Everything has been so miserable lately. Horridly so. I am so mentally exhausted that my body hurts. A migraine awaits me the moment I wake up. I am so looking forward to witness the remaining zest for living I have be sucked out of me and trampled on by a sixteen-wheeler truck. Pootooey, I say. I spit at your general direction. Whoever and whatever you are. The company just announced that we can now reap the joys of our profit sharing program. Pootooey. I am miserably dwelling in a demoralized hole. I can't even begin to think of ways wherein I will supposedly reap these joys from. As far as I know, joy has been already reaped, pulled out from the roots and minced into indiscrimate pieces. Ah pootooey. I even go into weekends already dreading the coming Monday. Okay, I just basically negated the excitement I've pent up for this weekend.

Poo. Tang. Ina.

Summer. It's when your body actually requires you to go on a vacation. It must be muscle memory. Or something like that. I mean after eons of having a schoolyear-summer break split, your whole being would at some point encoded that somewhere. After almost 3 years of working, I still haven't adapted to the no-summer mindset. Okay fine I don't have two straight months anymore. Just mini-summers. Here's to making the most out of the sunny freshness, even the glistening humidity.

A Baguio weekend is up and coming! Another ukay extravaganza. Fresh, cool air the natural way. I can't wait to eat at Mile-High Diner, Carlo's Pizza and the Rose Bowl. I can't wait to go to Mine's View to eat grilled sweet corn dripping with butter. Then we'll buy Tamtanco's Ube Jam. We'll just be spending one night there, but that will be enough to refresh me.


Next will be Ilocos! We'll be spending Holy Week there. I can't wait for Batac empanada. And PS2. And most especially, I can't wait for Pagudpud! Weee!!! Sun, sand and a bikini! I just hope I lose all this flab by then (or at least some of it). And on Holy Thursday, we do the Bisita Iglesia - a round of all the old churches in the nearby towns. This time, I will not forget to charge my camera.


I've got another Ilocos trip lined up for September, for my grandma's birthday. That will be another fun one. I'll be bringing Chips along for that again. He's just fallen in love with the place. Then we've got a Boracay trip booked for October, care of the 10-peso promo of Cebu Pacific. There should be more beach trips until then. There just should.

I downloaded this song and I can't stop playing it. While K is on the "You're Beautiful" side of things, I'm lying comfortably amidst the words of "Goodbye my Lover". I'm so getting his album.

You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover. Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one. You have been the one for me.

Is that just brilliant or what. Okay, let's play it again...


On another note, I got a new book yesterday. It's somewhat a Dracula story. But not quite. It also some form of Hannibal in it, the reviews say. It sounded interesting. I really hope it's a good read. Because it was pretty damn expensive. I just forgot to bring it to work today. Dangit.

I was reading through Elber's blog and was challenged by one of his posts where he did an inventory of his shoes. It made me wonder how many pairs I had, since I always blogged about loving shoes and buying a new pair of shoes and all that nonesense about shoes. And so I present to you my attempt to mentally note all the shoes I have in my room. Unless otherwise specified, heeled ones are stilletos or kitten heels. And if lumped together, do not mean that they're all the same style but in different colors. I'm not that OC.

2 Havaianas
3 Myxstar flipflops
3 Flats (closed toe) in gold, brown & moss green
5 Flats (open toe) in pink, bronze, black, brown & white
1 3" black Nine West pumps
1 2.5" black Nine West peep-toe slingbacks
2 2.5" metallic Schu sandals in gold & bronze
1 2" brown Zara croc-skin pumps
1 Flat brown boots (calf-high)
1 2.5" camel Shoe Studio boots (narrow heel, mid calf)
1 2" black Bass boots (block heel, mid calf)
2 Converse sneaks in hot pink and navy blue
1 Adidas flip flops
2 Adidas sneakers; 1 casual and the other for the gym
2 1.5" pumps in camel and black
1 dark green woven wedges
1 1.5" black "snakeskin" closed toe slingbacks
1 3" black Nine West sandals
1 2.5" black M)phosis strappy sandals
1 3" white Janilyn pumps
1 3" camel Janilyn sandals
1 2" flesh Charles & Keith sandals

That counts 35 pairs of shoes. That counts those I can remember. That does not count those that I don't wear but are stacked somewhere in my room (it may go over 40). I don't know how I ended up with this many shoes. I always feel that there are nuances that make each shoe different from the other. Like which style will be best worn with what outfit, with what length of pants or jeans, with which skirt, for what kind of weather. Chips doesn't understand it. Even my mother can't understand it.

I really should give some away. But who'd be in need of 3" stilletos?

Pros. Being in a miniskirt and flip flops on a hot day. If only you can dress like this for work. So comfy and perfect for the uber-humidified summer season. Going to a children's party themed birthday celebration. Have ice cream and pancit malabon with cheese and puto and macaroons. Have a winner massage and a pedicure. Beat Ronnie, blacklist #3 on NFS, with an Evo VIII. Get his Aston Martin. Chips gets an iPod Nano. He's going to name it Lil Dvil (that's what he calls me, hehe). Eat an all-beef shawarma with cheese. Aaaaahhhh yummmmyyy!!!

Cons. Lose my tweezer - again. My cellphone line got cut. I finally paid the bill. It will take three more working days for the line to be reconnected. Dangit. Jamaica, Chips' labrador, pounces on me and rips apart my native necklace. I'm craving for more all-beef shawarma with cheese.

You know what sucks about the weekend? It ends. Bah humbug.

There was once someone here.
Breathing calmly the air.
With feet swaying softly over the ground.
With a wildness contained within a soul at peace.
I saw her once here.
Sitting on the ancient stones,
listening to the talkings of the earth-
to the musings of the heavens;
With thoughts wandering up into the clouds.
There used to be someone here.
Within this violation of space.
Quiet, but with a zest unfazed;
Living, with a spirit undead.
I hope to find me here again.
But these ancient stones have no clue.

I finally gave into this.

And it's making me mighty happier.
Somehow the artist in me will live.

I'm not fully installed yet, but it's a start.
And a good end to the day.

I used to write.
Somewhere it's --
--
It's just lost.
This used to flow
more freely.
That the pen
couldn't keep up.
It was like
I had no pen.
That I just had words.
Beautiful words.
This is not --
--
I used to write.

Objective: To launch a pro-vacation campaign for the summer, specifically one that involves sun, sand and shore.

Target Market: M/F in their 20s contending with the corporate ladder, residing in cramped cubicles made of drab colored wood and cork boards. They are tired, but working. They feel like the world is against them. Usually underpaid and of low morale. Stress is accepted as a part of everyday life. Vacation is a big thing for them, because this is an absolute rarity.

Insight: Summer is beautiful. The sun, the fashion, the colorful flip-flops, the beach you lie on, the water you plunge into, the air breezing through the palm trees. But you're sitting on a chair that creaks, wheeling around linolium tiles. You're wearing a jacket to fight the biting cold from an assertive AC vent. You've got knots of stress on your back. You're dull. You're not beautiful.

Benefit:
A beach vacation can instantly de-stress and dampen all murderous intents (Primary emotional benefit).
A beach vacation can brighten you up via a bronzed, beautiful tan (Secondary tangible benefit).

RTB (Reason to Believe): That's because a beach vacation has all the natural ingredients known and proven to calm nerves and place someone in a state of serenity and content. It is infused with the brightness of sunshine, the coolness of water, the freshness of the sea breeze, and the relaxing sound of the crashing waves.

Executional Mandatories: White sand. No jologs. Bikini.

Things to take note of:
1. Ensure feasibility within budget
2. Bust muffin top barrier


Now tell me if I'm working too much.

Pass your papers.



Starbucks, 6750 Building
Ayala Avenue
Makati City

Sigh. Another telecon.
This hold music is so suicidal.
Any longer, I'll kill myself.
Pace around the room.
Toxic.
Word of the day.
It will be for the whole week.
Sigh.
Gaze out the window.
Oh.
Look.
Hello sky.


taken with K700i camera

This is what happens when you're bored waiting.





So, can anyone guess?

He thought that he redeemed himself by fixing the problems I had with my PC. I thought so too. I opened my then-busted computer to find that it runs quickly and smoothly. So now I reinstall all the missing programs, reinstate the back-up files, yada yada yada. I change the administrator name, because he apparently spelled it as FONZY.

So there I was, completing all the installations. Then I decided to check out the computer name. FONZY again. I work at renaming it. Okay that's done. This spelling thing is revealing quite a trend, I thought. I finally track all the names and change what I can. And then I arrive that the Documents & Setting folder. FONZY!!!! PACKERSHEEETTT!!!

And when I try to rename it, it says "Fonzy is a Windows system folder and is required for Windows to run properly. It cannot be moved or renamed."

FOOOCCCKKKERRR!!! This little thing amidst a big fixed problem is really getting the OC in me incredibly, undescribably irritated. I can't get it. I got my paintings with my signature. I got my work ID hanging beside the PC. He should've at least seen how it's correctly spelled when he was backing up my data. It's Fozzy, you stupid ass, FOZZY!

Any IT people reading this, please for the love of God, help.

I played badminton with my officemates last night. Actually, my boss was the one invited. But he tagged me along so he wouldn't be the only one who plays street-style (as in palong kalye). It's been almost a year since I last played. And I am totally not your athletic kinda girl. Unless of course marathon shopping is institutionalized as a sport. After much thought, I agreed. I need to lose weight for the summer anyway.

I was flashed back to the first time I resurrected the sport in my life.

Like then, the right half of my torso has become practically paralyzed by pain. And amidst a hefty dosage of Counterpain Cool. Brushing my teeth suddenly became a wince-worthy chore. My fingers are absolutely uncoordinated - I couldn't text properly! I laugh at myself. These are the things that make me realize how incredibly unfit I am.

One thing I've always wondered about though, is how other girls don't seem to sweat much when they play. Their hair never gets disheveled, their faces remain matte. While I sweat buckets. I wonder if there's something wrong with me. I theorize that it could be about the unfit-ness. I'd appreciate some medical or physiological explanation, if anyone could share any.

I wonder if my boss will be able to come in today.

"This city's made us crazy and we must get out."
- Maroon 5

"I've got to break free... Baby I want to break free."
- Queen

Pagudpud, Ilocos Norte

"D'you know what I mean?"
- Oasis

He must have been praying really hard last night. Else I would have eliminated all his chances of further growing his family tree. After a hefty lunch at Brazil Brazil (meat! meat! meat!), Chips and I head home with a mission to undo someone's major stupidity.

Armed with a screwdriver, we crack open the CPU and reconnect the drives. Hey look, the CD-rom is working. Impatiently, I wait until the game is fully re-installed. We found my old profile. We loaded it. It works. And the heavens parted with rays of sunshine with the angels playing their holy songs.

Let the games begin.

In case anyone wants to die early, I've just found an effective measure on how this can be accomplished. It involves an obsessive-compulsive person such as myself, and a highly addictive and beautiful computer game, such as NFS Most Wanted.

First, let that obsessive-compulsive person get inhumanely addicted and dedicated to the computer game. As a result of this, combined with a blessed amount of luck, the person should be able to covet almost all the items beloved by the competitors that were beaten. Out of 15 opponents, 8 would have already been conquered.

Second, catch this obsessive-compulsive person in the middle of a heated internal meeting at work. Advise that the installer of the game is needed. Panic ensues. Why would the installer be needed? GASP. Que horror. It cannot be. It just cannot be. Advise that as a consolation, the game is there but it just cannot be opened. Fine. Bullshit maybe, but fine.

Third, establish that the game can be fixed. That it just needs to be reinstalled. And everything will be saved. The obsessive-compulsive person enters a state of mind that tonight, equipped with the installer, everything will be okay.

Fourth and final step towards murder. Let that frame of mind be shattered by the harsh realization that the CD drive is not being read by the computer. None of the two CD drives are working. What the flying f*ck. Advise that in fact, the PC was opened up and the wiring of said drives were tinkered with. Tinkering may have led to forgetting to reconnect said wiring.

End of composure.

What kind of st*pid *ss f*cker forgets to at least friggin' test the drives before leaving the freakin' computer? And how could you accidentally uninstall such a game? When all the other games and files in the computer were f*cking saved when Windows was re-installed? Potanginang packershet. I swear, I will kick him where it counts the minute he steps into the house. Hard, with a 3-inch metal stilleto heel. The f*cker.

The season of Lent officially begun last Wednesday. And every Friday then after would be days of abstinence and fasting. No meat. One full meal a day.

Again I am struggling. Which is the whole point of this fasting thing anyway. I get hungry every two hours. Maybe even less. Besides that, my tastebuds reject (with a passion) anything that has lived in the water. I could probably tolerate some fresh water fishes. But shrimps, scallops, crabs and the rest is just pootooey.

I am such a carnivore. So... what will vegetarians give up? It's not fair.

On hindsight, this would hopefully get me slimmer in time for the beach trips. Okay, that's just me being selfish.

My PC at home is going kaput again. Despite the 256 ram I recently bought and installed, I can still feel it drawing every breath possible just to boot up. It takes ten million years before it actually brings me to the desktop. It's a kind of frustration that is absolutely undescribable. Oh and especially when I want to update Eliot? Opening iTunes is such a chore! When I had it reformatted last year, the smart-ass tech person placed Windows in my 10G HD instead of my 20G one. Such a fist-clencher.

Now here comes the hard part. I know I need to reformat it and have Windows in its rightful place. I know I need to back-up every last bit of what I currently have on my hard drive. That's a gazillion songs, photos and fonts. Moreover, I think I've lost some hardware drivers.

Gaaah.