun reigns powerfully in the sky!

For a second or so, people kept on running down while I am still in an uncomfortable position. They didn’t seem to pour attention on me, though I know they were seriously biting their tongues to not let a single laugh escape their mouths.  In next to no time, I got up with ruffled dignity. 

As I continued walking to office, I felt amusingly funny; that is, of course, while my body was exploding adrenaline.  I was feeling funny more than ashamed.  To make me be in a normal mood again, I groped my phone in my pocket and changed the music I was listening to. I scanned the track list and played Nothing in This World.  It was alleviating, a bit. Wasn’t my fave song, but its feel-good tune helped.  I yet craved for more comfort.  So, I ran to 7/11 and bought myself a Big Uhaw of Mountain Dew with lots of ice.  I arrived at the office even before the music ended.  I was late, but I didn’t mind.  I put down my things and ran straight to my officemate’s cubicle and narrated to her the hilarious experience.

 

  -–> I cleaned my face with oil control film just before I started my work that day and wasn’t surprised with the result.

And oh, the guy aforementioned?  I lost him.  Obviously.

 * Took place on Aug 13, 2007, Monday.

I Am An Idealist.

Out of purposelessness this one lazy Saturday midnight, I just decided to surf the internet and visited a number of my friends’ blogsites.  In one blog, I saw a link of a personality test site, which I clicked out of curiosity.  In that test site, I saw a list of outrageous personality tests like what’s your pizza personality, how much is your life worth, what does your favorite color say about you, and what are the chances you’ve been abducted by an alien.  Anyway, found one that sort of stirred my interest, it’s called the three question personality test.  Obviously, the test only consists of three questions, which I answered frivolously.  In all fairness, the result truly says a lot about my personality, in one way or another.

Your Personality Is

Idealist (NF) You are a passionate, caring, and unique person. You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals. You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily. Your heart tends to rule you. You can’t make decisions without considering feelings. You seek out other empathetic people to befriend. Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships. In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily. At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career. With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone. As far as your looks go, you’ve likely taken the time to develop your own personal style. On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.

Although the last sentence is non-existent in my life, should I have the money, or had I born as Henry Sy’s daughter, I would really do charity work, particularly help orphanages.

On the other hand, I can say that paragraph two and six are the strongest descriptions. I’m sure if my close friends will read this, they’ll agree.

"Paris, First Class, International."

These are the inspiring words Donna (Gwyneth Paltrow) recites many times in the movie View From the Top, as she’s trying to get into the company of Royalty Airlines, the best of such, as a flight attendant.  I watched this film the other day when I was too lazy to get out of my room and iron my clothes.  But, I’m not going to write about the movie, because to tell you the truth, there’s actually nothing in there. View From the Top is just one of those chick flicks that try to flatter the heart of every girl who watches it.  It’s not even a “good” movie.  For whatever criteria a person has in rating a movie, I’m sure this film won’t even pass as good.  What the heck, I thought I’m not going to write about the movie?!  Anyhow, I am all about the flight attendant thingy.
 

In fact, a year ago, I gave it a shot.  But just when I was about to start taking steps, reality bit me in the ass.  Actually, it was more of “it bit me then it kicked me, and then it left me bruised out in a field.”  (Oh, that might be too exaggerated, so let’s just consider using the “reality bit me in the ass” phrase again, ok?)  My set of teeth is far from the “pearly, shiny, white” ones that you see on commercials; my legs and elbows are like a museum of scars, which I got from outdoor games and sports that I enjoyed in my childhood and teenage years; and my eyes have these horrendous bags which make me look like I haven’t slept for 25 years when I’ve only been living for almost 22 years.  To make the long boring story short, it was out of my league, therefore I got rejected. Ouch!
 
Honestly, I thought that dream will make me fly, but then it made me fell on rock solid ground (head first) because it almost shattered my confidence.  Almost, however, it didn’t.  I’m thankful that it didn’t.  I guess it’s time to pick a new dream.  …Hmm, what do you think about another woman taking over our country’s presidency?

Toink!

The first day of the new year is about to end. It’s currently 11:52 in the evening and here I am, in front of a blank white screen, untangling my thoughts, trying to come up with something that I could use as New Year’s resolution or a year-ender note perhaps. I opened a new document in my MS Word only to learn that I have nothing to say, or maybe I’m just not in the mood to express what’s in me. Hmm, this is not good. It’s the first day of the year and I’m far from being perky and expressive, I’ve been like this the whole day. Bad, bad, bad. Oh well, I’ll sleep on it and hope in the next few days I’ll have my thoughts straighten out.
 

So basically, I just posted a sheer folly on the first day of 2008. Great start Janina, great start.

Sink Or Swim.

I don’t know if this is a quarter life crisis or whatever, though I am deeply hoping that this is not.  But then, I don’t have a single idea of what quarter life crisis is like, so I guess I don’t even have to hope in the first place.

I’m starting to feel upset, depressed, sad, melancholic (or any other similar adjectives that you can insert here) about me being a bum.  Don’t get me wrong, I do not hate my life.  I just feel a little unhappy because after almost two months of wallowing in my limbo, I still don’t know what field I want and should get into for my next job.  I feel like I am at my wits’ end on this when I shouldn’t be, because this is me and I must be the most knowledgeable person about my wants, my life!  It could be the start of my long-term career and I am still unsure of what path to take.  I’m so afraid to land again on some job that won’t fit me. 

This is no easy phase for me;  being at sea, not knowing when I’ll be off it.  Good thing I had swimming lessons when I was eight.  Still can manage to float until some things in me  are better.

=(

"Arf! Arf! Arf!"

I wonder how blissful ignorance can be. 

While I was still working, after doing all the things I could possibly do in a day, I stop for a moment, look for my dog, and watch him do the lord’s work.  All he knows is lie anywhere and sleep for the whole day—just that!  He doesn’t eat much, he doesn’t bark often.  (I bet he has only barked 20 times for his damned life.)  Basically, his everyday goal is to be a trash on the floor.  And no, he is not sick.  He has been like that ever since we got him.  

I used to ponder on how he thinks and feels toward life, toward his.  Does he feel completely happy with how he spends his day?  Or does he want more to his life than just lie around?  Because if you get see him, he really seems fully contented.

Now, being off from the corporate world, I realized, I have become my own dog.  I am the one to throw those questions at.  I wake up everyday most likely goal-less, spend my day just ‘cause.  Worse, I am not doing anything yet to pass through this limbo.  Would you consider me lazy?  I don’t want to know.
 
Okay, my dog and I may have the same lives.  We both love to roll ourselves into a “relaxness”.  The only thing that makes me different from him is that I am not an ignorant fool.  And guess what?  That “only thing” blows every blissfulness off my life!  My conscience incessantly pricks me and tells me to make something good out of my days and out of my life, i.e. get a job, or else… [honestly, I don’t want to know the consequences myself, so let’s just leave this phrase hanging.] 

Well, I wish one day I will learn how blissful ignorance can be.  But then, I don’t want to be a dog, so just better forget about this random thought.

 =)

Somber Playground.

Yesterday, after over a month since I resigned from work, I went back to Intelligraph Corporation in Ortigas to receive my back pay.  I didn’t go there alone, I was with May. (Apart from being a college friend, she is also my former officemate.  She resigned a month earlier than I did.)  

When we got into the office, I noticed that the atmosphere has changed… totally!  From a jovial energetic playground, it has evolved into… a workplace.  Just a workplace.  Or even worse.  I don’t know.  I can’t really tell since I stayed there—and was only able to look around—for about 20 minutes or so.  All I know is that among the evident changes I noticed in there are the decreasing number of workforce and the increasing number of empty cubicles.
 

You see, even before May and I left our respective jobs in Intelligraph, there are several regular employees who had already resigned, which most probably brought about a ripple effect on so many other employees.  (Why we quit, you may ask.  Let’s just say that there are numerous internal office problems, specifically, administrative ones.)  Now, with lesser staff and new faces, I find the office gloomy.  It’s as if everyone who is working in there is a robot.  I just find it funny and absurd that I felt outlandish in the place that was once a second home to me.

      Just a few of my cool ole work buddies.  Only three of the nine are left in the office.  

=)