People, I am alive.

As an obsessed blogger... don't you just find it extremely annoying when you feel like you have a lot of things to write about and yet you couldn't figure out a way to convey it, much less, find not one second to start on it? I know. Hiatuses are lame. And I'm pathetic. But trust me, the reasons are valid, and no, it does not include another vaginal hemorrhage.


Who knew Humanities or Fine Arts Appreciation can make up so much of my time that I would even dare to forget about blogging? I had to visit the Dallas Arts Museum twice, listen to some Jazz music while excruciatingly resisting sleepiness, compare Ethan Hawke's modern take on Hamlet against Mel Gibson's (duh, no brainer!), AND watch Troy.. Troy, of all movies on earth!! Thank God, Brad Pitt was butt naked there a couple of times or I would have strangled my professor to death for putting me through all these torture. But fear not, 'cause the end of this treacherous course is drawing near and I simply can't wait.

Now, since I know I've left you hanging for quite sometime, how about some surveys to lighten you up? Oh come on, don't act like you don't want it.

10 things I want to do before I die

"Steer clear from the sappy and redundant. " from Vayie.


1. Visit Mindanao. Just for the heck of it.
2. Go on a safari in South Africa with my loudest friend, Michelle.
3. Try out for The Price Is Right, granted it goes on.
4. I wanna give birth, although that remains debatable.
5. Watch a huge sporting event that does that traditional (and idiotic) Mexican wave.
6. Get a Master's degree from a Top 10 university. See? I also have dreams!
7. Be a vegan... or at least, try.
8. Party in Croatia with one of my closest girlfriends, Petra.
9. Spend New Year's in Times Square. And yesss, even do the lame countdown.
10. Be awarded for something. Whatever that earns me a gold statuette.

"Interview me"

Grilling courtesy of Alternati.

1. If you were stranded in a desert island and were only allowed to bring one friend, one movie, one picture of an athlete, one DVD set of one season of one TV show, one hair/skin product and an eternal supply of one brand of chocolate... What would you bring and why? (Yes, the island has a working home theater and a fridge. hah!)
I will bring the only person I never have awkward moments with, and the one person I can count on whenever I'm starving: my brother. His kitchen skills are out of this world that I'm pretty confident that if we ever get deserted somewhere the aliens only know, he would sharply find a way to make a monkey's ass taste like the traditional beef stew. Plus, we have our own language (aka very twisted humor) that we'd be perfect for that major psycho-bonding. ... Movie? Dang, there's a lot of choices! But I think I'll go with Pulp Fiction. It's one of those movies I can never get tired of watching, and it's got that perfect Quentin combination of bloody action and sadistic comedy. Exactly what I need to scare off potential conquerors. ... As for the picture, which is a random stuff to bring in an island, haha, I guess I'll go with Tommy Robredo's backhand (click at your own risk). Mainly because that shot's hotness longevity can definitely withstand an extended stay in that island. ... I really wanted to go for Grey's Anatomy on the next one, but I'm afraid I might end up sucking my head in a puke bag just in case I ran out of tears to cry. So let's just bring Project Runway's Season Two. Santino Rice is just CLASSIC! ... And as for the beauty product, I assume sunscreen is the most sensible choice. 'Cause if I'm going to die in an island, I and my skin deserve to die beautifully. Am I right, ladies? ... Lastly, I'd love to have a lifetime supply of Twix. It's not necessarily my favorite, but it's actually not too sweet, and I easily get tired of sweet things (and that include boyfriends).


2. If you could have dinner with any four notable personalities in the world (two living and two who have bitten the dust) , who would they be, what would you guys eat and what would y'all talk about?
I would bring Nancy Grace, Mark Cuban, Lady Diana, and Eddie Guerrero to The Riverwalk in San Antonio, TX where we'll enjoy a few beers and the best beef briskets this state has to offer. We would be gleefully chatting about President Bush, Wimbledon's two-man show, The Great Khali, how boring the Spurs are, and a lot more. I would specifically interrogate them with questions that still hover my head up to this point. Such as Lady D's intuition of Prince Charles' infidelity, Cuban's disinterest in Steve Nash, Eddie's true feelings about a particular controversial storyline, and Nancy Grace's secret marriage and pregnancy (because she's a verbal monster, and I can't believe somebody dared to marry her).

3. What do you miss most, and least about the Philippines?
Ugh, there's A TON!! But to crop it to the obvious... I miss the food. I don't miss the traffic.


4. Describe in detail your ideal job. (The laws of logic, economy and physics can be disregarded in answering this question... :P )
Believe it or not, I want to work a 9-5 job. Sitting on a desk infront of the computer, with a colorful corkboard, pictures of my dogs/friends/etc., a cup of latte every 30 minutes, gossiping from neighborhood cubicles, and a workplace that doesn't require sweating. That's pretty much ideal to me. But working on field wouldn't be that bad either, especially if it allows me to snuggle with the cutest athletes, celebrities, starlets in the world.

5. How many Kai(s) does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Let's see... One to do the screwing, one to assist me with the screws, another one to hold the ladder for stability, and three more to stand by the side, with their arms folded, eyebrows raised, and furiously envying my big butt that I can not lie. :))

Now, now... if you want to get your own butt on the hot seat...

• Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.” (And leave your email.)
  
• I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
• You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
• You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
• When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

HAH, I'm done!!! YESSS! Haha, I know, it's incredibly ludicrous how updating my own blog now takes an enormous type of time and effort. But I promise, we will go back to the way we were. Until next time, my friends. Enjoy the weekend!

Randomgasms.

I'm in no mood to blog but I might fail to do so in the succeeding days due to a jampacked schedule. But as wise men say, there's no harm in trying. Hence, this pitiful attempt of catering you an entertaining update.

1) As you know, I started my first official job over the weekend. Just when I thought I wasn't gonna complain about anything, here I am again, bitching to a friend of mine, about how small my eventual hourly rate is. My jaws dropped trillions of feet somewhere near jilted planet Pluto the very second I heard that the fat check I'm ever anticipating will only exist IF Mark Cuban decided to dine in and I got to serve him. Or someone else's billionaire character wouldn't mind throwing a big fat tip in exchange of friend mozarella sticks. Otherwise, I will be stuck with such a pathetic pay that could barely supply a car with gas.


The shit to memorize. How much are we getting paid again?

Or maybe I'm just thinking way too much (like I always do). Olivia convinces me that the pay wouldn't really be that bad since we'd be serving an average of 10 tables per hour. But what if I'm in the worst of days and nobody on those 10 tables spares me a single cent? I'm done? I get nothing? Nil? Nada? Zilch? I mean, it's unfathomable to me how someone can be so satisfied by working while only relying on occasional philanthropic aftermaths. I should know, I'm a customer who heartlessly disregards the tipping arena! But I'm giving Olivia a chance to materialize her theory. I will stay, enjoy the free/discounted meals and patiently try it out. But if things don't go my way, like they all should be, I'm quitting. Just like that. *snaps*

2) That film class I told you about was unfortunately snubbed by the students that they had to cancel it. They transfered me to another Humanities course just with a different specialization. Now I have to put up with a professor whose name I can't even pronounce and a class that will talk about Mozart, Houdini, the teenage mutant ninja turtles, and everyone else in between. Oh yay, fun! :-l

3) The junk is the lone American left in the French Open singles draw (men and women). She will be facing the two-time defending champion next so I'm not entirely confident that she wouldn't be the latest casualty to this national embarrassment from Paris. But who even cares about the French Open now? Nadal turned 21 today, he's finally legal, and we can already wed anywhere in the world! Yeee. Feliz Compleanos, Rafa! Te Quiero, whatever the hell that means. :-D


How can you not love? And cream? Ok, that's gross. But seriously! :-))
4) My schedule is inconveniently indefinite at this point. All I know is that I go to school for two hours, 4 days a week and I go to work for another 2-4 hours around dinner time. I have yet to schedule classes for driving (conquering freeway phobia 101) so this Tony guy called up to apparently ask when would be the best time to start the therapy. I could barely understand a word he's saying (he has a thick Indian accent) so I passed the phone to my mother who's seemingly BFFs with those people already. Since my schedule is pretty disoriented at this point, I could only take classes in the morning except this coming Tuesday. I clearly told her that, yet I still got yelled at. I supposedly "made her look like an idiot." I really didn't get that at all.

5) I didn't wanna get into a screamfest with her again so I just quickly left and shut my door. I have been through enough tears the past couple of days that I won't waste anymore Kleenex sobbing over this unworthy fight. I'm an extraordinarily irregular bleeding woman, which explains the seldom visit of that bestial torture. But when it rains, it POURS! (Warning: TMI ahead) I never use tampons, so obviously there's only a slight margin of time in between changes using pads (with wings). I had to call my father who's at work and ask him to buy me a new pack on his way home because I was padding the frantic passage every two hours and I'm running out of clogs!! I hate to ask my father to do things like that for me, but that's the same reason why he's the best father in the whole world! (He got me the maxi, with wings, and some bonus Midol. Now tell me, you'd kill for a father like that!) And as for my mother? She kind of lightened my condition with that disposable hot pack, but after that, I got nothing else. Plus, I should have been the one congested with PMS, not her!! Anyway, after three years of constantly living together, I've finally gotten used to moms. And they will always be moms. They're cursing at you one second, and they'll be shopping shoes for you the next.


6) Is it only me or The Finals suddenly became interesting? The Spurs are gonna win it, that's basic math. But I won't write the Cavs off just like I did to Miami a year ago. (Because that ate me up. Real bad) LeBron is proably one of the most overrated superstars this league has produced in years, but there's no question that his dignified All-Star doesn't deserve any doubt from anyone... for now, at least. I'll be surprised if they go out in a sweep, but I won't be shocked if Manu Ginobli, like the goregeous killer that he is, circusses his way around King James. Now we've got ourselves a show! Spurs in, well, 6.

7) But even if I'm whining about work, school, and my period, I'm nonetheless excited about the busier days ahead. Exactly a year ago, I was enjoying the pool, grilling something bacon-wrapped, and fattening my already fat ass on the kitchen couch. And look at me now? 15 pounds lighter, in school, with a job, and a heckling schedule ahead. Trust me, I really do hate it when I hear myself complaining, that it's even crazy when I tend to imagine that it could possibly be genetic. I know, that's just me, being awesome at excuses. So, to prevent another run at 'Randomgasms' stacked with complaints, I'll be working on a list of mid-year resolutions. I have jotted a few things down, bitching included, but I have yet to figure out what else negative is there for me to eliminate. Narcissism, perhaps? Help me out. It's your only chance. ;-)

Transition Overdue

I just had to be reminded that half of my senior high batch is about to graduate by the end of spring. Ok, I'm supposed to be fully determined to be back in school, right? But my situation's slowly leaning towards the embarrassing, frustrating and pathetic. But like you, they all gave me the cliche' of it all... It's better late than never... Try until you succeed... It's better to give than to receive... (oh not that one, haha). So there I was, in a freezing Tuesday morning, discovering the humongous campus I now shall call my new second home. Eww, second home? Anyway...

I'm still hooked with the lifestyle I got accustomed with while out of school, therefore, I only got the three subjects I needed to fuel this supposed-to-be productive year with. TTH, from 9am to 2pm. Not bad! Hahaha. Fine, it's a daycare kind of schedule, but hey, I'm still recovering. Let's just think that I just got out of rehab and have only 12 hours to spend outdoors weekly. Fair enough, right? :))

I arrived at my first class -- Human Development -- 10 minutes ahead of time. Quite a way to make a first impression, eh? No wonder my professor is SO at home with me already (she calls me Kai! =p). So anyway, the first day was the usual "introduce yourself" day. I don't like that, it makes me blush, shake and stutter. But I knew I needed this course to rebuild my social skills. I'm starting to become a wallpaper, and I've never been so scared in my life. I have to regain my friendly, nice, animated being immediately, hence my over-participation the next day. Mrs. Dyer just loves me so much, she had to ask me time and time again if I'd prefer abortion to stay legal or not, if gays and lesbians deserve fair treatment, or the reason why I like bycicles more than motorcycles. I was talking too much, my classmates already know I've got a mole above my upper lip.

Next up was my Reading/English class. Before it even started, the room was already loud, courtesy of Marvin or MV or Em-vee or... anyway, he's such a clown, and it's obviously a cool thing to have someone like him who'd periodically lighten up a possibly boring course. We basically spent the hour and a half discussing our favorite movies and what materials we often love to read. Thank God, no "getting to know you" stuff. Haha, looks like this wasn't a boring one at all. And there's more... this class consists of people from Jamaica, Nepal, Britain, Africa and Baghdad! That's pretty cool, right? By the second day, I learned that English people and Jamaicans get offended by the apologetic phrase "excuse me", and that they call their fish "fishes". Haha, pretty awesome stuff! And that dude from Baghdad isn't actually an Iraqi or something. He just got home from a 3-year service and is starting to catch up on his studies. Isn't that amazing? Ha, I'll be acquainted with a real soldier! Dude, that's something else!

Then lastly, the dreaded Algebra. Not even five minutes after discussing the syllabus, we were already answering yawning and scratching scalps over fuckin' integers. Wow, this is gonna be a blast! Pfft. This is probably the only course I would have liked to giddily talk about myself. But unfortunately, the teacher -- although nice and all -- was overwhelmingly excited to teach us about her beloved numbers right away. She just couldn't wait. Oh well...

By the way, my HDEV course requires us to keep a journal for the rest of the semester. Basically be writing about various topics weekly assigned to us. That should be fun! It's like blogging, just with a pointed pen and a little more etiquette injected to it. Oh fuck, does that mean I can't curse? Damn it!!! But I'll keep you posted on my progress. For now, I bid adieu. Have an awesome weekend!

It's my birthday and I'll whine if I want to!

I was in my new school the whole day yesterday, prepping for my first nursing-doomed schoolyear when I was informed that my MATH needs major improvement. Hahahaha, laughable stuff! I wasn't even shocked. Like I've always been aware that I severely suck at it. Not that I didn't seek help, nor never attempted working on it, it's just that... Math and I are like Paris Hilton and Linday Lohan. We'll get along one day, and catfight the next. It's just never gonna work! But no matter how limited my knowledge about it is, I know I'm still capable of adding, subtracting, multiplying and even dividing whole numbers. Hahaha, seriously, I can do that. Hence my hysteria over dissatisfying scores! MATH = not college ready. Are you kidding me? I may be mathematically challenged, but my brains aren't sophomoric. I got a good score in reading and very high praises for my writing skills! I know Math is totally different, but not college ready?? Not college ready?? This is ridiculous!


But what can I do... It's not like I could bitchfight my way out of it. I have to pass Elementary Algebra, (I repeat, ELEMENTARY!) to get 3 units (Nursing prefuckinrequisite) of Algebra II or College Algebra. Man, can you imagine my numeral-loathing head revolving around these demanding subjects?? Don't even be surprised if you just heard one day, I hanged myself in the attic because of it. Like seriously. What was I even thinking when I've decided to be a nurse and ditch my dreams of becoming the next Paula Dean? What were YOU thinking?!!

But it was my birthday and I wouldn't let anything as embarrassing as this ruin my very day. Since there weren't plans of partying, I just asked my dad to drop by Walmart so we could get the usuals: orange chicken, strips with country gravy, mac and cheese and a humongous pizza for the day. Hahaha, celebrating my failure. Why not? But guess what. I'll try it just one last time. Who knows, I'll be Cady-mathlete one day. Haha, birthday girl can dream!

Before I forget... thanks to the blogger beauties who remembered to blow me kisses yesterday. Ate Clare, Jen, Bone and Jennie. And my CUZ, Hannah. You have no idea how you made my almost suicidal day. :)