Afternoon Soapshows

I skipped dinner last night because I didn't wake up from my nap. I woke up at about 2:14 am with gastrointestinal paaaaain. It's peculiar how I seem to seek warmth when I'm in this state. I wanted to curl up and burrow deep into my blanket, alas, with no success. I alternated between bed and the bathroom. Hindi ako makapili. Gusto ko na bahayan yung banyo, kahit wala akong ginagawa dun. Seryoso. I finally fell asleep in bed again and began dreaming. Yeah, that's the best part. Though I drifted into consciousness at the latter part, just as it was getting better and it turned cheesy, as all dreams go when a human manipulates it. Sucks. Constant retrieval of the dream memory mutated it into some horrible... THING, so I'm tucking it away now to erode all the extra scenes I made up as I went along.

Carissa was absent today. Which means that I'm stuck with all the undesirable people in my club. Boo. I severely refused to open my mouth unless necessary, with uninterested body language to match. Conversation between my fellow batchmate and I spanned about three sentences. (This, I feel, would be an appropriate time for a mini-rant.)

I can't understand why some people these days, in spite of my belief that the strain has actually died down, are still suffering from Braggartosis, a noxiously annoying virus affecting people of all shapes, sizes and states. Last year it was Teh Bunneh. Now this year it's the Windbag. Though not as aggrievedly infected as the former, IT still never fails to irritate, being afflicted with the same type of Braggartosis: Type B. And what, exactly, is type B? More properly, first what is A? Type A is the bare-faced kind, loud, and though it is a turn-off, it does have its hilarity, especially when faults are exposed and one becomes the fraud, the fool and the faker. Type B, to put it visually, is like an itch on your nose. It starts small but you don't take notice. Then it becomes worse, but you don't know where to scratch. And finally it drives you crazy. People like this often attach unnecessary statements in conversations, in hopes that they'll get noticed afterall with, even more infuriatingly, the "pa-humble effect". Example:

Carissa: When did Spongecola perform again? Was it three years ago? Or two?
Me: I think three years ago...
IT: No, it was two years ago, cause I already had a CELLPHONE by then and I took down their manager's number, which was announced over the mic, blah blah blah...

WTF?! That was totally unnecessary! Nakakagigil. I'm sorry if I sound vindictive. No, wait. I'm NOT sorry. Cause most of the things IT said was done with this I-feel-so-cool swagger and a smug smile. Ergh!

Buti na lang puro matterload kami sa club kanina. PC lang kaharap ko. I lost myself in reading up on Cha-cha, which is interesting. I got to the same site I found benign0 and Duck Vader's argument in. Which has posters and POSERS alike. After the article there are usually comments displayed. And most were good and substantial. The only problem was that most people got carried away with their "superiority" and started "debating" with the other posters. I say that with quote marks because that's what they FEEL like doing, I suppose, though I'm not sure if they got that right. There was even someone named "Assumptionista" there who posted (though she lives in Makati and from that I guess she's in San Lo), and got flamed by another guy for some points and grammatical errors. I judge from the capital letters and excess of violent punctuation marks that "Assumptionista" was NOT happy with the criticism, especially on the grammatical point of view. From what I read, those errors were very minor and perhaps at the most three. The arguments got more tangled as I read along, with more and more people torching one another and acting arrogant and superior and stuff (mga feeling matalino argh!). Anyway, there were good points, nonetheless, and I seemed to agree with each one, only to change my mind as I read along and then change it again and again and again... You get the picture.

Damn. I hate debates. I hate arguments. Dey so messy, mai gahd.

I'll leave debating to more "intelligent" life forms.

We got picked up at around a quarter to six from school. Late na naman yung sundo (kapitbahay/carpool). Dilat na kami sa kahihintay. Syempre, inis nanaman ako, pero tahimik lang. Binigyan kami ng banana-cue. And that's when the trouble started.

Etong si Ate Justine, walang konsiderasyong tinutulak si Paola palayo sa pwesto niya sa harap. E kasi naman si Paola, na mga apat o tatlong taong gulang lang, lumaking spoiled at sanay na tumayo at maglakad-lakad kung saan-saan sa Starex. Inaaway siya ni Ate Justine. Iyak naman tong si Paola, yung tipong walang luha. More like a WAIL. Poooootek. Family drama na naman. Nagagalit na rin si Tita Joy. Si Ate Justine, kung sino pang panganay, siya pa yung hindi nag-aalaga. Nananadya na matusok si Paola ng barbecue stick na matulis para hindi na lagay ni Paola yung paa niya sa pwesto ni Ate J. Kainis. Kala mo kung sinong anghel na mayumi pag kasama niya si Conji (Join the Club bassist). Sarap silang lahat sakalin at pag-umpugin para tumahimik na yung buong kotse. Sumasakit yung ulo naming lahat pag umiiyak yung batang yun.

I had to look away.

Psychotic urges-- must control--!!!

Maghuhugas na ko ng pinggan. Tumpak na namang maging dishwasher pag may bisita (a nun from Malaysia). GAAAAAAARH~! Ayoko maghugas!!!!