Day 1: Favorite Song

Going Back to the corner where I first saw you
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I'm not gonna move
Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand
saying, "if you see this girl can you tell her where I am"

Some try to hand me money, they don't understand
I'm not broke I'm just a broken hearted man
I know it makes no sense but what else can I do
How can I move on when I'm still in love with you

Cause If one day you wake up and find your missing me
and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet
And you'll see me waiting for you on our corner of the street
So I'm not moving, I'm not moving

Policeman says, "son you can't stay here"
I said, "there's someone I'm waiting for If it's a day, a month, a year"
Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows
If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go

Cause If one day you wake up and find your missing me
and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be
Thinkin maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet
And you'll see me waiting for you on our corner of the street
So I'm not moving, I'm not moving,
I'm not moving, I'm not moving

People talk about the guy that's waiting on a girl
There are no holes in his shoes but a big hole in his world

Maybe i'll get famous as the man who can't be moved
Maybe you wont mean to but you'll see me on the news
And you'll come running to the corner
cause you'll know it's just for you
Im the man who can't be moved

(Chorus 2x)

Going Back to the corner where I first saw you
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I'm not gonna move
 



I heard about this song when I went on facebook and found its lyrics on a friend's status. I was intrigued and decided to find the music video on youtube (just out of curiousity, which I am always burning of). I highly recommend every guy in the world to listen to this song. Seriously. Not. But anyway, it's not like I'm REQUIRING people to hear it... hahaha.


The line "I'm not moving" seems to tickle my skeptic self with questions like "what if you need to pee?" or "don't you have plans on taking a bath?". Seriously, I am THAT crazy. But beyond the invitation of cynism (due to lack of logical consideration... as you find in most songs anyway), the weird falsettos and the generic melody (and by generic I mean it could possibly compose of at most 8 notes... but I haven't tried playing it so I'm not so sure... I'll keep you posted when I do decide to play it...); I found myself completely moved by the song.

Yes, I do admit from the bottom of my (diseased) heart that I have cried ONCE (only once ha). I was in a fragile state and this (stupid) song was on (I had no idea who played it... *innocent look*)... and I guess every girl sometimes wishes that their guy (or... girl? whichever sexual preference you have... I'm not one to judge.) would sing them the same devotion to wait (because waiting is probably the most annoying thing to do... especially if you're hungry... I am serious about this one. I'm very cranky when hungry.)

There is something about a man waiting on a girl (who might or might never come) that just pleases the ever-so-sadistic nature (that I believe sleeps in every girl).


So why is this my favorite song?

I'm not sure of it myself. I'm pretty sure I can find other songs that contain mushy and heart-wrenching lyrics, but I do know that as of this moment (14:35, March 31, 2010).... This is my favorite song.

30-Day Tumblr Challenge

 I know this isn't Tumblr but I'm feeling a bit bored this summer...^^ So I'm doing their 30-day challenge right here.^^ isn't that great?!?!?!


30 Day Tumblr Challenge.

Topics to post about:

* Day 01 — Your favorite song
* Day 02 — Your favorite movie
* Day 03 — Your favorite television program
* Day 04 — Your favorite book
* Day 05 — Your favorite quote
* Day 06 — Whatever tickles your fancy
* Day 07 — A photo that makes you happy
* Day 08 — A photo that makes you angry/sad
* Day 09 — A photo you took
* Day 10 — A photo of you taken over ten years ago
* Day 11 — A photo of you taken recently
* Day 12 — Whatever tickles your fancy
* Day 13 — A fictional book
* Day 14 — A non-fictional book
* Day 15 — A fanfic
* Day 16 — A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
* Day 17 — An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
* Day 18 — Whatever tickles your fancy
* Day 19 — A talent of yours
* Day 20 — A hobby of yours
* Day 21 — A recipe
* Day 22 — A website
* Day 23 — A YouTube video
* Day 24 — Whatever tickles your fancy
* Day 25 — Your day, in great detail
* Day 26 — Your week, in great detail
* Day 27 — This month, in great detail
* Day 28 — This year, in great detail
* Day 29 — Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
* Day 30 — Whatever tickles your fancy


weeeeeeeeeeeeee... I'm getting excited!

Random LOVE thing!

I may forget a lot of things but never my tradition...
So this is my essay on LOVE (2010 edition).


"To the Fallen"


    It seems like only yesterday I was a young teenager looking desperately for "the one". I can remember all too well

the feeling of hurt and rejection, whenever a crush liked someone else.
    Is this feeling normal?
    Is falling in love supposed to give you some kind of insecurity and desperate need for self-assurance?

    This is dedicated to the fallen...
    To the left behind...
    To the one who loved true yet lost...
    To the happy...
    To the one patiently waiting...
    To the heart that's always breaking.

    Love is one of the many mysteries in life we would never fully understand.
    At first you'd think that words were enough...
    That hugs would suffice...
    That kisses would express what you feel...
    That gifts would satisfy your loved one...

    But there's always something missing, isn't there?
    There's always that pain...
    That question...
    That heartache...
    That unanswered question...
    That issue...
    That woman...
    That guy...
    That feeling that there's something not right...
    That sacrifice you always have to do that you feel isn't fair.

    So where do we stand in this?
    When we feel like giving up?
    Like love isn't enough?
    Like things aren't fair?
    Like she should treat you better?
    Like he should call more often?
    Like the words "I love you" should mean more than just this?
    Just this cycle... With pain and anger...

    Love seems meaningless sometimes.
    But sometimes it seems like it's the only thing that makes us feel a little better...
    A little more human...
    A little more vulnerable...


    And a little more alive...

    Happy Valentine's day! (2010)

-Gama Rae
   

Backtrack 1: Ry's birthday

It has been almost two months and it feels nostalgic.

I've written this entry (in my head over) and over but I couldn't seem to find the time to put it in cyberpaper. (cyberpaper? making-up terms much...!?)
An event passes, and then another... Things i have forgotten, that i would have wanted to remember.
Maybe if I tried reliving the days one by one I might recall?

Let's see...

The last date on the blog said November 22, that's 2 days after Ry's birthday and yet I wrote about our "beloved" teacher.

Since I failed to write about Ry's birthday, I will write about it now!

NOVEMBER 20, 2009

Ry is officially one year old! So, like any parent would do on her child's birthday, I gathered up my friends for the party. As did Don his. I invited a few others but I guess the invitation got lost in the mail since none of them ever made contact...

So yeah. I just discovered that taxi drivers are really really "annoying" (I would've wanted to use a more accurate term but refrained since the term is considered "profanity"). They wouldn't let us ride just because there are 5 of us, then they wouldn't let us ride (when there were 4 of us left) because of the destination (Consolacion) which is roughly a hundred or so pesos worth of taxi fare. It was a saturday so I guess their greed got the most of them. We waited for almost an hour for a taxi and even got there a little later than Don and his friends who just went there by jeepney. (I promised myself I would not rant about taxi drivers because they contribute a lot to society so I will end my rant here.)

If November 20 seems like a familiar date to you, that's probably because you've heard about the Voyager Tournament, which was postponed from the 13th. It was a big DotA (Defense of the Ancients... that's a game played in Warcraft...) tournament in Cebu with a 10,000-peso cash prize for the champion.

So if you were in my shoes, how do you tell your husband to give up the chance of winning 10,000 pesos (and possibly alienating his friends in the process) so he could spend more time with his daughter at her birthday?

You can't, Without any consequential drama or grudge-holding.

So I kept my mouth shut about it and just let him (and his friends) leave. And while he was gone, my parents thought of him as an irresponsible father.

In his defense: Firstly, I know a LOT of fathers (including mine) who don't stay long enough to endure birthday parties. Secondly, they have NO IDEA whatsoever what he was going to do with the money... or that they have been having budget problems at his house.

But eventually the deed was made into an issue. One that I can't quite forget. When Don's mom asked him where he was headed to and if he had class, Don's sister made the comment "DotA class." Of course my parents heard it. They detested DotA. Made my life hell for playing it.

So imagine my "delight" upon hearing the comment.

Yes... keep imagining...

I fueled, fumed and spontaneously combusted. I walked throughout the entire village just so that my head would cool down but how could it? I knew what was going to happen next (I can predict the future...^^)... (and I was right about my prediction then by the way...)

So yeah. I got accused of being a bad host because I wouldn't go and entertain Don's relatives.
In my defense: I have always been a person who expressed myself openly (regardless of how embarassing it might be), and I knew myself enough that I would end up saying harsh words to his sister... and the in-laws would think sourly of me. So rather than  destroying the relationship between me and his relatives, I chose to keep my mouth shut and just let them "judge" me for not entertaining them. Because I don't talk when I know that what I'm about to say could be permanently scarring (unless I absolutely loathe you then I could perhaps make the necessary exemption).

Just for the record. Had she not spoken that tactless comment, I would have entertained them rather than my own friends (most of which I haven't seen in ages by the way...).

I also knew then that they would make some kind of whatever about me. And I was right. Of course I was furious when I found out. Like "wow... now it's MY fault." She should know better than anyone that my dad punched me and kicked me in front of people in an internet cafe just for standing there. How can she expect me to smile and "entertain" like nothing has happened?

So yeah. As usual, I'm the bad guy for defending him.


But of course, Ry's birthday wasn't all bad... Well, except maybe for THAT part... But at least long-lost Lei came! I had to call her to guilt her into coming...^^ hahaha.


Hmmm... maybe I am bipolar. I'm going from angry to happy much too fast methinks.

Dear Mrs. Tactless

Dear Mrs. Tactless,

    You hold our grades, not our necks.

    Whatever we do with our time, or whatever decisions we make in our lives, does not involve you. (If it does, we would've went out of our way to ask for your advice.) So your "morals" and your "high-and-mighty-words" were uncalled for.

    I am deeply offended.

    You're supposed to be an authority on good values and moral conduct, yet what you did surpasses even Garry Watin's lack of tact. Those that know Garry would know what I'm referring to.

    First week and you already managed to do two strikes. I can't say I'm not impressed, but I can't say that I won't retaliate either.

   Take care always and watch your back. ^^


Lovingly yours,
Me.

Ondoy, etc.

Lessons I learned from Ondoy:

1. Money and riches are destroyable by flood (as well as fire).

2. Cebu (alone) has over a thousand sacks of disposable goods, foods and clothes; which could perhaps help evacuation centers for weeks.

3. People unite when there's a calamity, but this unity is temporary and usually disappears when everybody is feeling better. Like a battle trance of sorts.

4. Politicians jump at the opportunity (when people are feeling down and depressed) to campaign, which makes me wonder if they have any tact at all. (Seriously, it's as tactful as campaigning during a funeral.)

5. Some people (I won't say names) feel so high and mighty that the flood didn't happen to them or to where they are. Although there are high crime rates in those areas, not all who died (per se) were "sinners".


More lessons I learned from everything else that happened to this country:

1. Politicians, who campaign during calamities, suddenly top my "people I don't have respect for" list.

2. A little prayer goes a long way.

3. If people are in the verge of death, they are bound to get more creative, resourceful, inventive and instinctive than ever.





MY NEW "PEOPLE I DON'T HAVE RESPECT FOR" LIST: (as of October 6, 2009)


1. Politicians, who campaign during calamities (new)

2. Home-wreckers (used to be #1)

3. Wife-and-children-beaters (used to be #2)

4. Child-molesters. (used to be #5)

5. People who don't play fair. Cheaters or otherwise. (new)

6. People who discriminate. (used to be #3)

7. People who "commit" to someone yet still "plays around" with another person. Adulterers and "players". (new)

8. Men who value their pride above all else. (used to be #4)

9. Women who don't have enough pride to know when to stop loving an abusive man. (used to be #6)

10. People who SWEAR they're telling the truth even if they're lying. (used to be #7)


dropped out of the top 10 list (until further notice):

- Fake/ plastic people.

- Ass-kissers.

- Freeloaders.

*I just realized that these three characteristics I can some up in ONE name, which is already a given. So I need not include them.

A Rant about Rip-offs

Whatever happened to plain old originality?


I used to hate those people I call "bookish chess players". You know, those people that read all the chess books and memorize all the openings of all the grandmasters. I mean, no offense to the bookish chess players out there; but the reason I play chess is to see how far I can stretch my imagination and get out of the toughest situation. Not simply winning. If I only wanted to win, I'd play with newbies and scam money off of them. seriously. I'm a girl, I can do that very easily.

But I don't know... I guess I just thought that if I wanted to challenge someone's English Opening: King's English. Four Knights Variation Fianchetto Lines; I'd just go see Kasparov myself. And if I wanted to become a grandmaster, I'd work on making my own opening and proudly declaring it mine. Or if I wanted to face the perfect Sicilian Dragon or Sicilian Dragon Slayer I'd go to Sicilly. (To those that aren't laughing, you should probably laugh now because that was a joke right there. Perhaps an unoriginal one I might add, although I've never actually read or heard of this particular joke.)

I googled it and OMG! Sicilian defense IS named after Sicilly. Too lazy to hit backspace and rewrite everything so let's just move one. (Hmmm... It could just be me but I think I'm sounding too much like a nerd with all this chess talk.)



Whatever happened to "your very own"?

Whatever happened to originality?

Has it gone somewhere to an age unreachable by the current trend of internet dependency?

Has it somehow been forgotten?

Lost?

Broken?

Unrecoverable?


I can't say I haven't been unoriginal, especially when it comes to school works and projects (when my lazy side gets the best of me). But I've ALWAYS given credit to the people I've gotten the ideas from or based the design from. Just a courtesy that everyone should try doing every once in a while.


BECAUSE I KNOW THE FEELING of being ripped-off. I see my own work WITHOUT my name on it. I know it's mine because it took me over 2 hours to think of the concept alone and another 3 hours for execution, but my name is nowhere in sight. And what the hell is YOUR SIGNATURE doing on MY ARTWORK? HAVE YOU NO SHAME??!?!?!?!





Okaaaaay... getting a little too personal. Moving on... Again.



Nowadays we see rip-offs... rip-offs and more rip-offs.


Music is no longer about emotion or beautiful lyrics as it was in the past.

Whatever happened to good ol' composition?

Now we just repeat the same word/ words a lot, put beat on it and call it "music" (as bluntly put by Ryan Higa). Or worse, we take someone else's hardwork, tweek it a bit, throw a little lyrics (which we just rip off from some unknown book anyway)-- and the worst part of it is, we have the gall to call it "original".

Half of the "original" new pop songs I've heard are rip-offs from old forgotten love songs with new lyrics. That being said, I give props to the EMO songs... Seriously, they might be a bit gay but at least most of them are still original (with sweat and blood from adolescent boys and their lovers).

Even blogs, where people are supposed to put "their own" thoughts in are invaded by the pretense of originality.

Even television series are based on past movies. At least some of them put the title of the movie, others just pretend it's the writer's own. The twists are either lame or cheating (bringing someone dead to life, introducing an unknown character that wasn't given a sufficient background of, etc).

Even books (which, for me, are supposed to be a higher form of literature opposed to movies and such) just seem too familiar and predictable. Like I've read/ heard of the story line somewhere.

Even school papers. HAHAHAHA. I'm not gonna say any more.

Really? It's YOURS? You're not fooling anybody.



I'm not naming names.

I'm not blaming artists.

I'm not pointing fingers.

I'm not making a list of unoriginal musicians.

I'm not trying to be clean.






I just hope we try to nurture creativity and originality, rather than just skill and craftsmanship.



Or at least STOP STEALING OTHER PEOPLE'S HARDWORK DAMMIT! or MINE for that matter. (zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....) PLEASE understand how terribly IRKSOME it is for a person to see her own work with YOUR signature. 

Even if it is a thing of the past, it was still mine and you shouldn't have taken it in the first place.










Hahahaha. Just kidding. ^^ I'm just ranting. You know better than to take me seriously.
Tsk tsk tsk.




P.S. Usually I don't use the same words too many times, but I really couldn't find another word to describe "RIPPING-OFF"...

Common Sense, anyone?

COMON SENSE, ANYONE?


    There I was, in the condiments section of Chowking (Colon), when I was faced with an unanswerable question "Which one is the ketchup?". common sense? Not applicable.
    There were two colors: red and yellow.
    Common sense would tell you that red is ketchup and yellow is mustard...
    But common sense would also tell you that chinese restaurants don't need mustards...
    Another thing common sense would tell you is that one of them is bound to be soy sauce and therefore, less sticky than the other.
    I mean... For goodness sake! If both were ketchup and the other one was spicy, one of them should be ORANGE not YELLOW!
    So I ask a waiter, "hi... which one's the ketchup?" He answers, "both of them." He was looking at me as if I was being ridiculous or I was just asking him to get his attention. So I ask again, "Which one's the 'not-spicy' ketchup?" Then he answers, "the red one." I could almost hear the 'duh'... I mean COME ON! Give your customer a break! OTHER restaurants keep the original container for the spicy ketchups to HELP customers identify them... Use your common sense!

    And what is up with that "common sense" thing? I used up all my "common sense" and yet had to still ask the waiter which one was which. Is there really a "standard" for common sense? Can common sense really dictate how a problem can be solved?
    First of all, common sense doesn't seem to be "common" (as not everyone seems to know how to use it) nor is it a sense (five senses: sight, smell, hearing, touch and taste. where's "common"?). And as I've noticed, culture comes into how you use your common sense. Should it be called "cultural sense" then?
    For example: you meet someone new. So you shake his hand. Brief and firm, which "mostly" stands for confidence and masculinity. But in Africa, it's common sense to shake someone's hand limply and usually it can last for more than just a few seconds (which in an American's common sense, would mean physical attraction or flirtation). So how can your "common sense" interpret something like cultural norms?
   
    The answer: I think there is no such thing as common sense... if there was, it doesn't count for much. There is intelligence, instinct, cultural bias, moral inclination, etc... and we make our decisions based on that. Ironically, common sense is referred to as "perception" and "impression". Isn't that the thing we're supposed to avoid when we're going to use our common sense? Aren't we supposed to be aiming for some kind of higher knowledge?
    Call me impatient or even crazy, but I've always been pissed every time a teacher answers a question with "use your common sense". I wanted to answer "and which one would that be? sight?" I'd rather have someone tell me to use my brain than imply that I haven't been using my "common sense" (whatever that may be).

    Try googling "common sense". You'll find philosophical arguments and definition, but none of them really answer anything.

Ry's Ayala Debut

    So after months of staring at our backs as we get into the car and leave for the mall, Ry finally gets her own chance! Welcome to the wonderful world of Ayala Ry! (I was not paid to advertise this particullar mall.)

10 things I learned during this 4-hour experience:

1. Ry doesn't like strangers. Relatives or otherwise.

2. Don loves me so much. ♥ He carried Ry and took care of her most of the time during the trip, I finally had time to RELAX! ♥

3. Ry is a very patient baby. REALLY patient. There was this kid that was throwing a tantrum in front of everybody, which got me thinking "woooooh!! good thing that ain't my kid!".

    (Of course Ry doesn't know how to throw tantrums yet... But she's still a baby and she sat through the whole thing without complaint. We went to Touchpoint; waited for my aunt and grandmother; ate at McDonalds; waited some more (for my mom and sister who went to Watson's and National Book store); and she waited some more as we bought make-up and such. Four hours total, and not a single complaint. I ♥ Ry!)

4. Ry loves french fries. And when I say love, I mean can-eat-it-for-over-thirty-minutes-and-not-get-tired-of-it love.♥

5. Never get fake eyelashes, especially if you're wearing glasses. Don't ask, just do (or in this case, NOT DO).

6. Ry loves Timezone. Or if she doesn't... "I" love Timezone. And Don too... He loves Timezone. (hmmm... I should really get paid for this... haha.)

7. Halo-Halo Zagu is one of the best ideas anyone has ever had.♥

8. Shawarma is always a good filler when McDonalds isn't enough.♥

9. Ry likes being cuddled.♥ Doesn't everyone?

10. When having plans of sleeping in the APV, always bring PILLOWS... But Don's shoulder will have to suffice.

All about Audrey "Ry" Perez Comaingking...

this is a partial list of the things Ry wants/ likes/ loves (as of the moment...):

1. Ry loves eggnog. (the original one... not the chocolate one. bring it as a sign of friendship. hahaha.)

2. Ry only eats rice. (she doesn't like cerelac or soupy foods.)

3. Ry loves cellphones. (especially the ones with white light.)

4. Ry is very heavy. (don't attempt to carry unless you can withstand her weight.)

5. Ry loves being tickled. (if you don't tickle her properly, you're not her friend.)

6. Ry bullies Cedric (her doll). (in case you're wondering who that poor beaten up doll in her crib is.)

7. Ry loves to play with the computer mouse. (don't get her anywhere near it.)

8. Ry loves ice cream.

9. Ry loves the Backyardigans.

10. Ry loves her mommy (and daddy). (don't take her to a place where she can't see me... or there'll be hell to pay. ^^)

A Random Rant... About my day.

    I wake up, check to see if my baby is still asleep-- she usually isn't... She crawls over me and tugs at my shirt like a puppy waking her master. I ruffle her hair and play with her for a minute or so, before she screams (as if urging me to bring her out of the stuffy room and into the even stuffier living room.) I call for our maids to carry her outside, and I go back to sleep.
    My body seems to tire more often than not, but I have the inability to sleep on time. It might be the result of the C-section or just the constant strain in my brain from thinking too much. And although I use all my time thinking about things, it seems like I'm not thinking enough. I have so many things to think about yet I'm dissatisfied.
    So I dream a little before I wake up again, realizing it's a little after ten. By then Ry (that's my baby's name for those of you that don't know) will have been done taking a bath. I take her into my arms and cradle her until she wiggles free (as usual) and tugs at my shirt. Feeding time again. And I use the time to think... again.
    Just what exactly do I think about? I already know the things I should do and the things that I've already done, I don't have school for the moment so I don't need to fill my head with academic stuff. But I still use every waking moment thinking. Thinking too much... Thinking that my thoughts are still lesser than what my brain can actually come up with.
    By then, when I've finished contemplating on whatever I choose to alleviate my boredom for the moment, Ry looks at me curiously and touches my lip, then pinches it (so painfully, I might add), causing me to forget whatever it was that I was thinking about in the past minute or so. Or she might have noticed that I was out of it and pinched me to wake? Could be. But she's only 9 months old.
     I know that I think too much to block out the things that I don't wanna think about. Like "what do people REALLY think of me now that they've found out I'm a mom?" It's not like I care what they think, it's just that I don't like being labeled as "dirty". I've seen too many "dirty" girls to want to be put into the same category as them. But what exactly is the classification or qualification of "dirtiness"?
    I look at the clock and it reads 12:00. I know I should eat but I don't feel hungry, like eating is just a habit out of need-- eating used to be so much more than that. But nevertheless, even if I don't feel hungry, I get up and take Ry with me out of the room. I put her in her play pen and I look for something to eat (if there is any left... there usually isn't.).
    I check if the computer has been recently used (touch the power supply) and decide whether or not I should turn on the computer. When I sit down in front of the computer, Ry calls for my attention. I feel a little frustrated because I want time for myself too (like every other human being in existence).
    And so I get depressed and start thinking again. Trying to drown out the whines of my beloved infant.
    Don't get me wrong, I love her so much and I'm willing to give my life for her. but it's been over 9 months that I've constantly cared for her, when I, myself, still need to recover from the CS operation last year (my stitches still throb whenever I carry something heavy like Ry). And I've never openly compained until now.
    But my complaint shall only be about my need to recover. I know better than to complain when I have been blessed despite everything that has happened. (The gods do not look so kindly on teenage pregnancies.) I'm grateful to my mom for never leaving my side, and for everyone else who has been (in one way or another) somehow alleviating the aggravation and pressure that has been building up inside of me.
   
    I can't complain so I just shut up.
    I can't shut up so I just distract myself.
    I can't distract myself when my problem is in plain sight.
    I need some room to breathe, to think, to feel, to recover. It seems like all my life I have been shifting from one prison to another.


    And so I continue to live each day, thinking, thinking, thinking... just to stop myself from feeling.

30 things about ME (just to get the blog started)

1.) i was the pink ranger, like Karla-chan, when i was still a girl. I used to wear shades upside down to imitate her "look"...

2.) i haven't eaten pineapple (the actual fruit) for over 15 years... but i've eaten canned pineapple and such, in the days between.

3.) when we were still friends, i used to make fun of my husband about his last name... i still do, but i can't go all out (since we have the same last name now...)...

4.) i've always been the "ugly but smart" cousin... i used to pretend to be vain just so people would think i find myself pretty... but i really don't.

5.) i'm a feminist. i hate guys who think all women are alike.

6.) i don't generalize people based on gender.

7.) when i smell new newspapers, i always think of papercut. it's so unnerving.

8.) my dad used to say "you're the Jack of all trades but a master of none." it made me believe in myself and work hard to master more than one.

9.) the one thing (i'm sure) i've mastered is the English language.

10.) some people consider me an English dictionary and a calculator.

11.) i've always wanted to tell people who ask me the meaning (of a word) to "look it up"... but i always end up telling them what it means anyway... *sigh*

12.) my brother, Xavier, and my husband, Don, are the only males i would actually trust with my "life".

13.) usually (more often than not), i KNOW what a person is thinking but i just pretend otherwise... but sometimes, i DON'T know what a person is thinking and i pretend i do... hahaha...

14.) i can more or less understand spoken japanese...

15.) i know how to write and read basic chinese words... but i never speak chinese because i know i'm bad at it.

16.) whoever i was, 4 or so years ago, is not who i am now.

17.) i've written so many stories but they're all lost amidst the old notebooks and old pad papers.

18.) i've only danced in 5 discos in my entire life. 4 of them were during the sci-high acquaintance party, and the other 1 was on the ship on our way back to Cebu from Manila (when i went to Tagaytay).

19.) i actually had to look up the plural of disco before i wrote number 18. some dictionary i am.

20.) i don't like mistakes... mine or otherwise.

21.) i also think O.J. Simpson was guilty.

22.) i've always wanted to be a detective and solve mysteries... that's why i love observing people and how they react in certain situations.

23.) i love dressies although i don't look good in them, thus avoid wearing them. (and i don't act like a dress-loving person...)

24.) i believe that everything happens for a reason and that there are no accidents without cause.

25.) i love puzzle games. i have great respect for those who can beat me at puzzles.

26.) i love to sing...

27.) i secretly want to be in a broadway musicale or sing in an opera... (i'm proud of my ability to hit really high notes).

28.) i don't wanna sing songs that divas don't sing... (therefore i'm an aspiring diva).

29.) i love my baby boo and my husband (although i always seem to be harsh on them both.)

30.) i love PUNS.