Day In Day Out

I'm really getting very bored with my life. I didn't realize this till the Viking told me to stop working and go home. I was not being paid for overtime anyway. But that's just it. I was working to avoid going home. There's nothing waiting for me there.

I could watch TV. But I can't stand TV shows right now. I'm saving all my energy for the new season of Gilmore Girls (Yey! Luke!) I hate watching the news - all I hear is bad news and it's not helping my moods. I can't remember the last time I really laughed. You know, that loud uncontrolable laughter that makes you hold your stomach and bend your knees. I miss that. I need to start reading a new book. There's this old hard-bound Catherine Neville waiting for me on the shelf. But I don't want to start with that because my Harry is arriving this week, from Canada. And I've been warned that I won't like the ending to this one. Hmmm ... the plot thickens. I'm still mourning Sirius Black.

I'm getting really boring too. All I could think about is work. Even when I'm walking to the bank or eating lunch. I'm lost in the world of gradients and swatches and psd. And I really need a break. Only thing is ... I feel that if I stop thinking somehow, reality would hit me in the face and violently throw me to living a life I don't want. Okay, now I'm really needing a therapist.

Here's my horoscope for today:
Quickie: They have to invent a whole new metal to describe your strength of will now. (My strength of will comes from my braces).

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Feeling exceptionally disciplined? It's showing -- you've accomplished a lot! And now, it's about time to treat yourself. Buy a little something for yourself -- maybe something on discount. (LOL Wish I could afford discount)

Daily: Just because others are losing their heads doesn't mean that you have to take the same tack. So before you start running around and yelling about how the sky is falling, take a deep breath -- and then take a good, long look at the situation. You might just find that things aren't quite so bad as everyone is making them out to be. Once your cooler head prevails, others might be able to see the same thing as well. You can keep feeling good. (Hmmmm ... how to feel good. Get more coffee?

I crave for chocolates. But for now, I'll have my 5th cup of coffee for the day. I think I'll even go watch the news. Something just might surprise me. (fingers crossed). I'm getting bored with myself. I better go before I put myself to sleep.


The Queen

Spent Friday night with my guy-pals from the office. As usual, I ended up being the only rose among the thorns again. My girl-pal had to go home to her family and attend a wake.

It was a last minute invitation and it was my semi-boss'es birthday. His wife had just had a C-section, a new baby boy and a close brush with death in the hospital. He needed major cheering up, being so worried with the bills and all so we all went there to see celebrate his birthday. Of course, everyone ended up with beer. And I had the whole Coke liter to finish for the rest of the night. We were joined by his other friends - unfortunately still no women. I was wondering if I should be there at all but being with my office buddies, I didn't feel left out at all. Ironic that I could go out drinking with so many men but not with the guy I love. Erase! Erase! Erase! Let's not go into that. At least for a night, I could stop thinking about ... well, about me.

My semi-boss put up his DVD player in front of us to entertain us. I ended up watching three concerts that night: The Eagles Reunion Concert, Simon and Garfunkel at Central Park, and the Queen's We Will Rock You Concert in Montreal. In between bites of goat's meat (it might be rabied, LOL), pantat, talaba and talking about silly topics, I also enjoyed the three concerts. I have high respect for these bands but I didn't realized how great they really until after seeing those concerts.

I was surprisingly impressed by the lyrics of the Queen's songs. I knew they were good, I could sing some of the chorus and recognize most of them. I know I can't memorize the lyrics. I didn't even get Bohemian Rhapsody with all the Galileo Figaro thingy going on. And was wondering what Bismillah meant. But maybe it was just the situation I'm in but Somebody and Save Me moved me. Lol. Not really the songs I would choose to move me but they did. The trick is not just to read the lyrics. It works more when you listen with the music. Or it helps if you can sing like dear old Freddie.

Freddie Mercury has such a great ass. But I have to concede, he was far more graceful than me. And he looked far better with that scarf.

Queen - Somebody To Love

Can anybody find me somebody to love?
Each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
Take a look in the mirror and cry
Lord what youre doing to me
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just cant get no relief, Lord!
Somebody, somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I work hard every day of my life
I work till I ache my bones
At the end I take home my hard earned pay all on my own -
I get down on my knees
And I start to pray
Till the tears run down from my eyes
Lord - somebody - somebody
Can anybody find me - somebody to love?

(He works hard)
Everyday - I try and I try and I try -
But everybody wants to put me down
They say Im goin crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe
Yeah - yeah yeah yeah

Oh Lord
Somebody - somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Got no feel, I got no rhythm
I just keep losing my beat
Im ok, Im alright
Aint gonna face no defeat
I just gotta get out of this prison cell
Someday Im gonna be free, Lord!

Find me somebody to love
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Queen- Save Me

It started off so well
They said we made a perfect pair
I clothed myself in your glory and your love
How i loved you
How i cried...
The years of care and loyalty
Were nothing but a sham it seems
The years belie we lived a lie
I love you till i die
Save me save me save me
I can't face this life alone
Save me save me save me...
I'm naked and i'm far from home

The slate will soon be clean
I'll erase the memories
To start again with somebody new
Was it all wasted
All that love?...
I hang my head and i advertise
A soul for sale or rent
I have no heart i'm cold inside
I have no real intent
Save me save me save me
I can't face this life alone
Save me save me save me...
I'm naked and i'm far from home

Each night i cry i still believe the lie
I love you till i die
Save me save me save me
Don't let me face my life alone
Save me save me ooh...
I'm naked and i'm far from home


Five Stages

1. Denial
It's not happening. You can get through this. All you have to do is bury yourself with work. Remind yourself to put one foot in front of the other. So you're in a daze. That's ok. You've been through this before. It should get easier. It shouldn't last. You'll wake up and it's all just a bad dream.
A nightmare. But it's not.

2. Anger
You should go cut your hair, right now! In fact, just shave it all off. It will make you feel better. You should erase everything from memory. Be rid of all the baggages. Throw your energy into your madness. Grab something and kick it. Hit the wall. It will be good to see anyhing break. Maybe it will give you relief. Maybe it will make you really tired that you don't have to think about him. Throw anything!
But I don't.

3. Bargaining
Maybe things can still work out. Maybe we can talk about it and make things right. Maybe it's not so bad. Long distance relationship sometimes work. There may be people out there who knows the secret of how it works. I don't mind being a cat lady. I may not be mom material anyway. Maybe if we just talk about it, it will be fine. We will be fine.
But we're not.

4. Depression


Why Good Men Lie (revisited)

I'm cheating. I'm blogging in advance because God knows when I can blog again.

This is a re-print from my previous deleted blog (dated 1.21.2005), for the benefit of a female-lawyer-friend who knows better and should feel better. I don't know if I still have the same conviction I had when I wrote it. But reading it again, makes me want to believe in it. So Ayan! Read and weep.

After one practical joke, a broken heart and an unexpected discovery, I thought of tackling an age-old question that has been at the back of my mind for the past month. Why do good men tell half-truths? Picking the minds of my male friends, with side-comments from their girlfriends or wives, I came up with this blog.

Half-truths are true facts with details omitted for a purpose. Half-truths are half-lies. And that makes them lies just the same. The lies I mean here are not the grave ones that would seriously affect humanity, or one that would take advantage of the down-trodden. But just “basic” lies like: (1) failing to mention to a girl you’ve just met that you’re married; or (2) withholding information about your educational background or your real name because doing so might end serious possibilities; or (3) telling a girlfriend that you ran into THE ex and oh, forgot to mention that you accompanied said ex to lunch; or (4) promising to be there when you know you couldn’t because you just can't be at two places at the same time. That sort of lies.

And so my guy-friends defend themselves. Researcher friend reasons, it was not a lie. The question just never came up, and the information was not vital enough not be shared. And he didn't want to offend or hurt in any way. Writer friend says it’s because women are so emotional and an all-out truth can sometimes be better told in small installments. So the truth shall eventually be revealed, as if filtered until the whole picture is clearly visible. And it’s the best way to avoid an all out war with the wife, he says. A high school buddy supposed he assumed too much; that the facts were clear and that he was not hiding anything. Another officemate reasoned that the information was not significant at that time, and need not be said. Still another said, women are just too sensitive and the truth can have disastrous consequences. Women, he said, demand to be treated equally, yet when given the truth, they break down and cry, leaving the guy helpless. Finally, a long-time friend said, “I couldn’t tell her because it would break her heart.” – ooooooooh plleeeeeezzzz. I happen to have strong women friends/family and all of them would probably be cursing right about now.

Fair enough. Men do make these judgments from past experiences with other women. And most often, these experiences were not at all pleasant. And men, being men, will just choose to evade the issue and take the 5th. And the truth stays hidden, till it becomes inevitable to tell. If I have to judge things in black and white, a half-truth is, was and always will be a lie. They are not good. But I always try to perceive things without the lack of color. Everything is in different shades of gray ... or red, or blue, or yellow. Good men do have reasons for their half-truths and they were not meant to hurt. These good men have after all, in the end, come clear before any real danger came to pass (except for that one broken-heart – hikbi, hikbi). And have redeemed themselves with their good intentions, reasoning and yes, bribery - hahaha. So, good men do lie. Their reasons, although a bit one-dimensional, were made from honest judgments and more importantly, their inability to understand women. We women fall off our rockers for the same reasons.

Just this. Women, at least women like me, don’t like to be treated as if we’re fragile. This is after-all the 21st century and we’ve manage to outgrow skirts and the need to be married at 34 (sorry – couldn’t resist). I do declare that although I am woman, I am not afraid of the truth. I may be emotional but my tears do not make me weak. In fact, I believe, it is that which makes me stronger. There would be puny moments, - and this I say without fear of being seemingly helpless -- I think, if I am mature enough, I would have ways to let my man know that I need to be delicate. “Come hither and protect me!” I would say. It’s just Venus with its clouds hiding its insides. It's just the way I am. God made me that way.

My male friends and I think differently, but it doesn’t excuse them into hiding information just to protect my sensibilities from a raging war, an out-right debate or to shield me from a pain I know not - because in the first place, I didn't know the full truth. I would rather like to hear reason - the why behind the what. And I do like a good argument - albeit I lose in most of them - GRIN. But it’s in the passionate exchange of reasoning that a lot of the person is revealed and that makes the discovery a lot more fun and meaningful. So I’d rather that they not lie, or tell half-truths. I'd rather that they tell the whole story and not omit details that I might find unpleasant. I’d rather have the honesty up-front than to postpone dealing with a half-truth later. This theory, of course, is not applicable to the faint of heart. Truth will sometimes hurt and hurt bad. So when your Jack Nicholson testifies that “you can’t handle the truth!”, because you drop tears or lose your smile, be sure you’re woman to correct him. And be sensible enough to stop or postpone the conversation to another day when you become close to violent. Let’s not make hell just because we can’t bear the facts. But maybe, we could calm our insides and go fight another day - reasonably. If we don’t want to be lied at, let’s avoid acting frail, because we’ve gone great lengths to prove we are not. We are just different from men. And men are just different from us. And don’t we just love our differences?


My nine-year-old nephew was reading a book called Animorphs and was telling me all about it. He was describing to me the process of morphing when I made my confession.

Me: I can morph too.
Markey: No, you can’t. You can’t change into an animal.
Me: I can morph … into a spinster … any time I want.
Markey: No, you can’t
Me: I can just put on eyeglasses, put my hair into a tight bun, then … I morph into a spinster.
Markey: NO, YOU CAN’T!
Markey: Cannot.
Me: Can too.
Markey: Prove it. Morph now.
Me: I don’t have my eyeglasses with me.
Markey: You can’t. You can’t. *conviction diminishing by each second*
Me: *smiles mysteriously*
Markey: Tita, what’s a spinster?

He thought a spinster was some kind of animal. In a way, that’s true. A caged animal. But I refuse to be caged. I’m not a spinster. In a few months time I will be a CAT LADY.


Instances of Escapism

My thoughts in the past few days, in random order:

Was watching the Jay Leno Show last night and there was Ralph Fiennes being interviewed. I have a great fascination with English actors … or maybe it’s just the English in general. Among them would be Hugh Grant (eyes that makes you ahhh), Sean Connery (the intense I’m-in-charge look), Daniel Day Lewis (superb ak-tore) and Damian Lewis, the guy who played Lt. Winters in the HBO series Band of Brothers (because he seldom smiles and when he does, it’s like getting a broken light bulb to shine - hehehe). Maybe it’s the accent. Anyway, was watching Ralph Fiennes on TV and he was talking about not owning a car in London. And Jay Leno asked, how can he get around London without a car?! … Ralph candidly replied, "I own a bicycle". Imagine that. This gave me a picture of Sean Connery riding a bicycle in the end credits of the movie Finding Forrester; which reminded me of someone’s story of Sean Connery riding a bicycle in Boracay. Envision a notable actor going around London on a bicycle. Fascinating. I love people who don’t have a do-you-know-who-I-am attitude. I think we should all ride bicycles to work. Hmmmmm … that would be nice.

I spent my Saturday working. I’m beginning to think I spend my spare time working to avoid life. I’m losing touch with people. I’m broke so I’ve been spending my weekends at home. And working seems to be more interesting now – with all the designing I’m doing. But I’m becoming very absent-minded. I forget birthdays and appointments and people in general. Bad, bad, bad. I made this toothpaste banner for Scott in http://husbands.blogdrive.com, as part of my experiment with Photoshop; but now I can’t find it and I was suppose to email it to him. So I’m thinking of making a new one, and maybe one for his wife, too. Good people deserve good stuff. But I can’t find the time just yet because I’m escaping. I even forget time – but I like to work, work, work. I’m getting very boring. I should really go out more. I wonder how my friends are. They are nice enough to keep in touch and check if I’m still breathing. But still I don’t make any effort to call. I’m getting really weird. I really have to call my friends after I post this thing.

I also didn’t post for last week’s Photo Friday challenge. I don’t have a picture of anything Violet. Now this is why I wanted a digital camera. So I won’t need film and just shoot the moment. But you really can’t have everything. My semi-boss lent me this 105mm camera lens and several filters when he found out I was interested in photography. Was so excited to try it but when I took it home, it won’t fit my camera. Bummer! I was already imagining the possibilities of the 105mm lens. The possibilities will have to stay in the imagination for a little while longer.

I tried selling my CD player to get some extra cash. I figured, no CD player would mean extra cash, less electric bill. I was hoping for three thousand but this guy, knowing that it’s a season to take advantage of the disadvantaged, offered me 700. Na-a! Decided NOT to part with the CD player. It took me 6 months to pay for that thing and I’m not going to give it up for a measly 700 pesos. So life goes on.

A friend of mine sent me this picture: The difference between men and women. I totally agree. Makes me feel good that women cry. With all these knobs, there has to be an outlet in case we explode when we overheat. I like it that we find life complicated, yet long for its simplicity. Men with their one-track-mind. Women with their hormones.
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Just finished a book called Girl’s Night In. It’s a collection of short stories by different women authors in varying stages of womanhood. I have two favorites:

One: Alisa Valdes-Rodrigues (The Cat Lady) wrote:
Dear Self: If you are still single and haven’t had one good date in the preceding two years, you must admit the search is over. Get rid of the belly shirts. Toss the miniskirt. Save yourself a future of humiliation and too much makeup and realize one important truth: You are now a cat lady. Love Teresita.

Teresita wrote this to herself when she was twenty-two. She opened the letter when she turned 35. Guess what? I’m turning 35 this year. CAT LADY???!!! But I don’t like cats.

Two: Lynda Curnyn (Here we Are) wrote:
“Do you think some people were meant to be alone?”
“I think some people were meant to be alone.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I’m being funny.”

I like it when women are portrayed not as helpless, needy, damsels in distress, but as strong, conflicted, have-no-clue-but-getting-on adults. I like it when both sexes play around with their differences yet somewhere in the middle of it, they find a connection. I like it that I’m a needy, helpless, conflicted, have-no-clue-but-getting-on, not-so-strong damsel-in-distress … adult? I’m being serious but I’m also being funny.

I had a dream the other night, of giving birth. I can’t remember if I found it painful although I think I did weep. I was married ... to a very tall, curly-haired, blue-eyed guy. (smile) Even in my dreams, I escape.


Do you know?

  • ... the name of the female counterpart of Mazinger-Z?

  • ... why Julie Yap Daza would write a book called Etiquette for Mistresses?

  • ... why women pluck their eyebrows only to line them with pencils again?

  • ... why sex is regarded as a ‘taboo’ word by most Filipinos? Or maybe that theory doesn't apply anymore.

  • ... why love this one guy a thousand miles away when there’s a thousand single men one mile away from you?

  • ... why they create E-books when there’s absolutely nothing that can replace print on paper?

  • ... why postpone something you want NOW?

  • ... why an eight-year old would find Time magazine good reading material? My nephew is a bit weird.

  • Why love when you know you can get hurt? – I thin I know this one but hate to admit it (smile)



I'm taking a break from too much thinking. If I don't, I'm going to sink into self-pity and we can't have that. I slept early last night - very tired from everything. I woke up at about 3 in the morning to the sound of loud rain. It slowly died down to a drizzle until all you could hear is the pitter-patter on the large leaves just outside my window. Makes me think of horse's hooves on cobbled streets. Not that I've ever been on any cobbled street before. It's just how I imagined it I guess. I wished that moment would last longer. And I wish there was a big lug of a Viking sharing the warmth. I stayed awake till it was time to get ready for work.

Three of my officemateys are absent today. One is sick, the second has a son who is sick, and the third, my semi-boss had just had his first baby boy. So life moves on because there is still love in the world.

The ebb and flow of life. Someone wrote that somewhere.

It's so quiet in the office and all you can hear is me typing on the keyboard and the Binoculars' Deep song going ohwooo- ohwooo - ohwooo-oh-oh-ohwooo.

God's grace is sufficient. Ohwooo.


For the record

I am highly valued and insdispensable in his heart. Hehehe. I am suppose to keep that in mind so I'm putting it here. For the record.

Rant # 48

Because all I have is bad news, this must be Rant # 48. Not that I'm counting.

Spent the majority of my weekend working on 3 presentations for Monday. It would have been easier if I can do my presentations with a computer but the requirement was to give the presentation on Manila paper (and we’re suppose to be upgrading towards a more hi-tech era! Grrrrrrr!)

The reason I hate writing on boards is because I have the scribbles of a twelve-year old. I think I stopped writing with a pen on the day I learned to type. In high school, my friends didn’t find me useful on tests because they can’t read my handwriting. I stopped trying to use long-hand in 4th grade. If I have to write (which I do in journals) I use very miniscule letters to save time. They are so small you need a magnifying glass to read them. The small letters helps me write faster - shorter lines, less time. Sad to say I never tried to improve my hand-writing, There had been half-hearted attempts but when I decided I didn’t want to be a lawyer (they say you have to have great hand-writing when you take bar exams) and I also didn’t want to be an accountant (my 4 writes like a 9, so it confuses the sums) I gave up hand-writing. I felt relieved when computers and printers became a more acceptable form of communication.

So I’m stuck with marker pens, rulers and pencils to make a more readable presentation. A friend suggested I call in the ex to help out since he had impeccable scripts, but I can’t. It’s a bad idea to ask favors from ex-es who couldn’t even look at you because they blame you for ruining their lives. I bumped into him at a show last Thursday. I don’t think he would have talked to me if I didn’t say hello first. It’s been a year. I thought he would be over it by now but I guess not. Anyway, I finished my presentation with the help of letter stencils and a good eraser. I’m quite happy to have achieved something even though I’m not getting paid for overtime. Work helps me forget my problems and I’m having so many right now.

I needed to experiment on designs too because my boss is giving me more work on that, which I so like. Unfortunately, it’s an added work load but I really like doing it and don’t want to give it up yet because I enjoy it very much. So I’m stuck – with work I love and work I have to do. Sigh. I’ve given up on my social life too. I’m too poor to go out anyway.

My mother’s brother and sister are in town. There’s been a slight family bitterness going on. And although we had nothing to do with these disputes, we got somehow caught in the middle of it. So I really hate it that I have to tread carefully so as not to crush on someone else’s feelings. Apparently, the older you get, the more sensitive you become. So it’s like walking on quicksand. Sigh. We’re going to move my grandparents bones from the hometown cemetery to a more plush city cemetery. All my mother’s family will be there. And I’m expecting a thick air of bitterness between sweet words with my relatives. Too much bad blood in this side of the family. Bad blood created by the older generations and now being passed to nieces and nephews. Sad really. I thought that older people know better when it comes to preserving the peace. I don’t think even Bo Sanchez can patch this family together.

Oh, I had my braces adjusted. The first day was not so painful. Now I’m starting to feel the stress of the wires. I thought fuchsia colored bands would cheer me up a bit but they don’t really do much and I'm getting mouth sores with the tightness of new bands.

I need money. I need to pay my dentist, pay the maid’s salary and buy food. If I was born rich, I would probably have problems on how to spend my money. I'm poor so I know how to spend my money. I just don’t know where to get it. (To the Viking - it's still NOOOOOO!!!) Somehow, life usually takes care of itself. Pride will be my downfall.

On the upside: I have my presentation done, my teeth on it's way to perfect, my relatives still talking to each other, a time to blog and most of all, a very patient boyfriend. :) As long as there's an upside, I will survive.


Photo Friday:Complexity

Miagao Church, Miagao, Iloilo

I spent a lot of time in this church a few years back. The whole front has been manually carved in limestone. It has been restored block by block and the whole front facade has been listed in the World Heritage list. It's a church with a lot of history. There's a tunnel under it that leads towards the beach. People used that tunnel to escape from the Japanese soldiers during the war. Now it's too dangerous to go down that tunnel but you can still find the entryway hidden by a large baptismal font.

A friend of mine got a very public marriage proposal here. LOL. After mass before the people took leave the guy asked everyone to stay and proposed to my friend in front of everybody with a microphone at the altar. It was suppose to be very romantic. But my friend was so overwhelmed, surprised and embarassed, she couldn't answer and just sort of shrunk in her seat. A very long silence followed. The guy went down finally because he didnt get a public Yes. Good thing they're getting married on December. :)



It’s 3:12am and I still haven’t had sleep for approximately 18 hours. My body tells me I’m tired but I can’t sleep. Desperate, I started counting sheep at ten o’clock pm but it didn’t seem to work so I tried a different animal until I got Noah’s Ark jumping all over a wooden fence (the snake slid under) but by then I guess I was too entertained to fall asleep. I couldn’t read, for some reason. My back aches from too much lung-burden so I set the book aside and took my pillows to the living room to watch TV in the middle of the night. Saw a full first episode of Lost (I liked it) and a movie with Kate Hudson, bearing the painting of Sainte Ursula, patron saint of young naïve girls. Undoubtedly, they pray for real love or maybe to be rescued from older mature men who break their hearts to pieces. Hmmmmm … sounds familiar. Good thing I’m no longer young, naïve maybe, but young, no.

Finally got tired of the telly, so I moved back to my room in front of the computer, hoping that the Viking is still online. But just as I got connected, my sister knocks on the door and asks for her turn on the net. It was an unwritten agreement that she gets to use the net on the wee hours of the morning since I’m usually asleep by that time anyway. Sigh. So I let her take over and turned off the computer.

This asthma attack sucks. I think it happened last year too and I ended up losing weight and not getting sleep for 48 hours. I wonder how long this one will let me stay awake. I badly want to hear the Zzzzzzzzzzzzs. But (cough) (cough) not this hour I guess.

I went back to the TV, flipped channels and found this Audrey Hepburn movie. But I could put my heart into it because I knew I really needed sleep. Started to stare at the ceiling of the living room for a few minutes. Found the wrinkles of the house there. Paint peeling from roof leaks, cracks and lines that were never there before. Didn’t realize the house could change like that without me noticing. I wondered when it started being like that.

I started to miss my Mom. She would notice cracks like that. Doray and I would sometimes share about missing our Moms. Hers died just this year. And we would share what a totally big loss it is for kids to lose Moms. And it would get us all teary-eyed but we would wipe it away because that’s how strong mothers are and would want us to be. Maybe I just miss her because I’m sick.

So here I am stuck in front of the computer. Too bored to read. To bored to watch TV. Too disconnected to read blogs or check out the Viking. Maybe I just need to drink more water. I’m not much of a water drinker and I know it’s vital when you have the flu but I’ve been drinking my medicines. Sigh. I just want to sleep. Maybe if I start pretending to be asleep, I would eventually fall asleep. Light will be coming out soon. And it would seep through my room and burn my skin and I still haven’t had any blood yet. Come to think of it, I do look rather pale. Like a vampire, I am. With braced fangs.

Ok, I will force myself to fall asleep just in case my mother suddenly appears from nowhere and tells me to get right to bed. I miss her but that thought scares me.

So good morning world! Since I’m disconnected, looks like I will have to post this in the morning when I wake up. If I do get some sleep.


Photo Friday: Somber

The picture looks the way I feel now. Dark and dreary. I haven't touched the computer for 24 hours. And my room is in this somber mood.

Been battling asthma for the past three days. Decided to stay home today and sleep it off. I'm not feeling any better even if I had some of the orange-flavored medicine; like a good girl. But I guess it will take longer than that to feel better. The temperature changes constantly because of rain that comes and goes where the wind takes it. The climate change is a nightmare to those who have asthma. Unfortunately I no longer have the nebulizer. My brother took it with him to Manila because he has a worse case of asthma than I do. Would die for a smoking nebulizer right now. I have a terrible headache and my joints hurt at my every move. Cancelled my dental appointment for braces tightening because everything just hurts. I need my Ventolin fix. Now where do I steal a nebulizer?