OF SHOPPING & MEN

July 29, 2006 at 2:57 am | Filed under joyful girl, technicolor lover

I know I said I wouldn’t go shopping. Lalalala, the day I said that, I ended up in Gateway— for necessities, though. Stuff like toiletries (bahtroom tissue, pantyliners, toothpaste, razors etc), orlando vacations, and groceries (coffee and cigarettes). And, umm, new earrings.

Then the other day, I found myself at Debenhams purchasing a box of denier 15 tights in black worth almost what I make in one working day. So in working class Third World words— overpriced stockings. Five pairs of them. Sosyalan!

It’s the Mary-Kate Olsen wannabe in me.

I came home a happy nearly-broke bunny with more new earrings, three new pairs of panties, two new books, and diet pills. MK, I will be a half-assed Asian version of yooou!

 

Twice now, I have willingly given up the chance to meet up with Surfer Boy. Rather, twice now, I have chosen D over Surfer Boy. Thursday night, he had invited Aa and I to Zambapalooza— an event organized by the Manila Surfer’s Association. I accidentally told D and he pulled a “partying and boys again???” line on me.

So I ended up at D’s place instead of 6 Underground that night. I had work, but decided to screw the first half of my shift. Umm, yes. <3<3<3

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BECAUSE I REALLY DO LOVE MY JOB. KINDA.

July 28, 2006 at 11:08 am | Filed under a waste of human capital

Starting next week, D is going to stop taking in calls, being “promoted” from team buddy to sales coach.

There’s a chance my team (Team Mnemosyne) is going to be dispersed because our Team Leader might be promoted to Senior Team Leader. So off the ten of us go in different directions.

Our team buddy, Bing (Buddy Bing-Bling!), is going to be a sales coach.

Microsoft wants to get Maf and Carmi.

Vida is joining Project Phoenix— she hasn’t been meeting her goals, so she has one month to get out of Phoenix. Or else she faces termination.

That leaves Aa, Trea, Kath, Mommy Ems, Jomo and I wondering where we’ll be going. LOL, acne treatment, LOL.

Shit. The sales coaches will be in charge of Evolution (new agents) and Phoenix (bottom agents). Rawr. I hope D and I get the same schedule. :(

I WANT TO STAY IN MNEMO FOREVER!!!

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“EXCUSE ME FOR FEELING!”

July 26, 2006 at 9:02 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, ditz drivel, technicolor lover

Last night, I came to work with 12 pesos and 30 centavos in my wallet. Not counting, of course, the 150 pesos I paid for my cab— 100 of which I had to borrow from Allah because my bank’s ATM wasn’t dispensing cash.

But hohoho, commissions from these past two weeks were credited last night. I’m money-ed again :woohoo:. Must resist the following:

• the daily Starbucks habit
• shopping

The rent is due in one week, after all. :hmph:

D is the hottest biatch on earth. I’m wearing my white undies that I had him sign with his initials and the only thing that’s keeping me from pulling down my jeans in front of him is the fact that over 200 people would bear witness to such a scene. Rawr.

Anyway. In other news, I smell a scammer.

Also. I’ve had enough of my bosses flirting with me. Seriously. I’m not being arrogant or cheeky here. It’s flattering, sure, but it’s uncomfortable and D always takes it against me.

PS: Allah bought the Stars Are Blind CD single. Five versions of the song, yo. We’ve been playing it over and over again (alternating it with Fiona Apple’s The First Taste— stripper music!) since Saturday. I caught my next-door neighbor singing along two days ago :D.

PPS: Sunday night was B-Movie night. The Hillz was flipping horrible, but we’re big Paris Hilton geeks. SO.

PPPS: Even though the gods are crazy! Even though the stars are blind! If you show me real love, baby, I’ll show you miiii-iiiine!
Wouldn’t it have been more awesome if it were titled Gods Are Crazy? :)

EDIT// I AM VERONICA MARS. FUCKING VERONICA MARS, YA HEAR!

Scammer scammer. Basically, I have her CC/system log-in ID because the customer she processed an order for called back complaining no one could pull up her information. I took note of the agent’s ID because I found three things wrong with the order:

• invalid order number given to the customer
• Louisiana state abbreviation was ‘LO’
• credit score: customer was informed she had 5/0/0. I retrieved credit: 2/150/150

I was peeing when it hit me: in the beginning, all new agents have the same password. My CC log-in is cc882213. Scammer’s CC log-in is cc893648— meaning scammer is from a later wave/batch. So. I log in using scammer’s CC ID and the default password. VOILA, MOTHERFUCKER, “Welcome *insert scammer’s name here*!”.

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TALKING DIRTY AT WORK…

July 21, 2006 at 9:14 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, ditz drivel, technicolor lover

…is sexy call center rock. :spin:

I have a twitch in my right eye. ZOMG, am I finally working too hard?

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HELL NO, MISTER.

July 9, 2006 at 2:43 am | Filed under bitchin' a ride, made in the Philippines, technicolor lover

In all my years of taking cabs to get from one place to another, I can only count two aggravating instances that made me wish I had:

• an airgun
• superhero powers (so I could fucking knockout Mr Cab Driver and leave without a trace)
• my own car so I wouldn’t have to hail another cab– EVER
• my own boyfriend (one who is available 24/7) with his own car and willing to drive me anywhere and everywhere

As luck would have it, tonight had to be the third.

It started with me half-wobbling from my building to the main road— 100 meters of sucking on a cigarette and carefully avoiding puddles because I was wearing my new pink satin slingbacks, damnit. And I was late, so double damnit.

I finally reached Katipunan Avenue, stopping across Starbucks where I usually flag down cabs. I didn’t last five seconds— suddenly all these Katipunan Street Adolescents flocked towards me. “Ma’am, taxi, ma’am?” I CAN FUCKING HAIL A CAB ON MY OWN, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I don’t need you to get me one, in exchange for five pesos. Do you know what I can buy for five pesos??? Two sticks of Marlboro Reds, that’s what!

So I walked, no, SAUNTERED away from them. They threw some snide remarks at my direction LIKE THEY FUCKING MATTER.

I finally hailed an empty cab. I climb in and tell the driver to take me to Ayala Avenue. He tells me to add 30 bucks on top of whatever the fare would amount to— “because it’s already nighttime”. SO?

Filipino cab drivers are greedy little asshats, did you know that? My professor in International and Globalized Economy was once faced with a cab driver who asked for an extra 50 pesos. He (my professor) boldly suggested: “If you want, I’d even make it 70 pesos”, much to Mr Cab Driver’s embarrassment. It’s all about giving back the burden. Or something.

Tonight, I did not have that luxury (of giving back the burden, since I had gone shopping with my commission money yesterday after work), so I opened the cab door, stuck one leg out, and said “NEVERMIND”.

Cab driver takes it back. I retrieve my leg from the concrete, shut the door and tell him the route to take: Let’s pass through SANTOLAN-EDSA.

We not-so-merrily roll along. When we hit Katipunan extension, he goes “Let’s pass through Araneta”.

“NO. I SAID LET’S TAKE SANTOLAN-EDSA, IT’S QUICKER THAT WAY.”

We reach the intersection where we’re supposed to take a right to get to goddamn Santolan-EDSA. I had to tell the idiot to take take a right, as it was obvious he was planning on going straight ahead for reasons BEYOND me.

For the past THREE MONTHS, I’ve been taking a cab to get to work EVE-RY-DAY. So I know that it only costs 130 to 150 pesos— and nothing more— from Katipunan to PBCom.

Imagine my surprise (and pure pure loathing) when I noticed that the cab meter was already at 190 pesos— and we haven’t even hit Ayala yet! Surprise and pure pure loathing was to be followed by giddiness. I check my wallet, glad that I had a 100-peso and a 50-peso bill.

We pull over to the PBCom bus/jeepney/cab bay. The meter was at 220. I hand him the 150, tell him that I take a cab everyday from Katipunan to Ayala and it never exceeds 150 pesos, and he should have his fucking meter checked. He holds my money, looks at me with his mouth slightly open (surprised that I wasn’t a dumb twit who’d willingly hand over her hard-earned cash to a sleaze like him, perhaps?) while I step out of his cab, shut the door gently and walk away.

But really. You know what’s really hateful? It’s SATURDAY NIGHT AND I HAVE WORK. The big boss asked me out again (for drinks and World Cup) and I had to turn him down NOT because D would get mad :roll:, but because I had work.

And I prettied myself up for work D (skinny jeans, funky top with the neckline sliced off, pink heels— a welcome change, since I’ve been looking shabby this past week) and it turns out he’s on leave for the day. HE DIDN’T TELL ME!

(Well, he claims he did. He actually did tell me he was applying for an incentive leave— I just didn’t know it was for today!)

Grumble grumble. :blah:

EDIT!
I was whining to D about him not coming in for work. More like giving him a hard time. He has a game later this afternoon AND WHAT IS HE DOING RIGHT NOW! DRINKING, that’s what!

I just got back from my break and here’s a message that was waiting for me in my phone:

Everytime you scream at me, I wanna kiss you. Everytime you touch me, I wanna hug you cos you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad!

Cheesiness. He said he was the one who wrote the chorus for Neyo :lolol:

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