sheicchi

The Neo PSR...

2006-08-10T20:14:00.000-07:00

I have a job and I kind of like it because it's way beyond the course that I am taking. I am really put to the test. Every call is still a challenge. I'm still swimming but I believe that I can keep my nose up to the surface. I cannot really please everybody but I'm doing my best. I love my job and I'm doing it for my family and myself. If I can make it through this job, then I can call myself a real techie! ^__^

Who’s your papsidudez?

2006-07-14T01:49:00.000-07:00

“Who’s your daddy?” It’s that phrase you can type on the message bar of that DotA single player game so you could slay Roshan in one hit. It’s also the question that kept on bothering me in the past few years. Who is really the one I call as Papsidudez a.k.a. dad? I mean what does he do?

I and my siblings don’t know what our dad does at his office. When asked he just says, “Just say I’m a government employee. It’s what I am.” So when we are also asked by our friends we don’t have a definite answer. We just kind of say, “Oh he’s a government employee who works in the airport.” Like the time when my little brother was asked of the same question and answered the same line. He got, “Oh so your dad is the one who’s driving the trolley that carries luggage from the terminal to the plane?” My little brother turned red and let his friend pass because even he cannot answer the question certainly.
Other people thought of my dad was kind of like 007 because he will just leave for travel on short notice. Others thought that he was a contract worker abroad. But for those who were with my dad for the last 20 years in public service, they have more details.

My dad asked me out to visit his office after my graveyard shift and I thought it was cool because it has been 14 years or so since the last. So I came to his office near the runway of an airport that he called “tower”. He briefly introduced me to his coworkers. Some of them could recognize me and gave that same now-you’ve-grown line. I thought it was normal. But something was different in the way they called my dad.

I found his office very cool, located at the third floor of the tower. It’s not the kind of office where there are lots of tables piled with paperwork. It’s just a room full of gigantic equipments for airway navigations, a few weather-dedicated computers and a couple of chairs. The place was freezing and we have to take off our shoes before getting inside because he said these devices are very sensitive to dirt and temperature. Good thing I wore a good pair of socks. There was this really big thing towering over me like a refrigerator, all it does is just to record all the flights that come each and every single moment so it has this big hard disk inside. There was also a device that aids the approaching plane pilot the accurate distance to land and an unusual power generator because it’s small. All of them were really branded so I asked dad if he has any idea how much these equipment cost. I got a negative answer.

Next stop was the top floor where I can have 360 degrees view angle of the whole airport. Lucky for me I was just in time to see a PAL Airbus plane getting ready for take off. Dad handed me my favorite but simple tool—the telescope. When I was 6, I find the thing very heavy that my dad has to hold the thing in front on my eyes but I managed it with one hand. The room also has equipment but mostly for monitoring the weather and there are walkie-talkies so the controller could communicate to the pilot. Pilot, he said? Maybe after this call center thing, I’ll apply to be a controller. I was shocked how airplanes now are having quiet engines. I barely new that a plane has landed or taken off in an instant unlike before in old Boeings. That is why houses were appearing like mushrooms a few meters near the runway. Dad explained that there is competition now in the market of airplanes so flights are having more fine features. Leading manufacturers from the US, McDouglas and Boeing, merged to counteract the joint European manufacturers that made Airbus 300. Maybe then someday people of the world will all have their own planes.

It was time for runway inspection and along with two of his officemates we hopped in to a pick-up truck. Dad surprised me again because he was the one to drive. I mean, I never really thought that he could drive well at all. We were speeding on the runway and I was worried if at any moment a plane would land on top of us. He just laughed and said that I shouldn’t worry too much. We visited each small fully air-conditioned rooms along the runway which I never thought of before as the little homes of very special equipment. They have to see that each is working fine every time and that each would be giving accurate signals or information. Most of them are for centering plane landing, transmitting grids and warning. Cool.

Now I understand why dad never told us his job description because it’s difficult for a person to get the picture of what he does and besides he does not like explaining a lot of things. He’s a man of action, I guess. When I looked into a bulletin board with their ranks, I found him having the title as the supervising airways navigation senior specialist. And I thought, “Yeah, I guess he’s right. Government employee is much shorter for filling up the part where they ask for my father’s job in forms.” Plus no questions asked.

We hung out in his office and have “the talk”. He just wanted me to seize all opportunities given unlike what he did before. He wished that I should have taken the degrees he did, things like that considering other things blah blah blah. What I like about him is that he doesn’t mind about women taking jobs which are for men. He really would like his children to learn how to drive even without an own car. We thought of putting out our own branch of TV station by purchasing the local RPN 9 someday. We both love the Prime Shift programs of that station as well as the lack of mass appeal, truly dedicated to the educated public. He desires to revive our favorite father-daughter hobbies, archery and target-shooting, after he could find a wider free time. He also plans to purchase a few music instruments just for fun. It’s funny how he could think of things like that when he’s at work. It comes to show that he’s still thinking of his kids most of the time and I’m glad for that.

I came to apprehend the magnitude of his work to a lot of people especially to the safety of the airplane passengers. Everyday, he has to ensure that every device is working properly so that no airway accidents would happen on his zone. Once a week he has to sleep in the office for early monitoring. He would have overtime if any of the equipment breaks down and it would take days to repair. I’m proud to say that one of the reasons why local airplanes are safe on their take off is because my dad is doing his job well.

Dad just wanted to show me how office works, how important it is to deal with different people and work as a team. Most of his group has to ask for his help but he told me to have patience and must know to impart knowledge to subordinates when that happens in my case. “Teach them how to fish not feed them.” he said. He also added that I must always make sure that there is a room for self-improvement; learning is a continuous process so just listen and understand. He didn’t have to explain much because he showed it to me which I think is a lot better. I knew he has to now that we’re in the same boat and that is what we call as work.

Love you Papsidudez the papsicool!!! ^___^
(I know I’m way too late for Father’s day but this one’s for you.)

Heartache case #5....

2006-05-11T01:05:00.000-07:00

Well hell... Thought that I'll never fall in love again but I still keep the flashlight on and off... I never thought that it'll end up this way but hell it is now... Hell or high water, that is...

I'm flogged with regrets. But they won't stop me from getting a life, will they?

I am so sorry. God, I never knew it until this time. But I'm still on the game. Come on! Try and bring me down. Try and give a touchdown!

(I'm talking nonsense.)

The firsts of the year…

2006-01-24T02:24:00.000-08:00

It’s been so long since I’ve blogged. I kind of liked the idea of being dormant and a sloth. Somehow I’ve fallen out of love, out of time and out of wealth for a short time and it still the first month of the year. Who knows worse things could happen. Welcome to Sherry’s pessimistic notions with certain phenomena again.

Just had a great time taking midterms last week without efforts on reading too much and discussing too much but the irony is that I passed it all like a breeze. I should do that more often. ^__^ Maybe I just got lucky with a new study partner. We found out on each other that the more we spend time together on just a few reviews, the topics just appeared on the test. Thank the Lord I’ve really found somebody who could understand the internal anatomy of insects, Hardy-Weinberg principle and discuss Incubus at the same time! It makes me fortunate to have a human charm around.

I don’t know if there is any chance that I could ever fall in love seriously again. The time when I was with those white-fluffy-clouds-in-the-sky feeling is just a high school memory. It’s time to get more serious but men at this age will infrequently take that serious feeling completely. So I dropped love out of the list and looked for more priorities.

My thesis has been stagnant and I don’t know if I could graduate on time. I’ve told dad that I’m going to finish it this summer and to my surprise he was cool with it. But the problem is my mom she might be fuming for going home this March for nothing. My dad has washed his hands off with anything that has to do with mom. Believe me, anyone would not want to hear more of her ranting. I planned to take the year off for a call center job and at the same time review for the National Medical Admissions Test and for some prestigious medical scholarships. I felt like I wasn’t ready to take any exam last year so I never took one. Oh well another one of Sherry’s perfectionist ideals. My dad is so very supportive with the call center job that his smiles are up to his ears every time I mention it. I can’t wait to make a resume on special paper.

It seems like this year will be healthy for me. I mean, literally. I’ve noticed that my funds have oozed out a bit all for food! My desire for food and cooking more foods is stronger and more imaginative than ever before. My family is the first critic, of course. I can hear their silent compliments after the meal when the plates are clean. And even more important when my cats are eating what’s for them too.

I hope and pray that this year would be a blessed one for me. So many goals, so many visions and yet so much to do.

Slayer existence…

2005-12-09T14:25:00.000-08:00

It’s getting nauseous already. Having this lower bourgeois routine resurrects the inner monsters inside of me. They are coming out from a foggy graveyard of my brain then creeping out like ghouls to my thoughts. It’s so disgusting since they’re leaving out a smegma for a pack of hungry wolves. I am so jaded with this kind of lifestyle wherein every ounce of prosperity equates to tons unappreciated work. This boredom is starting to revive my old promiscuous ways which I have left ancient years ago. Now I behold individuals who are taking advantage to capture their vulnerable prey. It’s true that the world is a vampire; it’s preying on people for financial or emotional gain. It’s draining the life out of me too. A vampire that no concoction, garlic or crucifix could vanquish so I have no choice but to live with it. There is also no escape since the world has its own pets, the vampiric bats, which follow and hover above everyone even in bedrooms and haunting on dreams. Leave me alone. Please! Just because I’m good at doing certain things doesn’t mean that I can live to people’s expectations. I know I can do it but as I’ve said, it’s already nauseating. For years I have always pleased almost everybody, now it’s my turn to live my life my own style. Someday I’ll cause that vampire have a sucking frenzy on its own blood not on others. For sure I’ll discover the remedy if I’m going to be one myself first for immortality.

A Christmas party…

2005-12-07T21:40:00.000-08:00

I try to recall the Christmas parties I had been through since kindergarten but only one is tattooed in my mind. It was the party when I was in grade two about twelve years ago.

On the day of the celebration, everyone including me was wearing new clothes that only moms could buy. The first things which I took notice before entering the classroom are the gifts on the table. Some were small, some medium and others are large. My classmates were hovering over them looking for their names but they were shooed away by the teacher. I panicked and went back to my mom because I haven’t brought one. She said that it was fine and that my gift from Santa Claus was there. I was such a doubter at that age so I just gave her a plastic smile and went back to the parlor games. I didn’t want to join because my mind was preoccupied at the gifts and I kept staring at the odd-looking large box with a yellow ribbon at the backmost part of the other gifts.

I said, “Nah. It can’t be mine. It looks ugly.”

I stared at other gifts thinking that one of them might be mine. Other gifts are dumbly wrapped, one would easily know if it’s a stuffed toy or a pillow because of the wrapper’s contour. And I don’t want any stuffed toy or a pillow for my gift! I have been a very good girl & got the highest grades in class so I expect a doll house!

Well as a child, you always wish you had the biggest gift. Big gifts mean big toys. What do you expect? Opening it in front of your friends would be fantastic to show off considering if it’s the newest & the hottest toy in town. But that was before, now my parents won’t even buy me protection. Just kidding.

Back to the story. So there I was, waiting for my gift during the roll call. I was wiggling my legs, my mannerism, because I was so nervous. Other kids were opening there gifts and implying joys over their “ahhs” and “oohs” over what they had. The teacher was killing me for the wait and only a few gifts were left! I almost got out of the chair to run and cry to my mom and tell her that she’s a liar. But then I heard my name, the teacher was holding out the odd-looking box to me. I didn’t almost accept it but I took it, held it like cake then shook it. Duh. That was stupid. No sound came out.

Everyone had their gifts but I didn’t open mine because I was afraid that I might be dismayed. One of my close friends approached me & said that we could open our gifts together. And so I did…

I remembered that time that wrappers should be torn so the gift would last for a long time so I ripped it but gently not to hurt the box enclosing something. Then I saw a pink box with fancy letterings and a transparent front covering a very beautiful doll with long blonde hair near the waste in a pink ball gown. It was a Barbie doll. My eyes can’t believe it and my heart just leaped out of gladness.

Instantly, I liked her intricately painted face and the way she’s accessorized with a pair of earrings and a wedding ring. She was cute and unique that I bet even the rich girls in our class didn’t have a doll like her at that time. She also had a pink comb suspended by a string on her side. I wanted to open her then and there but I imagined the ruthless things that my jealous classmates would do to her so I decided to take her out inside our house. (I was such a pessimist that time, thinking always of bad things to happen and a worrier.) I liked her so much that I ran to my mom protectively hugging the box, kissed her and said my thanks.

We gave a beautiful name to match the owner to whom she was bestowed to. That name is Lynnette that was taken from my second name. So there I’ve learned in that Christmas party that I shouldn’t judge a gift by its wrapper.

Ento field trip...

2005-12-07T19:46:00.000-08:00

We had a field trip in our Entomology (study of insects) class last Sunday, December 27, 2005. It was my first time to go camping. We did our camp somewhere at Cedar Park in Impalutao, Bukidnon, a place under the control of DENR.

It was cool, literally, because the place was cold and surrounded by pine trees, mahogany and other hardwood. I had a great time hiking and taking these pictures at the same time. Our goal there was to collect all kinds of insects such as butterflies, moths and stick insects for the XU festival days exhibit. I snatched an insect net to catch anything, tried and all I got was not an insect at all but a millipede. Hey, I was busy taking pictures not because of—of—oh forget it. It’s for documentation. Owws…? (I can’t help but say it, f**king sh*t I got a talent for photography.)

In the evening, we had a little acoustic concert under the twinkling stars with our instructor, Mr. Gualberto, who is also a very good musician and by the way part-times at a seaside restaurant in CDO. We sang songs as many as we can remember and yours truly had a great time doing the melody as the back-up singer. Hahaha…

We collected insects at almost 10 that evening and returned with our nets full of nocturnal insects. We all slept like the dead in the damned cold night. I dreamed of—ehem—angels, the first time actually. ~__^

In the break of morn, the breakfast was great, thanks to our chef Aleth, and a great hike was ahead for us. We trailed the way to climb a mountain to see two waterfalls and holy mother of the heavens, what great sights!

We all felt so exhausted and drained in the van on the way home that everyone, except the driver, was drowsing. The driver by the way went with the sightseeing and I want to knife him because of his advances whenever I will slip. Yyyuuuuck!! Keep your hands to yourself, driver A**hole!

Even though my shoes were damaged, caked with mud & glued with dead leaves I felt all right. After all, it was worth the Calvary and Jeesh, what a tremendous encounter with a hot, or shall I say, cool momma nature.

Webbie update...

2005-11-19T13:16:00.000-08:00

Well, nothin' new so I remodeled my webbie:

http://www.geocities.com/sheicchi

The background pics I used were from 3D artist in Korea. I hope you all find the pictures nice. There asre also wallpaper screenshots and pictures of me. ^__^

Whatta date…

2005-11-17T21:12:00.000-08:00

God is so #$%*@! good. I am so officially a certified student right now. After many days of grieving for my unsuccessful experiment, I finally got over it and surrendered my report to my adviser. My enrollment was delayed because of this perfectionist junkie who wants to make her thesis to be flawless. Like hell, after all the things I’ve done, I concluded that I have a thick face. As they say, “no guts, no glory”. My adviser, Mrs. Geraldine R. Mojica; thesis teacher-in-charge, Dr. Dulce R. Dawang; the biology department chairperson, Ms. Anita S. Mabao and my instructors helped me with the enrollment process. I can’t thank you enough for what they did. It’s a long story.

I want Dr. Dawang to know that she’s the best and the coolest teacher-in-charge one could ever have. I just submitted the report early in the morning then told me to come back later and—bam! My grade has been phoned in right away to Ms. Mabao and then got the ball rollin’. Ms. Mabao, by the way, is the most accommodating person by signing the most number of signatures on my letters. I thought I’d never be accepted by the registrar because I’m so late. But hey, I think that the school would still have a heart for a senior graduating student, right? So there I went, I wrote a letter to all of my instructors that I would still be admitted in their respective classes and had a triacylglyceride-burning signature campaign butting into their classes. Luckily, all of them still want me to be their student! Phew… *sigh*

My very good classmate, Chriezlyn, pushed me too far and has been my personal peer support group in the process. ^__^ Thanks a lot for the work, my friend. I appreciate it. Wow. I just realized that there are a lot of people who still cared for me during my nonappearance. Dr. Dawang has talked to my younger sister asking on my whereabouts, likely some of my biology teachers and most of all, my much-loved classmates who never stopped texting even without my replies. Even my parents got worried. They somewhat argued & kept pinpointing each other on which of them is responsible for my delay when in fact it’s both theirs. Hahaha. I am so unhappy that I have caused such a mess. I promise never to bring artherosclerosis with the people around me again. Lotsa thanks. *Mwah*

I knew that I have lots of catching up to do. I celebrated the day by taking-out my favorite barbeque at the Barbeque Station. Hehehe. I missed their BBQs in the past days. By the way, I don’t like their so called “station” but to their advantage, the BBQs taste great.

All mixed up and good to go...

2005-11-15T12:37:00.001-08:00

I like to read blogs, it can be somebody's or anybody's. But the problem is that I get teary-eyed when I stare in the monitor when it lapses for an hour. So I'm just seeing blurry texts and even not understanding what was written. What's funny now is that I've found an interesting blog to read and I can't even just stare at this f*ckin' monitor for too long.

Alright. I have a problem. And for now I just can't let it all out. I want to slam this keyboard, unscrew the CPU and throw the hard disk, and most of all punch the monitor. I don't know why I'm thinking these violent stuffs. But it's a good thing I'm writing them because if not, I'll be doing it. Nah.. kiddin'.

I've been liking this guy. It's like fever. He doesn't feel it but I'm really burning hot like really sick. Maybe I'll wait. I don't know who's going to wake up. I'll never ever gonna feel like this ever in my life again!

Grrr... Screw men for making me feel like a rag. I mean, some men.

I won't expect anything for now. Maybe my bestfriend is true. Men are not _ _ _ _ _ _ s, they are DOGS.

My favorite short story…

2005-11-11T16:14:00.000-08:00

I would prefer to read short stories because they are direct to the point and are well, what can I say—short. Some had actually moved me and one of them is my favorite, Oscar Wilde’s The Nightingale and the Rose. It is as part of a collection for the children’s book The Happy Prince and Other Stories published in 1888. Yeah, yeah, children’s stories but mind that it greatly appeals adult audiences too because of its implicit comments on the nature of art and love. Let me tell the short story short.

There is this Nightingale who lives in an oak tree in the garden of the Student. She dedicates her life to singing sweetly for the benefit of others. One day she overhears the Student, who is going hysterical because the girl he loves will only dance with him at the ball if he presents her a red rose, and there is none to be found. The Nightingale is very moved by this, for she feels she recognizes true love in the Student’s heart. She thinks of helping him out in his quest for a perfect red rose.

She travels through the garden, searching and asking questions. Other dwellers of the garden notice the distress of the Student, but do not share the Nightingale’s sympathy for his suffering.

Eventually she comes to the rose bush which will supply her with a single red rose, but her part of the bargain is quite brutal. She must sing to the bush all night long, and allow one of its thorns to pierce her heart. The Nightingale agrees, believing that she is sacrificing herself for love, which is greater than life, and for the heart of a man, which is greater than that of a bird.

Her plan comes to realization; the next morning Nightingale’s lifeless body is found at the foot of a bush bearing a single, perfect rose. The student rushes off ecstatically to his love to bring the rose, only to be scornfully rejected in favor of a wealthier suitor. The rose is thrown carelessly into the street that maybe crushed by carriages passing by. And the student decides to take up Philosophy.

This is such a heartbreaking story. The sacrifice of the Nightingale is heightened in intensity by the obvious lack of worth on the part of the Student & his stupid “love”. The bird’s actions are wasted because they were not appreciated by those to whom they were directly meant to help. In spite of this, the Nightingale’s selfless action stands alone as something perfect & pure, like the rose she created.

The Nightingale maybe the opposite to the Student, who is not really as much in love as he thinks he is! He is merely a hopeless romantic while the bird represents the nature of true romance. Both he & his love pay no attention to true love, she prefers having riches and he returns to his studies, but this Nightingale sacrifices herself for the one thing she believes in above all others.

It’s not just a mere fairy-tale but I quote in Rowbotham’s book Nineteenth Century Short Stories that in his time, “Wilde is making a comment on his perception of the role of the artist in society: to sacrifice oneself for one’s art in order that others may have pleasure. We see this in the Nightingale’s willingness to sacrifice herself for the Student although he does not appreciate or understand her at all.” True. It takes time to build a work of art but still there are others who just do not understand or do not know the work that was applied on it. Frustrating but it is the reality.

My short story…

2005-11-10T21:07:00.000-08:00

I love to write sometimes. It may be out of boredom or just inspired. Maybe I can tell a story or so.

At early summer of the time when I was nine or ten, I befriended a guy who just moved in the neighborhood. He was about the same age as me and he’s so kind. Eventually we became close friends. He visited the house almost everyday to play games like hide-&-seek, patintero and jumping jack. In midsummer, we officially became best friends. Whenever my mom calls for an errand, he’ll go with me and stuff like that. Even neighbors were nosy if there is a thing going on between us.

One afternoon, I was sitting on a bench under a guava tree in the front yard doing nothing but stare at our front door. A knock at the gate disturbed me from my thoughts then saw him from the iron bars. I smiled & let him in.

“Why are you early? It’s two in the afternoon.” I started.

He smiled back and said, “Nothing. Just passing by if there are ripe guavas already.” He looked upward, found two medium-sized and reached overhead to grab them. He dusted them off on his shirt and tossed the riper one to me because he knew I do not like bitter taste.

“Thanks.” I examined the guava and dusted it again on my shirt. “So what games do you have in mind?” I asked before taking a bite.

I sat back on the bench hiding my gladness, just in time when my cat needed a pat. So I put the cat on my lap and started to stroke his fur on one hand and clasping the fruit on the other.

“The usual. You know. Hey, maybe this time we’ll try something new like tumbang preso?” Mumbling the words as he ate.

He followed and sat beside me.

“That’s nice. We’ll try it later.” I agreed with attention still on the juicy guava.

He reached a hand and imitated the way I fondled the cat, our hands barely touching. Moments passed by and still we both said nothing until we finished and fired two balls of guava seeds in the next-door-neighbor’s roof which caused sounds like that of firecrackers. We held our laughs and giggles to avoid being caught. Luckily, the owners were in vacation.

To my surprise, he put his head on my shoulder and said, “Do you think we could be friends forever?”

I couldn’t see his face from my view so I did not know what he was feeling or what and I remembered something.

“Yeah I think so. Why? When are you going to Canada?”

“I don’t know, maybe in September. If things won’t work out there, I’ll come back.” He sat straight and surprised me again by asking, “What does it feel to be in love?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been—in love. Why? Do you think you are?”

“Uhm… Not so sure.” He looked at me.

Keeping my sudden change of joy to gloominess, I masked it with a smile and a statement, “Aha! So you have another crush on someone.”

“Yes, but this one different from the others.”

“So tell me about her.”

“I think I’ve found the most beautiful person in the world.”

“Go on…”

He hesitated for a second.

“But I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

He said something close to my ear that caught me to another one of his surprises but it was the surprise of all surprises in that afternoon that even my ears did not believe.

Summer days ended and the school days were starting. We rarely see each other since then. Mom has told me to stay in the house for my studies.

Until now, when I see him, I secretly smile and frequently reminds me of the line he said that afternoon.

“He’s a guy…”

I don’t know if one will buy it. After all, it’s just a—story.

Unquiet....

2005-11-05T17:42:00.000-08:00

Friends always ask about my love life. That’s because I don’t want to tell anything or even inkling to them. I felt like I’ll be showcasing my private life if I will and that’s a big no no not unless if she’s my best friend.

I’ve been studying guys for the past years and one of the things I’ve learned that what is between the two of us must be kept with between the two of us. A best friend can be told but not the details. Just in case if plans backfire, she’s on the rescue.

I saw that a guy felt betrayed when he has learned from someone else about the things he did or say in private. So if my girlfriends & I are in for some heart-to-heart talk, I keep my mouth shut even if they are goading me to spill something. It’s so damn annoying when I got teased for something they don’t know. And you know that they’re doing it because they’re hot for the headline and you can’t simply chill them out.

Maybe I’m going to graduate college and just realized something after my younger sister has told me that I had no official boyfriend ever in my life and if I’m going to march without one, she’ll come to me after the ceremony and give me a hug. I don’t know if it was an insult or a compliment. I don’t know how to take it. In this world where every girl had an “official boyfriend” even once in their life, I’m what they call as, well, a –loser. But am I really? On the other hand, she elaborated that I’m somewhat a dedicated person towards my studies and that it’s the better thing to do. But have I been truly dedicated? I’ll keep the answers to myself. I’d rather have that hug than a headache or worse—a heartache.

Tell me that I’m not on the shit… again

2005-10-30T19:38:00.000-08:00

I’m so sick and tired of being in the state of what they call as “cloud nine” then came up wounded afterwards—again. Damn. I don’t want to hurt other people’s feelings. All I did was done and I don’t have a f*ckin time machine or a rewind button to undo or redo. Really, if I have to do it to be everybody’s friend, then why not? Man, why can’t people just say what they really feel? Why can’t they just spit it on my face to back off in their territory because they “poo-ed & pee-ed” on it?!? I’m a person who easily understands so they can shoo me off with no difficulty in no time. Just ask me straightforward and—bam! There goes the wish in a snap of a finger. That would also give me easy time to lick my wounds then “move on” and not just to waste my life in vain.

It’s Sunday and I just remembered the scripture lesson in the service this morning and it was all about complains, complaints and complainers.

(I have a thing for blogging but I got a feeling that it’s just one way of advertising one’s stupidity. And oh boy, I am. Thank God I’m not in THAT reality show. I'm just being human)

Just like heaven...

2005-10-30T07:59:00.001-08:00

Oh well. Another sem jungle on my GPS. I don't know if I can tread on the path with righteousness and the "righteous" any longer. Just this and everything will be written en blanc. I can't help but laugh on what I've been through with the Xavier walls. Maybe I'm just anxious to go out or whatever.
I need someone. Or something. I can't give up. Not at this time. I need-- some inspiration. God help me but I do. I hate to see myself in front of the mirror ten years from now and ask why I didn't do things. Certain things like getting a tattoo or join a rock band. And hell, I know that things which are difficult to do are worth dying for. But still there are priorities. Believe me, they are hard to get them in line like ducks on the road.
I'm like in a pressure cooker right now. The pressure is too hot and too painful to handle. But I still have hope and more likely faith or even most--love.

Confessions v 1.1

2005-09-25T23:36:00.000-07:00

I also have secrets that some don't know of. This is exclusive. I'll try to think about others so I don't think it'll be worth reading...

1. Love cats. I can't sleep without him.
2. I'm also a "kikay"-- a girly-girl. I can't leave the house without my VMV basics. Now you know?
3. I'm a sucker for strawberries. Strawberry cream, strawberry-flavored chocolate, strawberry ice cream, strawberry flavored condoms... hahaha...
4. I'm a coffee addict. I drink coffee at about 6 cups when really needed. Not black but full of creamer or sometimes with milk.
5. I used to dream of having an anime boyfriend. Well, I can't find the "perfect man" around here so I preferred an animated one and his name--Mamuro.
6. But... I only had one true crush ever since 2nd year high school not until the other year. He's quite popular so I won't bother giving a clue. ~__^
7. The only hollywood celebrity I've ever planned to marry since six is Mr. Johnny Depp. It's the mystery, the aura, the masculinity and everything. I think the infatuation started when I empathized Edward in the movie Edward Scissorhands.

Screw him...

2005-09-25T22:54:00.000-07:00

Aaaaaaahhhh! Damn, damn, damn. I can't believe he has the NERVE. Grrrrrr... Where did he sleep last night? No, not on my bed but with somebody's, I guess.
I thought we had this thing going on, you know. But that bastard just can't get off his hands on that flirting biatch.
At first he was cool with me and everything just went fine until this morning, I found him humping that-that-that--ahhh!
So what is it now? All the memories we had are going into trash? What about those cold showers or those chocolate-licking times huh?
Men. I really don't understand or what's the problem? Is it me who's the problem? No. I don't think so. The first times went fine then in the next, everything goes boomerang...

So tired...

2005-09-24T13:36:00.000-07:00

This is the fault of my parents. If they didn't treat me like a baby I would having a great time in someone else's apartment right now.
It's dad's fault how I became a daddy's girl. Now I can't do anything without his help! It was always him who did my most complicated projects before and now it's my fault that he'll be absent in his work just to help me im my thesis! It's not my fault to be so dependent on my dad! Uh-uh... Totally uh-uh...
I don't believe this. I can do this. Really. *sob*

Trying my hand in photography…

2005-09-16T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is my classmate. He’s quite shy and quiet in class but I don’t know what made him do everything I’ve said before I pointed-and-shoot. We just took it at a friend’s house while getting some laboratory pictures processed. I sent an e-mail full of his pictures to friends that won KT the title as the “cutie” in class. This proves that “silent waters run deep” and that one does not have to brag anything when she/he has something to show.

The men in my life…

2005-09-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

There are certain men that I can’t resist.

First, my dad who hassles me with a lot of household chores and requests that has something to do with computers something like encoding his reports, cd-burning his CDs, checking his e-mail (would you believe it?) and others. But what I can’t resist is to help him make antennas. It’s really cool since I’m doing something that’s not learned in school but from my dad! It doesn’t make me feel masculine or anything but dad tolerates it. He even taught me how to read and make few basic circuits that requires stripping wires, soldering irons and testers. He says that women nowadays should never be afraid to try things that are supposed to be made for men and likewise. I wouldn’t resist liking that statement, of course, because I’m a feminist myself.

Second, my younger brother who is such a brat. Spoiled practically by everybody. Why? He’s a gorgeous sweet boy. It’s just that he’s saying the magic words with every demand. We just love to spoil him, that’s all.

Last, my cat who’s very irresistible. I think he’s my soul mate. (Is that possible?) I think he’s got the qualities that I want for a guy. He’s smart because he knows the favorite foods I’m eating and demands to eat them, whenever he sees the pack, as well. He’s cute because he has the softest fur a girl can ever touch and has eyes that don’t scare me of all people. He’s the jealous type of guy because he doesn’t want me to touch other cats and even sits on top of my books whenever I feel like reading. He’s caring because he looks at me whenever I’m tired or sad, or when I need a hug he never badges to let me hug him for a long time and he sleeps beside me whenever it’s cold never leaving me until dawn. He’s very high maintenance but I decided keep him for myself.

These are just the men that I just can’t resist for now. I’m still looking for others who couldn’t wait to be spoiled next.

Dream house...

2005-09-15T20:07:00.000-07:00

I always wanted to have a house somewhere in Europe. I don't exactly know what or how much it will cost me. Or who will live with me there?
Sounds weird, eh? Well that's what goes in the mind of a historical romance freak.

Pathway to Recovery...

2005-09-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

The show was postponed and moved tomorrow...

Punk's not dead...

Be there at Punchbowl by 6PM...

Everbody's closed...

2005-09-15T18:56:00.000-07:00

Well lucky me....

I just found a new place to hangout...
Linux-served-hot-on-the-plate cafe...
Topped just right with the apps I like...

I'll be here in a while...

I guess they'll gonna take some time off for a while...
~__^
...for the license.. iykwim

I'll get used to this... I like it...
I don't know who I'm gonna thank for...
I'll start with God...

2005-09-15T04:15:00.000-07:00

I like cats. I have two at home. My favorite is named Dagupling. And he looks like that when he sleeps. He takes up all the space in my bed. But what I really like about him is that he hugs my hand or leg whenever it's cold at night. It's simple sign of affection but it means a lot to me.

Welcum...

2005-09-15T03:36:00.000-07:00

I like... I like... I like...
To blog, that is...

I like my new blog...
I like it better...

I'll make it a habit to post more...