Archive for July, 2007
July 28, 2007 at 6:10 am | Filed under urban primadonna
Being a 22-year old career girl wannabe who works and lives in two differents cities, I am constantly on the go. Also, I need at least eight hours of sleep to function properly. Furthermore, let’s all pretend that I don’t waste my time playing Free Cell or pointing my camera at random objects like toilet bowls and pan handles. Lastly, please ignore the fact that a huge chunk of my day (roughly about 60%) is spent blogging or thinking of what to blog about next.
A picture of Helga on the go:
A picture of Helga as a career girl wannabe/on the job/being a corporate travel specialist:
Seeing that my hands are regularly full with so many important things, I never have the time to sit down and enjoy a good meal (usually consisting of a Hydroxycut caplet, two diet pills, and a mug of warm coffee). This has terrible repercussions on my quest to be the poster girl for (failed) eating disorders. I mean, how am I going to throw up my food if I don’t eat, right? And because I’m not one to let my goals be trumped by such trivial matters (time constraints, work, sleep, etc etc), it’s only natural that I eat while I’m on the go— which is something that I’ve always thought of as not unusual. I can’t be the only over-sleeping, dilly-dallying, meandering career girl wannabe out there?!
Until I noticed the not-so-surreptitious stares that people were giving me, one eye-opening early Wednesday morning. I was racing home, hoping to walk through our front door by 630 (so I could finish working out by 8 and sleep at 9?), when I realized that I hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before. I made a detour to the nearest McDonald’s, ordered a you-will-be-flushed-down-the-toilet-in-about-an-hour meal, and continued my merry way home.
Hello, curious looks from random city people. What’s so weird about a 22-year old girl showing off exceptional coordination? I know that it’s not everyday you see a person walking through the hustle and bustle that is Quezon City on a weekday morning and successfully juggling a handbag, an mp3 player, a bottle of apple C2, and a styro-plate while shoving a bite of McDonald’s pancakes into her mouth…BUT MUST YOU BE RUDE AND STARE??? Get your own breakfasts, damn it.
July 26, 2007 at 3:32 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, ditz drivel, the internets
I’ve gotten a number of hits from people googling, yahoo-ing, and msn-ing the word ‘ditz’. Usually, the keywords are something along the lines of what’s is ditz or what a ditz is or what is a ditz?, leading me to believe (judging by the wording, the bad grammar, and the fact that they have to search-engine ‘ditz’ when they could simply go to, like, dictionary.com) that most Americans (and probably a handful of kids from Burundi) don’t have the slightest clue what the term ‘ditz’ means.
Okay, that’s enough.
Unfortuately, dictionary.com offers two boring entries on ‘ditz’. Urban Dictionary (which is a website I try to avoid as much as possible, as its contributors are a bunch of idiots) isn’t being very helpful, either, having twelve definitions written in Moronese. And since there isn’t a Moronese-English option over at Babelfish: g’luck.
It’s getting more and more awkward here at work, ever since I was co-erced into being account muse for the upcoming PSOlympics. Also: doesn’t the whole muse-and-escort thing end in, like, grade school? I generally tend to keep to myself whenever I’m in the office, only talking to people from my department (corporate travel). Now, I have people talking about me RIGHTTOMYFACE at the smoking area and people from ATHOUSANDAISLES away pointing me out to other people. Christ. I’m feeling uglier and uglier by the minute and I’m crossing my fingers that…I don’t know, *they* change their minds? I seriously am not looking forward to prancing around a basketball court in a tacky skimpy outfit to be boo-ed, tittered, and hooted at by people. Or worse, be greeted by silence.
(Not me, please. I have the personality of a block of wood. And I’m fat.)
There are just some things I’d rather not deal with. Things like that kind of bullshit, my insecurities, and a chewed out inner right cheek caused by sucking on too much sugared jelly candies.
July 21, 2007 at 1:47 am | Filed under lists, the internets
I’m currently insanely addicted to TeamSugar. I love how I can get all my entertainment, beauty, fashion, food and health, and techy news in one site. For someone who’s too lazy to scour the intarnets and wade through all the filth, this is just pure awesomeness. NEVER AGAIN WILL I BE OUT OF THE LOOP! Mooharharharhar!
Anyway, here are five interesting things I came across during my lunch hour.
FROM POPSUGAR:
A photo of Britney Spears from the set of her new video (Get Back), with her looking like a ghetto tranny. W-W-WEZT-SAHD!!! Not that I know the Westside hand sign. But yeah. RIP: Helga’s Britney Fandom. A moment of silence, please.
FROM GEEKSUGAR:
A laptop table I would kill Africans for: The Offi Mag Table. It’s versatile, too, doubling as a side table and can apparently be converted to a seat with storage (I’d like to know HOW?).
I’m probably the only laptop owner out there (also, I have two laptops, big whoop) who doesn’t have a laptop bag. Okay, so I do, but it’s black and ugly and I hate putting my Veronica Mars in it because I don’t feel that it’s safe enough. So here’s the super funky Vlieger & Vandam Guardian Angel bag that offers all laptop owners a sense of false security, for $419 (which costs more than my monthly rent). I’d like one with an embossed AK-47 or crowbar, please.
FROM BELLASUGAR:
I recently started wearing eyeshadow (a drab green color from The Face Shop, to be exact) and I’ve gotten a lot of comments from co-workers since. Comments such as “Oh hey, Helga’s wearing make-up!” (umm, I wear make-up everyday?) and “What’s up with your eyes? You look like…the queen of the ocean.” (from Mr Supervisor tee-hee) and “Kamusta naman ang make-up natin diyan, bakla” etc etc. So this new series of loose powder eyeshadow called Overshadow from The Balm is just something I’d like to add to my make-up kit. Available in four colors (If You’re Rich, I’m Single; No Money, No Honey; You Buy, I’ll Fly; and Work Is Overrated), unavailable in the Philppines.
FROM FITSUGAR:
Now this is just about the coolest shit I’ve seen this week: The Treadwall, an indoor climbing wall and treadmill in one. I doubt I could fit this thing in my home, though, but Jesus! I never have time to go wallclimbing anymore, so having a Treadwall would be awesome like dimsum.
A conversation I had with Mr Supervisor about 15 seconds ago:
Mr Supervisor: *says something to me in German*
Helga: Look at this! A treadwall!
Mr Supervisor: *does a climbing motion with his hands* Yeah, I saw that a while ago. *pause* I told my mommy about it.
If you’re on TeamSugar, add me up: I’m helgatheweber over there (as usual).
Edit// So. I’m our account’s official muse for the upcoming sportsfest. FTW.
July 19, 2007 at 3:30 am | Filed under ditz drivel, screen queen
I admit: I’m a big Laguna Beach fan, so I squealed in delight when I chanced upon DVDs of seasons 1 and 2 last Monday. Being an LB fan totally adds to my ditz factor. And being an LB fan at the glorious age of 22 says volumes about just how sad my life is. I’m going to take up macrame or knitting any day now. And maybe cricket. But no, cricket’s quite cool. Maybe a fake English accent and black cigarette holders ala Audrey Hepburn.
Depsite the fact that I can seriously feel my IQ dropping about 29 points (to the level of, say, a housewife from Small Town, Italy. But smarter) whenever I watch the show, the truth is: I secretly want to be part of the LB power cliques. LC’s, to be specific. I could be her half-Asian accessory, taking the place of token black dude (or dudette) which the show obviously lacks. I mean, don’t tell me there are no black people in that part of the OC. And I checked: out of 23, 727 people, .36% of them are African-American. .08% are Asian. And did you guys know that more than 50% of the people in the world have never made or received a telephone call? Lucky ducks. And did you know that while Vacancy is lame, Factory Girl is a face-rocking movie?
What a segue! Now I’m no genius when it comes to movie reviews (I’m actually quite the idiot) and I no longer gush over the usage of the rule of thirds or cinematography or angles and perspective shots (the way I did, 17 years ago— proof that I lie about my age and that I’m actually an overly-botoxed Caucasian man with a brown wig in his mid-30s) so I’m not even going to attempt to do one.
That’s all. If you want the DVD, that’s awesome.
July 14, 2007 at 4:22 am | Filed under technicolor lover
Dear Mr Supervisor,
Let me start this by saying that I think you are major hotness. Now a lot of people would disagree with me on this. Truth be told, when I first confessed to a “good” friend that I had a crush on you, he shook his head in disbelief, poked my arm several times, and called my taste in men ‘disgusting’. Don’t worry and please, put that rusty serrated knife away. I know what he said stings, but you must understand that said “good” friend is gay and his last boyfriend cheated on him. Also, I sucked beaurocracy cock and had said “good” friend fired. For you.
But yes, you are hot. Unconventionally deliciously hot. But don’t get me wrong. What I feel for you is not lust; rather, it is something pure and true. You know, like how I feel for Taylor Hanson and Mark Herras? Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean you don’t cause a stirring in my loins whenever you pass my workstation and ever-so-lightly touch my shoulder. I do wish, though, that you’d stop holding my hand and smelling my hair and kissing my cheek “hello”, as I am a very carnal person and the last thing I wanna do is lose my control. So yeah, stop that.
No, please don’t. Your doing so gives me the giddies. And makes my heart soar. And inspires me to do something for the benefit of mankind. Like boycott the diamond industry. Or stop hissing at nuns. Or at least stop telling fat people to stop eating. I digress.
I also think you’re awesome, though a bit offbeat. I mean, what kind of person comes to the office when it’s his day off from work? Plus, you’re almost forty and you still do the rock-and-roll hand sign (with your tongue sticking out). And you have Bible study. LOL. But it’s your little quirks that make me swooooon. And I find it cute that you tried to write porn as a thirteen-year old, and it sucks that the only reason you stopped writing is cos your cousin and folks found your stories. But hope is not lost! It’s not too late to start writing again! WE! can make porn stories. TOGETHER!
Also, I wrote you a song:
You’re so fine
I want you mine
You’re so delicious
I think about ya all the time
You’re so addictive
Don’t you know what I could do to make you feel alright?
Don’t pretend I think you know I’m damn precious
And hell yeah I’m the motherfucking princess
I can tell you like me too and you know I’m right
Now I’m off to sue Avril Lavigne’s ass for plagiarizing my lyrics.
In love and Jesus Christ,
Amen
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. 
