Or next week

Bwahahaha!

Source: None via Teresa on Pinterest

Weekend clarity

Ok, so admittedly, I have been a little depressed the past few weeks.

Some of it could be attributed to the weather. A lot could be due to a general feeling of dissatisfaction with a few of my friends. I've always been easily affected by my friends. And while I do try to carry my own sunshine and most people admire my positive attitude, I do get depressed.

Anyway, I think my mom noticed so she piled on errands so my weekend at home was busy spent running errands for my parents and my sister. All this kept me from dwelling.

I ran in the rain and skipped through puddles.

The times I was free, I slept a lot. I ate ice cream. And Lindt Lindor -- this always makes me feel better.  Anyway, I feel much better now. Just a bit down but no longer depressed.


Tomorrow, August begins. Hopefully, I can shake off the last bits of depression.

But how will I know?

Source: facebook.com via Kimberly on Pinterest

or texts in the middle of the game...calls before his boys' night out...calls after his boys' night out...

Weh.

"Kapag Ako ang Naging BF Mo" by: Alvin P. Alava

Kapag Ako ang Naging BF Mo
By: Alvin P. Alava

Kapag ako ang naging BF mo,
do not expect na to show my thoughtfulness,
ay bibigyan kitang lagi ng bulaklak
na nabibili sa Florissimo at Linea Fiori.*
Because, for me, wala nang mas romantic pa
kaysa du'n sa rose na personal kong pinitas
mula sa bakuran ng aking masungit na landlady.
Hindi ko rin ugali ang magregalo ng imported chocolates.
Kasi, not everytime ay magiging sweet ang ating love affair.
Though I'm not the type of guy na nanggugulpe ng syota,
it is not an assurance na sa piling ko'y never kang iiyak.
Kung iniilusyon mong mag-dinner sa Chinois at sa La Tasca,*
e, sorry...mas type kong isama ka du'n sa amin
para ipagluto ka ng favorite mong carne rellenada.
Dahil madalas kang ipasyal ng ex-BF mo
du'n sa Greenhills, Shangri-La at Subic,**
ma-take mo naman kaya ang maglibot sa National Museum,
o kaya'y manood ng stage play sa Fort Santiago?
Okay din kaya sa'yo kung isama kitang mag-rally sa Senate,
mag-social-work sa Payatas at mag-tree planting sa Banahaw?
Kung without compromise ay tatanggapin mo ako sa piling mo...


___________________
My comments:

* Ano 'tong mga lugar na 'to?
** Finally, places I recognize.

Buti Pa

Buti Pa
(No author, this one seems to be popular poem with a lot of variations)


Buti pa...
ang exam, sinasagot, yung ibang tao hindi
ang calendar, may date, yung ibang tao wala
ang sugat, inaalagaan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang baso, dinadampian ng labi, yun ibang tao hindi
ang unan, katabi't kayakap sa gabi, yun ibang tao hindi
ang notebook, sinusulatan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang hinihinga, hinahabol, yung ibang tao hindi
ang parents, hinahalikan, sana ako rin

Buti pa...
ang lesson, inuunawaan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang kamalian, pinapansin, yung ibang tao hindi
ang panyo, iniiyakan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang Hershey's, may Hugs and Kisses, yung ibang tao wala
ang awit at tugtog, magkasama, sana tayo rin

Buti pa...
ang ulap, tinitingala, yung ibang tao hindi
ang phone, hine-hello, yung ibang tao hindi
ang aksidente, pinagkakaguluhan, magpaaksidente kaya ako?
ang radio, pinakikinggan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang lungs, malapit sa puso, yun ibang tao hindi
ang typewriter, nata-type-an, yung ibang tao hindi
ang kotse, mahal, sana ako rin

Buti pa...
ang probabilities, may chance, yung ibang tao wala
ang patay, dinadalaw, yung ibang tao hindi
ang AIDS, nababalita, yung ibang tao hindi
ang problema, iniisip, 'di bale iniisip naman kita

Buti pa...
ang film, nadedevelop, yung ibang tao hindi
ang tindera, nagpapatawad, yung ibang tao hindi
ang liham, nagmamahal, yung ibang tao hindi
ang alaala, binabalikan, yung ibang tao hindi
ang d'yaryo, pinaniniwalaan, yung ibang tao hindi
at buti pa ang tulang ito, pinapansin,
yung gumawa, hindi.

"Sulyap, Titig...Sana" by Ciel Del Mundo

Sulyap, Titig...Sana
By: Ciel Del Mundo

hinihintay-hintay, inaasam-asam
nililinga-linga ang bawat magdaan
kunwa'y nag-iisip habang nag-aabang
pakwento-kwento nang walang katuturan
minsa'y pangisi-ngisi, patayu-tayo
hihinga ng malalim, paubo-ubo
titingin sa malayo, mapapanguso
nakakainip, ayoko ng ganito
biglang mapapalunok, mapapanganga
magkukunwari, tila walang nakita
lilingon sa iba, pangiti-ngiti na
"and'yan na pala s'ya".

tatahitahimik na, magseseryoso
kulang sa salita, oo lang nang oo
tatango-tango, matipid na sa kwento
ayaw magbiro, akala mo'y totoo
walang kakurapkurap, nakikiramdam
kakabakaba, puno ng agam-agam
namumula-mula, parang nilalanggam
lihim ang paghanga, pasulyap-sulyap lang
ingat na ingat, ayaw magpahalata
iniiwas-iwasan mata'y magtama
sa pagtingin-tingin biglang natulala
"ay! nahuli yata".

bumaling sa katabi, tumawa-tawa
bumulong-bulong, nakipagtsika-tsika
maya-maya'y yumuko, kumanta-kanta
kunwa'y walang nangyari, patay-malisya
muling sumulyap, ulo'y umikot-ikot
'di inaasahang mata'y mag-aabot
titig na titig pa, sadyang nakalimot
kinilig-kilig na, hanggang sa manlabot
kagat-kagat ang labi ng matauhan
hiyang-hiya, putlang-putla, naiilang
pigil na pigil ang tuwang nararamdaman
"haaay...nagkatitigan."

Pathetic

If you really wanted to talk to me, you would. When I really want to talk to you, I do.

There's really nothing wrong here. Except that my ego can't take the results of the recent statistical survey conducted last month.

It appears that I want to talk to you more than you want to talk to me.

A delayed good-bye

"Someday WE will laugh about this."

This was the motto of our friendship. We were two crazy people who had found a willing conspirator in each other. We got into messes. We got into trouble. We had adventures. Boy, did we have adventure!

I think it helped that while we were completely different people, we viewed the world as our playground. And we had the same idea of fun, though we had different strategies for going about it. You preferred a more regimented and scheduled adventure. I was great with spur-of-the-moment stuff. You needed a script. I enjoyed adlib.

We both loved pizza and beer. And ice cream and cake. And sitting at the beach whistling at all the cute boys.

When we had boyfriends from the same crowd, you imagined our life together. We'd live next door and we'd be godparents to each other's children. I had no plans of having children then but I said yes. Yes, I would be the cool godparent who will side with them when they got in trouble. Or give them advice on how to enjoy life without getting in trouble.


College came and went. We stayed at the same dorm. Dated guys from the same frat. Had a long-term relationship or two. Then graduation. And work, we're we finally separated. But we lived on different floors of the same building, because we were independent that way.

When my last boyfriend and I broke up, you were there to hold me as I cried. You made sure I ate and cleaned up my apartment. You got my mail and made sure my bills were paid. Was it your guilty conscience?

I recovered. But it hasn't been the same. I'm not as fun as I used to be. Or at least not as fun with you.

What did you expect? You think you've atoned for what happened. I've forgiven you. And him. Maybe I should have seen what was happening. But I never did because I never expected it from you. Or him.

The day I finally decided to move away, we both cried. Not because of what we will be missing but because of what we've lost. I had this speech prepared of us growing apart and maybe needing to live our lives separately. But I ended up saying everything raw. Adlib. I told you you didn't need to see me to the airport.

I got into my new apartment, on this beautiful island at the other end of the country. I got an SMS from you.

"Someday we will laugh about this. Wish you the best of luck!"

I never did reply. But some days it weighed on me.

Sometimes, I would go down to the beach and look at the tourists. No, I don't whistle at the cute boys or men anymore. But I remember that we did and I smile to myself.

I heard that you were no longer with him. That you'd gotten so far as to get engaged but for some reason the wedding didn't push through. I wondered if I should contact you. But I pushed the thought away. You didn't tell me you'd gotten engaged and un-engaged. I think since I moved away, we've realized that somewhere, we were no longer friends. And our lives have moved on without each other.

I miss who we were when we were young, but I don't feel the compulsion to seek you out now.

I'm not sure if this is the someday you were talking about or we've envisioned when we were young. But hey, I remember the things we did, and I laugh about it.

I get pissed

when you text me to ask if the guy has contacted me and said anything about you.

Oh yeah!

Source: flickr.com via Becky on Pinterest

When you really think about it

That’s all I want, I guess, someone who will tell me to stop, who will calm me down and give me structure.

See the full article here.

Books vs. real life

Have you ever noticed that a lot of contemporary romance novels start with the premise of one party needing the other party to pretend to be in love or something? Like for their career, as a screen, to please a member of the family? And they end up together?

I wonder if that works in real life.

Real life: No, of course not. That's stupid.

Great! I'll try it tomorrow.

H A !

There you go.

Love - a wildly misunderstood, although highly desirable, malfunction of the heart which weakens the brain.

Source: None via Yamila on Pinterest

W e h.

Something cheesy. I just don't like the ending, but still.

From What you Are to Me

What You Are To Me

To me, you are the buzz on the back of the neck and the Cheshire Cat-smile after two generous glasses of wine. You are the brush of fingers against each other, if only for a moment, as I’m handed the glass. You are the flutter of the heart when the soft, dewy skin touches skin for just a millisecond too long.

You are the swell of my chest when, at all of eight years old, I look across the playground and see the best swing–the one I’m sure will send me over the bar and turn me inside-out forever–completely open. You are the pebbles scattering under my tennis shoes as I race past the monkey bars and under the slide. You are that first big swing forward when my legs stretch out in front of me and I can see over the roof of the next house over.

You are the warm, happy din that settles over those perfect house parties–the ones where all the friends you haven’t seen in a while are all back together in one place. You are the clink of glasses against each other as we toast to something absurd and obscure. You are the arms around shoulders as inside jokes are laughed over, as people pass around nostalgia like a peace pipe in the kitchen of a friend’s house.

You are the wind blowing gently over the beach, that thin layer of traveling sand that brushes against me as I fall asleep to the sound of the waves. You are the ice cubes in the lemonade, the condensation, the little breath I take in when I press the cold glass against my neck to fight the heat. You are the suntan lines I wake up with, the freckles that show up on my shoulders as I go to sleep. You are summer vacation.

You are the heady rush I get when, lying on the floor surrounded by torn-apart wrapping paper on my 10th Christmas morning, my parents tell me there’s one more present behind the couch. You are the delirious, happy coma I fall into as I agonize over which toy to play with first. You are the shiny, light brown glaze on the ham as my father carves the first slice. You are A Christmas Story on a 24-hour loop.

You are the first day of school, when all of my pens and notebooks are perfectly organized and even the little dividers are labeled with the little pieces of paper in their colored slots. You are the promise of a pencil case filled with fresh ink and unused erasers. You are the satisfying snap of a three-ring binder as you place your first papers neatly inside.

You are laughing, laughing so hard I can’t see through my tears, laughing so hard I need to sit down for a moment. You are the happy ache in my side from laughter that comes in gales and waves and only gets worse as you try to stop it. You are that moment when I’m being held down and tickled and legitimately wondering if anyone has ever died from being tickled too hard. You are the cries of “Stop it!” that can barely be understood through the squeals of open laughter.

You are all of these things, you see. But I’ll be polite; I’ll resist the urge to grab you and shake you until you see yourself the way I do. I want to show you the Polaroids and postcards of images you embody, the snapshots of our lives we want to save in a shoebox and pass down to our grandchildren–but I won’t. I won’t. I’ll let you go on thinking you’re just some ordinary human, if you want to. I understand, it must be easier that way.

Masked Murder-er

So, apparently, there's a statistical study about this. Mind you, I don't always crawl on the ground. Sometimes I hurry from one column to the next, always hugging the wall. I make sure that I look through the window at an angle (usually just through a gap in the curtain), the way you see them do it in movies. That way you can see outside, but they can't see you.

Source: featherweightt.tumblr.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

Sometimes, I pretend I'm not home. Or sometimes, I shout:

"We don't live here anymore!"

The private investigator (sounds like a trashy)

The man stood atop the dunes and looked down the beach. His quarry was sitting 20 yards away from him. Close to the ocean. Crying. Even from this distance, he could see the shuddering sobs wracking the woman's body. She held herself in as if afraid a gust of wind would blow the pieces of herself away, with no hope of ever finding herself.

With a sigh, Jared started to walk toward the woman. He looked around the otherwise empty beach and appreciated the beauty of vista before him. He's spent the past six months trying to find this woman. He wasn't surprised that he would find her here, it had been a last resort. A slim hope. But his instincts had paid off. Clouds were rolling in, painting a beautiful sunset of orange, pinks and violets.

He stopped a few steps behind the woman.

"So you found me," she said, without looking at him.

Jared moved the couple of steps to stand beside the woman. He looked down at the top of her head and said, "Mrs. Fielding, it's time for you to go home."

A derisive laugh. "Don't you read the papers? I've been divorced. I am no longer Mrs. Fielding." She looked up and stared straight into Jared's eyes.

Jared should have been prepared for the impact of her eyes on him. He'd studied her pictures throughout this assignment. He knew her habits, her favorite food, how she takes her coffee. He caught his breath and took in the face before him. Eyes so clear and guileless. Lashes still spiky and wet from crying. Pink generous mouth. She was not a striking beauty but she had the open, welcoming face of the girl next door.

Married more for her money and connections than her beauty, Rosalie Beth Perez-Fielding had been an unwilling pawn in her father's and husband's quest for more money. The press had loved her innocence and naivete. And when her husband's affairs had become public, the press and the public had loved her for her poise and grace. As the scandal had grown, she had withdrawn from public appearances and let her lawyers and PR staff handle her affairs. Six months ago, she disappeared. Until now.

I wish

To my dear girlfriends,

I wish that someday, when we're old, we'll still have our lunches and get-togethers.

We'll bring our grandchildren along. They'll say:

"Be careful Grandma. Don't drop your Coors."

LOL!

is this a sign?

C & D holds a special  place in my heart. See why here.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/66239204/true-love-ring-sterling-silver-and

Anyway, the answer is a resounding NO. But I still want this. It's sweet and cute.


So what if I don't want to wake up to reality yet?

Equity in love

Looks pretty fair to me.

Source: justbesplendid.tumblr.com via Katherine on Pinterest

the difficulty lies

Letting go is hard.

I don't see you. I let go of you physically. No hugs. No hand-holding. No brushing of skin against skin.
 
I don't hear you. I avoided talking to you. No phone calls. No SMS. No email. No online chat.

But I sure as hell think of  you!

I have filled my days with activities and other people but you are always there on the fringes of my mind. Fighting for center stage.

I drive myself to exhaustion so I can sleep at night. But I dream of you.
Back with me.

My heart has given up. Love has dried up fast.

The problem is that my mind doesn't want to let go. Memories are keeping it going in this drought.

30-day photo challenge - cancelled

omg. this is another failure. i'm so lazy!

For my best buddies

Av, An, El, Er, En, -- missing you!
K,J,R,S - hehehe.

Source: google.com via Cláudia on Pinterest

Day 3: Clouds

Today was a gloomy day so there weren't a lot of interesting clouds. Unless a wall of grayness is interesting. Here's the luckiest shot I got while in the car.

Next: Day 4: Something green

Day 2: What I wore today

I wish I could show a picture of me wearing something really fashionable. But no, I wore this today. It's our office uniform for wednesdays.

Up next: Day 3: Clouds

just a thought

I'm going after what I want.

Can somebody please clue in the universe and tell her to give it to me? Just this once.

Wow cute!

This made my day. And it's early yet.

Source: weheartit.com via Carrie on Pinterest

sometimes it sneaks up on you

"I don't know why you came but I'm glad you came. I feel safe." I whispered.

I looked up at him through my tears. I waited for him to hold me and tell me everything was okay. But he didn't. I grabbed his hand and put his arm around me. I stepped close and buried my face in his chest while I took great shuddering breaths to keep from totally crying.

I felt him pat my shoulder. A little uncertain. Maybe reluctantly.

It was then that I knew it was really over.

David and Steffi (Part 4)

Part IV

(See Part I, Part II, Part III)

Steffi

I blew on my coffee as Tanya and I walked to the table near the window. I felt tiny beside Tanya but we've been friends forever. Me, petite and slightly round. I've always been described as a cute pixie. pfft. Tanya, always svelte and tall.

"Sure you're all right?" Tanya asked me.

I shrugged. "You know how I feel."

I hated hospitals. I'm in remission now. But there was a time when all I knew was painful chemotherapy and radiation treatment. I was 12 when I was first diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia. Basically, it meant that I had overproduction of white blood cells which were also defective which led to low red blood cell count, anemia and a host of other symptoms. I was a sick kid who knew hospitals better than the playground. It didn't help that I got sick when I already had school and friends to miss.

Tanya was my friend since kindergarten. My best-est friend. We stayed friends throughout the times when I had no hair, and when I didn't recognize her through my pain medication. She lost a brother when she was 9, to the same type of leukemia as mine. I am forever thankful to my parents and Tanya's parents for letting us continue to be friends throughout my treatment. Tanya was even allowed to accompany me during some of my chemotherapy.

I was declared in remission when I was 14. I still go to the hospital for checkups to make sure I stay in remission.  I've continued with my life but I hate hospitals.

Tanya and I remained friends. She took business, I took art. She went to law school, I went to more art and design. We were completely different but we understood each other very well.

"Yeah I know how you feel. Considering my history, I hate hospitals too. Do you suppose Mike will hold it against me if we skipped out now?" Tanya asked with a wry grin.

I snorted. "Mike will forgive you anything. Has he proposed yet?"

"No, but I will soon."

We laughed out loud. Kind of inappropriate given the situation we were in and we both realized it, falling silent at the same time.

"Have you told David how you feel about him?"

"No," I replied. "Besides, I'm not sure how I feel about him. I like being with him. But when he's not with me, I don't miss him either." I shrugged again as I sipped my coffee.

"And he hasn't exactly done anything to make me think that a declaration of love or intent would be welcome. He treats me like a buddy. Nope, the fire and heat is completely on my part."


Tanya's phone beeped. "Hey, Mike says David is awake. Wanna go and see him through the glass?"

I gulped my coffee and stood up. I was feeling a little nervous. I suddenly realized that I had no right to be there acting like some worried girlfriend.

When we got to the ICU, the doctors were with David. Mike was standing outside and waving. We stood beside him and waved too. David saw us and raised his hand in a slow wave. I teared up. Crazy me.

I dragged Tanya away from the window. "I think I'll just wait for the doctors to speak to Mike, then I'll go."

"Ok, that would be fine." Tanya looked at me worriedly. "You are looking a bit pale. and your hands are clammy."


To be continued here.

Day 1: Self-portrait

I'm starting something photography-related again today. Still no camera and I still don't know what I'm doing. But since I'm slightly a cam-whore, today was relatively easy.

Next up: Day 2: What I wore today

Freedom

From pinterest

Source: etsy.com via Julie on Pinterest

Pen and paper 2