What I love about my mom is that she finances my Beatles obsession. Mwahahahahaha :)
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Queen Bee, Queen Bitch
(Para Kay Issa)
The girl is a bitch, I must tell you. But before somebody rips my head off for saying that, I urge you to read on so that I can explain myself, for I cannot have you (or Issa) think of me a back-stabbing friend now, can I?
The truth is, among us friends, there is nothing demoralizing or scandalous about the word “bitch.” If anything, it is an honest-to-goodness COMPLIMENT.
So, how is it like to be paid with that compliment? Well...
She is a lot of things, but being insincere is not one of them. If she loves you, she loves you…devotedly; if she hates you, she hates you…fatally (not that she is into physical violence, mind you).
She loves her family with passion –esteems her dad, respects her mom, adores her siblings. She talks about them with the greatest regard, and who wouldn’t when they laid for her all the groundwork of a morally-sensitive and highly-considerate rearing?
Then her extended family. Where do I start?
There is never a dull moment when she is around. Be it a simple detour to Mainlib just to have Canton, or a semi-planned vacation out of town –we would always always laugh. Together. With her.
*
I will not apologize for calling her a "bitch." Not when I mean it lovingly –not when "bitch," in this context, is just a shortcut to all of those fine qualities above, and MORE. =)
The girl is a bitch, I must tell you. But before somebody rips my head off for saying that, I urge you to read on so that I can explain myself, for I cannot have you (or Issa) think of me a back-stabbing friend now, can I?
The truth is, among us friends, there is nothing demoralizing or scandalous about the word “bitch.” If anything, it is an honest-to-goodness COMPLIMENT.
So, how is it like to be paid with that compliment? Well...
She is a lot of things, but being insincere is not one of them. If she loves you, she loves you…devotedly; if she hates you, she hates you…fatally (not that she is into physical violence, mind you).
She loves her family with passion –esteems her dad, respects her mom, adores her siblings. She talks about them with the greatest regard, and who wouldn’t when they laid for her all the groundwork of a morally-sensitive and highly-considerate rearing?
Then her extended family. Where do I start?
There is never a dull moment when she is around. Be it a simple detour to Mainlib just to have Canton, or a semi-planned vacation out of town –we would always always laugh. Together. With her.
*
I will not apologize for calling her a "bitch." Not when I mean it lovingly –not when "bitch," in this context, is just a shortcut to all of those fine qualities above, and MORE. =)
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
tragedy of it all
I just submitted my final requirement for this semester via email. Hit SEND, and voilà –kiss me, sembreak.
I remember the time when I made my first online submission. It was a reaction paper on Hamlet. I recall being so anxious that I didn’t realize I sent the paper five times (my professor told me so afterward). It was kind of embarrassing to be told off (though I’d like to believe that my professor was more amused than angry); but then again, better safe than sorry, right? :]
There’s something about online submission that always makes me nervous. At the very least, I take 15 minutes before I enter the email address of the professor; another 15 minutes to multiple-check it; a few more minutes to make sure that I’ll be attaching the right file; a minute to actually attach the file; additional 15 minutes to think about what to write on the note area (Here is my paper, Sir/Ma’am. / Should I be friendly? / It’s our last paper, should I say thanks? / Should I say how much I enjoyed the semester? / What if I didn’t? / Should I lie? / Or what the hell, can I just say nothing at all?! ); and if I did decide to say something for propriety’s sake, there must be 20 more minutes to check the grammar; and finally, a good extra 30 minutes to contemplate on whether to truly click the SEND button or not. In the end, after all of these perusing, how must I react should I realize that the tragedy is finding out that the professor DID NOT receive anything at all? Kill me now? Oh God.
But thankfully, that hasn’t happened to me yet; and that’s possibly why the whole process is all the more scary for me because it constantly makes me wonder when my dreaded first time is going to be. HA!
In every submission, there is a deadline –so the most important thing is that you submit the paper before the deadline; If you miss it, you’re dead (not really dead dead, but dead INComplete, or dead tres/cingco; I haven’t really heard of dead DROP but for all you know it might be possible –or dead KICK OUT though that’s probably going overboard). Therefore, if, in your worst luck, your professor failed to receive your paper –then Dear me, may you R.I.P.
Though, of course, you realize you can’t seriously die just yet. You will probably curse the computer, curse the internet, curse your e-mail, curse yourself, or curse your professor, but you can’t rest (certainly NOT in peace) unless you found a way to prove to your professor that you did send that paper on time. In any case, what a real bummer, no?
I remember the time when I made my first online submission. It was a reaction paper on Hamlet. I recall being so anxious that I didn’t realize I sent the paper five times (my professor told me so afterward). It was kind of embarrassing to be told off (though I’d like to believe that my professor was more amused than angry); but then again, better safe than sorry, right? :]
There’s something about online submission that always makes me nervous. At the very least, I take 15 minutes before I enter the email address of the professor; another 15 minutes to multiple-check it; a few more minutes to make sure that I’ll be attaching the right file; a minute to actually attach the file; additional 15 minutes to think about what to write on the note area (Here is my paper, Sir/Ma’am. / Should I be friendly? / It’s our last paper, should I say thanks? / Should I say how much I enjoyed the semester? / What if I didn’t? / Should I lie? / Or what the hell, can I just say nothing at all?! ); and if I did decide to say something for propriety’s sake, there must be 20 more minutes to check the grammar; and finally, a good extra 30 minutes to contemplate on whether to truly click the SEND button or not. In the end, after all of these perusing, how must I react should I realize that the tragedy is finding out that the professor DID NOT receive anything at all? Kill me now? Oh God.
But thankfully, that hasn’t happened to me yet; and that’s possibly why the whole process is all the more scary for me because it constantly makes me wonder when my dreaded first time is going to be. HA!
In every submission, there is a deadline –so the most important thing is that you submit the paper before the deadline; If you miss it, you’re dead (not really dead dead, but dead INComplete, or dead tres/cingco; I haven’t really heard of dead DROP but for all you know it might be possible –or dead KICK OUT though that’s probably going overboard). Therefore, if, in your worst luck, your professor failed to receive your paper –then Dear me, may you R.I.P.
Though, of course, you realize you can’t seriously die just yet. You will probably curse the computer, curse the internet, curse your e-mail, curse yourself, or curse your professor, but you can’t rest (certainly NOT in peace) unless you found a way to prove to your professor that you did send that paper on time. In any case, what a real bummer, no?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
On Psychology
After today's lesson, I've concluded to myself that:
I don’t care how big the name of Sigmund Freud was. I think, albeit his genious, he was nevertheless a sick, embittered, EGOtistical chauvinist.
Seriously, penis envy? The nerve of him.
I don’t care how big the name of Sigmund Freud was. I think, albeit his genious, he was nevertheless a sick, embittered, EGOtistical chauvinist.
Seriously, penis envy? The nerve of him.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
3-in1 plus 1, Happy Kaarawan!
By God, my friends are never boring. It doesn't even matter where we are (or what we eat) --we could be in AS-CAL pigging out on siomai or isaw, or we could stray far in the malls opting for Italian's --fun and madness would always be a given when I’m in the company of these kickass people. Like the other day we were all in Cubao to celebrate Aly and Chel’s bday. To say that the house party was FUN would be a SHAMEFUL UNDERSTATEMENT. Chel’s parents weren’t around, while Aaron a.k.a Chel’s indifferent brother couldn’t have cared less about what we were doing. In essence you could guess that the poor house was left at our mercy. R-A-W-R! Just imagine the kid from Home Alone, only we're a group instead of a kid --a group of rambunctious kids who would turn the house around by the time the adults get back. Real mature. ;)
1. All together now :)
2. Cory and Ninoy?
3. The Impostors
4. Ewicka's Bukas Luluhod din ang mga Tala moment. First time to dishwash ng eredera HAHA :)
5. Stop piracy, you guys! :))
I, therefore, conclude that (1) we're a bunch of happy people (2) we're a bunch of happy, glutton people, and (3) we're a bunch of happy, glutton, pro-piracy people. Oh yeah, sue us.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
???
Posting this just because it reminds me of Jed and Aly who laughed so hard at me when I wrote on the wall: You really turn me on. xoxo
What? I was quoting his lyrics! Get your mind out of the gutter, you! :]
Sunday, July 12, 2009
wake up, sleepy!
I ought to die.
Three days ago, I did this criminal act of falling asleep in the middle of a class. I know this post might sound so exaggerated, worse yet pointless, but really! –sleeping in class, for me, is dishonorable, and rude, and tactless, and I swear to the tortoise in Galapagos that I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that I didn’t sleep at all the night before hence when I came to class that day, I friggin’ looked like Frankenstein’s long lost daughter, devoid of life, and blood, and sleep,and gorgeousness. Half of me was struggling to keep my eyes open, while the other half was tempting me to slouch somewhere, anywhere –so I could just sleep, if not die a temporary death (temporary because I expected I should be back on my feet the next day, fully-charged).
It happened in my Psychology class. Our lesson was on Multiple Personality Disorder; since our professor was feeling a little under the weather that day, she decided to just put on a documentary rather than conduct the usual teacher-in-front lecture setup. I was listening attentively at first; I really was! I could even tell you that a younger Sally Field was mentioned in passing as she played Sybil, the girl with MPD. Then thirty minutes later, at around 12 noon, while the tape was still playing, our professor left the room. My eyes were already drooping that time and no amount of self-pinching would shake off my drowsiness. Hence I closed my eyes with a promise to myself that I would readily open them again the minute the professor walked back in to the room. The only problem was when I opened them again, to my horror, it was already 12:55! TWELVE FIFTY FIVE!!! Fuck the stupid, useless, good-for-nothing clock. Only five more minutes left before dismissal. To add to my embarrassment, I saw my prof looking at me from the front and I just knew that she knew that I knew that I slept on her! Dear me, it was so embarrassing I wanted to jump out of the window, if only it wasn’t barred. I slept on a professor, holy crap! –a professor who teaches capably and one with an MA and a PhD to go with it. No decent soul sleeps on a professor with such powerful titles. People like them just don’t spend half of their lives studying only to be slept on by their students.
I am horrible.
I am mean.
I am rude.
I am appalling.
I am nasty.
I am disrespectful.
I am bad-mannered.
I am crude.
I am tacky.
I am disappointing.
I was sleepy.
I slept.
I did not mean to.
I am sorry. :(
Three days ago, I did this criminal act of falling asleep in the middle of a class. I know this post might sound so exaggerated, worse yet pointless, but really! –sleeping in class, for me, is dishonorable, and rude, and tactless, and I swear to the tortoise in Galapagos that I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just that I didn’t sleep at all the night before hence when I came to class that day, I friggin’ looked like Frankenstein’s long lost daughter, devoid of life, and blood, and sleep,
It happened in my Psychology class. Our lesson was on Multiple Personality Disorder; since our professor was feeling a little under the weather that day, she decided to just put on a documentary rather than conduct the usual teacher-in-front lecture setup. I was listening attentively at first; I really was! I could even tell you that a younger Sally Field was mentioned in passing as she played Sybil, the girl with MPD. Then thirty minutes later, at around 12 noon, while the tape was still playing, our professor left the room. My eyes were already drooping that time and no amount of self-pinching would shake off my drowsiness. Hence I closed my eyes with a promise to myself that I would readily open them again the minute the professor walked back in to the room. The only problem was when I opened them again, to my horror, it was already 12:55! TWELVE FIFTY FIVE!!! Fuck the stupid, useless, good-for-nothing clock. Only five more minutes left before dismissal. To add to my embarrassment, I saw my prof looking at me from the front and I just knew that she knew that I knew that I slept on her! Dear me, it was so embarrassing I wanted to jump out of the window, if only it wasn’t barred. I slept on a professor, holy crap! –a professor who teaches capably and one with an MA and a PhD to go with it. No decent soul sleeps on a professor with such powerful titles. People like them just don’t spend half of their lives studying only to be slept on by their students.
I am horrible.
I am mean.
I am rude.
I am appalling.
I am nasty.
I am disrespectful.
I am bad-mannered.
I am crude.
I am tacky.
I am disappointing.
I was sleepy.
I slept.
I did not mean to.
I am sorry. :(
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