A VOICE UNKIND.

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.

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THE LONGEST WEEKEND aka WE, THE ESCAPISTS

October 2, 2006 at 5:22 am | Filed under breaking up the girl, technicolor lover

From: Weber, Helga Gabrielle
To: Plazo, Bryan Del

Subject: on why I was absent last Friday (and other stories)

Yan,

I was unable to make it to work last Friday due to the following reasons:

• No thanks to the typhoon and lousy engineering (which rendered my windows and ceiling useless in keeping the wind and rain out), my condo unit was flooded with…well, rain water. I had to move out of my room into an extra room (provided to me by the building management), which unfortunately still held the belongings of the previous occupant (a Blue fanboy with a vast collection of gossip magazines, a Sam Milby album, a cheerleading outfit, and lots and lots of smelly laundry). Suffice to say, the room was highly uninhabitable.

• No thanks to the typhoon (again!!!), our building (and the whole of Katipunan Avenue) lost electricity and water. I live on the fifth floor, and I once almost died going down the stairs when I slipped on a puddle of water. There were lights on when this incident happened. There weren’t any lights last Thursday night/Friday early morning. My phone had died some hours before my shift (roughly around nine pm) so I was unable to check if anyone near my area had electricity and running water, so I could bum some bath water and toothbrush water.

In summary, I was unable to report to work last Friday for two reasons: 1) my condo unit was flooded; 2) no water + no electricity = smelly employee.

Thanks,
Helga Gabrielle Weber

I need not mention in the e-mail that more than half of the fifth-floor tenants (which includes me) convened in Alon’s room to drink the typhoon away. So yes, I was substantially drunk when Melenyo fucking WRECKED my condo unit. The typhoon abracadabra-ed a river in our hallway. A lake, my floor. And a poltergeist, my ceiling. It was crazy.

And I shit you not about Blue fanboy (whose room we have christened L’hotel Orphanage). He has a clearbook filled with Blue paraphernalia and a shitload of magazines that kept us entertained for two light-less, fan-less, TV-less, and water-less days.

FRIDAY NIGHT, WE CHECKED INTO A HOTEL BECAUSE WE COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. WE WERE SUICIDIAL (well, I was) AND RABID BECAUSE THE PHONELINES WEREN’T WORKING. WE WERE READY TO CHECK OURSELVES INTO A HOSPITAL IF WE COULDN’T FIND A VACANT HOTEL ROOM, THAT’S HOW DESPERATE WE WERE.

Saturday, we clean our rooms. We drinky-winky while doing so, if only to escape reality a bit. I was visibly buzzed by the time I was bringing my things back into my dry room. I conk out at 11am…

…And wake up at 9am the next day (Sunday). An hour into a game of Free Cell, Allah comes home from work and we open a bottle of rhum.

You know what, I’m gonna shut up now and just say it:

D AND I ARE OVER.

And so I bring you Sad/Angry Girl Anthem #1: 

Just tell me what you’ve got to say to me,
I’ve been waiting for so long to hear the truth,
It comes as no surprise at all you see,
So cut the crap and tell me that we’re through.

Now I know your heart, I know your mind,
You don’t even know you’re being unkind,
So much for all your highbrow Marxist ways,
Just use me up and then you walk away,
Boy you can’t play me that way.

Well I guess what you say is true,
I could never be the right kind of girl for you,
I could never be your woman.

When I saw my best friend yesterday,
She said she never liked you from the start,
Well me, I wish that I could claim the same,
But you always knew you held my heart.
And you’re such a charming handsome man,
Now I think I finally understand,
Is it in your genes?, I don’t know,
But I’ll soon find out, that’s for sure,
Why did you play me this way?

Well I guess what you say is true,
I could never be the right kind of girl for you,
I could never be your woman.

Well I guess what they say is true,
I could never spend my life with a man like you,
I could never be your woman.

-YOUR WOMAN, WHITE TOWN

I’m tired. Why must The Last Goodbye be so irresistible for moments like these, when we know it’ll only make us cry.

PS: I came in for work, turns out I DON’T have work today.

PPS: My tita bought me a laptop, I’m getting it when her friend comes here to the Philippines.

PPPS: I’m gonna be okay, okay, okay. :)

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D IS FOR DRAMA

September 27, 2006 at 12:32 pm | Filed under bitchin' a ride, breaking up the girl, technicolor lover

Things between D and I are going all right…in terms of throwing accusations at each other, that is. I know it gets old, my perpetually ranting and bitching about him, but we also all know that I don’t know any better. And here’s another nugget of realization: as much as I have every reason to leave this relationship, I can’t. No matter how many times I say that I’m giving up (especially when under the influence of alcohol), I won’t. Because I’m emo like that. Fuck it, I’m back to being emo. Masochistic optimism.

AND FUCK IT, HE’S HERE ON THE FLOOR RIGHT NOW AND HE’S NOT SAYING HI. I CAN SMELL HIM, I CAN FUCKING SMELL HIM.

EDIT//

Okay, I’ve calmed down now. He dropped by my station and pecked me on the cheek to say “hi”. He also called me “Weber” :hmph: And now my hyperacidity is acting up (it does that when I’m mad/pissed off, excited, or nervous). He’s still here. I think. We’re logging out, time to go home, I don’t know what to do.

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I, THE ESCAPIST

September 20, 2006 at 12:09 pm | Filed under a waste of human capital, breaking up the girl

I’m resigning. Soon.

Six months today. Hello, I’m Helga and I’m a regular employee, fully-entitled to all company benefits. And I can now make use of the six incentive leaves I’ve earned these past six months.

But I’m resigning. Even though I am highly promotable (I haven’t been late in weeks), as implied by my direct supervisor. Even though I’m kinda good at what I do. Even though I have made some good friends in this program.

I admit that a big contributor to this decision is the fact that I went crying-psycho in front of co-workers and bosses last Sunday. I have exerted a great deal of effort at keeping a low profile here at work: sure, everyone knows me, but only impersonally. You know: Helga— crazy and mean but a good girl, nonetheless? NOT drunken hysterical Helga who airs out her issues to everyfuckingone?

And, well, Branders is hiring and they pay a whole lot better than my current employer.

I have to get out.

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I AM A FIRST CLASS BIATCH.

September 19, 2006 at 7:55 am | Filed under breaking up the girl, technicolor lover

What kind of an utter idiot french kisses her lover’s room mate (not once, not twice, not thrice, but FOUR times!) at THEIR housewarming party for everyone to see?

Why, the Helga kind, of course.

And we almost had a perfect weekend. As usual, things were going great— had gone great— and I had to fuck something up. This is what our Saturday night consisted of:

• pesto pasta and Korean chicken barbecue that I made.
• pizza he ordered.
• me helping him hang his laundry.
• me explaining season one of Veronica Mars to him.
• the two of us watching the first 3 episodes of Veronica Mars (season two).
• the two of us watching half of Battle Royale before conking out
• great sex.

This is what our Sunday morning consisted of:

• waking up next to D (I am happiest when this is the case).
• ordering breakfast from McDonald’s.
• watching Just Like Heaven.
• me giving him a massage.
• the two of us watching a boxing match on local tv.
• the two of us watching SOP Gigsters.
• great sex.

This is what our Sunday late afternoon consisted of:

• me being a bitch to him during the drive down south to his Alabang house for their housewarming party.

This is what our Sunday evening consisted of:

• me flirting and then kissing his room mate H. Four times, according to our co-workers.
• D finding out.
• D sending me a message: “fuck you, tapos na tayo”. In english: fuck you, it’s over between us.
• me reading the message. Me seeing him enter the house. Me leaving the table. Me pushing him towards the dirty kitchen at the back of the house.
• me telling people who walked in on us to (can you) please leave (!!!)
• me crying.
• me throwing my phone against a wall. Twice.
• D picking up the pieces and putting my phone back together.
• D telling me to stop crying and stop making a scene.
• me making a fool out of myself and crying to everyone and in front of everyone. CO-WORKERS. CO-WORKERS.
• me crying to my direct superviosr. He asked “Anak, what’s wrong?” and I couldn’t exactly say that D had just dumped me. So I answered with a “my boyfriend broke up with meeeee.”
• me hurling my guts out in their toilet. Amazingly, I had my toothbrush and toothpaste with me.
• my direct supervisor and one of the shift managers conspiring against MY shift manager so I wouldn’t have to go to work at 4am. “Helga, just don’t tell JJ you have work, all right?”
• me crying some more to people and to D.
• me falling asleep on someone’s bed.
• me waking up outside my building at 2am.
• D taking me up to my unit.

And the night ends with me sitting on my bed, drinking water; while D stood by my door. No apologies, no hugs, no good-bye kiss. He just told me he needed to leave and get his car. And I just nodded.

I am now trying to make begging him take me back. He said he honestly doesn’t know, that he’ll have to think about it. All I can do is wait.

:(:(:(:(:(

And yesterday’s notable conversations:

Helga: So. I kissed D’s room mate.
Allah: THAT IS SO VERONICA MARS! I’m sorry, I just had to say that. Who’s Duncan, who’s Logan!

Anna: Weber, why are you sad?
Helga: I kissed D’s room mate.
Anna: Wow, biatch na biatch ang dating!

I messed up. I’m sorry.

Just remember me when. :(

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