TAFFY-STUCK AND TONGUE-TIED.
Over the weekend, I finally found the time to finish reading Dark Love.
And I’m so squatter, I have a steno pad.
No more issues! Just that ever-so-familiar falling-apart kind of weariness.
Archive for technicolor lover
TURNING MONDAY INTO SUNDAY.
This post has a lot of photos.
Because I spent a huge chunk of my Sunday morning in bed and my Sunday afternoon-evening on the bus ride home to the city, it only seemed apt that I spend today pigging out (yeah, like I didn’t do that the whole long weekend) decked in unfabulous clothes while going around this side of the city— from a dental clinic in Philcoa to lunch at Trellis to dessert at Banapple to iced tea and cigarettes at Chocolate Kiss. Just as if it were a lazy Sunday afternoon.
My companion during the long ride home. Six hours from Quezon to Cubao because of traffic ON A SUNDAY? The cruelty.
And OMG OMG OMG. Lightsome.
I am aware that you can see my bra and a little of my little Asian boobies.
Meet Princess Jocelyn Salada who loved my strawberry crunch cheesecake just as much as I did.
Drew and Jocelyn.
Anna and Jocelyn have the same scrunchy faces.
I’m happy, she’s sleepy. Or sad. :(
Chicken Little-ish.
AND THEN WE RAN OUT OF GAS. LIKE SERIOUSLY, WE HAD TO WALK FROM BANAPPLE TO CALTEX. YOU’RE NOT A KATIPUNAN KID IF YOU’VE NEVER WALKED ALONG KATIPUNAN AVENUE EXTENSION, YO.
Princess Jocelyn Salada goes to Chocolate Kiss and fattens up on bottomless iced tea.
Start ‘em early.
Back in the city, back to work. And if anyone must know: D came back, and so did Chuchubells. I know I never mentioned the fallout Chuchubells and I had back in February. Losing my job and losing my man was both physically and emotionally taxing so I opted not to say anything here. But yeah, he’s back, too. He called me up Wednesday night (while my co-workers and I were speed-drinking and speed-eating at Cable Car during an extended break from work— good times) saying that we should catch up some time. And that he misses me, after all. And that his girlfriend’s coming home next month.
I’m tempted. So so tempted.
Also, I’m sick.
WEEK TO DATE.
Monday had me in the twilight zone with two ex-lovers ringing my phone. Two things these last three days made me realize:
- D is still capable of making me feel bad.
- I miss Chuchubells. That man was solid gold, but for all the wrong reasons.
Issues, I know. On a lighter note, here’s something a co-worker from eTel e-mailed me:
A rather happy start to what is surely going to be another dreary stuck-in-the-office-for-the-whole-of-summer summer: I’m heading way way down south for Easter break. I leave Thursday morning, right after work, to endure a 4+ hour bus ride on my own and I’m crossing my fingers (like, hard) that I don’t get lost.
Yay! Hope everyone enjoys the long weekend.
Super chopsuey entry. Yesssss, I have a camera; yessss, there will be pictures.
THREE THINGS.
EDIT// Haha! Who bitchslapped who— I fucking aced the assessment.
One. I feel like stabbing my head with a spoon. One week of learning and working with Sabre and I’m about thisclose to giving up and endorsing myself to our HR department for a position in maintenance. It’s all codes and commands and again: I REFUSE! to be had by a string of letters and crosses of Lorraines and filters and dashes and slashes and ARGH!!! It all follows a certain logic and I’ve got that nailed. It’s the fact that I. Don’t. Get. The Process. that’s killing me. And command pricing (forcing prices on flights) has me down on my knees.
I’m scared (not skurrred) for tonight’s first assessment.
Two. The other morning, D sent me the most romantic message in the eleven months we’ve known each other: You suck, dude.
A heart tug, a heart pop!, and after four months, I finally get it. I don’t recycle men.
Three. Goat.
Okay, I’m off to get bitchslapped by Sabre. :(
AND IN THIS CORNER, WE HAVE!
Mikey has challenged me to a drinkoff.
Too lazy to click the link? You suck Cambodian smelly garbage man balls.
Helga: You and me. Anywhere in Ortigas. First one who throws up(Or loses all sense of inhibition and proceeds to do something silly) loses. What say you? *Slaps Helga with a leather glove*
In other news, D is bugging me for a rebooty. It’s either I’m that good, or his girlfriend really just sucks.
Copyright Helga Weber | May 2008 | Sitemap | Top
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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. 
