I have a lot of clothes (more than I can wear, really) but I always know when something is missing from my closet. I know it shouldn’t bother me so much because save for one top, most of them were thrifted… but I can’t help it! I’ve tried to let it go and be okay with it but it ticks me off all over again when I’m getting ready/dressed to go out.

I was looking for one of my favorite tops this morning (to wear to work) and I realized that I haven’t seen it since the last time I wore it some two months ago. Stolen, again =(

(Oh, well, at least I didn’t lose a PS3.)

Anyway, to keep my mind off that (sorta):

(...)
Read the rest of Missing Clothes, A Cat, A Necklace, and Hair (139 words)

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Talk about unlucky! I opened the box of Crest Whitestrips my boyfriend sent me yesterday morning and saw three pouches, a battery, and a tissue instead of the 10 pouches it’s supposed to have! Boyfriend had gotten the last box at Target and I guess he didn’t notice that it was no longer sealed. Ugh, what a waste of $24! If it weren’t so annoying, I’d say this was comical.

He got me a new box (checked and opened this time) but now I have to wait because it would be kinda stupid to ship just a box of Whitestrips (and a dereon summer time dress that he still doesn’t know I want heehee). I know I can get them from local Multiply sellers but they double the price (I saw Classic on sale for PHP1600 when a box of 20 pouches is just $19) so I’d rather wait for the next package.

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When taking public transportation, I really try my best not to be affected by the people around me. Rushing to work is stressful as it is, I don’t need getting myself all worked up over strangers. Sometimes, it’s hard not to get annoyed especially at (yes, I have a list. I like lists):

1) Men who ride in the train’s first car. I know this is a sexist rule (only females, senior citizens*, handicapped folks, and men with children can ride in the first car) but I like it because I don’t have to worry about getting groped etc.

Anyway, everyone knows about this rule. If it’s your first time riding the MRT and you’re a dude and have no knowledge of this rule, you will see signs reading “<-- DOON PO ANG LALAKI" on the chain rails on the platform (next to the humidifier filters. Oh wait, not in the Philippines). If you happen to not see the sign/s, you’ll find yourself sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of women while all the other dudes are NOT WHERE YOU ARE.

So how is it that some men are still completely oblivious to all these and feign ignorance when security guards shoo them away? This morning, two guys shoved past a bunch women into the train and the guard caught them too late. I had my iPod on, blasting Yeah Yeah Yeahs so I couldn’t make out the conversation but judging by the expression on the two guys’s faces, they weren’t too keen on exiting. Worse, they were blocking the way. When the guard finally got them to GTFO, the train doors were closing and the rest of us had to wait for the next train.

I wanted to punch them.

*I have an issue with male senior citizens because one time, this lolo spent the entire train ride with his crotch stuck to me while he stared at my chest. It was very uncomfortable (obvs) and the train was packed. Sure, they’re old, but they’re still men. I’ve also seen old men run through closing train doors and shoulder women out of the way.

2) People who cut lines. A lady in her 40s/50s cut the line this morning and all I could think was “Ang tanda tanda mo na, hindi ka pa din marunong pumila.” It was pretty comical, though. I was in line and I saw her as she shuffled over from the ticket windows, looked at the line/us, shuffled towards the back, shuffled back to the front, and inserted herself there.

2.1) People who have the nerve to get mad when you don’t let them cut lines. Wipe that scowl off your face.

3) People/ladies who shove you out of the way just so they can sit on the train. Whenever a train pulls up the platform and there are seats available, I DREAD IT because I know all these chicks are going to push and shove and fight and run for a seat. It’s ridiculous.

4) People who stand by the train doors and don’t move out of the way at stops, especially during rush hour and the train is packed. How do they expect people to exit properly? Move to the side or step out for a bit (you’ll still have your space in the train, really)— just get out the way.

That’s about it (for now, I guess). Just thinking about these people irritates me, ugh.

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1) MRT (Manila Rail Transit System) terminals/stations (especially at rush hour). Waiting for the train at the Araneta/Cubao station is always the most unpleasant part of my day. There is nothing I loathe more (okay, I’m exaggerating, I can think of twenty more things I hate more) than going up the escalator and seeing the throngs of people waiting for the next train. It doesn’t help that it gets really hot and humid at the stations and most women in the crowd (I take the ladies’ car) are inconsiderate stupidheads terribly in need of Acneticin who will unapologetically push you out of the way and step on your toes.

Unfortunately, taking the train is a necessity for me as cabs can get costly and I dislike city buses.

2) Greenhills Shopping Center. Once upon a time, I looooved Greenhills; in college, I would go there at least twice a month to blow my money on generic, inexpensive clothes. I would brave the crowd and I prided myself in being able to skillfully weave in and out of and through the swarm of people. And then I realized how ridiculous it was. Unless it is absolutely necessary, I stay away. I don’t care if it’s the more accessible bargain shopping mecca; if given the choice to spend a day at Greenhills or have afternoon tea a the chainsaw-wielding mentally-unstable d00d dressed in a snake costume/the devil, I’d go with the latter.

3). The walkway between MRT Ortigas Station and Guadix Drive. It’s a sidewalk right beside EDSA aka Metro Manila’s main highway. It’s not that long of a distance, thankfully, because I don’t enjoy walking beside city buses and their incessant honking and exhaust.

Photo credit: MRT Cubao station, Greenhills.

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Here’s another one. WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN.

It gets embarrassing. I just wanna throw a couple of electric grills their way and knock them out cold.

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TINEA FLAVA aka tinea versicolor aka sun fungus aka an-an. I have it. It’s very embarrassing and until it’s been cured (I have a smattering of spots on my left shoulder, my nape, my back, and a few on my chest area), I have to cover up IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER. Ridiculous, considering this is caused by the summer heat.

It’s a common, harmless skin infection caused by a yeast called Malassezia furfur, but is neither contagious nor due to poor hygiene. Nearly everyone has naturally occurring malassezia on their skin, but when it changes from the dormant yeast form to the more active mycelial form, then spots can appear. Source.

This mild infection is caused by a slow-growing yeast called Malassezia furfur or Pityrosporum orbiculare. This yeast normally grows on the skin without causing any problem. However, in warm and humid environment, it grows in abundance to cause an infection. Source.

The boyfriend was all “how do we fix yooooou!!!” when I told him about my skin, erm, condition. I’ve been dealing with an-an ever since I was old enough to care so it’s not the end of the world for me. My recent beach trip actually worsened my, erm, condition and guess what! I’m going back to the beach this weekend! Tanning worsens tinea flava =/

FAT FAT FAT. I need weight loss supplements, plz. I can’t seem to keep the weight off! I would like to work out but the heat (and yes, even nights here get unbearably warm) makes me lazy and wears me out and makes me want to sleep and makes me want to give a handful of excuses why I can’t work out.

Folks, the time is 6pm and it’s 33 degrees (Celsius) outside.

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What I really can’t stand is after I ignore these people, they still persist. A follow up message, a poke. I don’t know you at all, you don’t know me, being part of each other’s list of Facebook friends won’t magically turn us into friends friends, I don’t want to be your friend (and after reading this, you probably won’t want to be my friend, too), you look like you have neck acne, and your hair is ugly. Go away.

PS: STOP POKING ME.

PPS: Online friends who are adding me, please don’t be offended if I haven’t accepted your friend requests. I have 262 at the moment and I’m too lazy to go through them, to be honest.

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I noticed my purple loafers felt a little weird while I was on my way to work today. I paused to check it out and noticed that the stupid kitten heel (I hate kitten heels, I tell you) on the left pair was slowly detaching itself from the rest of the sole. I wasn’t anywhere near the office yet (I was actually walking through Gateway Mall to get from one train station to another, heh) so I dropped by a hardware store to buy some contact cement. I silently told my shoes to keep its shit together until I get to the office so I could do the necessary quick fix.

Fortunately, it did. Of course, as soon as I sat down to check out the heel, it completely broke off. As if that wasn’t enough, the right pair’s heel started getting all wiggly like a loose tooth, too.

(...)
Read the rest of I Have A Stupid Case of FML This Week (369 words)

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I don’t like it when ugly people flirt.
I am somewhat lookist and I will not apologize for it.

Girls with mustaches.
So many Filipinas have such grizzly mouths and it bothers me that it doesn’t bother them! I’ve always been a bit of a hairy girl and prior to getting myself a facial epilator (one of the best things I’ve ever bought), I would painfully pluck at the little bits of fuzz. There are several parts of a woman’s body that I believe needs to be free of hair: armpits, toes, knuckles, and upper lip (I shave my legs on weekends when I wear skirts/shorts and I will not tell you what I do with my ~*~downthere~*~).

Girls whose lipstick/lip color doesn’t match the rest of their face/their skin tone.
There was this one girl on the train who looked at me in disdain and moved away when I coughed lightly into my handkerchief (my mouth was dry and I accidentally sucked in some air). I looked back at her, saw how her gaudy metallic ocher (good lord) lipstick clashed with her skin color, and sort of just curled my lip.

Yeah, I was just kind of offended, heh.

Co-workers who stare.
When strangers stare, it’s kind of annoying (flattering, if the person is cute) but it’s easy to shrug off since they’re strangers, after all, and not someone you run into everyday. When it’s a co-worker, it’s just really rude and uncomfortable.

People who lean their backs on the train’s metal poles.
Does that pole look like your own personal backrest??? Other people need something to hold on to.

When people call me “Helgs”.
Said out loud: my name has a measly two syllables, don’t be lazy.
When typed: my name has five letters, Helgs has five letters; the A key is right beside the S key. It’s really easy.

Improper pluralization (i.e. informations, homeworks, stuffs).

People calling me “sis”.
I never really got the whole “sis” thing. Unless we really are sisters, don’t.

Motorists who don’t slow down/stop or worse, speed up when approaching pedestrian lanes.
These people need to GTFO the roads.

People who say “I love you” to everyone and all the time.
Insincere/fake compliments/flattery.
“I barely know you but I think you’re amazing and really pretty and terrific and I want to be ~*~your friend~*~ and haha, look at you in this photo, you look so funny and kind of fat! Let me give you a site about fat burner advice because you clearly need it! Hahaha, you know I’m just kidding! I love you!”

Clingy girls who play games with their boyfriends for attention.
I’d like to think that the person you supposedly love deserves a more mature approach than that.

When people introduce themselves with useless crap.
This used to weird me out while I was still in college and when I first started working my two call center jobs. We know how it goes: it’s the first day of classes/training and no one knows anyone. One by one, you introduce yourself and I swear, people come up with the dumbest things to say.

“I’m Herguh and I’m 24 and I like the color pink a lot. Spongebob Squarepants is my favorite cartoon character because I also like the color yellow and I like Channel 2 better than Channel 7. My favorite radio station is that station that most cabbies listen to. Again, my favorite color is pink. This defines me as a person.”

Another example that Ade gave:

“I’m 20% Filipino, 30% Cuban, 15% New Yorker, 5% Nigerian, and 30% Russian.”

Ridiculous.

(Admittedly, I used to do that whole I’m this, this, and this crap, chiefly to explain my very un-Filipino surname. I don’t really care nowadays. “Why’s your last name like that?” “Oh, it’s German.” “You don’t look German.” “Yeah, I don’t.”)

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Not really.

Last night, I left work at the usual time: 9:05ish pm. The walk from my building along Emerald Avenue to the front of Galleria (the side facing EDSA) was uneventful and normal. I smoked one cigarette, zipped past people, and arrived at the bus stop only slightly sweaty with Kat DeLuna yelling into my ears. And then I noticed something unusual: a crowd of people waiting for buses that weren’t there. It wasn’t raining. Previous nights, bus conductors had to practically beg for me to choose and get on their bus. Tonight, there were no men in yellowed white polos screaming CUBAO IBABAW! LETRE! FAIRVIEW! MALANDAY! while waving signs at me.

Weird.

I took off my hoodie and stuffed it in my bag, took out another cigarette, and weighed my options: wait for a bus or walk along EDSA to the Ortigas MRT station? I peeked down the bus stop lane and saw ONE BUS and about ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE frantically trying to board it. I exaggerate the number of people, yes, but that scene alone made me decide to take the metro. Or the train, as non-pretentious Filipinos (aka not me lol) call it.

Making it past the bus stop lane alone was a challenge. Because Filipinos have this incomprehensible tendency to block the way and hassle everyone around them, I had to elbow my way through people (also: I had put out my cigarette before doing so because I am a considerate person who isn’t the kind to blow smoke directly into people’s faces. I help old folks cross the street and open doors for women, too). Once I got past that, I then had to deal with throngs of people who had the same destination as I. Lemme change that: throngs of people who had the same destination as I, walking ever so sloooooooooooowly, ambling along the very polluted EDSA like they were having a Sunday stroll at the park…which is actually an odd thing to say, as I know no Filipinos who take Sunday strolls at the park. I mean, in my 23 years here, I have yet to do that. Maybe a Saturday or a Sunday picnic at Sunken Garden (which, by the way, needs a Wikipedia entry), yes. But a Sunken Garden Sunday stroll? LOL.

So there I was, willing my feet to match their pace while I waited for the perfect opportunity to overtake the slowpokes who seemed to enjoy breathing in the vehicular exhaust. I thought I had gotten my chance when there were no people coming from the opposite direction so I switched to the left lane, quickened my step and BAM! The dude in front of me who wasn’t exactly Speedy Gonzales switched to the left lane, too. Did he speed up? Of course, not.

I wanted to slap the back of his head.

Whenever I find myself having to deal with the (public transportation-taking) Filipino masses, I always have this scene playing in my mind: basically, I am Helga and I am in a rush to get somewhere and all these people are in my way and I need to pee real bad and I am angry and so I bust out a Barbie-pink armalite and open fire and everyone turns into fuzzy pink puffballs of lint.

Yo. How’s the job search going? HUHLOLZ.

*Or as Dante suggested: settling-in-at-your-preferred-drinking-spot hour.

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