Six Factoids

I actually have a love/hate relationship with surveys, but since this one doesn't ask me to bold stuff, nor to answer something like "what did you last eat?", I willingly took this (from Elaine). Besides, I think it's about time you get to know more about me. d:

Once tagged by this entry, write a blog entry of some kind with six random facts about yourself. In the end of it, pick six of your friends and tag them! (No tag backs). This explanation must be included, of course.

► Not your ordinary high school girl. I was intimidating, to say the least. I always picked the ramp as my route to the cafeteria, which also was the favorite stomping ground of some annoying preppy juniors. And surely, a simple "padaan!" out of my piehole can quickly clean that specific area in seconds. Well, metaphorically speaking. But you see, I was borderline a bully, and that kind of attitude brought me to the principal's office innumerable times. It wasn't a nice highlight of my years at all. If being forced to drop out wasn't enough punishment, then I don't know what is.

► I was a 3-time pool champion. It all started when my friends discovered a new hang out, a billiards hall accross the campus. I'd always save some off my baon just so I can play there after school, and since my parents were confident that I wasn't into drugs or anything of the like, they never were against it, and even encouraged me to do better. I represented my school once, got the gold medal, and then eventually won a couple more tournaments outside for myself.

► I'm a jolog like everyone else. On paper, people perceive me to be well-heeled. But I'm naturally just like any kanto kid out there. I ride jeepneys, even trycicles, I wear flip-flops when I go out, I played patentero when I was little, I curse in Tagalog, and most of all, I eat streetfood. I didn't stomach chicken intestines though, let alone its head and feet, but I've had a taste of almost everything the sidewalk offered me. My ultimate favorite would have to be the Betamax. It's this solidified pig's blood that comes with spicy vinegarette sauce. Man, I love that stuff! I know it sounds funny, but seriously, it's not even fear-factor-ish. Extremely delicious, trust me!

► I'm a human-parlor. I think I can do this for a living, from cleaning nails to dyeing roots, almost everything but chopping locks. This isn't an innate ability though, I give credit to my nanny and my gay best friend for demonstrating this part of being kikay to me while growing up.

► I can't dance. I have vague memories of myself and a couple more girls dancing in a Mathematician contest in 4th grade as an intermission number. I even had some piece of my creativity thrown into the choreography, mind you, haha. But that was a loooong time ago. Hence, I always find myself sitting in one corner emptying bottles of beer during club parties instead of crazy swirling on the dance floor. It's lonely sometimes, that's why I'd take a drinking fest over a club-hopping trip, any day. Plus, it's more fun to drink when you're exchanging stories with a group of people, rather than hip grinding with random strangers you met about 2 seconds ago. It's just creepy slutty disgusting. *lol*

►And lastly... I never get drunk. I admit to be drinking a lot, but I never get drunk. Dizzy, yes. Tipsy, no. I don't know if it's my football body, or my impressive mental control, but I've never been manhandled because of too much alcohol. My mother always pokes fun at it by saying that it's part of being my father's daughter, since everybody in his clan is accustomed to alcohol, organically. But whatever, as if any reasoning would matter. d:

Done. I'm passing this to Ate Clare, Jaz, Deb, Vayie, Laureen, and Bone. Only if you have time (:

Rainy Days on Mondays

If I may have appeared merciless in the previous post, I apologize. But I believe I have proven a beyond valid point. Nevertheless, I'm in no position to sway my friend's emotions to a certain way that would only feed my concerns. She has complete control of herself, wether she chooses to be assertive or continuously be naive, I shall not care. In line of Vayie's advice, I must ignore her. She's a person of right age, therefore, she should know better. Plus, I'm no spongebob.

Actually, I've pondered about the numbers thing before going to bed last night just to verify what I've said in the previous entry. You know what, I'm absolutely right! Haha, not that it super matters, but it only tells me that I'm theoretically the kind of woman who would dispose a couple of year's worth, or even more, of being with a person who scumbagged me to begin with. It just can never be enough measure of a relationship. I can't deny though that the longevity, with the memories that it hauls, is all that easy to scrap, of course not, but I don't think it's the toughest job to throw everything over your shoulder when the connection doesn't work anymore.

One thing that certainly elevated my view was my parents' situation prior to their marriage. They met through common friends, and after a month of dating, they got married. Yes, that immediate. And just for the record, my mother wasn't pregnant when she got hitched, nor was it fixed. I never seeked for details causing the hastiness because my mom couldn't figure out the perfect way to execute an explanation, hence her timeless joke, "pinikot niya kasi ako!". And since I couldn't get anything from her, I settled on the perceivable fact that it was simply the progeny of their overwhelming love and admiration for each other. I thwarted my opinion on numbers once I've learned about this, and as you can see, my point has been tested and proven.

You also can't blame those who readily, and at certain urgencies, selfishly dissolve an aged relationship because somebody, who they believe is the right one, unanticipatedly comes into the picture. You know, that certain love song, "It's sad to belong to someone else, when the right one comes along", exactly like that. Quite a trap to be in, but yet again, it only tells you that a 2, 5, 10 year old relationship can go down to tubes if and/or when you discover that your behalf is not the destined person for you to spend your whole life with. Um, yes, I'm corny like that. I believe in destiny. I'm a fatalist, just so you know.

As I've mentioned, I'm really looking forward to see The Last Kiss. I think my theories on numbers and destiny are somehow exhibited in this film. Moreso, the quirks of becoming of age. Making choices, having doubts, choosing the right person to be with. Stuff like that.


Go, check it and the effin' awesome soundtrack too!

It's just numbers, dude.

How do you tell a friend that the person she longs for is full of bullshit? Quite a challenge, yeah?

Story starts when I had the time to talk to a good friend recently, whom I haven't been in touch with for a long time. Expectedly, we had an awesome time catching up, anecdotes from present in-ring romances to our friends getting impregnated one by one. But this certain topic that dominated our chatter was regarding her situation with her boyfriend slash ex-boyfriend of which I firmly condemn. I know, not my business, but as the intrusive friend that I am, I felt I needed to enlighten her of what could be the internal wreckage that currently centers their relationship.

Before I go any further, I don't infringe the confidentiality within the people involved by not saying their names, and how and when I met them. I'm only relaying to you circumstances that you may figure a relevance with. And in true Elle Woods fashion... I have a point, I promise.

To cut the long story short, the real situation is this... They broke up after a 2 year old relationship largely because of the guy's immutable playful nature that had been excessive and redundant, resultantly provoking the girl to end it completely. Of course, I liked what she did, it's a woman's job to dump, but supposedly, guy is trying to win her back, with innumerrable tactics, to say the least. Fine, it's totally lucid, moving on from somebody you've been canoodling with for 2 years is not a piece of cake. However, how can you be sure that he's finally sincere this time? In our small talk, she was trying to say that she wants to give him YET another try. I was just like, "seriously??". I was guilelessly astounded. Like, are you dumb or something? Well, sure, she still loves him yadda yadda yadda, but why? If a guy doesn't take your commitment earnestly, once, twice, thrice... dude, it's about time to give him back to his momma.

You might say I may be a little too inconsiderate, but I'm a woman too, and I believe I know how it feels like. It's just not about letting go, it's also about retaining a little pride to yourself. Girls are not video games. That when you get corpsed on the first stage, you can turn the machine off and just try to get passed it another day. Same old shit over and over again. It should be tiring, yeah? Hence I'm intensely perplexed about her standpoint in this. I don't know what that guy fed my friend, but she seriously needs some rehabbing of some sorts. You know what, when I asked her what keeps her from conclusively unattaching herself, she simply replied, "sayang ang two years, e!". You can only imagine the words that raced out my spaghetti hole. It's only numbers, dude!

Look-alike Bandwagon

Of course I'm not gonna let another blog trend pass me by just like Superman did, haha. I also had a picture of mine (actually tons of them, but only one qualified, darn it) evaluated over at My Heritage. But to my dismay, I didn't get Angelina Jolie in there. Why do you all have her and I don't? That's unfair! But I believe my set seems to be quite accurate. At least I think so. d:


Click here to blow this up.

On another story...

I wasted more unwanted time with my new boyfriend again this afternoon, and what better way to bum around than to watch a Filipino movie via it. Actually, I've been wanting to see this movie since the first time I saw its trailer, but since I evidently don't get Filipino movies here, I had to wait for it on the site. Thank God for these generous people who laboriously upload flicks on youtube just so they can share it with centless foreign land residents like myself. Anyway, the feature's trailer is like that of The Lake House's, it captivates the viewers' eyes all by itself, which ideally makes a clever initial impression. And so, I reaffirmed my curiosity over this award winning production and sat through its entirety. The movie doesn't start with a relative haziness - which frequently happens in romantic stories like this - whereas it goes straight to the main storyline... Manuel is looking for Corazon. I eagerly jumped in and journeyed with him in looking for this person, despite my eventual overwhelming bemusement regarding who the real one might and should be. As the movie advances, I get distinctive clues on who the legitimate Corazon we're looking for - there's a torn photograph on one, and a locket (a pendant or something) on the other. Both had been promised to be danced by Manuel in the tune of no less than each's favorite song, Blue Moon. One is the first love, the other one is his uncertain true love, as the argument on which kind of love never dies goes on. Now tell me, how could I possibly be sure, at any point in that film, but the latter part, that I'm thinking of the right Corazon. In fact, I would periodically ask myself, "So she's the real Corazon?" or "Which Corazon was that?" which only signifies that this movie is successful for trapping you in its own psycho bubble. That's the point of the film, to mystify you. I may be a little unimpressed with the acting collectively, but the story, just by itself, totally made up of what it lacked technically. It was original and was suitably romantic. And it's confusing, which added the little kick to it. It barely made me cry though, but I was truly satisfied.

Since we're at it... I'm quite interested in watching The Last Kiss which is an adaptation of this Italian movie. It's a no brainer, I've always been amused by Zach Braff, especially when he got Punk'd. But kidding aside, I think this one's considerably good, and that the plot is more on the realistic side compared to what I've been induced by lately. Plus, it has a kick ass soundtrack too! I actually wanted to talk more about this, but I thought I'll just reserve it for the next entry. For the time being, you bitches have fun this weekend, alright? I'm gonna try to. (:

Youtube. Such a remedy.

Boredom kills, and it's doing its job on my machine adequately. I think I'm gonna die! I have nothing else to do, goddamnit! I jogged in the morning, did the laundry, watched the daily teleseryes, cleaned the backyard, dyed my mother's hair, sat through a Project Runway marathon, but I still feel like I need to do some more. Sitting infront of the computer, nor lounging on the couch just doesn't satisfy me. Ugh! I'm so fuckin' bored!

I was telling my mom earlier how it would have been less boring if we have jeeps here. Like in our place in Cainta, whenever I feel the urge to go out, a simple 4-peso ride to the mall could totally make my day. Not that a couple of bucks bus ride here isn't reasonable, but the convenience back home just can't compare to the underwhelming gratification this place caters a seasoned bum like myself.

Good grief, there's youtube! The late hours of my afternoon were altogether consumed by watching free feeds of Big Brother 7, some old American Idol clips, and a little something something. I told you, I'm bored to death. But surfing through the awesomemest site brought me to this clip of Kelly Clarkson headbangin' with Metal Skool. This girl is the shit, dude. I loved her in American Idol, but I loved her more when she broke out of that popsy mold. She's so wasted in this video, but girl can still sing! Amazing. Check it.



But dickhead from Yellowcard is such an attention whore. I resented him. Anyway...

I was watching this JC Penney Concert thing last night, and I thought I'd just share this beautiful duet by Andrea Bocelli and Katharine McPhee. [To Deb: You're effin' lucky!! (:] I swear I would have paid to see this performance. I enjoy Bocelli. I know. Remotely different from my indie music fanaticism, but I'm weird like that. You know. d:



It's raining outside, heavily might I add. And as how I always tell my peers, "watching the rain from my window makes me sad". I have to leave the desk now, or I'd be drowning in tears in no time. Dope, of course not! Haha. Harold and Kumar is on TV again. That shall make my day.

Inside our family's car.

One of the things why I like my mother sitting in the backseat is so to keep her from arguing with the driver (aka my father), because naturally the constant nagging is just a little unpleasant to the ears. However, no matter where she is seated, neither how hard I try to calm her down, I always end up unsuccessful, and my father being no less than annoyed.

We left the house at around 10:30pm last night in hopes of arriving our destination at least before midnight. But Papa opted not to take the freeway due to his reading difficulties without street lights, therefore, we took another route which unfortunately brought us disorientation. We were only looking for Shell, and before we knew it, we were lost. A little over 15 minutes of squabbling, shutting them up on my part, we finally found the entry to the right path. And as soon as I saw the AMC logo from afar, I told Mama with glee...

Me: "Ma, there's the Stone Briar mall, we're already close by!"
Mama: "Yeah, if your Papa only listened to me, you should have seen that logo a long time ago."

Hahahaha, Winner!

But in events like this, my mother's navigating skills can be very useful, although she has a tendecy to be inevitably cantankerous. Hence I think my father should learn how to start listening to his human-GPS behalf. It can only take us on a peaceful ride each time. (:

Big Brother Trainee.

Drama Queen?

In the immortal words of the now infamous Whitney Houston... Hell to the NO!

You know, life is just a game of manipulation. You just got to have an unshakable strategy to reign victorious each time an assault awaits you. Some worthy allies who you can surely depend on along the turbulent ride. Utilize your face's holes and smart senses effectively to easily distinguish those who are capable of stabbing you in the back, regardless of relationship. And you gotta have faith, just exactly how it goes in that aging George Michael record. Well, not really. But I digress. Of course, there will be episodes when you'll find yourself in such a baffled, clueless, Paris Hilton disposition that you can only have the slightest idea of ejecting the clogs that hinder your journey to the top. But at the end of the day, you only have to be a sharp contriver and a fearless combatant in order to survive. You only have you. I only have myself. No more, no less.

These emulous schmucks just ultimately love feasting on - well, what they begrudgingly call - my falsities. I therefore manifestly discard my tendecies of caring too much about what these fuckin' nincompoops had to say about me. And I quote Mary C. Kraemer, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired". So you know what? Kiss my Asian ass, bitches. You can rot in hell, for all I care. *folds arms, rolls eyes, stomps right foot, and proudly walks away* ((:

Anong 'pake' mo?

Another fucked up portion of my polluted organism.

For sure, a lot of us, if not all, at one point in our lives, have intruded somebody else's individuality, may it be on purpose or unintended. However, the other end can only take too much of tresspasing, naturally. I personally HATE it when somebody messes with my stuff, let alone my character, my whole being. In a little way, it somehow frustrates me too, because I would clearly think of a modus of how I can make this certain person not loathe an established part of me, and restrict him or her from needlessly commenting on my lifestyle.

Allow me to give you a concrete example.

The World Cup. FIFA. It was a craze a couple of months back. I never watched soccer that religiously (at all, even) in my life, hence the disturbance some people I know got induced by. I question their being so concern, when nothing about soccer can even seriously jeopardize my life. OK. I admit that I got myself into that sport initially because of some delicious visuals on the field. However, through the course of the tournament, I have learned the rules, the fouls, and basically everything about it just by watching the damn thing. I'm being defensive, I know. It bothers me how somebody can even be so intrigued by how quick my adoption of the fanaticism was. And it annoys the heck out of me, how eager they investigate on your obsession's history. Yes, I may have jumped on a certain bandwagon or two. But what is wrong with that? It's a matter of choice to begin with, and I simply enjoy the experiences it hauls. Yes, and the "I know everything about 'this' now" feeling that comes along with it. This is just a tiny piece of a little percentage that I smile about each day, and yet it's still incalculably disheartening to have these numbskulls predatorily cause a quietly happy person feel miserable about her choices. Only because she luxuriates in the simplest, craziest, and most random things.

I'm not only disgruntling about the above mentioned, that is just too shallow for a blog entry. But theoretically, many other fields of my personage that these idiots perseveringly and dedicatedly try to further examine on, and potentially decimate. Now I know how it must feel to be a celebrity, unwantedly bombarded by the objectionable behavior besetting your entity.

I can only take too much intermeddling, pestering, and sniveling, right? Gosh. I love my life.

I'm supposed to be strong.

In the event you find out that this one person, who you know/knew will be by you until your last days on this motherfuckin' planet, categorically hates you, and you're absolutely unaware of it all along... how are you supposed to react and assuringly bounce back from it?

You cry?

Scream?

You fuckin' curse?

I honestly don't know.

When I got my heart markedly broken the first time, I was in a friend's house, porking out on a can of Selecta, which anyhow made me feel better. There's actually some left over ice cream in the fridge, but mother will kill me if she doesn't find a dessert before she goes to work later. What do I do? I feel like Jennifer (of Sa Piling Mo) who habitually sneaks out late at night, only to get attacked by her excessively suspicious husband. The shock value, and the furious anxiety. It sucks so bad! I seriously need something to cool me down. At quarter past 3 in the fuckin' morning. I wish I can easily drive thru DQ. Walmart. Or something.

I hate to be a Drama queen. That's the last thing I would want people to call me. But if you think that I'm starting to become one, then fine. Maybe I deserve it. After all, life has been quite uneasy for me. All I've prayed for was to die blissfully, and I can't believe that even this ultimate wish now may never be granted. Because certain people just hate me (to fuckin' pieces). Even those who I least expected to hold vicious grudge against me. A free cookie to anybody that can give me something more depressing than that.

I'm doomed. I can only cry myself to sleep. Poor girl. Can do nothing but whimper.

Instead of a pot session.

Just when I thought I would never get absorbed by this Korean-telenovela-craze, there I was, swimming in tears while ensnaring the romanticism of Winter Sonata on AZN a few months back. Seriously. It's that overwhelming. And so, upon learning my overflowing adoration for this certain drama series, Kuya Richard immediately lent me his season of Endless Love, another Korean chuvaloo. Mama and I sat through it in 3 days, and boy were our eyes brownish swollen like rotten bananas. Hahahaha! My reputation of a toughie is officially ruined. I'm a hopeless romatic after all! *kaching-kaching in my eyes*

Without failure, I have switched back to the dutiful movie-goer that I am. Expensive, but seemingly satisfying. Apart from these, I managed to see a couple more this week (including WTC), and I'm planning on checking out 3 more in the coming days. I'm not doing anything else anyway, and I never plan on munching some weed stuffed brownies just so I won't get bored. Movies, and television, are a good way to go. Besides, they're never boring. Follow my lead! (;

And BTW. It's been three years since my last blunt. I'm such a good girl. Thank you Papa God!

Just a dream...

What do you do when you finally see your dreamhouse? Your jaws drop instantaneously. You feel a humongous dab of astonishment attacking your chest. And you can only say "wow". Just the years of fascinating the damn thing comes to an end and you finally get to see what it's like in reality. Beautiful isn't even the appropriate word for it. It's beyond perfect! I'm dreamy...yet again. But hey, I might have that house, we might never know. After all, it's way cheaper than my current residence. I mentioned my trip to Frisco, right? Well, the house is located there. It's a city which is currently in the state of progress. Meaning, it's not yet as established as some of Dallas' suburbs, but it's rapidly getting there. We were advised that getting a house there is the most convenient decision one household could make. Because one, it is cheaper, and two, it's listed as one of the safest suburbs in this county. Less criminal percentage, and a middle-class type of living. What else can you ask for? But the thing is, moving is not as easy as boiling water. *sigh* I hope the price doesn't change too much by the time I can buy it on my own. And so, suitably for now, I'll just go back to woolgathering.


I picked my room... Just in case. ((:

Delinquent Movie-goer

I divulge my being a lazy-assed movie-goer. I missed a damn whole lot, including the much anticipated Superman. Superfreakinman. Yes. I missed it. But in an uncharacteristic behavior, I was inclined to watch three movies this week, four if I get to watch another one tonight. Well, not that I spent a lot...um, at all. Thanks to the folks who sedulously upload movies on youtube. It's just amazing, don't you think? Hehe. I watched 2/3 of my moviefest via it, and it's obviously in my most comfort. Good grace!

First up, on a rainy Monday afternoon, I went to see The Descent. Initially, I didn't really want to go, but with my brother's persistence, I just couldn't withstand. I'm honestly a coward when it comes to supernatural things, let alone monstrous human-eating humanoids, so the movie indeed scared me, and didn't make me feel good about sleeping that same night.

Then we're off to the youtube marathon. Obviously, the idea of sitting on the couch infront of your computer is already tranquilizing, but it's even more than that when you're actually seeing a product of Asian craftsmanship. Dubai was as predictable as can be though, but the actors made up for the lack of creativity in its plot. Watching the trailer was like watching the entire feature itself. I may be a little critical, but that's what I thought of it. However though, the authenticity of events shown in the movie truly reflects the masses, hence it's overpowering success in overseas countries which embody Filipino workers. Having a mother who had gone through the exact same pain and sacrifice, I was genuinely touched by certain dramatic scenes, so it wasn't really that bad after all. Il Mare, on the other hand, is totally the opposite of predictability. The idea of the movie itself is stupefying, and it gets even better as it advances. The acting was not even close to being over-the-top, it was just right on, despite the atypical storyline. I recommend this to people who are suckers for romantic tearjerkers.

If I didn't make sense enough, go HERE to read my extended opinions about these movies.

On another topic... It's no secret that I'm a huge sports junkie, especially of those which comprise a number of papables (as a dear friend calls them). Rogers Cup is currently in progress, and I can't hate myself less for missing Rafael Nadal's first two matches. Gaaaah!

Anyway, I'm off to Frisco in a few hours. At last, I'm going somewhere else, hahaha. Will be back with whatever I can gather for a chika, and a review of what could be the next movie I'm going to see. Have a great weekend, everyone. Be safe!

Far Away

Don't you just hate it when a single song you overhear from the radio can abruptly tear you up? I'm possibly the least sentimental person on earth, and I don't get mushy as a normal girl does. But as I was rethinking my day before going to bed last night, this track by Nickelback played, and with the DJ's advice to attentively listen to the lyrics, I indeed methodically did.

"That I love you. I have loved you all along.
And I miss you. Been far away for far too long.
I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go.
Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore."

It's weird how it can affect your emotions too much. As I've said, I'm not the most mawkish type of person at all, hence my bewilderment. But feasibly, it just darts through you when it literally or metaphorically defines what you really feel towards something, towards someone.

I apologize for being discreet about the catalyst of my being effusive, but I don't normally open up here anyway. The mere reason why I'm sharing this sentiment is that I know that a lot of you can definitely relate. Filipinos, in general, love music, especially those that speak of what really does happen in reality. Ideally, songs can only do so much - Lighten you up, suddenly make you frown, or even help you get over something. And needless to say, I love its chore of conventionally making us feel a certain way. It is quite contributive. Perhaps, writing a song can be another maneuver to vent out strong affection, yeah? Maybe I'll give it a try.

He's gotta be bad.

I admit, I'm positively one of the few ones who believe that first love indeed dies, eventhough it would be an absolute delight to see Britney and Justin back together. That's definitely sweet, but I just can't see myself being reunited with my first love. Ever.

Saw his most recent photo around Friendster and to my dismay, he grew his hair and changed his style, in other words, he looked drastically different. Totally not my type, not that it matters, and not that it's the only thing I'm after. But no matter how I loathe his semblance of mature image, I still have to say that he's undoubtedly one of the nicest guys I've ever met in my life. He always made me feel noteworthy, and was probably the closest thing to a prince charming a preteen Snow White could ask for. But the thing is, he was too nice! Our puppy love blommosed in 4th grade, nothing really serious, as it waned eventually. We met again in high school, where I was totally the opposite of what I was when he met me, but in junior year, I somehow found out that I was still in his pursuit. Like, what? If a guy is not over you after 5 years, there's something wrong. And it quite freaked me out.

Therefore, if you're the typical nice guy who always has the most difficult time of letting go, then you're totally not for me. I know, what the heck, right? Maybe you're totally misunderstanding my point. I'm not looking for a guy who has a crapload of tattoos all over his engine, nor a guy who has piercings even down to his balls. I'm only wanting a guy who won't be afraid to not compromise. One that can battleshit with me, curse me once in a while, someone that can take me to some place unimaginable. A God-fearing daredevil, a family-oriented son of a bitch, and a respectful-to-his-wife badass. Oh boy, how I wish I can program my eventual husband. *sigh*

On a completely irrelative note, I just witnessed another piece of history last Friday. I think I found my dream guy. Ha! I'm such a laughingstock... Travis Pastrana, perfectly landing the first ever Moto X double backflip in X games history. Yes, a kiss of death. I think I just described him precisely in the previous paragraph, hahaha. I'm dreamy. Fine. I'll stop.


I think I love him. Hahaha! *zips kisser*

Chain Yakking

Papa bought me this jar of chocolate filled wafer sticks from the Asian market earlier this week, you know, those which look like champola. It has been hanging around in the kitchen for almost a week, and the subconsciously gluttonous being that I am, munch on it every after meal. I just can't resist! It's been years since the last time I got a grip on those. So yum! And you bet, them wafer sticks are disappearing like leaves on a tree during fall, haha.

Speaking of fall, our backyard seems to be living on a different season. The next one is yet to hit this part of the crust later this month, so the leaves falling this early is quite an annoyance to my sight. Plus, I hate to be cleaning the mess, specially under the gally heat.

Speaking of heat, Dwyane Wade, and the rest of Team USA were victorious in their first dress rehearsal last night for the World Championships. The cohesiveness and dynamism were fantastic. With a core composed by superstars like LeBron, 'Melo, and the finals mvp, you can at least expect a my horse is bigger than yours showdown, but no, they were amazing collectively, and definitely worked as a team. I'm so glad I'll be cheering for a plausible contender this time.

It was reported a couple of days back that Queer Eye's time was up. I was in shock, totally floored. I'm a huge fan of the show and I didn't see a good enough reason for it to be canned. Thankfully, it all turned out to be false. Ugh, I almost scribbled hate mails, haha. Apparently, shortly after the rumor circulated the earth, Bravo hurriedly offered the Fab 5 a new contract. Good move, dumbass! Unless you wanted another gay network to snatch your blockbuster.

Speaking of blockbuster, I haven't really had the urge to watch movies lately. Can you believe I missed Superman? Needless to say, as well as Devil Wears Prada and The Lake House. I know, I should get my ass off the couch. But there's just nothing that inclined me to it. My brother though has been endlessly asking me to see The Descent with him this weekend. I would love to, but the last time I watched a horror flick, I had the weirdest imaginations of Japanese girls. Plus, I don't think I've been convinced enough.d=

K, enough of this chain thing. Got the lame idea from this new game show on GSN. Yes, I watch GSN, there goes a solid indication that I have such a boring life. Anyway, the hair above my eyes are growing yet again, as well as my fem beard. I gotta find the tweezer and clean up. Gee, the cons of a woman. I have to catch up on some wrestling and X games too, so I better get going. Have a great weekend, honeybunnies!

My Social Life = dunzo!

I think I just had the most boring summer of my life.

Ow, shoot! It's not over yet. We're only half way through. Fuckge!

The plans remain as is. With all the unexpected expenses that parked our front door, there was no way for us to enjoy the season somewhere else. The heat here is sickening! But no matter how pissed I am right now, I have no other option but to stay home, and find something else to entertain myself with. Reality TV has been serving me fine, ermm, some BBQs too and the backyard pool. But that is sooooo wallpaper-ish. I want some nightlife! I want some new friends, some parties! I want my social life back!

*whew*

That was some rant. Excuse this child, she's currently a loner. I need some sugar. Later!