January 2011
6 posts
Bean counting.
What is up with this obsession to categorize and summarize shit?!?
Anyway, highlights of 2010 in bullet points:
progressing from shoulder length curly hair to undercut, highlighted, almost pixie ‘do
maximizing summer with Welsh friends
bonding with roomies
single malt scotch whiskey (now fave: Glenmorangie)
the discovery of cutting damo with yosi = genius!
surviving 1 year of...
December 2010
9 posts
Things we say to ourselves.
Toc-toc-toc-toc.
I am inside a jeepney, bags in hand, everything in a wash of desert yellow, and I focus on the sound. It’s the sound a knife makes when it comes in contact with a plastic chopping board.
Toc-toc-toc-toc.
The sound of breakfast prep. I am on my parents’ couch. God knows what time it is.
My mother squeals while reading an email from her former co-worker turned...
Ugleh duckling.
Sometimes, I’m positively convinced that my primary school experience was a social experiment. I grew up being race-blind, only to painfully realize in secondary school that regular folks tend to cling to their race (and subsequently, their clans attached to race) like a lifevest on open water.
I discussed this with my bro a couple of days ago, who was shaped by the same upbringing, and...
Your answer.
Dear Clamshell,
Perhaps it was one sided, in some way or another…hmm?
Love,
Your inner dialogue
Clamshell.
I wonder if I should be happy that I am still not jaded. I still get hurt when I step into the world of grey.
I reach out for friendship, they close the door; keep me at a safe distance. I am not used to rejection. I feel inadequate. Was not there a sense of friendly intimacy? Was it, is it, all a farce? Why do I keep on trying to reach out? Shouldn’t I have learned from rejections past?
...
well pleased.
I don’t appreciate Peter Pan syndrome because I’ve been waiting for so gddamn long to become an adult that I relish being one. “I want to protect my little child” = child wanting to bust out at every possible opportunity.
I’d like to say that being an adult gives a feeling of entitlement: “I can do the fck I want, given the resources available to me. I can...
disappoint.
i’ve been doing that to a couple of folks i know.
strange how getting older means seeing people’s BS for what it is.
sometimes, i wonder if i’m inflicting karma on one of them: here’s to not being there for you when you weren’t there for me.
obviously not yet a full-fledged adult.
Yellow brick road.
December 10, ‘10: Every day, it feels more like home. A place - home - not just people home. It is remarkable for me for a place to feel like home as I move places so often.
Not bad for almost 3 years of living in vancity. It took me 9 years for certain parts of the p.i. to feel like home…such a hostile environment for non-conformists! shudder And the irony is that a lot of Filipinos...
Nulliparous.
I like the term. It feels like a negation. Empty space.
Thus, bullet points (on the side of long-ish) on why I prefer to keep it that way:
- You know how you can leave a cat locked up in a house alone as long as you leave them food? Well, did you know you can do that to 4 year olds as well? I spent a lot of my “formative” years locked up at home, with food in the kitchen (or in my...