The look
pensive
Almost over!
Thank God, November is almost done! I am just completely wiped out with the month’s activities. I’m so happy that it’ll end with my niece’s second birthday party. :)
But really, this month’s performance is a clear reflection of how badly I mismanaged my time. Whenever I’m in school, I think of work. Whenever I’m at work, I think of school. Everything in between just goes into a full blown mental battle — Dylan, Chuchi, Marga, Las Pinas, Lola, repeat to infinity. Today was a complete testament how much I misused my time.
Funny, November is also the month I had the least entries in my organizer. Huh. Perhaps the lack of entries is the reason for mismanagement…? Argh, it’s hard to blame something like this on an inanimate object.
Speaking of which, the holidays are definitely around the corner, and the heat is still bitchin’ here in the Philippines. For some, winter has settled in, but here, summer decided to stop by for coffee.
Holidays = shopping, so in spite of receiving the mandated 13th month pay…
This photo just made me crack up. And it’s a serious thing. No matter how many times I keep the receipts or try to account for my daily spending, I still can’t seem to trace where my money went.
I hope to get better at this before I start a family. I don’t think my husband would appreciate not knowing where I put his money. Hahahaha.
Okay, rant over. I just wanted to post an update. I didn’t want to think the moment I got my own domain, I started getting lazy with the posting. Besides, writing keeps me sane.
I should remember that.
Is it safe out there?
I am starting to rethink my going public with this blog. A few hours ago over dinner, my mom was just so cryptic in asking about my love life. Ew. I appreciate the concern, but still. My love life is not really dinner conversation. So yeah, I’m reconsidering publishing on Facebook.
I don’t know if anyone had noticed but I have changed my blog title! Whoopdedoooo. Or not really. I’m still thinking what could be a more memorable one, or at least something that others can easily associate to me. But then again, I don’t really have that wide of a readership.
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As the holidays come nearer and nearer, I can’t help but feel somewhat nostalgic. Lately, my days have been completely devoid of the holiday spirit. I’ve been trying to bring it back — actually, for some time there was even collective effort there — but then, it reverts to nonexistence, and I am here again tapping away.
I could use some hot cocoa though. With whipped cream. And tiny marshmallows.
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The wedding is so near and I am yet to lose the weight I am supposed to be losing. Ugh. I need to be more dedicated to this diet and workout regimen. He can’t be the only one sexy there.
He has always said he finds me sexy in any form. I believe him… until I look in the mirror.
My self-esteem badly needs a boost. And a new hobby.
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I miss his voice and the way he sings this song.
I hate this feeling.
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Photo nabbed from 1000 Notes.
Long week
It’s been a pretty long week and mainly, my frustrations stem from the fact that everything is shifting to high priority.
By everything, I mean everything. Work, Dylan, school, family — every bit is calling my attention and I can no longer turn a deaf ear.
Actually, I can. HAHAHA. It’s a skill, the refined art of procrastination. I’ll give you tips some other time.
But really, I’ll have to prepare for my upcoming midterms so for now, I’m leaving you with a song. It’s been playing over and over in my head for so many days now, and I want to kick my ass for not having this on my playlist.
And he told me that I’d done alright
And kissed me till the morning light, the morning light
And he kissed me till the morning light
From Hipster Lyrics
I miss you when it rains.
I miss you when it rains. My youth was filled with you carrying me from the jeep to the house so I won’t have to walk in through the flood. There are days when you’ll stop us from going down the first floor of the San Andres house because it’s flooded in, and you’ll come back up with tuyo and kamatis for breakfast.
You loved that house. You built that house. You built that home. We all grew up there. Our childhood wouldn’t have been complete without that house.
I remember you talking to my father, telling him how to handle his misfortunes. I have never seen my father respect anyone as much as he respects you. I honestly believe you are the only person he actually took advice from. I also believe he wanted to be a great head of the family like you.
You never finished grade school. Your wife barely made it to grade three. Yet your four kids graduated college, settled with their families, here and abroad, now giving their children ten times over what you have provided. Our parents, our aunts and uncles never stopped telling us how poverty and tough times left you unaffected. You helped when help was needed, regardless of bloodlines, reputation and linkages. There was nothing in your life that you never shared — from your roof, to your food, to your clothes. You shared everything, and that was the vision that your wife carries to this day.
And my God, you loved her so much. I have never seen a man love a woman that much. You hated her for a while, but one word, and you were back. You loved her so much. For as long as I can remember — actually, from the day I started to find out what it’s like to “date” a guy — the only desire I had was to be loved the way you loved her. And you looked at her everyday as if it’s the first time you’re seeing her. Endless fascination. Pure admiration. Smitten. Swooning. Constantly, unending.
Our lives were completely changed with your passing. Though we know it is part of the natural cycle, I guess not one of us ever imagined a day without you. Your smile. Your laughter. The way you cry when you miss us so much. The way you survey our boyfriends and girlfriends and give out approving nods when you like them. Your protection. Your touch. Your love.
I miss you so much. It’s been years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of not seeing you. I hate the fact that when I decide to get married, you won’t be there. I may be the only one saying it now, but I know all of us left here are thinking it: though our lives go on everyday, it remains incomplete without you.
We buried you on a rainy day. I think the heavens mourned with us, though I selfishly think not enough. Each time we go to your spot, it rains. Each time we think of visiting you, it rains. It’s like the rain is you, and you’re all over us. You’re around us and I can taste you and I can feel you and I feel lonely and composed at the same time.
I miss you so much. You should see your great granddaughter. She’s a spitting image of you.
I miss you when it rains. And lately, it’s been raining a lot. So yeah, I miss you a lot. But to be honest, there was never a day I did not miss you this much.
the salt of your skin 