Proof that if things don’t go as planned, then your plan was wrong. =P We originally wanted to idle away in Boracay for January, but after some discussions, hotel-scouting, and some shifts in the constellations, plans changed and we opted to meet up with Mike in Cebu instead. Continue reading Kaladkarin Invades Cebu Once Again!
Somehow, this was just how things just came to be. Table for one. Cinema ticket for one. Weekend for one. It’s amazing how much you can get used to after a while.
You imagine how it must feel. Sweat drops falling on the ridge of your face from the nervousness of someone recognizing you and exposing the loner that you are. Some random stranger making a face at you like, ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’. But you know what? I’m 24 and it’s about time I grew out of the HS-posse-mentality. It’s just like another fear I had to conquer.
And once you’ve done it — eating out by yourself, saying ‘just one please’ to that movie ticket lady — it’s actually liberating.
It’s actually comforting to know that if you meet someone, it was not because you just needed company, or in short, just practically anyone. It was because you needed Him (and for me it takes a lot of guts to admit I need someone).
It’s been a while since our last kids’ day out, so Ate Ting, Ikay (my niece) and I set off for Manila for a fishy escapade at Manila Ocean Park. Apparently, a lot of other kiddies also had the same idea. The place was so packed, you had to get a number, just to BUY the ticket. To give you an idea, the number I got was 890; they were still serving number 357. The three of us let the time pass by gorging on munchies and looking for good photo-op spots.
Finally, we got our tickets and entered the oceanarium. As you may have already predicted, we saw fish after fish after fish after fish. I had fun, though, as I’ve never been in another oceanarium before. The shark tank was a bit of a downer, though; I was hoping to see big ones. However, all in all, since I had Ate Ting and Ikay for company, there was never a dull moment. 🙂
Pics over at http://ishg.multiply.com/photos/album/34/Tres_Marias_Set_Loose_At_Ocean_Park.
It’s just how mean the world can sometimes get — someone with an above-average IQ and all the medals to show for it can still be utterly stupid. Pitiful.
I’m actually ashamed of how shallow I can get, but as my usual arrogant self back in high school, I used to think that I was so much better than almost everyone else. This was the first time I genuinely envied the other girls who fooled around, made mistakes and gambled with their hearts early, instead of drowning themselves in books. They knew FAR more about the stuff that actually mattered.
I resolve to make more mistakes from now on.
Dear Self,
Nobody was ever born perfect,so get used to making mistakes.
Get used to doing things that you wish you haven’t done. Get used to NOT doing things you should have done, if only you had the wits (or guts) that a meaningful life calls for.
Bottom line – get used to making mistakes. Lots of them. In fact, start enjoying the experience.
the thing that i love about hanging out with Team Bugsy are the zany theories we throw at each other, ranging from the hands-down-insane to the this-might-be-worth-taking-a-look-at. during one of our bouts during the long weekend, a friend piped up with this conclusion — there are no good-looking guys born during our year, 1984.
okay, okay, before the hostile reactions, i admit that this might be quite a rash generalization — that’s why we’re asking people to prove us wrong. do you guys beg to differ? send us pics, and we’ll eat our words. =P otherwise, who knows, ridiculous as it sounds, this might just have a hint of truth that we never really thought about. [i have a feeling i might have a lot of hate mail after this. haha!]
nah, hate isn’t the word. i LOATHE motorcycles. got hit by one earlier while i was crossing the street with Ikay. joey was right — it’ll literally send you spinning. the driver didn’t even have the decency to stop and go back to apologize; i absolutely hated myself when i stood there, stunned, and then shouted after him, ‘Sorry!’. tanga. grrr.
i wish that was the worst part. in all the flurry, i didn’t realize that he sent my earphones flying off to oblivion. kakabili ko lang nun! grrr talaga. buti na lang mabilis ang karma. Dear Lord, kung okay lang naman, please make this one extra fast. Amen.
Another long weekend well-spent. =) After watching Live Aids just the night before, we whisked ourselves away to Tidoy’s pad in Tagaytay to bum together (couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the time =P).
For girls with no plans, we certainly got to do a lot together:
.: crashing 2 weddings @ Sonya’s Garden (even bumped into Joy!)
.: braving the cold with only coffee from Starbucks
.: stuffed ourselves with greek dishes at a random Greek resto by the road
.: got wowed by Tidoy’s awesome driving through the fog and the Highland’s winding roads with a visibility of only 3 feet (holy cow, how does she do that?!)
.: had dancing lessons courtesy of Tidoy’s floor-to-ceiling mirror panels
.: went loony during an emo pictorial with Joey & Tetel (and found a new respect for kids putting eyeliner, btw)
.: saw plants, plants and more plants, and got treated to a healthy breakfast at the Highland’s Bistro Saratoga
.: capped off an idyllic weekend getting pampered at the T House Spa
Unwinding with these guys was exactly the type of rescuing I needed, and I’m utterly euphoric that I wasn’t able to miss this one. It was a thrill to see how much we’ve grown, and how much we haven’t really. =P Here’s to Bugsy, and can’t wait til our next escape. Mace, Kmed and Crisel, you absolutely HAVE to be there next time! =)
Pics over at https://picasaweb.google.com/108800249052978959532/200811BugsyChillsAtTagaytay.
saw this blog entry about kate moss’ legs. i feel better now. =P
at the risk of putting up another emo post [yet again! eeep, i’m on a streak], i’m sharing this poem i came across while reading a melissa bank novel. i may as well have had written this poem myself. if it’s possible for your spirits to rise & fall at the same time, then i believe mine just went through that exact (non)rise/(non)fall a moment ago.
One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
october — we love it for the beerbash, but dread it for the annual performance review. over at our end, our ratings (& more importantly, our increase) depend on this laborious document called PPR that we have to draft, detailing every itty-bitty achievement you’ve got that screams you deserve a ‘K’ (a.k.a. masokistang-istariray) rating.
i was thinking, if one were to take the work-life balance adage literally, then shouldn’t we make a PPR for life as well? for instance, instead of the ‘Employee’ section, you’ll have one for ‘Peer’ or ‘Person’. or instead of ‘Operational Excellence’, you’ll have one for ‘Existential Feats’, and so on. yeah, yeah, i know i’m being so geeky about it, but i can’t help it — my head’s now spinning with the million analogies dying to make it to this post.
i mean, why not? if you were going to make a PPR for life, how would it look like?
it gets tiring, crying yourself to sleep each time. quite frankly, the self-pity is pathetic and enough is enough.
.: ishcapades 