Archive for October, 2006
October 14, 2006 at 9:01 pm | Filed under camwhorage, joyful girl
Look, I have photos :shocked:
First five photos taken during the Milenyo Fifth-Floor Party.
Look at how cute Anna is :D
Do NOT mind the guy with the peace signs.
Anna: OMG, what did we ever do to deserve this???
How very unfabulous :hmph:
I don’t know why this photo’s size is different from the rest. But ANYWHORES, I wasn’t drunk yet. I was just resting my legs.
:blank::blank::blank:
And OMG, it’s been ages since: Meatshop photos!
Biceps, biceps, hide your fat biceps.
Duck lips and Mother Nature.
Anna has the same smile in ALL the photos.
I was seriously drunk by the time this shot was taken.
I have the most bullshit internet connection right now.
So I really should get some sleep, since I have to be up before six am tomorrow. I need to pack, get my laundry when the washers open at six am, and then be at the bus station to meet with the best friend and the co-worker. Galera weekend, baby. I don’t care if I’m obese. I’ve been eating the whole day (who the hell can resist flaming chicken wings???), and with the way the weather’s going, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna end up in parkas while glugging down rum and dropping Vis. Sounds like a weekend!
October 12, 2006 at 10:27 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, bitchin' a ride, ditz drivel
I would give anything for barbecued chicken and liempo right now. ANYTHING. Throw in a crackwhore’s body to replace my obese one, and I’d give EVERYTHING.
All I’ve been eating since yesterday are KFC salads and the occasional hot/funshot— can’t really go all out on a box. Carbs :hmph:. And MSG-ridden instant noodles (carbs, haha!).
I’m going all wanarexic again because the best friend and I are running away to Puerto Galera this Sunday until Tuesday (which I’ve filed a leave from work for). I’m quite in a situation, actually, but whatever. I don’t want to think about Branders right now. Because there’s a chance they might hire me and ask me to start this coming Monday. The interview yesterday went fairly well, and I have another one tomorrow. I haven’t even resigned yet!
So yeah. I look forward to being drunk and Valium-ed while working on my tan. I already accept the fact that I won’t look so hot in my bikinis— it’s my fault I’m 7 pounds over my ideal weight. I’m just horrified that I’m gonna look female body-builderesque. :cry:
I BETTER NOT GET MY PERIOD THIS WEEKEND.
October 10, 2006 at 9:08 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, ditz drivel
I’m slowly returning to my 18/19-year old self, and what worries me is that this whole getting drunk as fuck every night doesn’t make me feel guilty or bother me at all. It’s like I’m actually okay with it.
I passed out last Friday and skipped work. An unauthorized absence, so the shift manager told my team leader to slap a memo on my ass. That ruins my chances of getting promoted in three months. And you know what? I’mglad for this CITE form: it made the decision for me. I’m resigning, really. I’ve been hesitant if I actually wanted to leave this company, what with the opportunities, but come on: my lifestyle requires a fatter paycheck. And right now, I don’t care about climbing the call center career ladder; I just need a bigger disposable income.
It’s cowardice: fucking up on purpose so I won’t have to make a decision.
Halloween’s coming!, let’s dress up as farmers! And OMG, so we’re moving to the new house in less than three weeks and we’re throwing a wedding-themed hosuewarming party. But.. but.. come on, it’s Halloween. We should have a costume barbecue party, don’t you think (yeah, we <3 barbecues)!!!
October 6, 2006 at 9:13 am | Filed under breaking up the girl, the single girl phenomenon
Helga: I hate not having a D anymore. :(
D: Hay, can we not talk about that now?
Let’s make it sound less pathetic than it already is: I was naughty, so he dumped me. Now ship me off to Bad Girl Rehab and move on, right?
Well not until I’ve been emotionally battered to the bone. It’s not that I enjoy making a trashy romance novel out of my life (or maybe I do), it’s just that I refuse to acknowledge that what once meant something to us is now a lost cause.
WHAT A BITCH. I’m not about to turn this blog into an Oublier: The Bitter Girl Diaries version 2. Again: WHAT A BITCH.
Dumdeedumdeedum. :huh:
And it’s final: I’m moving out of my condo unit and into a house with a South African white boy, a French cutie, and two crazy batgirls. I do get my own bedroom, but my main worry is that I won’t be able to traipse around the place naked anymore since I’ll have to share two bathrooms with four other people. That, and how the hell do I transport my broken bed frame down five flights of stairs and across the street from my building to the new house?
Sigh. Adieu, unit 108, thou wilt always have a special place in my heart. Thy memories are lovely, but unkind: moving in on my 21st birthday, baptizing the place with hot hot D lovin’, and so on and so forth.
:(
October 3, 2006 at 8:03 am | Filed under breaking up the girl, technicolor lover, the single girl phenomenon
I guess one way to start feeling better is realizing that he wasn’t that good a catch after all.
But frankly, it’s more like “convincing”.
I miss D [:cry:] and it’s a struggle deflecting the urge to e-mail him. Resist resist resist: that’s my new mantra; must stick to it. We were texting each other yesterday afternoon— and like all conversations we’ve had these past two weeks, that didn’t turn out well, too.
Did you say “no, this can’t happen to me”? Did you rush to the phone and call? Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind, saying maybe you didn’t know him at all?
I told him: I’m just realizing how stupid I was, but whatever. It’s sad because we used to be so happy before.
His reply: Before what?
Why can’t we overcome this wall? Well, maybe it’s just because I didn’t know you at all.
SO ANYWAY. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had The Last Goodbye and Your Woman on repeat (though sometimes, I squeeze in Meryn Cadell’s The Sweater and Bree Sharp’s David Duchovny) for two nights now that’s prompted Alon to play matchmaker.
We were sitting out on the hallway last night, just chatting and smoking, when he threw me a “funny question” (his words): out of the five Frenchies, who did I like? Basically, he’s trying to set me up with one of his French friends, to take my mind off of D. :blush:
I went ahead and said that I find Tibo cute. Except he’s heading back to France on the 18th and might be back April next year. Not a big deal, I just think he’s a cutie? Alon was building up his other friend, Clem, who’s staying longer but who I find merely ‘okay’. Alon had this goofy smile on and his phone was out: “I’m SERIOUSLY going to text Tibo!” Eep. I said I’d think about it.
I swore I’d go on a rhum-coke and antacid diet this week, but chocolate chip cookies and Sausage McMuffin meals are just too goddamn enticing.
Hi, my name's Helga Weber and welcome to my personal site. I'm 23. My first socio-political scandal will happen at the age of 35 and will include men, sushi, an African country, and lots of money. My lover is the greatest. 
