Saturday, January 15, 2011


They're definitely not just for kids. They're for everyone; you can never be too old to have a crush. That flutter in the stomach for a gesture that has absolutely no meaning but one that consumes your entire brain trying to analyze? That's a whole sleep lost we deserve to suffer from.

Even the ridiculous ones. Even the one I had on Aidan Grimshaw where I traveled to London just to chance upon maybe meeting him strutting along Oxford Circus. Of course he wasn't the reason why I went there, but he was the first thing that came to mind when I found out I will.

Or if it's as near a person as Chester Taylor when I was a freshman in UST, where I even preserved his number (which I got from a reliable source I tell ya) on my phone thinking maybe someday, I'll have the guts to use it.

Or if it's the real crushes you get as with DJ Caro, my P.E mate in Basketball whom I went nuts for just by the sight of.

Yes I'm name dropping, because I'm brave. Because I don't think it's something to be ashamed of. Whether they're unrequited or just totally improbable - like my undying love for James Lafferty (yes I still think I have a shot with Aidan) or my newly-developed infatuation for Andrew Garfield, who, I might say, is up on the top of my list to be my next wallpaper.

Only other guys who have made it there on my virtual wall were Kobe Bryant, Cristiano Ronaldo and Lee Dewyze. But Spiderman is just going to have to hang in there a little while longer because Neil Etheridge is definitely my favorite next pin-up boy.

Silly things like these, they divert thoughts of work to some kind
of a storage folder while you bliss in 10 wonderful minutes of just spacing off and thinking about your wedding. Of course it's so much better when your work has to do with thinking about these crushes. And getting through to those crushes; incidents that are just most deserving of a screengrab, and tantamount to a blog post. Like this one.

I'm writing this because I haven't eaten a th
ing since last night but for the first time in a very long time, I don't care. My stomach is full of butterflies.

Also I'm writing this because days ago, a boy's name came up in some conversations, and I can't believe up until that time, I have not lay a thought on him.

All because I'm busy with the awesomeness of getting to watch Jesse Williams every Thursday night, or staying up on Twitter all day, looking out for Etheridge's next tweet. Which, in turn, gives me a feeling so much nicer than any other feeling being in love with somebody who's too full of himself to give a crap ever gave me.

I'm writing this because I have finally come into the conclusion that there are so many other guys out there, and that he falls way desperately out of that league. Or, as I'm realizing, any other league.

So I think when I say, this time, that I have finally moved on, people ought to believe me.

I have my wallpaper, and my heart devoid of his name, to show for it.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

All hail 2011

Finally, misery year is over and I can finally say 'To hell with you 2010, I beat your ass.'

By some streak of luck, I managed to get out of that hell year alive, and well, kicking. There are some things I learned that I'm either gonna leave behind or take away with me. The leave-behinds are well out and done, and I eventually just tired out of talking about them (as I'm sure those who'd been hearing it did as well) so I want to move on to the ones I'll carry over to the next year.

First, the light one, but never to be underestimated: The power of Music. They say the words which no other person can, and fill some terribly empty space where no other can even go. Bands to thank this year: Wakey! Wakey! and Keane. "I know you wanna stay in bed, but there's light outside." Of course this year, I finally got on riding with the Beatle (band) wagon, and let's just say that without "Hey Jude" I've probably jumped into the MRT rail and be dead by now. (I'm dead serious.) So this year, my iPod is some prized (or is it priced, i never really mastered the difference) possession.

Second, also light, but also very powerful: My Books. Lee Fiora, Miles Halter, Esther Greenwood and all of them fictional characters who served as my Loony Ward and actually managed to make me feel I was not crazy. Not even close. You abandon these books sometimes and yet when it comes to times of crisis, you come running back to those shelves, desperate for some company. And company, I got. However sad and loner-ish that sounds, I'm proud to say I got myself new best friends this year, residing and preserved forever in the pages that once came alive and gave me home.

Next, I think I'm probably going to be more social this year. Granted the process of getting there would be very awkward and painful but I'm determined to live that "version" of a full life. It won't mean I'll be partying, relax you guyz. I just mean maybe it's time to choose dinner dates or coffee dates over FRIENDS marathon from time to time (note: 'from time to time'. You can never totally leave FRIENDS behind.) Working at a large company for almost two months now has highlighted the severity of my being an exclusive freak; exclusive freak - a disorder by which a person feels the critical need to keep things she holds special all to herself and to the ones close to her. To put it simply: when it comes to people horizon, I very much need to broaden it.

Next next, a very light one I probably won't take seriously thus would never take effect: Watch my diet. I'm thin, I am, but my tummy has grown so big it's gotten so out of control and I've thrown out a lot of my favorite clothes because they don't fit me anymore. In the past week, I've received three gifts from three special people which I gave back/exchanged because there was no way I would be seen wearing a skimpy shirt looking like a knocked up bimbo. That's how bad it is.

Next next next, life is really just so freaking funny sometimes. Five months ago, I was in total, utter depression, so terminal I had to write "positive" things in a notebook just so I'd have something to read the next morning or else I'll lose it. And then something happened, and I'm writing this now with a heart lightest than I've ever had it, and there's not even a boy involved, just life, and the parts of it I was given.

Next next next next, maybe this year I can include love (yes the cheesy stuff) in my dreams, too. For so long it has been just about work and career, now that I've found peace, as my boss puts is, "at home", maybe now there's a place for lurve (and other drugs.)

Last, I need to work on my faith.

Last last, I have now taken it upon myself to make my family work, in the best way it ever did. Among all my other goals, that's probably on the top, but one I've been carelessly neglecting. Maybe 2011 will finally be the difference.

2011, you got my ass? I hope you do, and save it, if ever, too.