Archive for technicolor lover
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. :(
September 5, 2006 at 1:12 pm | Filed under bitchin' a ride, technicolor lover
I have the worst luck with (men and) cab drivers.
Last night, D wrestled my phone away from me, and I almost scratched his eyes out.
Some days, I absolutely adore him; some days, I want to stick a pair of stilettos up his ass and shrug my shoulders in resignation.
Some days, I just don’t care.
You peer inside yourself / You take the things you like / And try to love the things you took / And then you take that love you made and stick it into some / Someone else’s heart / Pumping someone else’s blood / And walking arm in arm / You hope it don’t get harmed / But even if it does / You’ll just do it all again
-On The Radio, Regina Spektor
PS: I am SOFUCKINGSICK of that Rihanna song.
September 4, 2006 at 12:44 pm | Filed under a waste of human capital, joyful girl, technicolor lover
My Saturday nights consist of Japanese food and a movie with Roel. Contrary to what it may seem, it’s actually quite fun. :lolol:
D and I never seem to spend our Saturday nights together. At first, I bitterly owed it to the fact that Saturday nights belong to the official girlfriend, and I have to make do with Fridays, Sundays, and some weekdays. DO YOU SEE HOW GREEDY I AM? Then again, maybe not. I mean, I get this evil sense of satisfaction knowing that he spends more time with me than her, but knowing that it’s her whom he brings to family dinners just cancels out that little victory. Helga 0; Girlfriend 1.
Oh. He didn’t see her the whole weekend, though. Or maybe he did, but he’s learned his lesson by now, and opted not to let me know :hmph:. Also, I realize that Saturday nights don’t necessarily translate to Girlfriend Nights; rather, they’re D Has A Life Outside Work And Helga Nights. :)
So anyway, my bed’s still broken. And I had to flip the mattress because D and I have done some damage to its springs, too.
He’ll be moving his things to Alabang this week. He’ll be an hour and a half away from me now, instead of just fifteen minutes :(.
FUUUUCK, I just closed a 10-liner! :woohoo: I’ve been working on that sale for FIVE fucking hours— TOES and it’s system issues.
Happy D thought for the day:
<3 I love his arms (typical macho man arms, haha--- muscled and strong, the size of half my thigh? :P). They make for good hugging, good carrying, good biting, and good sleeping. Yes, the man hogs my pillows and I have to get by by snuggling into his armpit, my head and a hand resting on his bicep.
August 25, 2006 at 6:29 am | Filed under technicolor lover, the internets
D and I broke my bed.
(Okay, so I broke the bed because I was the one on top.)
We are teh sex!
(Okay, so nevermind that we had a fight before, and an even huger fight after.)
PS: I love my Vox.
August 24, 2006 at 10:48 am | Filed under a waste of human capital, bitchin' a ride, technicolor lover
RAVE: Jen and Niel got married last Sunday. No photos yet (besides, I looked horrible in my yellowgreen and yellow bridesmaid’s gown), since none of us brought a camera. So we have to wait three weeks to get the pictures from the hired photographer.
JEN DEVERA-OCAMPO, WOOHOO! :woohoo: I love that bitch, she was so gorgeous beautiful in her wedding dress.
BITCH: So D has been promoted to TOIC/Team Leader. He’s been off the phone for almost a month, having been “promoted” to Sales Coach when Project Phoenix launched last August 1. Now he’s permanently off taking calls AND OFF THE FLOOR— the Makati site floor, that is. Yep, he’s moving locations, too. eTelecare is opening another site down south in Alabang and our account is opening 100 seats over there. Lots of people from the Makati site transferring, lots of new people coming in. I don’t wanna move back down south. I grew up there, after all. I’ve been living in the city for more than four years now and I have no plans on going back to the suburbs. :P
He got promoted last Monday, and he’s been in the Leadership Development Program (over at the Libis site) since. I’m happy for him— he’s been wanting this promotion for the longest time. But. I told him that I needed time to let the fact that I’m never gonna see him on the floor ever again sink in. He told me that “you will, trust me, you will.” Let’s see.
MOAN: Because my August sucks, I’m a candidate for Project Phoenix/Titan’s Performance Improvement Program. My running unit conversion rate is 2 percent off the goal, and I have one week to get out of the candidate list. If my performance and sales don’t pick up, I go into Phoenix for one month. If I still don’t improve, I’m fired.
Now this sucks. I used to be a highflyer back in my old team (Mnemosyne), so I don’t know where I went wrong. BAH. :hmph:
D: Why the hell are you in PIP?
Helga: I’m in the running for PIP and my TL didn’t even inform me?
D: I don’t want to see you in PIP, okay, I just want to see you hehe.
The pressure is on to make those sales, and I hate being pressured.
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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. 
