Saturday, April 23, 2011

Squee Srsly

Once upon 15 or so years ago. I was in super love. Insane, crazy stalker, extinction-event inducing LOOOOOVE. Reality and Imagination aside-- we were MFEO in Classic Infatuation and Assumption 101. To this day, He is and will forever be my favorite frustration because NOTHING HAPPENED. I was a young, immoral Heidi-Ho and I think I had my chances but conscience and circumstance held me up and I'm mighty proud I didn't go out of my way to cross the Crush to Something Else border because there are things I really wouldn't do or maybe I am chickenshit when it really counts or maybe I do have a better grasp of myself than I would give myself credit for. Today I am content to just talk about him and what could have been, like it was my own personal Casablanca.

Back to now. I'm feeling better. Nothing has majorly changed in my situation. I'm still broke, Mom's still sick, People are still dysfunctional but I'm handling things better. I don't know, maybe I got tired of being depressed but I'm stepping up. Slowly slowly. One thing I'm sure of, there are a lot of things I need to think about and discern. I feel this whole episode is important because I'm supposed to discover something. The set-up has a lesson. This is why I am observing and going inward more.

This Lent, my sister has organized our petition via lenten practice. First time we are willingly going on Visita Iglesia. At the last minute, my best friend Trish decides to join. Trish btw, KNOWS who I'm talking about above because our friendship bloomed as we both struggled with our own personal frustrated loves. And while we moved on, we still have our shits and giggles while we reminisce moments about the above. Her joining the group is significant, now that I think about it. Squee unfolding, we did our Visita. It was a fine experience. It was solemn and while we all were lazy catholics, it was great finding out how the practice was all about. Personally, I prayed for my intentions but I found that listening inwardly felt more to the occasion. While I was doing this, one thought did come up that will make sense in the next paragraph or so. At one particular church, I thought of my OTC ( that's One True Crush to you since I'm feeling like 12 right now.). Just a wondering actually. I thought of what I could recall about what I thought I knew about how this person behaves during Lent. Nothing sordid really. It was just a thought. Brought about by association with him and this church/ former school and I swear, this person doesn't invade my thoughts as it used to be. It was one of those stray random and now very rare occasions.

Now on to next and last church. It was by far the best set-up, they had the blessed sacrament in the garden, the church itself had murals for the stations of the cross, there were funny moments because we couldn't reconcile our station pamphlets with the murals ( we later find out that there have been 3 revisions to the stations and while we had the latest, the murals were done in the traditional fashion hence the confusion) but we got it done. Obligations accomplished, Valerie and her family have moved on ahead, Trish and I kept our slow pace as we moved along and talked about something when my eyes focused on, and zeroed on what was up ahead.  And moving toward us.

Then, blurry turned a bit clearer..15 years ago, I have trained my brain and eyes to locate my crush in the middle of a zombie horde... so my eyes locked on before I had the chance to realize what was happening. Then like it used be, TIME. MOVED. SLOWLY.

I shit you not on the dramatics. We can have a pot of coffee over my numerous episodes of timestop with respect to this man. And yup. There he was. As cute and fresh and adorable as ever. Walking up His eyes were on lock down to mine. My thoughts were in the following order in the span of 3 seconds:

1) Is that?..omg.
2) LOOK AWAY! pretend hes not there... GAH! hes LOOKING AT ME!
3) Does he still even recognize me ( OH SHIT. I look terrible. Dammit! I didn't wear make up. I'm shiny, in a stupid T-shirt --why did I listen to Trish? I should've have NOT dressed down) OH NO, he's staring..
4) Yup, he's placing my face. He's maybe reconciling who this creature is with Who I was... omg. I look like shit and yes, I look like shit. He couldn't possibly still recognize me. But he's still looking ..
5) Damn. he's looking good.
6) SMILE! ugh. Don't look distressed and we are about to...oh shit.

"HI!" *wave*

Did he say HI back? I think. Maybe... Oh. his wife looks better.. Is that his wife? She looks.. different. Walk ON BITCH. .KEEP WALKING! Triccia, at this point, is making gasping, twittering sounds. I know shes got this really really WHOA.OMG. look on her face now that she never could hide. WALK FASTERRRR... but natural walk.Grasp Trish. Act natural.. walk walk walk....

Then when the coast was clear. We were both. OMG. What the hell? UNBELIEVABLE!!!!!!! Of course, I just happened to be Trish when this happened. Of all the people in a group of 8, the I was with the one person who would grasp the significance of the walk by, like it was the Second Coming. Yup, shits and giggles all around until we got home. 

All that crazy 15 years ago DIDN'T come back. I am NOT in throes of love over this guy all over again. But I was smiling again. Seriously. SMILING and for once, I'm not thinking of my problems. We weren't talking about depressing things, I wasn't pretending to be Ok. I really was OK and I was happy and it felt like a gift.  It felt.. dare I say it?.. like a sign. Of what? EWAN. But based on previous history, the company I was keeping, the timing, the thoughts, the effect? Its a SIGN. ( Our favorite word. Trish if she be reading this, would be laughing down to her toes)

What is the message? I don't know yet. I'm still thinking about it. It could be a message that I shouldn't worry--"Here", God said, "Something to make you squee a bit as I can't drop Ryan Gosling in front of you". It could be " PLEASE STOP YOUR MISERY OVERLOAD. Ayan tuloy, you looked like crap when you should have been *casual spectacular*", It could be "See? wise choice you did back then. You have been a good girl and here's a reminder of HOW GOOD A GIRL you have been. Keep it up! *Godly Thumbs Up* " or it could be "No, contrary to what you thought and see in pictures, this man IS STILL HOT and yes, you are STILL ALIVE to notice", or its a reminder of what I used to be like. what I am now and the clue is something about that time and space that I need for today.

Whatever it is. I am GLAD for the distraction. Something to think about that isn't dark. A bit of squee to kick misery in the nuts. But all in all,  I am still the same chickenshit girl *smirk*

PS. Trish POV:. According to her, while we were walking she noticed him and was about to nudge me with a "Oh look, Doesn't he look like..", Then he smiled and "IT IS!!" and then we passed, I said Hi! and he went "Hi!" and I walked on by and she was all brainblitz "OMFGWTHBBQ! what the hell just happened?? why didn't we stop? why is she still walking on??" Hahahahahah! yes, chickenshit :D

Monday, April 11, 2011

Stuck in shitsville

I am in deep shit. 
I wrote and rewrote how I will open this blog ten times and that basically summarizes where I am at right now. I can't believe I am in this shithole phase of my life without any provocation from me so it sincerely riles me up even more. Well, its better than being depressed and weepy. I have lost some days already being so caught up in misery that luckily some sense still gets hold of me. To deliberately steer my mind away from more depression, I have taken to some stuff that feed little squee into this black hole in my life:
1) I finally took the time to read and finish the Hunger Games trilogy. That was a good read ( though I'm not too hot about the 3rd book but I tell myself, it could've had a Stephen King ending and I would just get a hatchet and off myself.
2) I'm now downloading Megaquake 10 NatGeo special ( yes. I love planet killers. REALLY.)
3) I dug out my Justified season 1 DVD and let 'er rip. I am in love with you, Raylan!!
4) May 3rd: the next Sookie book comes out. Finally, some resolution. ( I hope. )

I think I'll need more baby squee things though.The last month has been this immense clusterfuck of bad that right now, I'm still quaking if I should right it down. But like I did promise myself that this blog is some sort of therapy for me. Might as well. Here goes. Brace for super epic turbulent melodrama.

Mom has cancer. Aaaaand its stage 4, maybe all ready spreading and doing bad things. Aaaand I feel so helpless. And angry. And guilty. And sad. And alone. And more helpless. And depressed because there is nothing. I. can. do. Nothing. nothing. none. nada. niente. :(

My hands are shaking while I write because it is painful for me. I cannot imagine how I am going to possibly survive all of this. I just imagine whats due to pass and I am shitting myself. Along side all this fear, I am also fucking angry. Angry because stupidity happened and is still happening. No one can drive me batshit insane like Mom. One of the things that I totally HATE about this whole thing is that significant portions of my misery can be traced to her actions and choices in life. I really don't want to judge but it blows my mind when i think about what I am being obligated to live with, what now involves me when I tried so hard to live my own life as separate from whatever she is up to. Trust me when I say not only am I buried with the fallout of her previous selfish actions, she is currently consuming my very limited sanity points with her fantastic WTF? impositions, And she's already assigning me with obligations that will last my lifetime.  I think about it a lot nowadays. Could I have managed to change anything? I really don't know if I could have. I would say honestly even if I could travel back in time, the effort would be wasted.

Even if I know I shouldn't. I feel so guilty. I feel guilty for all the anger I'm feeling alongside. My guilt is as strong as the anger I'm feeling. Logic says to stop feeling guilty, is to stop feeling angry. Now that I have been processing for some time now and what stumps me is I cant stop being angry. Specially when I cannot justify at all everything that led up to this. I'm not mad at her cancer but I am furious that this is forcing me to confront the reality of the consequences of everything shes been doing, its forcing me to confront the reality that I am woefully inadequate to handle this and that's what makes this situation absolutely intolerable. Now, not only will she have to deal with it, everyone around her has to deal with it. I am raging at the thought I have to deal with it. This is all her fault, why am I the one suffering? With every complaint, I feel guilty. With a run down of all her issues pressing down on me, its truly comically ridiculous in scope and weight, and yet I feel guilty. The cancer is ravaging more than her body. It is the fan that drives all the shit in up to our faces. I can't blame the fan. I'm blaming the shitter. If her shit was nice and tidy, then we wont be beset with so much muck raking. The only explanation I'm getting is my mother has absolutely no foresight whatsoever. I feel guilt that I am not as good daughter as I should be but I don't know anyone who has to deal with this much either. I should be there comforting her and making her feel safe but right now I can't. Maybe I'm already doing as much as I could but it doesn't feel its enough because the pressure is still there. My personal survival instincts are kicking in and I want so badly to just say its horribly unfair for me to squarely shoulder this. For even thinking of myself first, I feel guilty. I feel guilty for every little thing I am writing right now. And I really hate it.

And I am immensely sad. Aside from obvious things, I feel so sorry for myself. I feel this dirty icky pity for me that just grosses me out. I wade in sucky emo sentiment that its because I love so much that everything matters. the good, the bad, the very bad. I do have this great ocean of love for Mom that basically assures that for everything she does that annoys me, I can't strangle her. I can't cut her out of my life even when she hurts me so much I feel I can easily justify it. Even if the option is open to turn away and not look back. I can't. If I could do just one thing impulsively, I would, no question, take her place. Not only do I get to save her, its the perfect escapist fantasy--It sounds so good instead of all this uncertainty. I am most certain of how I will be. I know I can handle the cancer. I am insured if something strikes me down so I will not be financially wanting, I don't care where I'll be buried. I don't care if you bake and toss my ash anywhere. I have no spawn to worry about and I know everyone dear to me can move on nicely. Ok, my dogs will be sad, but bacon cures all pain for them. I'm a totally cheap and easy date for that morbid occasion. But as I see it, "Too easy", God says for my character apparently is too weak and hence needs more building.  Here's the ultimate crazy question. Do I love her enough to sit here with quiet acceptance and take it all in as it comes. As is. While the Titanic sinks slowly. Right now, I really don't know where to get the motivation. Hence the spin cycle of fear, anger, sad and stuck.

This is the hardest time of my life. I have no awesome answer to what to do with the above but wish I get some clarity, peace of mind, strength, and win the lottery for compensation. P500Million ought to make it tolerable.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

That girl

I used to like PP. I recall that I wanted a parasol and a pink car because she was just so darn cute. I also thought it was cool that she had those little men come to her rescue all the time because Dick Dastardly just couldn't help picking on poor old PP. Forgive me but i was only 5 at that time. I vote by color.

Later, I despised everything helpless, sniveling, shaking like a leaf, death by stiff wind, drama queen. I mean, c'mon, Helen Keller made do with LESS! Good thing I developed this thing called tolerance and also I realized that no one, NO ONE, not even Xena and her bangs can be strong all the freaking time. I also spent time with Xena types and they're no fun as well. Stressful I say cause everything is a fight. I suppose, its hard to display strength when making coffee and watching TV, so the whirlwind around them is always an opposition. 24/7 battle is tiring. No wiwi breaks even.

On a rough day like this, I wish for balance. I want the pink parasol and the huge kitty eyes of Puss in boots at the same time I want to be assured that if I can napalm the street with barely a huff and a puff, i could! This bambi-eyed harbinger of doom just wants to sit in front of her PC and slay orcs online and don't really want to deathstar the planet with you in it. Honest & pinky swears.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


After much frustration and 3 hours spent refreshing ticketleap's page. I finally FINALLY got tickets. I hear that there were still 4day passes available but considering I'm literally fighting with a gazillion geeks for it, I opted for the daily passes.


Friday, February 4, 2011

Happy Chinese New Year! Go full metal rabbit!

Go ahead. Make my New Year.
Firstly, I am barely Chinese. Maybe a toenail. One fleck of DNA.  If I recall my ancestral tree, my mainland lolo, Tan Buco arrived during the time of the Spaniards and the first thing he does is renounce his chinese ways to become Pedro Tan to be able to marry a local mestiza. And for 6 generations of Pedros later, we come to me. Yes its that skinny a link and  Yes, there is a Pedro in every gen except on my branch. Maybe some cousin Tan out there is named Pedro, you happen on this blog, your name right there is tradition! Don't break it, pass it on dude.

On the subject of tradition, I ironically have my own. Ironic because I infamously relish being quite contrary, there are things I notice for myself that work splendidly for me so I continue the trend until it becomes my personal norm. Like for example, I can never ever wear black on New Years. Literally cant. I did once long ago and regretted it for an entire year for I attributed all misery to the fact I wore black. Now, I'm not saying that nothing bad ever happened while I wore a different color but all things considered, I still get off pretty lightly or am able to get back on my feet faster. Another thing I do which is quite common to all but I take mine to neurotic extremes is I should have money on my person on New years. Like stuffing money in my underwear ( like a stripper!) and wallet. Again, there was one year, I couldn't get to the bank. I had ziltch on me. And goddamn, I was always needing that year. Afterwards, I made sure even if I got scratches from having crisp bills in my bra, FIGHT!! At least may pambili ng band aid afterwards. Seriously though, ever since I make sure I do the stripper thing, never lacking here. There must be something to it, see?

Now this chinese new year, I do celebrate even though only my surname is Chinese. Must do something special so special things will happen. One personal must is to have happy people around. They bless your dwelling and bring good energy so I had some friends over for what was supposed to be a little pica, escalated into a feasting where I needed to browbeat people to eat!more!tikoy! I also cleaned the whole house then nothing must be cleaned until Sunday if i can help it ( I cheat a bit with the Dog pee cause nothing good ever comes out of letting dog pee sit for 3 days). Which is why after midnight of CNY eve, all trash is still here, cleverly maintained until I can hoist them off on sunday. So you don't throw out your luck, you see. Gross but I'm prepared so its not all THAT bad. Now to think of it, is why one mandatory is to keep flowers or nice smelling things all around to keep us sane while we wait. After all the prep, I'm extra perceptive of what happens on New Years itself as it sets the tone for the rest of the year. Jan 1st was exceptional, yesterday was a reinforcement. I was laughing way upto 5am when the party ended and up again to dinnertime when I had Trish over for dinner and we were laughing like hyenas, went to bed in a good mood and woke up to Squeakor announcing that his game was released on iTunes! AND my Babydog Sauron maybe a DaddyDog soon!! Continuing what was already so awesome, today at the office I found out that new car is coming next week at the earliest! *Squee!*

I've been reading all over that this Metal Rabbit year is good for us Metal Pigs. I'm feeling really positive considering all the portents I've been noticing. Finally, I got an oddly cryptic message from a chinese client when I greeted him for the new years. He texted back "Do good deeds". OK. Now here is me thinking "Who does that? I greet you and you text me a yoda message?" So I'm naturally taking this as a sign. My own message for the year. As you know, what you give out, comes back twofold.

Here is me sharing to you what brought me much joy and squee as my good deed for the day:


Poof! goes your panties. Look at that killer wink! *puddles*  I hope you took out your bills. hee hee!

Monday, January 31, 2011

Get me out of this Plateau Universe!

My misery began when I switched food suppliers. My new supplier brought a digital scale where we established a baseline. And imagine my shock when I saw 127.2 on it. WTF! My old scale was soo off to begin with (my liar of a scale said I was 120 already. Mangy stupid thing!!) Much bad words aside, I just told myself that at least whatever I really was before, I already shed 10 pounds off it and things are just going to get better.

7 days later: 124? 125! That CANT BE RIGHT! My 3 pound pomeranian eats MORE than me these days!
ARG! I've been diligent on my diet specially now, my new food supplier has improved my cuisine significantly, the trade off is the fooking scale hasn't moved at all. And added even! And I suspect also teleported me into another dimension where I am supposedly delusional.
Scene from last Sunday morning before any food and after toilet:
Me on Scale: LOOOOK ITS 125 AGAIN! *wails*
Squeekor ( looks at scale from ground level): " no its 120"
Me ( incredulous and looks MORE closely): Na-ah, its 125! *wail some more*
Squeekor: No I am telling you, its 120! Are you saying I'm lying to you?"
Me ( Standing straight and only my head cocked down to look.. REALLY LOOK): " im not saying that you are but I'M SEEING THE NUMBERS AND ITS 125! ( and I really was!)
Squeekor: " And my eyes are closer to the numbers and its 120! Why don't you believe me? You have bad eyesight and you think I'M LYING TO YOU?"
Discussion dissolves into who's lying, who has better/worse eyesight and I'm messing with my center of gravity etc etc etc. SIGH.
120 - 125 doesn't change the fact that I haven't moved into the teen department yet! I have been reading up on diet plateaus and tips ranged from varying diet to eat more (done!). cheat a little ( an Oatmeal cookie), add exercise, drink water ( 1 liter a day now),  See, the only thing I haven't tried yet was exercise and I would too, if only my knee would heal back to normal. Clothes are fitting better but there are some pants that I still cant get past my thighs. Damn this metabolism. How I miss the days when cutting down a bit already made a difference. Now I'm practically eating the cleanest and healthiest I have ever had in my life and my body decides to give me hell. 

Things to do:
1) Instead of formal exercise, this week, will take over house cleaning and laundry instead of having it jobbed out. 
2) Spacing out my meals more. 
3) My liar scale is sentenced to death. As soon as able, will get a digital one.
4) Walk about more. ( I "exiled" myself from starbucks and going out so I don't get the least tempted but I guess every little activity should help now)
This week is the last of my food program and will be cooking for myself again. If i don't lose at least a pound by new supplier, I think I invested in a lemon. Maybe the meal plan isn't all that good. Sad though, the portions are better and omg, the food actually has taste! But per reckoning, when I was eating the cardboard sludge of 2 weeks ago, pounds were coming off. Noooo. I dont want to do that again. 
*Stabs scale and sniff*

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

SB Diet: Day 9/14

10 pounds off confirmed today by my cheater scale!!! *confetti*
Our efforts are going very well, even the dreaded Saturday Game Night didn't tempt me one bit ( WATER!! LOTS OF WATER!!! Roselle also didn't show up with something sinful) and Sunday Dinner diversion ( Spam night. 3 pieces only ). Helps that I load up on water and my usual constant enablers are supportive.

I take it its a sign that my body is getting used to the prison portions that I didn't realize I left my dinner at the ofc until I was way past the point of return. Meaning I wasn't thinking of food. FOR ONCE! *more confetti!*

Things haven't changed much with my current food supplier, its still mostly tasteless and bland. Only occasionally winning. One dish would be good. The rest I just eat so I don't accidentally bare my fangs  on my office mates. OK there was this ONE OCCASION only. One of my colleagues was in my face with sugared walnuts, insisting I need to eat it. I was mentally insane with hunger as I haven't had my bland breakfast of egg and I can smell the damned walnuts. Even with a polite "no thank you", the walnuts were still within licking distance and to add insult to injury, she mocked my lousy breakfast. BARK! FANGS! HISS! Near bloodshed at the Pantry! Aside from that incident ( we made up later. luckily, we are friends and she understands I'm hulk!smash! before food), there isn't a body count to speak of.

Is it showing? the 10 pounds lost? my face seems a bit less cheeky, I now slide into my fat slacks, and only 4 bitch pants wont close..yet. Energy wise, I'm not faintish but I sleep earlier even when my day is now definitely fueled by coffee. I haven't had a food dream since last week. I also am not thinking of food even when my wonderful sister seems to delight in texting me back to whatever question it may be with where she's eating and what she's eating. That is significant given that before, it only takes an idea of something to set me off on a crave fest. 

To make sure my progress continues ( we need to lose another 15 ), I contacted another supplier who hopefully will pick up the taste slack and keep me on the jump start, before I finally transition to my own cooking.

It's been 15 minutes now since I finished my own dinner and I'm not looking longingly at my ref for anything else to attack. I think I'll be ok.