Sucks

When has shopping ever been so depressing? Oh yeah, it's when you remember you're one of the unfortunate people with unmanageable genes. The dressing room area is the worst, because the sharp realization hits you.

Good God, I'm cursed with turkey legs and hobbit feet. (!!!)

*insert bloodcurling scream here*

There are no "upsides" to this-- unless you're thinking about your bum, which is more of a downside, you know? (Oh, somewhere over the rainbow of this ass of mine, I'll get there...)

This is so BLOODY wrong. And unfair.

Fudge you sizes. Fudge you genes. Fudge you frickin clothes on those frickin skinny mannequins.

Fudge this day.


Gaaaah, leave me alone. Let me wallow in my misery.
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To let you know: I let out teen angst at 10.52 pm.

Hair and other things

It's been a while since I drew anything. I wuff the yummy bubblegummy pinkypink hair.



Inspired by the Camy and Me comic, I suppose, since I remember wanting to try out his style. There is some semblance of it, though it's nowhere near accurate replication.

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So... what to say? The last substantial post was about the grocery store (though not sure if anecdotes like that come from a sane person). As for the camp, I think I've told enough people about it, dissected every part until I'm tired of hearing about it myself. So, no, I'm not going to write it here. To give you an vague idea of what was running through my mind at the time, let me quote:

"I can't believe I played sissy war games!!!"

Wuss is us. Oh well. Maybe I can laugh about it with my grandchildren...

Still, nothing beats the Baguio camp-- the first and the best. Kahit na hindi ako naligo dun nang dalawang araw. Kahit na sobrang naiihi na ako sa lamig. Kahit na onting mali sa pagtapak ay pwede ka nang mahulog sa bangin. Kahit na nadapa ako't nadisgrasya habang, take note, habang papunta sa lababo para maghugas ng pinggan (walking disaster, grabe, hindi pa ko tumakbo nun). Kahit na nabasa yung tents namin sa ulan. Kahit na nabasa ung Skittles ko sa jacket at naging rainbow-colored ito.

Walang tatalo sa childhood mehn! Hahaha. That was six years ago. Nung ten years old pa ako at hindi marunong makihalubilo sa mga ate. Salamat kay Ate Camille Illustre (May she rest in peace. Amen.) Buti na lang hindi sila nainis sa pagka-kiddie ko dati. Yata.

HAHA.

And again.

Visit this: http://mars4.blogspot.com/

click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it! click it!

Or just paste it on your address bar. (Sorry, HTML illiterate here).

It's a comic series called Camy and Me by Elbert Or. You know I wouldn't recommend a link unless I REALLY like it. And I love this one. Hahaha, and the art is cute too. Wooh, wish I could draw that good.

I'm putting it next to my local comic list:

-Life in Progress
-Flip
-Pugad Baboy
-Beerkada
-Camy and Me

The first two are from Manila Bulletin. It's too bad they're in that anal newspaper. Oh well.

I wonder if Camy and Me has a compiled version...

Bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun fun fun fun fun

Breathe. Camp tomorrow. Nothing big. Musn't spend time in stupefied silence. Like that time in the grocery yesterday. According to my cycle, the next period starts promptly on Friday, which means I have to buy sanitary pads. There was a stocker (what do you call those shelving guys?) there, who was blocking the view because he was reaching up and down and restocking Kotex or whatever. Well usually I'd buy Whisper but because all sanitary pads end up in the trash can anyway, I was browsing for a cheaper brand. So there I was, calmly waiting for him to finish, although it was becoming rather evident that he was going to take an ungodly amount of time before he gets done. Had to make pointedly polite brwosing noises behind his back while pantomiming looking around. He finally got the point, and calmly moved to the other end of the aisle. Now I was free to compare prices. Took about ten obssessively solid minutes of asking and arguing with Dad and Bianca in alteration about leak-protection quality of Modess and Kotex and Libresse and Charmee-- you get the picture. And then spent three minutes miserably reflecting on the ultimate swing vote factor, which is the price and the packaging. The information at the back did no good. It's just then I realized how similar ALL of their backs are. Helpful stuff, how charming. Like that Nestle Fresh Milk commercial...

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Sorry, sanitary pad escapades shouldn't be blatantly exposed on something as public as this. I must be off my rocker. 11 o'clock pm everybody. Good night.

Social Graces

Two days away til camp. Suddenly feeling pretty anxious, particularly since I remembered I dislike dealing with loooads of people-- you can say I'm finicky and all that blah but don't call me anti-social, because (as I often tell people) it's a mental disorder-- and I'm not crazy, yet. (And I hate it when people use the term loosely.) Bianca's also talking on the phone with a camp friend in this irritatingly GUSHY voice. Which means that she's mutating into this girly-girl-I'm-like-yeaaah-uhuh thing. EW.

Drives me up the wall, thinking about it.

But then, maybe it wouldn't be that bad. It's just a matter of going with teh flow, you know what I'm saying? You talk, I talk back, which is a pretty simple thing to remember in the rules of etiquette for dummies. That is, of course, if I like you enough to go through the pain of being polite. In my world, when I have nothing to say to you, I leave it at that. Simple. I mean, why cut off your arm trying to make decent conversation with a stranger when it all boils down to being awkward? As far as I go, embarrassment is not my friend (unless you're sadistic), the same way bad photos are. Makes me hate myself.

Oooh, angsty line over there.

Why do I feel like clawing someone's eyes out?
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Tennis tomorrow. More intense butt-firming activities. Hooray.

The relevance which is

It just struck me. Maybe I should write about something other than myself.

Camp is just three days away. I'll be gone until Sunday. Fun-- I think. I hope.


Which reminds me, in a roundabout, unconnected sort of way, of Gawad Kalinga, or more specifically, the organization that started it all, CFC. I'm not really sure if the people included in CFC, KFC or even YFC ("Yuffuck", ika nga ng iba; HAHAHA, I feel sorry for you) know their real history.

To put it in plain terms, without the frills and thrills, CFC started out as an evangelical program for couples of LNP, which is the Ligaya ng Panginoon. Members of LNP served CFC activities and stuff, and it became so successful that CFC wanted to pull away because they thought that LNP was hindering their plans or whatever. So they did.

I'm not saying that CFC is a bad group-- just that they should at least recognize where they came from. But the past is past, and I shouldn't get involved with old people's quarrels.

Hahaha, para sa mga kaklase kong YFC, alam ko yung mga kanta sa praise and worship niyo, pati yung feeling ng mga paguusap-usap tungkol sa crush. I KNOW IT ALL!!! Haha, parang psycho.

Ewan, siguro nagkaiba lang tayo sa camp. Sabi ni Melinda na boring daw. Wanna try our camp? Mas masaya. HAHA, advertising na ba ito?

Well anyway, ifever my classmates do read this, you know who to thank-- or hate. May kilala rin akong ayaw sa YFC. Haha.
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Coincidence? O baka masama talaga yung experience ni Zarah sa Food Poisoning? Beri gud, help save the world from stomachaches. Suspetsa ko rin hindi yan pumunta sa Medical-Dental Mission kahit inassign ko sila ni Ja.

What of the world?

My sisters went to PACES tutorial center (?), which is in Katipunan. And they dragged me along. Whoopee.

Mom REALLY wants Ate to get into UP, so she's making her take up AHEAD and PACES (as a supplement) simultaneously. Which would be fun, in my opinion. Bianca's getting some Math tutoring to help her when she gets to highschool.

The room, or office, was of moderate size, adequately furnished, which you could describe as neither cramped nor sparse. In a word (if you're looking for one), it was NEAT.

Upon entering the glass doors, you have an 18th-century (at least I think it was) couch to your left: large and comfortable. It blended nicely with my skirt, which was of nearly the same color. Well. At least I wouldn't get in the way.

There were about four desks in the room further on. Print materials were stacked neatly on shelves and, I assume, drawers.

The best thing about it though was the air-con; You know what I mean.

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Bianca was given a diagnostic test to determine her Math skill level.
She had a small pile of eraser dirt by the end of it.

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Basically that's it. Pretty much a boring day, unless you count nearly going crazy with the heat.

It's nice driving around Katipunan. Window-watching, anyone? (Haha, bati lang ako sa Ate kong mahilig mag-boy scouting. Laging handa!)

Ah. Genius burns.

I chanced upon Paolo Manalo's blog. He wrote Jolography, and is a Palanca awardee or something. I don't really know him. Hehe. I just read it in his bio, which is that column over there. If you want to take a look, this is his blog: http://paolomanalo.blogspot.com

Just found his poem highly interesting. He says:

"The truth is what was taken
Was maybe got, as in the heavy
Pare heavy, mostly labo."

Cool.

He uses that to discuss Acquisition, Juxtaposition and Transliteration.

Oh the joys of being a literary artist! Maybe I could do several in-depth discourses on the importance and function of the coma, the semicolon, the hyphen, the quote marks...