- lost my contacts whilst wearing 'em. only me could possibly do that. and no, i wasn't even intoxicated.
- my camera fell off my bag for no apparent reason other than me being the biggest klutz this side of the ocean.
- my phone found its way into my mug which is half-filled with water. this has happened to my ipod, too. again, i was sober.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
christmas '09 (round 1)
Labels:
material girl
Friday, December 11, 2009
baby, it's cold outside...
(alona beach, panglao, bohol, philippines)
this is how i would want to spend my day. everyday.
but mom, how come i never learned how to swim?
Labels:
bohol
,
seasandsun
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
i partied like it's your birthday..
it's your birthday
but i don't miss you
i miss him who told me
my skin's soft as hell
i miss him who calls his monkey unggs
him who likes thunders and lightnings
him who likes the rain because he likes to cuddle
him whose friends adore me
him who sang me lullabies
him who would chop me to bits and pieces then
feed me to the sharks
just because he thought i was too cute
him who paints and cleans his house
and dons white sneakers
him who would ask me what i was wearing
so he could match his to mine
him who would let me poledance and would actually
enjoy it
him who made me read between the lines and his
thoughts on Shiva
him who thought out loud i was pretty and smart and tiny
him who i wish misses me back
yes, him who made me realize i was worth it
and him who showed me all the things you didn't.
it's your birthday and i don't miss you.
but i don't miss you
i miss him who told me
my skin's soft as hell
i miss him who calls his monkey unggs
him who likes thunders and lightnings
him who likes the rain because he likes to cuddle
him whose friends adore me
him who sang me lullabies
him who would chop me to bits and pieces then
feed me to the sharks
just because he thought i was too cute
him who paints and cleans his house
and dons white sneakers
him who would ask me what i was wearing
so he could match his to mine
him who would let me poledance and would actually
enjoy it
him who made me read between the lines and his
thoughts on Shiva
him who thought out loud i was pretty and smart and tiny
him who i wish misses me back
yes, him who made me realize i was worth it
and him who showed me all the things you didn't.
it's your birthday and i don't miss you.
she IS stargirl..
she takes from the sun...
but gives to the moon...
sometimes, i wish THIS is what busy really looks like. i have been working my ass really hard these past few weeks. not that i am complaining 'cause i have never felt more comfortable in a workplace in my six years of being an overworked/underpaid ant. any given day is being spent (not-so-well) on getting enough shuteye, meeting deadlines and meeting up with friends who are leaving soon. and with my whoreish tendencies (read: wearing a shirt masquerading as a dress, sequins and leathers and feathers and really skimpy shorts/skirts) trying to look a wee bit presentable in the corporate world everysingleday is HARDWORK. now, you don't put 50 girls under one roof and expect them to not be critical with just about anything, do you? girls are such wonderful creatures -- we judge each other not with our IQs but with how far we can actually walk-run in 5 inch stilettos without losing our sanity. sometimes i wish sneakers could make my legs look longer. i'd be a happier soul. but then again, maybe not. i wore heels in a PE class one time and was excused from the ballgame and got a 1.25 final grade to boot.
so, what am i exactly whining about? i just wish the days were longer and the nights cooler. maybe by then i could be under the sun longer or be howling at the moon and not worry about not getting enough sleep. because of all the things i love, sleeping tops the list.
but gives to the moon...
sometimes, i wish THIS is what busy really looks like. i have been working my ass really hard these past few weeks. not that i am complaining 'cause i have never felt more comfortable in a workplace in my six years of being an overworked/underpaid ant. any given day is being spent (not-so-well) on getting enough shuteye, meeting deadlines and meeting up with friends who are leaving soon. and with my whoreish tendencies (read: wearing a shirt masquerading as a dress, sequins and leathers and feathers and really skimpy shorts/skirts) trying to look a wee bit presentable in the corporate world everysingleday is HARDWORK. now, you don't put 50 girls under one roof and expect them to not be critical with just about anything, do you? girls are such wonderful creatures -- we judge each other not with our IQs but with how far we can actually walk-run in 5 inch stilettos without losing our sanity. sometimes i wish sneakers could make my legs look longer. i'd be a happier soul. but then again, maybe not. i wore heels in a PE class one time and was excused from the ballgame and got a 1.25 final grade to boot.
so, what am i exactly whining about? i just wish the days were longer and the nights cooler. maybe by then i could be under the sun longer or be howling at the moon and not worry about not getting enough sleep. because of all the things i love, sleeping tops the list.
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)