I know I'm a bit delayed

with the greetings but HAPPY 2009!! :D

Woo-hoo!! We made it yet again! Congratulate yourselves for not giving into those strong urges to strangle that bastard to death, or to grant yourself a quick and painless death. *happy dance*

All the best people!! XOX

Husband & Wife

HAHAHAHAHA
what a crack-up.

(from Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal http://www.smbc-comics.com/)

A Beautiful Mess

You've got the best of both worlds
You're the kind of girl who can take down a man,
and lift him back up again.
You are strong, but you're needy
humble, but you're greedy.
And based on your body language and shotty cursive I've been reading:
you're style is quite selective,
though your mind is rather reckless.
Well, I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is.

What a beautiful mess this is. It's like we're picking up trash in dresses.
Well, it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write
kind of turn themselves into knives.
And don't mind my nerves, you could call it fiction
but I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear.
'Cause here we are, here we are.

Although you were biased I love your advise.
Your comebacks, they're quick
and probably have to do with your insecurities.
There's no shame in being crazy,
depending on how you take these
words I'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging.

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say,
kind of turn themselves into blades.
And kind and courteous is a life I've heard
but it's nice to say that we've played in the dirt, oh dear
'Cause here we are, here we are.

And what beautiful mess this is, it's like taking a guess
when the only answer is YES
And through timeless words in priceless pictures
We'll fly like birds not of this earth.
And tides they turn and hearts disfigure,
but that's no concern when we're wounded together.
And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts,
but it's nice today, oh the wait was so worth it.

Plenty of No time

So uni is over for the year, finally, after what seemed like the most depressing, grueling, sloth-ness-enabling time of my life. It was, no joke, like I would describe death on earth...I was merely waiting when I will have to say, "Life, as I know it, is over".

And it wasn't even time-consuming!! Ok, yes, it was, but you would think that while your precious, very short time is being wasted away, like a lover given up, holding her packed meager belongings, her back towards you, finally closing that door behind her....anyway, yes, while time is wasted away you would actually think that something P.R.O.D.U.C.T.I.V.E. is happening! You'd think that for those tiny seconds ticked away while you're doing the most bullshit piece of literary work...a dying kid in Africa is saved. You'd think that wouldn't you?

But no, wasted time is simply just that...wasted. The most productive that it could possibly ever get is when you know that it will all be over soon (hopefully).

So uni is done, and I'm celebrating by, ironically, bumming at home and not doing anything. Hahaha. I make myself laugh sometimes.

Ok, ok, time is precious, as has been reiterated by many a-dying men, so let's keep ourselves busy, shall we?

Duties and Responsibilites

Procrastination makes you do things you wouldn't normally do.

Like blogging, instead of starting your 3,000 word essay due in less than 48 hours.

So this essay I'm doing on the enabling/constraining factors of globalisaton on climate change policies in Australia, made me think about my own views on the environment. All the readings I have done so far about the different attitudes towards climate change, what could happen, what WILL happen....it just started to remind me of the last time I went back to the Philippines, when the "spirit of environmentalism" suddenly stirred and awoke inside of me.

I've always regarded the environment as important, anyway. When I was younger, I wrote this literary article about taking care of our surroundings which was a bit random, having a little girl telling people how to do things; I made sure I always chuck my rubbish in the bin, and not out of the car window; I shook my head in disgust whenever I saw vehicles emitting great, big billows of smoke. But of course, I never really understood it.

Some people have called me a "tree-hugger" because of my new-found stance on the environment, but I see it more of a duty. How did it become so caught up in politics anyway? That somehow keeping the jobs of our citizens is more important than what will happen to them when everything falls apart?

The environment is one of the best ways through which God can communicate with us. Think of Moses and the Burning Tree, the Mustard Seed, The Red Sea and The Garden of Eden; What astronaut wouldn't look at the vast space he explores and think some divine hand did it?; Who haven't looked at a sunrise/sunset and felt blessed to be alive?

Another significant thing is the kind of legacy I leave to my children. Will they still have the opportunity to swim in a sparkling mountain river; or sit under a tree and eat its fruits? I get scared just thinking that they might never be able to see how blue the sky really is, or travel to little paradise islands because it had long been engulfed by the sea.

This is not some extreme belief.

As a human whose life is indebted to my Creator, and whose actions are responsible to the lives He will soon create...

this is my duty.

This is love.

I've got a puppy.

She was kindly named "Tinkerbelle"; kindly because it was done in the most sincerest of all hearts. She's a 3-month-old little one, with the face of a Chihuahua and the body of a Maltese. It does strike you a little odd at first, but she grows into you and you accept her. After all, nobody is perfect.

It is true what they say about dogs. After a long and tiring day, and you just want to go home and sleep, yet you dread coming home because of all the work you still have to do, seeing that curly, tiny tail wagging like tomorrow is only a dream, and you're swarmed with wet puppy kisses, gives you a whole new energy to achieve things.

And when you're not there with her, she's constantly on your mind, asking whether she's crying of hunger, if she's secretly up to mischievous things; Is she peeing on the bed? Is she lonely? Does she miss me? And at the end of it all, you don't care because you just can't wait to see her again.

There's a certain corner in the hearts of all men and women alike that only a wide-eyed, fluffly-pawed puppy could complete.

[To my Belle: Thank you. :)]

A parallel universe?

“Hello there. Fancy seeing you here. Are you by yourself? Have a seat then, I’m just on my break and God, that dickhead is fucking killing me. You remember him right? That pig thinks he could walk all over me, I don’t give a rat’s ass if he’s my boss, if he keeps treating me like shit I will show him what I’m capable of. I am doing karate lovey, if you must know. That incompetent loser would be out of job already if it wasn’t for me anyway. God, look, I’m on my break and I can’t get away from him.

Let’s talk about you.

How has life been treating you lately?

Dearie, nothing is worth that much stress if you ask me. Look, I’ll give you the number of this lovely masseur I go to every time, he just takes all the worries away.

Hahaha! I’ve always loved your naivety. I have absolutely no idea what kind of massage he does, to tell you the truth he’s never given me a massage ever. I’ll tell you this though darling, he could sure use those lovely hands of his quite well. Have I also mentioned he’s French?

Oh that’s right you’re going out with that nice boy, err, whats-his-name, aren’t you? You’ve been with him for quite a while now, God I don’t know how you do it. I’d be bored out of my ass if I were you. Is the sex still good? It always turns sour when I hit the one-month mark. Have you considered having a threesome? Yes, I am being serious, you know I never joke around when it comes to this. Well you know my number anyway, I’d be glad to help you out. Plus I’ve taken quite a liking to your boy. Better hold on to him or I will pounce on him like a horny tiger. I’m joking honey, he’s not my type.

God, you are stressed.

Here’s another masseur, he gives the best massage, you will absolutely forget who you are. Pity he’s not as good in bed. On another note, I have heard this thing about you and some other guy. Honey you are boring as hell but I must admit you have some juicy stories. Do tell hon, you must. So who was it?

You mean that guy with the—?

Who looks as if he hasn’t—?

I do know him, nice guy, but what the fuck were you thinking? Allright, I think I know what your problem is. We’ve all been there, I’ve been there a lot of times, although it probably doesn’t look like it. The reason why I get bored with all those men within four weeks is because most of them do not know what they’re doing. They don’t know how to make me feel like a woman. A little push here, a bit of a grope there, and the idiots think they have mastered it.

Let me tell you something lovey. You think that just because puny blokes like him would do anything for you, tell you you’re the sexiest girl alive, that you have the tightest bum in the whole world, tell you everything your ego wants to hear, make you feel like a woman. Well, they’re only looking for an easy root. Those boys are fuelled by porn-filled fantasies, that somehow, when it comes to sex, all women are like, and should be like those whores they watch when their mothers aren’t looking.

Women like us don’t need them, but unfortunately there’s a bloody lot of them rampaging around. Luckily though, if you’ve got the eye for it like I do, true men are not that hard to find. And lady, I can tell you, you’ve got one of them. They make you act like a woman, think like a woman and become like a woman. And you don’t turn into a sex-goddess because they told you you were one and somehow you have to act like one, but they turn you into a sex-fucking-goddess and you know you are one and you’re loving it. For them it’s not about an easy fuck but they give you what you deserve. They don’t just compliment your perky boobs or your hot legs, he makes you feel good about your eyebrows that have not been plucked for a week beause they make your eyes look more seductive, your crooked smile because it makes you look like a bitch who’s on top of her game and loves how your mascara had smudged all over your face because you were sweating too much while he was banging you from behind.

Darling are you getting all of this?

It reminds me of that time when I was seeing this guy who thought he was the fucking god of love, and yet the only thing remarkably big about him was his ego. God you’re never going to believe this but his “manhood” was the size of a—oh shit I have to run.

Break over, have to serve the pig again, five more hours, need more cigarettes…Lovely chat darling, we should do this again. All the best with your relationship. Keep me up-to-date. I do envy you, I haven’t had a decent bloke for only-God-knows-how-long because of that pig. He is the bane of my existence. Mind you the sex is absolutely fantastic. Bye now.”