One Of The Last Of My Sentimental Posts

There is a reason why The Jowa has reached Exceptional Love status- he isn't my groupie.

I realized that for me to be truly in love with a man, the man must not, never ever, put me on a pedestal, salivate over me and basically, worship me. I guess I don't have that big of an ego as I originally thought.

Don't get me wrong- I love to be loved by the man love. The warmth it feeds you, the way it heals you when you need to be fixed, the way it makes you poised for everything that comes your way, the certainty that no matter what happens, it will never disappear-love is quite possibly the one potent thing in the world. However, much as I love being loved, I can never feel complete knowing that there is imbalance in that love. I don't want to love more and be loved less. Worse, I don't want to be loved by someone I don't see in the same light.

Also, I guess this is a part of getting older (nag-feeling hehe), I realized that when I look at ballers, so-called hearthrobs, rich, fancy dudes with xylophone abs and trust funds, instead of being interested, I am repelled. Now, I dig nerds, geeks, silent, average-Joe types who have no time for such crap as beer or partying at some club. Idig the beautiful nerdy, shy boy because he is my jowa. I love the fact that he gets tipsy with red wine. Ah, how I love my celestial light.

It is long overdue but I am very, very pleased to report that The Jowa and I are doing much, much better. Gone are the torments of our previous breakup, gone are the demons that scare us both into thinking that we are wasting our time. Now we can just focus on enjoying our time together and working hard to maintain the relationship.

This is not to say that everything is perfect. Of course not. What we have is too flawed. At times, boring and annoying. We are a work in progress. Every love story is. But like any other love story, we deserve to gloat about our little fortunes once in a while.

(Wala lang, sharing and updating mode lang.)

:)

Yay! Babaw Post

Just thought I'd share how I look using LaurEss' Ethereal Foundation in Soft Yellow. I did this when I was sick last Wednesday. I stayed at home, took a nap and did a bit of practicing after. Not perfect, I know. But it's just foundation. No powder, no blush, no primer. So medyo eek.

Hahahaha.

(photos deleted)

Junebug

I finished cleaning my room and organizing my files three weekends ago. It took me entirely two days to finish sorting out important documents, receipts, invoices, statements, letters. I didn't realize that I had been collecting so much stuff I didn't actually need and would never need. I was never a pack rat but I suppose the paranoia that the US dumps on every immigrant, the idea that everything is important got to me to such extent that everything truly became indispensable when in reality, they're not. Now, my cabinets are only about half-full and my desk looks like a desk again, instead of a dumpster.

My biggest problem now, though are those documents that have my info on them. People told me to get a shredder but I'm just not satisfied with that because in my head, weirdos can look inside my trash can and just rearrange the papers. So what I do is I cut every letter in itty-bitty pieces. It takes me half an hour to finish about 10 documents and with about 200 papers to sort and destroy, I need an entire weekend to finish up. I wish it's ok to burn paper here, like in The Philippines. Siga. Sigh. Someday, someone will invent a Super Fine Micro-Shredder with really sharp, really fine blades that can cut even the smallest letters into a million pieces, almost dust-like. Sana yung someday, bukas na. Dali, para abot sa 4th of July sale. Bwahahahaha.

Anyhoo, now I can start looking for driving schools. I took my vision exam two weeks ago, I think and I was not declared legally blind, thank God. The afternoon I spent memorizing the letters in the vision exam was a total waste because they asked me to read a different set of letters. You know that black camera-like thing they use for those with really bad eyes? Yeah, that's what I used. Sayang, I even devised a code so I can easily recall the letters.

Then for my birthday, I took three days off from work. The original plan was to go out of town, Catalina Island or any beach but due to the Jowa's terrible schedule, we just had dinner and lunch and dinner and lunch and dinner and lunch. What I dread is that I didn't get to wear this dress I've been wanting to wear to one of our dates. You know how it is, you shop, you primp and then boom! The one person you want to admire your efforts isn't there to see it. Medyo ganun, only, the effort wasn't there to be admired. Bwahahaha. I'd stick out like almoranas if I forced it so I didn't.

But it was a good celebration. I even think that it is my most favorite birthday because it is the first birthday spent with the Jowa and corny as it may sound, it's the people around you who really matter. Sentiments from that person, from people, closeness, conversations, tenderness, silences. Where I come from, that's rare. I couldn't have asked for more.

So that was June. This month is probably not much different, except there's not much to celebrate. Lately, I've been thinking about a drastic career move that I might regret but at the same time, feels so great. The job has gotten too comfortable, like an old, trusty lover who you actually despise, but because the unknown is scary, I am settling. Give me guts, world. Make everyday my birthday, a chance for rebirth, revolt.

Tagged

Oh dearie, we love ourselves too much. But since it's from Christina, I'm excited:

10 Random Facts About You (About me, Debbie. Of Course.)

1. I make up stories about people in my head. Like, the Hispanic lady who cut my hair last night was living from paycheck to paycheck because her former lover abandoned her and their lovechild. Or the Korean man I ride the bus with is a widower and is on the lookout for a new wife.

2. I yearn to change my look everyday. Like an everyday Madonna, constantly reinventing herself. But I'm too chicken. For instance, I was planning to dye my hair red or burgundy but at the last minute, I went to light golden brown. In my head, I'll be so decided that I'll make a drastic change but I end up not changing that much at all.

3. I realized that if there's any part of me that's really manly, it's my desire for solutions, which is why despite how tragic a situation is, instead of feeling sorry, I'm actually more irritated when the ones involved whine and avoid the real issue. It's so unproductive, a total waste of time and energy and quite cowardly.

4. When I'm upset, to me, pretty much everyone in the world is an idiot. Haha. Sorry. I don't get upset that much and I realized that not only are you not your best self when you're mad, you're also not your most honest self. I mean, sure, I think there are idiots out there but I don't really believe I've encountered one. In person.

5. My greatest pet peeve is repeating myself. Worse if the topic is completely insignificant from my end.

6. I really do banyo concerts, especially when I was in The Philippines. In between splashing my head with water from the tabo, while I'm scrubbing my scalp with shampoo, I'd belt out and try to imitate the voices of the artist. Now, I have progressed to bedroom and kitchen concerts.

7. I plan in my head different combinations for my clothes and accessories. I do this the week before or the month before. But everyday, I get up and just grab whatever it is that I can find. No one can really accuse me of not being able to plan. I just very rarely deliver.

8. I'd shoot myself before I read The Secret.

9. I think everything that's bad in our family's DNA has been passed on to me. I have the worst legs, worst skin, worst temperament, worst hair, worst eyes, worst body, worst metabolism, worst overall health. If not that, I must be one of life's guinea pigs. It's like the gods all went out with this clay and decided to test whether unruly hair, love handles and chicken legs go together.

10. I am pleasantly surprised that in some cases, I think of a certain belief and discover that a famous thinker has thought of the same thing as well. Take for instance this note from Frank Lloyd Wright on Mamah Cheney: she placed womanhood above all. Something to that effect. Before I read that, I already posted in my other blog this order: woman, lover, mother, etc.

Hehe. Wala lang. Masaya lang.O siya. Yun na yun.:)

The Blog Changed

The old title was decrepit and though it wasn't, as a casual, objective observer, it was just all too pretentious. I felt rushed at the time, so uninspired. Well, this one is too bwahahaha but at least, it's not centered on any one thing anymore. Who cares about California, really? Who cares about a Pinay in it? No one. But who cares about me? Well, me. Bwahahahaha

Now if I can just change the address... Sayang. Ayan, lesson mga bata: huwag magmadali. I was too excited kasi eh, to start a new blog apart from the one I have in Multiply, which I am thinking of deleting and turning into some storage of pictures. Oh well.

But I am liking this new look. Although a bit of a bore, it's easier on the eyes. Plus, the space is wider. It's more me. (Meaning, I'm a pretty fatty? Nyahahaha joke.)

Hay okay. Goodbye for now. Just really wanted to explain the changes.

:)

No Coach For Me

Wait 'll just try this. So cute : ही। माय नेम इस देब्बिए। Hihi.

I don't think I'll ever buy a designer bag. Or any bag that costs more than $30. No, I have no problem with people splurging on themselves anymore. But my reason now is personal and the reason is: my aunt was diagnosed with lung cancer.

I didn't take the news well. Well, I didn't break down and cry. My aunt and I weren't that close. So-so. Still, she's always been to me, a permanent figure in our family. She's just always there and I spent my entire life living next door to her and eversince I left The Philippines, living with her. While she never made any attempt to be mom-like to me or to my sister, she was the closest to a mother we could have. But yeah. I didn't take the news very well. Because instead of hugging her, which I should have done but because I am cold and distant, I took the logical approach- what are we going to do about it?

The doctor told her that she would need to have an operation. The tumor is already as big as half of her left lung but in order to have that operation, we need to apply for some kind of aid. If we don't get that aid, the option is to pay out of pocket, money that we actually don't have. The other option is to have the operation in The Philippines, where it's probably cheaper.

She did decide, though it's not final, that she wouldn't have the operation. I believe she's very scared. She says it'll probably kill her faster than the cancer could. I asked her if it's possible to have chemo instead of having that tumor dug out and destroyed. It's just as difficult but anything to keep her alive.

I believe she will go home soon, though, given the situation. Either way, she'll want to be in The Philippines. Love is indeed most solid at the time of death (GGM) and now, her love for her children and her old life weigh more than her love for herself.

But going back, I have now decided to have a fund for my personal, imminent death. Hey, it's just as likely as anyone's end. No one knows. But I vow to start a fund for when I get sick, hospitalized. Sure, I'll have fun but now I get why my father gets mad when my sister buys bags and watches she doesn't need. Stuff that arouse her interest and satisfy her material craving. Now I am more than happy to have a father who thinks very far into the future, who knows what's essential, who knows that there's no higher physical craving than to stay healthy and fight for life when it's being threatened.

Best of luck to my aunt. I'm googling doctors. There's no time to waste.

Free Willies

Friendster depresses me. I have friends who are budding lawyers, nurses, entrepreneurs, artists and here I am, typing away in Blogger, just so I could have something to do.

I need to study. Sometimes I wish I'm back in The Philippines. Here, my degree is almost just a bit better than a high school diploma. Stupid American superiority complex.

But studying will cause me a lot, will take its toll on my health. Just like it did when I was in college. Education causes stress. Stress causes my breakouts. My breakouts cause me ballooning medical expenses. Medical expenses will cause me to cut down on other needs. Cutting down on other needs will mean less joy, less energy, less drive. Less drive will make me hate what I'm doing. If I hate it, I'll be more stressed.

It's a neverending cycle that points me to this: maybe I should just marry a rich, dying old man. Do a Brenda 90210. Do an Ana Nicole. Do the pukey handjob.

But I can't. My breasts are neither a size F nor am I a pole-dancing vixen.

However, I have settled on taking my bachelor's in English when the time is ripe and the money is a-plenty (somehow) with a Single-Teaching Option and a Minor in Creative Writing. I am worried about the job that awaits me after that but I figured the teaching bit will suffice for certain needs while the minor will just be for my enjoyment. I was looking at the subjects and found my insides throbbing with excitement: British Lit, Shakespeare, Classics, Victorian Age- ahh. I told my sister that I don't know if I am up for this, if I could actually be good enough for this. I am not a very good writer and not very great at giving instructions either, to which she said, "But you're a better writer than me." Haha. Ate talaga, always using herself as the standard.

But I refuse to fear, refuse to complain anymore. I've been doing a lot of that lately. I think going to school here will boost my declining confidence in myself. I've been self-pitying for quite sometime, due to my measly salary and my jagged career but all that is just not working for me and I doubt it ever worked for anyone.

It's been two years. It's time for a new life. Only Proust can be Proust.