{ rants, raves, and everything in between }

December 13, 2010

stickied: a thread of thought from the blog owner..

I post for varied reasons: primarily to vent out steam.

Some posts are kept private, for the owner's eyes only.

Some posts are limited to friends, who truly understand.

Some posts are for everyone, so feel free to browse and comment.

ENJOY!

Written by attribbidda at 06:52 PM.

should I culture this?

January 25, 2012

RATED R

...and another one, R, comes along.

Well, let's go make this loooong story short.

R sends me a very straight-to-the-point line thru myspace: "Miss, pwede makuha number mo?"

I reply: "Send me yours first." (To make sure he won't attempt giving me false digits).

R sends His digits a few hours ago. So I give him mine in return. He texts me the following day.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

So here's a little BG on this new... friend (?!).

for starters: He's much more mature than I am. (*gasp*)
He's from the City of Strawberries.
He's a teacher by profession, currently taking up his Master's Degree at St. Louis' University.
He's the middle child too, in a brood of three.
He's a lefty! (like mwuah.)
His birthday falls on the same day as my soul-sistah G.

So why am I posting this?

Well, we saw each other kasi recently (yesterday, the 24th). He came to Manila primarily to send his Mom to the airport (She went to Hawaii kasi), and for a vacay until *I forgot when*, and well, He's here, and I'm here too, so we might as well, meet.

We agreed to meet at the place I frequent, one I consider my stress-remover place. I wore a white shirt, the one with a crochet part on the shoulders, denims, dangling pearl earrings, wine-colored wedges and also splashed some designer perfume. He wore a dark colored shirt with yellow stripes, jeans and navy blue sneakers and was (I think) in his best attitude to please (just as I was): He was throwing jokes and making me do kwento about myself (booooo Me!).

So there.

I arrived first, so I was able to purchase more SMASHED polish (maisingit lang eh, no?). I texted him to inform when he arrives. And after a few minutes, he did come. He told me where he was (he was unfamiliar with the place kasi so I told him I'll find him na lang), giving me the advantage of seeing him first. So, impressions. Well, for one, He's not as dark-skinned as he appears in his photos. Two, he's makinis (really). And three, he's mabango. (tsss... Here we go again) And fourth, well, napaka-gentleman nya (ayiiiiii landi ko lang). So there goes the lait (or not?!) portion to this tale.

Well, not really.

Perhaps, it was the way he offered his arm for me to hold on to while we were going up the floors, and while we were walking, the way he politely asked me where I wanted to eat (which is really, a big BOO for me, since I'm a KSKA [kahit saan, kahit ano] girl), how he politely positioned the chair and waited for me to be seated first before sitting down, how he instinctively grabbed my hand so he could be the one to remove that stubborn bit of cheese and mayo on my lips, how he placed that slice of pizza on my plate, how he asked that he be the one to carry my purse for me (aaaaaaw dito pa lang panalo na!), how he wasn't ashamed to touch my hand and kiss it repeatedly (in public!), how he asked me to look into his eyes as he told me how "beautiful" I was, and pleaded that I believe him, because he was telling the 'truth'.

gheeeeeesh. I wish this feeling would not end.

I've never felt *this* special. Ever.

{ music } Better than I Know Myself ~ Adam Lambert

Written by attribbidda at 11:45 PM. Filed under seriously..., inked.

5 had pathologic growths

January 21, 2012

when you look into the mirror, who/what do you see?

For ages, the issue of how one looks at oneself is something that has been drifting in and out of my subconscious. I look at most girls my age, and well, most of them (in my opinion) have come out of their quaint little shells: some have already gone out on their own (in another country, for work), some have gotten married, some have been (and still is) in a steady relationship, some have matured into gorgeous young women, poised and confident to face life's curveballs. On most days, I have always looked at myself as someone whose imperfections add up to a perfect package, while on some days, well, I'd rather not talk about it.

But in spite of my personal views about myself, I can't help but get affected whenever people (especially those I have a high regard for) throw rude or unwelcomed comments about me: about the way I dress, my choice of words, how I do my hair, the shade of gloss I use, the polish on my nails, my fave wedge shoes, my continuing battle with weight loss/maintenance (which makes me wonder: don't they ever have a life that they find it absolutely necessary to meddle with mine? lols).

As hard as I try to just shrug it all off, sometimes, I still find myself doubting whether what people say about me is much more true than what I think of myself. I guess what they say about walls and foundations is true: you can build high and mighty walls to surround you and keep people out, but no matter how 'high' and 'strong' those walls are, if your foundations are weak, it is nothing, because people will always place their targets at your weakest points.

Which brings me then to this train of thought: that maybe, just maybe, I am just another plain Jane too-dolled up for the proverbial barrio ball. That maybe, I am not as pretty or as fabulous as I assume myself to be. That maybe, just maybe, the things that I do (shhh...) are just things... to assure myself that I am a likeable human being, capable of triggering emotions to other people. That maybe, that moderately made-up face I look at the mirror each and every single day is the image I have long wanted to become: someone poised and truly confident about herself.

So, am I?

gheeeeesh.

I need a hug.

*sigh*

{ music } I Melt ~ The Rascal Flatts
{ mood } *tired much*

Written by attribbidda at 06:04 PM. Filed under brain farts :), seriously..., inked.

2 had pathologic growths

January 17, 2012

in a state of bliss...

I've really got to stop over-analyzing everything. Basta, happy ako.