Subscribe to blog

Archive for breaking up the girl

I FEEL LIKE A TEENAGER’S LJ.

I don’t feel so good about myself, and I don’t think my liver likes me much right now. You know how it is when you’re not too crazy about yourself, and in an effort to improve things, you cut off one thing from your life that you believe living without would (eventually, and sometimes instantly) make you a better person? Yeah, that’s what I’m going through right now and I’m having a crisis.

Crisis how what why huh. Put simply, I don’t know what to give up. Or something. Sure, I’ve got a pretty nice collection of bad habits and vices (cigarettes. Rum. Nailbiting. Coffee. Emotionally-unavailable men. Diets. Holding in my pee. Throwing money at people whilst saying “Kaya kita bilhin, eto o!”. Drunken drama. Sniffing rugby. Snorting through my nose with a bendable straw Valium I crushed with used-up internet cards The next useless weight loss diet. Jesus Christ), none of which I can bear to part with.

So I don’t know (what else is new). I told myself detoxing this week would do me some good, and I even momentarily contemplated on giving up coffee and maybe cutting down on my smoking. I actually want an apple right now, but I don’t know where to get one; and some white tea to calm my tummy. ANYWAY. Detox, this week, right? And then come the weekend, I’m back to boozing up, so that kinda just cancels out one week of kinda-healthy living. What to do what to do what to do. I’m thinking of not drinking this weekend, but that’s like shooting rubberbands at the stars or some equally emo shit like that. A friend said he’d keep me from drinking if we push through with meeting up on Saturday and that’s a nice thought, really, but I’m an Addict and an Alcoholic (quoting A Million Little Pieces now) and I know alcohol can’t resist me.

Srsly though, I feel ill and if keeping sober for one week will prevent me from having another Monday like yesterday’s, I’d gladly hole myself up in Antipolo and spend the weekend laughing at people at TristanCafe.

But really, I don’t think I have a drinking problem. It’s how I am when I’m drunk that is a problem. There are two three ways I can drive away people: my drama, my drunkenness, and my drunken drama. Those three never fail me.

If anything, Aa is here and that makes me happy. Too bad I can’t call in sick for work.

NO, IT’S NOT *THAT*.

I’m blogging to say that…I won’t be blogging much. Yeah, I’m a stupet. No, actually, I just needed to update because my month-to-date archive’s looking quite dismal. Thing is, I am happily allowing myself to be pwned by work. So I’m not really minding that IT has blocked my website and all proxy servers known to man (I’Z IN UR ‘PUTER!!! SKROOWING WIT UR PROXZIEZ! J0O SNEEKY SNEEKY! ZURF CONTR0WL!), and that the only sites I have access to are Flickr and TMB, and that we are constantly requested to render mandatory overtime (usually asking us to give up our second lunch)— it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

Although I think that if those IT boys only knew how hot I am, it’s possible that we could work something out. Stealz! I asked you ages ago: are they blowjobabble? No? Ok!

Also, this cat has a fever:

Yay Bobby!

And I’m just an obese LOLkitty.

Hiatus schmiatus. I’m renewing this domain for another year (it expires in three days), I just have to find time to go the bank or Globe to make the payment.

I hope to be able to catch my breath, adjust, and be back by next week. Til then, I’ll be busy with work, fending off the subtle advances of a co-worker, clumsily checking out Mr Supervisor, naming random inanimate objects around the house (last week, I named our water pitchers Oscar and Bettita; that same week, Mikey and I agreed to name our first-borne daughter Bettita [I like that name so much. Bettina, too] and our first-borne son Dodgie [nicknamed Bobet by Steel]. I forgot what our pet cat’s name’s going to be, but I know our dog’s Sneakers and our pigeon’s Celso. Or was it Naldy?), and wasting money on bag after bag of colorful bendable straws (it’s funner to snort things with these, don’t you know?). In the meantime, I should get some sleep.

Are you ready, boots? Start walkin’.

MONDAY BLUES. WORK. AGAIN.

I started writing yet another entry about my turning 22, but I realized I’m too drained to churn out something coherent. Which is odd, since I spent the majority of my weekend in bed watching TV, and I woke up to the tune of three mugs of black coffee this morning. I don’t know where this sluggishness is coming from but I must shrug it off before 7 tonight, because it’s preventing me from functioning properly.

Speaking of TV. OMG, Ruffa Gutierrez-Yilmaz Bektas divorce, so good. I love Ruffa like anything, she’s so gay and fabulous and gorgeous and Venice is the cutest thing ever. While watching The Buzz, my flatmate commented on how Ruffa’s fabulousness has gone down a notch now that she no longer has a filthy rich husband (who is so very showbiz, too). And then she starts crying right after she says something along the lines of “One thing I will never understand about their culture is how it’s okay to hurt their women!!!”, and I’m like “Oh my godz! She’s more fab than ever now!” And then we switch to Channel 7 and I am fascinated and amused by Annabelle Rama’s crying.

Anyway. Photos and other chopsueynesses! To cheer me up!

My lunch. And I wonder why I’m so fat. Look at that.

Our mommy dog, Panda, gave birth to six puppies yesterday (Mother’s Day!). We have little cows. So fun.

With four of my favorite girls: Klassy, Sanya, Shauna, and Sam aka the LezzieGangBang. Taken the first Sunday of May in Ziggurat. It’s been ages since the five of us last hung out. I think that’s what happens when people grow up.

Too funny not to post. Sam captionized this photo as “Stumbleupon…?” There’s Shauna and I, giving Klassy our undivided attention as Klassy raves about Stumbleupon. I know I look bored, but I was actually quite enthralled. Shauna just looks puzzled.

Today’s notable YM snippet. Conversations with the ex-boss:

He left me at my hotel at 3:00 AM murmuring: “You’re marvelous.”

-Anais Nin, Diary Volume Two

That pretty much sums up the vibe this past weekend. Now, I go to work.

PWNED!!!

All right, it’s my birthday month. One of these days (as soon as I’m done screwing and gallivanting around town with them highschool boys— I don’t like them young and stupid, cos I’m young and stupid enough. But you know. Little boys. Cute), I’m gonna post my wishlist. I’m keeping it short this year to prepare myself for disappointment. Really, there’s only one thing I want, and that is A Tan.

Which I squatteringly achieved yesterday— a day which I shall aptly call The Day Helga Got Pwned By The Metro And The Bank And The Universe, In General— by walking the length of St. Ignatius Village to the corner of P. Tuazon in Katipunan Extension at 10 in the morning. I lack sleep and am in no mood to go into details and re-count the whole horrid experience, so I’ll document it, ECTTUS-style (aka APAC-style, hyukhyuk): I not ok. All not ok. But ok!. My mom saved the day and my ass (and my flatmates’ asses. Mammy, I love you! I’d marry you if only you weren’t married to Dada! And you wouldn’t have to deal with a 21-year old freeloader of a daughter!), but not without a string of I-told-you-so’s. All while I was standing under the sun, waiting for the village shuttle, and crying. In a race against time. Dun dun dun dun. People were looking at me funny, so I threw in a “Baby! Wag moko iwan!” line for good measure.

So I’m officially broke and will have to live on rice and soy sauce or rice and Star Margarine or leftovers found in fastfood dumpsters until next next Tuesday if I want to support my Marlboro and Starbucks habits. I’ll be mooching off my mom again until further notice, and there goes my plan of moving back into our condo this Saturday (for good). Turning 22 and in a state of destitution— how did life become this harsh? Is it because I curse too much? Drink too much? Or is it because I’m shallow? Or petty? Or just plain obese? Or is it because I incessantly Twitter and post at TMB and read about Orange New Jersey cosmetic dentist while I’m at work? Whyyyyy? Also, if the links are funky, that’s because I’m using a proxy with a bunch of things turned off (like scripts, so my MyBlogLog and Twitter widgets don’t work, puh), for ultra-stealthy surfing.

I hate banks. If I could have it my way, I’d keep all my monies in a can hidden in the back of my closet.

Oh look, it’s almost 4am. I managed to survive the day!

I THINK THIS IS WHAT THEY CALL ‘KARIR’.

Going through a ridiculous bout of emo. This, I realized on my way home today, and that it’s actually been going on for quite some time now (like, since Monday).

It’s not even issueses. I think I’m just being my typical self: movie’s just started, and already I’m fastforwarding to the credits, imagining my own ending. And the journey in between, usually peppered with lots of telenovela-like scenes. And dialogues. Like “Nahihibang ka na! Dun ka sa Palawan! Kung san madaming buwaya!” and “May taning na ang buhay mo! Tara dun sa banyo! Kung san madulas!” and such.

Perhaps Prozac can stabilize my emotions. You know what would be awesome? Tanduay pills. Or online life insurance.

The morning I got up to begin this book I coughed. Something was coming out of my throat: it was strangling me. I broke the thread which held it and yanked it out. I went back to bed and said: I have just spat out my heart.

-House of Incest, Anais Nin

Copyright Helga Weber | © 2006-2011 | Top
There are currently 657 posts and 8,475 comments, contained within 48 categories and 425 tags.

Today's Photo

Getting a haircut and a treatment. Walked all the way to Katipunan from Anonas.