I got this message from a text-happy UNLI user...

sad realities:
d problem with boys, they can make u believe that they love u evn if they dont.
d problem with girls, they can make u believe they dont love you even if they do.

I'm adding a piece of my own:

saying goodbye is dying little by little every day
wiping tear after tear with a promise it will be the last to be shed
feeling like your heart just stopped
and knowing every word you write is cliche and too mushy
but still writing it down anyway..

So okay. Do I sound heartbroken? Well, in truth, am not. But I'm convincing myself that I am, because my life's a big barren of brokeness anyway, and I'm too numbed now to feel it...I think. I keep asking myself, why don't I feel anything grand for the *ehem* guys I am supposed to really like? Is there something wrong with me that when I get bored, I can say goodbye so easily and move on???

So now, with the Brit working out all week, and someone saying goodbye for the meantime, I'm bored. No more school, no dance yet, though back to the office chorale, no gimmiks scheduled...hay...my mind is slowly degenerating into a big mush of corny-ness.

Another One for the Dustbin

Though it hurts my pride to accept it, maybe you're just not for me. I know you just need a friend for now, and it's all that I can be for you. You don't have doors to close because you've never opened them for me, so now, I'm the one closing my doors to you.

I can't sit and wait for you to look at me and realize I'm your "The One". My life would be so totally wasted searching for things that may not even be there. The energy and emotions I've invested on you are enough, and I've reached my limit. I can see you're just needy, and weak and not wanting to be alone. While I'd gladly provide you with some entertainment, I'm not a convenience store open 24/7.

I'm your friend, but on my definition and bounderies of friendship. Sure, you can call me selfish for now, but I can see where this one-way avenue is heading. I'm stopping now and backing out while I can still find my way.

So sorry if your messages will remain unreplied to, or if my shoulder won't be there for you to lean on. I've been stupid enough, believing it would all work out somehow. I won't be here forever to wipe away your tears, so we might as well get used to it.

I made it!

Excuse me...I'm just passing by to sing..

I made it through the wilderness....

Looks like we made it!!!

I did it my way!

Hallelujiah!

Well, the compre exams is a thing I can now file under Stressful Events of my life. I'm not particularly hoping to get super high grades, seeing how I studied the last few days (online chatting with errrrr, people). The most important thing now is surviving it. And boy, did I just barely survived it!

Incidents:

- My carbonated water burst. Papers and folders got wet. Fortunately, the finished ones were already stored inside the folder and all that got wet were my printouts and the current question I was working on.

- Bad timing of LBM. In the middle of the second question of the FIRST subject.

So now, the only thing standing between me and that masteral degree is the result of that compre exams. But I'm not gonna worry myself sick over that. It's outta my hands. For now, I'm concetrating on pursuing other enjoyable aspects of my life. Next in line: Korean lessons.
And yes, dating.

Cramming cramming chatting

I must be crazy, or else hopelessly addicted..

What am I doing chatting up the night when I have to study for an exam? My lame excuse is that I'm online anyway, and squeezing google dry takes such a lot of time.

So okay. There are interesting men I've met via the much TEC-talked about Faceparty (unabashed advertising). However, I'm still very wary with the details I give and the flattery I receive. Hahaha. I wonder how come Filipino men don't look at Filipina women the same way...

Oh, I forgot to mention, except for one Filipino DI in Brunei, most of my chatmates are foreigners. A Brit, a Swiss and of course, the German scholar Jed and I met in Korea last year.
In fairness, I limit my internet usage at home to between 2 to 3 hours. After that, I become a boring conversationalist.

Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. I've often thought chatting with them would be such fun, and there'll be lots of stuff to talk about. Execpt for the Brit and the German, the rest are all duh.

In contrast to the experiences of my two TEC sisters, my chat life is uneventful. I'm not expecting much from it, given how boring and prudish I can be (let's not talk about S E X baby..hahaha), and the varying time zones this planet has. The borderless concept of globalization still hasn't solved the issue on time lags. I jokingly referred to them as guy from the past and guy from the future. The Brit, though, swore he found me so cute being a goody-two-shoes, and appreciates my sense of humor. However, I would rather up to be perceived as a tigress than a hamster, if you get the analogy.

The bright side here is, as I've very clearly stated "no perverts please" in my profile, I rarely get indecent proposals and sex-starved maniacs on my buddy list. There are, however, the really really dense (and thick-faced) ones, and I had to block them in my YM. One word of advise: NO to Middle-Eastern and African men.

Anyway, it's two days to go before the Sunday exams. Some of our classmates have requested a deferment of the exam owing to the limited time to study. But I'd rather get it over with, so I can get it out of my system and never have to think about it again.

The Brit asked me this morning what my plans are after the exams. It got me thinking, heck, my life's so on-hold I don't even have plans for Monday. Maybe with exams out of the way I can devote some time learning the ropes of chatting.

As Jopen said..."Go for gold"

12 hours of torture

I don't like to play games, so maybe I should end this, because something might get broken, and it just might be my heart.

But knowing me, I might just continue to trod on, unmindful of my pride, ever so fooled by vanity.

------------

A sentimental thought, even after 12 hours of torture, err, exams. My fingers are disfigured from writing non-stop, and I have a splitting head ache not even 2 capsules of Advil can alleviate. If there is one thing on my mind (aside from the pesk that's residing in my Yahoo! Messenger buddy list) is whether I would pass the exams with some dignity left.

On hold

The compre exams starts this Sunday…so what am I doing online, updating my blog, my flickr account, my website etc?

Honestly, my brain could only store so much.

Besides, the temptation of chatting with, uh, friends is strong.

Plus, I AM STUDYING. I’m surfing and downloading documents from the web...which by the way, eats up 80% of my time. Already, I am buried under tons of printed materials. Tomorrow's a Saturday, and I've dedicated the whole day for review. Wish me luck, cross my fingers.

Uh, No time to think about boys at all.

Well, except last night, Fate dealt me a bad set of cards and I managed to, yes, encounter MFXD. Good thing Kel, my colleague was with me...but since my companion sleeps once he's settled in, I did the only thing I could. I chatted non-stop. Well, I did allow Kel to throw in some insights once in a while. Har har har.

The rest of my lovelife's on hold. For now.

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow...

Good for OFWs, there's such a thing as Absentee Voting.

Could there be a Valentine's Day date by proxy? Hahaha. The boylets are dispersed from Aparri to Jolo. The MSG is in Ilocos, planting rice, I suppose. The other is in Palawan, twiddling his thumb, I bet. The newest (who is still a secret) is somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, and I'm hoping he'd at least remember to call me tomorrow. A friend of ours is cheering the "romance", but I have to bite my tongue for now, lest I end up bitter and blue. I don't want to assume anything, but I do feel the faint stirrings of "kilig", but then again, the true determinant would be longetivityy...how long he'll stay in my list.

So much for a green, thriving and healthy lovelife.

Girls Wanna Have Fun!

The night I finally got to see the inside of a noraebang! Hehehe. Of course, Uchi brought along her romanized lyrics, so they (my favorite Korean songs were limited to MISA, All About Eve, Full House and LIP OST) were able to hit the notes despite the hangeul videoke. =)

Our pics..

The Good, The Bag and the Ugly...

The Good...



...Mapua Dancecom's Dance concert, Breakthrough... Went to watch last January 28 with Iyos, Dennis, Myke and her Dennis, Marc and Jambo.

The Bag...



..third installment from Mr. Shy Guy. (PS: I added the red scarf for color...)

He went home to his province, so it's bye bye time again...

The Ugly..

...this day was as ugly as some ugly days go. I composed an entry earlier, but seeing as I had just finished a Tami Hoag novel, my sentences were punctuated by too much toilet language. It began with...."It's been a shitty day..."

It really was. Imagine lining up for 6 hours to apply for your new GSIS e-card. No food allowed inside the assembly hall. I was asking where Hitler was hiding and if we would be allowed to say our prayers before they gas us.

Then back at the office, I got the feeling I couldn't leave the web alone for a day without anything going wrong. Sigh.

Seduction

It was just as well that the madness stopped. My penchance for excesses, my predeliction for adopting poor, weak and emotionally in-need men would have gotten me deeper into the hell-hole that was both intoxicating and guilt-laden.

I knew once I jump into that hole there would be little way out. I had a thousand excuses, all lame ones, but afforded me reasons to enjoy it for a while. I know it could not last. Should not even start. I don't even have the right to think it. Still, I miss the seduction of the forbidden. As always, man's greatest desire is have that which he can never have. As for my case, the excitement of being with him, as if in secret, was fodder for more. Pretending to be non-chalant when my insides were in turmoil. Spraying on the scent of flirting and hoping he'd pick it up.

Physical intimacy? No. But emotionally, the risks were getting higher. If it wasn't the case, I wouldn't have prayed to God to stop me while I can bear it. I know by myself, I cannot control it. I would react and act the way a starry-eyed romantic would. Just like in the movies, there is no right or wrong for someone in love.

But I was not in-love. I was falling prey to his seduction. How easily! He was all I had wanted in a guy...except he wasn't free.

PIKON

It's D month again. And almost every hapless single female is being preyed upon by family, so-called friends, colleagues and non-entities to get a man.

It pisses me off that too many of my "friends" think I'm so aba, kaawa-awa (pitiful) and luckless because I'm single. Many can't look past my declared "Single" status to the wonderful events in my life. Sure, I don't have a date giving me the death squeeze while walking in a crowded mall. I don't have someone to accompany me while I dig out clothes and stuff during shopping sprees. I don't have a dog at my beck and call 24/7. But those are perks of a relationship I can do well without.

Excuse me. Okay, so I'm defensive. I've turned a deaf ear to their nagging for the longest time, but I'm getting pikon at their insinuations that a single like me would be so man-starved that I would grab the first man who comes my way.

It's bad enough that society dictates a woman's role is to be a mother and a wife. To have friends point out that a life without a partner is not a life at all is worse.

If I were in a relationship, I'd have another head to count during Christmas shopping. Another cellphone number to memorize and keep beeping with constant updates as to my whereabouts. Another person to think about when making decisions. Another planner to consult everyday. Hell, my life's complicated enough.

Now, I'm seriously considering about evaluating my idea of "friends". I may have been too liberal with my definition.

(One-Woman) Salvation Army

Lately, I've been busing sulking about something - someone - that I barely had time to put my thoughts into anything worth reading. And the bad part is, he's not really someone I could talk about, or rather, should talk about. This is the pits, because being as garroulous as I am, I am filled to the brim with stories and questions and just...words.

Work is boring for now. There are too many things to do, but so routinely that being busy offers no salvation from wayward thoughts and conflicting emotions. Much as I love my job, there are days I seriously wish I'm doing something else...like being a belly dancer...Kidding aside, my fears of getting less studious and intelligent with time is preventing me from seeking a scholarship in IT.

Anyway, I wrote in my STARBUCKS DIARY (I just had to mention it, right? After all, not being a coffee-holic/caffein addict, I had to suffer palpitations for days to get this thing) yesterday that I came into a realization that I can call myself the Salvation Army..Yes, I do have a feeling that most men see me as a charity foundation aka mother hen aka little sister aka tissue paper. Most men *attracted* to me (quick, pop my head before it bloats with air!) are weak, suffering from emotionally draining relationships, in need of mother figure, a text mate, a drinking buddy. Someone to comfort them and tell them they're not doing pretty bad in life despite the series of unfortunate events that started with their birth. Someone to listen to their sob stories. Misery loves company, and these boys/men are drowning in it. The list is long, and out of respect for these pool souls, I shall not mention their names.

This latest one, I admit, left me, for a while, in emotional limbo. Because despite the warning signs, I trodded past the barriers and made myself as vulnerable. And in the end, it was I who needed salvation.