Lucky Me [not the noodle]

I hosted a girls' night in for a few friends a couple of days ago. It was a bit of work--grocery-shopping, cooking and entree, main course and dessert, cleaning my room for the sleepover--but I had so much fun! Imagine me, little miss lazybones slaving over chores for a few girlfriends (heck, I can't even lift a finger to clean my pigsty of a room sometimes) and actually liking it? Boy, some things sure have changed.

I entered college vowing that I would expand my horizons. By that I meant having guy friends. Sure, nice girls were welcome, but who needs new girlfriends when I've had a tight clique of girlfriends from way back grade school? I felt so boxed in and repressed by my 12 years in an exclusive school for girls (albeit run by nuns!) that I was raring to interact with more guys than I do girls. Little did I know...

The four girls that came to my house last Thursday--they're a great bunch. Although I never would have expected to be friends with them like, ever.

There's AGNES, the youngest one. The first time I got to know her, I thought, hey, here's a wack job! She was just...weird. She talked in this tiny voice, liked doodling on her own skin, and looked like Gladys Reyes (whatta combination). I'm happy to have realized that she was so much more than that. Sure, she still is weird, but she's also nice, funny and very talented. A party is never complete without her. She just has this weird gift of making people laugh, even if she does it unintentionally.

Then there's LOVE. I did not like her the first time I knew her. She, to me, seemed maarte, mataray, and maldita (wow). Well, getting to know her didn't really prove those notions wrong, but now that's what endeared her to me. I guess I didn't like her before because I was unknowingly seeing a reflection of myself (hah!). I guess it takes one to know one! If birds of the same feather did flock together, then I guess we both have pink and purple plumes!

TSERI is definitely one-in-a-million. There's just nobody like her. She's weird, moody, a little slow sometimes, and waaay confused. But she's also very pretty, has really good taste in music, very creative and really sweet. She used to hate boytalk but now there's no one better to talk boys to than her!

And LENI, my most trusted college friend. She definitely has a strong personality--to the point of people branding her all sorts of labels. I am lucky to have been let in on her soft side more than a couple of times. Sure, she's brutally frank and is never hesitant to voice her opinions, but those are things that I really admire in her. If I could plainly say what's on my mind half the time, I woul be a very happy girl. On top of that, she's very loyal and is always grateful for the smallest favors. She's a true person and that's so hard to find these days. A diamond in the rough.

And ME--I'm a very lucky girl for having friends like these. Here's to lasting friendships and more GNI's!

woohoohoo...

Of Love and Other Devilishly Gorgeous Demi-gods

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.

And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it's not true.

I have no idea why I typed in the poem above. Maybe it's my love for poetry. Maybe it's my adoration for Neruda and his gift of touching one's deepest emotions. Maybe it's seeing Orlando Bloom on tv or hearing Constantine singing Bohemian Rhapsody. Maybe it's just the romantic in me.

I Appreciate Being Appreciated [bow]

Wow, third post in a day. I'm on a roll. Adrenaline still hasn't emptied itself out of my system since 3am today. The rush sure beats Red Bull anyday. After a long day of feeling like crap and doing nothing, nothing beats a great conversation with friends about absolutely nothing. Just your random thoughts laid out on the table, waiting for someone to pick it up and make good play with it. I actually felt good about something today. Someone--a friend--thanked me. And I think it was the most sincere thing I got in my 6+ years of knowing him. The fact that he thanked me over something I was planning on doing anyways made it extra special. It was a good feeling--getting the appreciation, getting thanks, knowing you did what you knew best to do--especially when I really didn't expect anything. It was the smallest of gestures, but it sure meant the world. Thanks, Dell. It meant a lot.

"Free will, brother. Free will."

free will adj: of one's own free will: VOLUNTARY I don't get this free will thingy. Voluntary--that's the operative word. Doing something out of your own consciousness, your own discretion. If this is so, then why the heck am I supposed to do things I don't like doing? i.e. that darned passport. I wasn't even the one who friggin' lost it. And now I'm the one who has to slave over getting a new one. It was not of my doing, ok. And it certainly is not to my liking. that forever-dragging competition. Sure, at first the lure of prestige and 50,000 cash had me salivating. Not anymore. I don't want to spend my entire summer (the only summer in my entire college life that I don't have to take make-up classes) slaving over something I don't want to do anymore. Call me fickle. Sorry, Basil, I've lost my mojo. The passport, out of necessity and for the sake of my future as a made man, is something I cannot do anything about. It must simply be so. But the competition. I'm sooo tired of it. I don't want to do it anymore. I QUIT!

I always said quitters were losers. Fine then, I may have lost the war, but I most certainly have not lost the battle. At least not yet.

God gave me free will and as any freebie, I would enjoy it as much as I can.

Insomnia is Short for IN SO MANY WAYS...WOW

My watch tells me it's 2:47 in the morning. So what in the name of God am I still doing up? Me, the one who sleeps in on everone else during sleepovers, me whose senses automatically turn into hibernate mode at the stroke of midnight, ME!What could have happened today that caused my adrenaline to go into overdrive and thus prevent me from succumbing into deep, undisturbed slumber?

Let's see. I woke up rather late, then decided to get a haircut once and for all after lunch. Took a bath, dressed up, had lunch, went to the salon where my stylist (who suspiciously looked like Mystica---WHAAAAAT!)proceeded to ever so gently and cautiously chop my hair until the whole salon (or my booth at least) resembled a shedding sasquatch's cave.

Afterwards I decided it was too early to go home--after all, I did not wake up and get dressed just to sit in a chair for half an hour! So I decided to go to the mall and vent out all the summer UV's I absorbed through what I do best when bored or under pressure--SHOPPING!

I arrived at the mall, climbed up and down what was seemingly a Mt. Everest of an overpass, got inside the mall, got a couple of magazines and plopped myself down, a slice of apple pie on one hand and a tumbler of iced mocha on the other.

Afterwards I went to one of my favorite places--the bookstore. I was feeling kinda artsy-fartsy and wanted to buy a huge piece of canvas to later pour all my emotions into. Unfortunately, my search for a true Frida Kahlo moment was hindered by the shortage of a few hundred bucks. Man, what's canvass made out of these days anyway, gold? (I actually had that kind of moolah a mere 5 minutes ago, but I saw this cute blouse I just couldn't resist buying. So there).

But the lack of finances did not mean a lack of ingenuity. I got myself a couple of boxes of colored chalk to grafitti my bedroom walls with (I later found out that my walls were adamantly resistant to such kind of desecration). Then as I was heading of into the taxi line, my eye caught a lovely pair of wrap sunglasses. My inner Carrie Bradshaw kicked in and I left the building with just enough cash to take me home. I swear, if I keep this up, I'd be wallowing in debt for the rest of my poor, penniless existence.

I got home and it was hot. Nay, it was sweltering. Worse, my A/C filter morphed into a dustbunny version of spongebob squarepants. So I had to clean it and let it dry for at least 30 minutes before I could switch my lifesaver on. Drats!

My creative juices were struggling to be released. So, in my oven toaster of a bedroom, I let them flow. Once, twice, three times. Four, until at last I was satisfied. It took me 3 hours, one missed dinner and an almost-spat with my grandpa.

And then HE called. Twice, but my phone was on silent and I was then immersed into my brand-new sketch pad that I missed it. He called. Twice. I missed it. Twice. I was on the verge of strangling myself when a friend confirmed that it was, indeed, HIM. Him. My guy, as Whoopi Goldberg said. My ain true love, according to Sting. The Patrick Starfish to my lovestruck Spongebob Squarepants.

As I thought cupid had finally given up on my hopeless little heart, my phone rang again. It was like the Vienna boys' choir in concert, or angels singing up in the heavens (Actually, more like cicadas making noise atop the trees, but we're going poetic here). I picked up the phone, took a deep breath and, with feigned cool that would make the Ice Queen proud, said hello.

The entire conversation was a blur. Still is a blur. All I could remember was him thanking me for the help on a previous matter, then him saying goodnight. In my daydreams, it would have been dialogue that would put Romeo and Juliet to shame, but heck, this was fact and not fiction. Welcome to the real world, said John Mayer.

So I guess that's why I can't friggin' sleep. It was not just that particular moment, it was the whole day. A whole day of adrenaline, endorphins, a caffeine shot and pure sugar rush. Insomnia due to, well, in so many ways...WOW. What a day.

PS Someday I know I'll look back at this post and laugh. Or maybe be so embarassed that I'll delete it and pretend it never happened--just that one day, in the wee hours of the morning, I couldn't sleep. Sure beats counting sheep.

Leaving Yesterday Behind

I just voted for my org's (Yeyo, ARKIFORUM!)first-ever online elections. Asteeg talaga. I would never have thought for it to be more than a speck of an experience, but it was huge for me. It was significant in the sense that it was a sign of change, of movement, of hope. Heck, it was a sign of battles fought and won--and of more to come.

I am proud to have served AF as I promised, although I never would have thought I would be given that chance in a million years. Before AF, I was always the ultimate follower and when times deemed necesary, the silent leader. In a way, I still am, but I am now more inclined to take the wheel than the backseat. I guess..no, I KNOW I'm more out there, more confident, more willing to venture out of my shell because of AF.

As much as I will miss being on the helm, I am more fueled by the knowledge that next year, AF will be in good hands (hopefully the best). It has the makings of a great epic movie, if you may--unexpected leaderships, first-timers, young blood (but hungry and passionate blood nonetheless). I must admit I have high hopes for all of them. After all, high hopes were all I had to make happen whatever I planned for AF. It was, at times, all I had.

I am happy to have extra time for all that I need to accomplish for myself now that I don't have as much work from AF. But I will miss it dearly, all of it--even the trials, the tears, the issues, the pressure and whatnot.

But hey, I'm still here. I won't be gone. After all, I am ANJ. Corny it may seem, but it might just stand for ANJan palagi. :D

true love

alas, my sunset has come

Firsts of Many Un-firsts

I created a new blog today. This one, let's just say, out of neccessity. The other ones (all of which I've forgotten access info to) were all out of curiosity. If that's that, it must be true then--curiosity did kill the cat. Or maybe the blog. This is the first of many unfirsts for me. First time I did something I hadn't planned on doing; first time I am intending to keep it (unfortunately not the first time I said that to myself). First time I'm letting it all out for everyone to see. So that's my first of many un-firsts. Hope it lasts.