It’s been a week since my last update and for good reason: I re-joined the labor force last last Friday. I’m currently employed by dotPH, being a total ditz in their creatives department. I’m actually half-creatives, half-sales & marketing…it sounds awesome, I guess. I’m just happy and absolutely relieved that after wasting two years on being a stupid call center agent, four months of web design school, and a month of bumming around, I finally have a real job.
To make things more fun, I work with my friends, Mordo and Ade! Now that is awesome.
Now here are the boring details: my hours are noon to 9 in the evening. I work in Emerald Avenue in The OC (The Ortigas Center, anyone?). Coffee, beer, cheap food, KFC chicken, and cigarettes are all within walking distance. I only know of two sites that are blocked at work: youtube and meebo. I have access to Yahoo Messenger. I have a non-Avaya phone, I do not hate it and I am not chained to it. I smoke three to four cigarettes during my breaks. I spent the whole week last week working on a template in Photoshop. I realize that making cutouts is therapeutic— not that I need therapy for anything. I’ll probably spend this coming week modifying and coding, though I was told I’ll be doing cold calls this Monday. You’re welcome to stalk me.
Several nights since I started, I’d go for a couple of beers after getting off work. I called it my two-beer habit. It felt good and it felt normal. I am spent by the time I get home and I am conditioning myself to get used to functioning on six hours of sleep and copious amounts of weak office joe and nicotine. Just like college, really.
(There’s nothing I miss more than heading home with you, knowing it’s only a matter of minutes before we find ourselves in our bed, tangled up in each other and naked.)
It was a tiring week and there was no better way to end it than going to Coke’s Buhay Coke ng Bloggers party. Everyone got a free carton/case of Coke Zero (I didn’t claim mine because lugging it home would be a byatch) and the beer was free and free-flowing— just like how a party for bloggers should be. A picture (care of Fritz!) of me looking like a tranny hooker junkie mess who got too drunk to work her corner that night, I love it:
A job, the greatest boyfriend, fantastic friends— life is good. And normal.
Over a year after being canceled, I finally got around to watching the last ten episodes of Veronica Mars’ final season. Quite honestly, the show has left me feeling like a mopey kid— I actually teared up when Albert Hammond’s It Never Rains In Southern California played as Veronica walked away in the rain and the scene faded out (naturally, my hatred for the CW was rekindled. Fangirls never get over these things, really).
But what ultimately crushed my heart is seeing Logan and Veronica dating other people (and Parker and Piz, of all people! Parker reminded me too much of Meg Manning and Piz is just so bland and boring. Emotional bad boys over music elitist slash radio geeks any day, please) and not getting back together. There is no love more epic than my favorite TV supercouple’s— it was the kind of love I once coveted— and it’s just not right that it had to end that way. It would be silly and futile to rant about that, though, so I leave you with two video clips.
Their first kiss (I still tear up and get giddy):
Veronica and Piz kiss at a party Logan threw for Parker (my heart, it stopped):
June 19, 2008 at 3:48 pm | Filed under ditz drivel
I’ve never been a fan Western fashion (it’d be odd, really, seeing that I’m Asian) and I can only count two instances when I’ve ever worn anything remotely cowgirl-y: my dad’s cowboy hat for a highschool Barn Dance (a yearly dance hosted by the school’s Home Ec and Agriculture Clubs) and a pair of scuffed cowboy boots to work (I was drunk).
I was browsing Cavender’s today because I was curious about the whole Urban Cowgirl style…okay, I admit to watching a country-themed 16th birthday party on TV the other day (will not disclose the name of the show because it is embarrassing to publicly announce I watch such mulch) and found the girls’ outfits cute. Going through the women’s catalog, I found one thing that I would want to wear/I can see myself wearing:
The dress, not the boots. I mean, I still want a pair of red boots, but I was thinking of something I could wear to hang out in corners (with a plump man in a mink coat standing next to me).
Non-fat milk, Almond Clusters, two packs of Yakult, Stik-O (chocolate wafer sticks aka evil), C2 apple green tea, Finetti (chocolate hazelnut spread), kimchi, Goya Black & White, chips (wasabi-flavored potato chips and Cheezit from my childhood!!!) Dewberry strawberry and cream tarts, KitKat white (!!!), the mythical Goya Dark Mint chocolates, milk tea, guavas. Not pictured are the chicken drumsticks (15 pieces) and the Korean barbecue chicken (a kilo).
I had to argue with my dad for my Almond Clusters. He was all “This is Nestle! Don’t get Nestle!” and I was like “But these are Almond Clusters! ALMOND CLUSTERS!!!” I hate living with my folks. I’d trade all that for some beer, maybe a bottle of red wine, coffee, a ream of Marlboro reds, and a line of coke (and the best diet pills). Just a couple more weeks, just a couple more weeks.
Friday night at our neighborhood watering hole, I was able to witness a Miriam College Lesbian Chick Fight (of course, I could be wrong about them being from Miriam College, especially since I can’t argue “I know my kind” because a) I am not a lesbian, b) I refuse to associate myself with them and c) I wasn’t your typical MC chick. But yeah, I know a Miriam College lesbian when I see one). A drunken group of girls sitting on the sidewalk (a few meters away from the garbage pile), two of them bitching at each other while the rest sat around and not cared. The butch in the relationship starts cursing at the femme and the femme curses back. Femme stands up, butch pushes her back, and femme— in her tube dress glory— falls ungracefully on the concrete, her legs up in the air. The fight doesn’t end there, but we don’t stick around to watch for more. Too bad I forgot my SD card at home, or else I’d have sneakily snapped some pictures.
I recount the incident to some friends and throw in a couple more stories about how feral lesbian relationships’ fights can get. One of them says that perhaps it’s the lack of sex between girl-girl couples that make them so volatile and violent. I agree.
But really, for the following chicks ladies, I’d willingly give up…well, a few things (trying to keep it PG, trying to avoid the C-word).
KRISTEN BELL (Veronica Mars, Forgetting Sarah Marshall)
MILEY CYRUS (Hannah Montana)
(Nevermind that I’ve never seen an episode of Hannah Montana, I adore Little Miss Skank City. At first, I couldn’t decide whether or not to like her camwhoring ass until I saw her guest and sing on Oprah and that’s when I decided: I like her camwhoring ass.
Also, I felt really really dirty looking at pictures of Miley.)
KIM KARDASHIAN (her sex tape with Ray J, Keeping Up With The Kardashians)
(Again, nevermind that she’s shallow and #2 on the New York Times’ dumbest list and maybe her ass is two seconds away from being obese. Kim K is hot stuff.)
HAYDEN PANETTIERE (Bring It On: All Or Nothing, Heroes)
Hi, my name's Helga Weber and welcome to my personal site. I'm 24. 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. More?
Hi, my name's Helga Weber and welcome to my personal site. I'm 24. 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. 
