Ba Be Bi Bo Bu

I am going to be faced with another tough thirty minutes (if I’m lucky) of my life later tonight. Tough meaning…? Meaning this: Teaching my five year-old nephew to read. I have the suspicion he’s hyperactive but I’m keeping my mouth shut about it, lest I want to incite chaos in our household. Trying to hold his focus is like pulling out a tooth with a thread and a doorknob. Only the tooth is, like, a bazillion times cuter. How hard could it be to teach a five year-old how to read? You might ask me that. Let me give you a few instances on how hard it was:

01. I told him “F” sounds like “fa.” I drilled it into his head, saying “fa fa fa fa fa!” countless times. When I ran out of breath, he looked at me with those sweet, wide dark eyes and said, “Like fart?” And then he made a farting sound with his lips against his arm. That kid, he’s going to kill me, I swear.

02. I pointed to him H. I said, “This is letter H, okay? H as in ‘ha’!” To which he promptly replied, “Ho ho ho! Like Santa Clause?” And then he proceeded to sing, “Jingle bells, jingle bells…” He didn’t give me any time to cut him off until he finished the song.

I’m ready to quarantine both of us in a cave, where the walls would be painted with alphabets. And if he still prefers to pick imaginary dirt on his nails, I would haul him off to the mountains, find a waterfall and toss him there. While he’s falling, I’m going to yell, “You’re falling! Faaalling. F-f-f-falling. What letter is that and what sound?” Maybe that will get through to him.

Say, does anyone here know a site which gives out a free Conor Oberst layout? Or even just layout graphics? I could just code it myself. Please, leave a comment if you know someone. Thanks right now, sent to the future! =)

P.S. I would like to thank Jen for her comment regarding my poem. That’s one of the nicest, nicest things anyone ever said to me, online and offline. Thank you, Jen! *gives you a gum*

Oh So Emo

This was me minutes and minutes ago: I’m sitting all alone in my cousin’s worse-for-wear yellow jeep with a can of Coke Light beside me. Nothing. Just wasting ass space, really. So I walk back to the house moments later after realizing that staring at the stars is far from romantic and that it hurts my neck like hell instead. Inside I go, and I meet my cousin’s husband along the way. He asked me if our water tank was making some noises (which means it’s finally working). I rather shouted “No!” Not because I hated his guts. More of the need that I had to speak loudly due to the thoughts whirlpooling in my head. They topple one another in such a loud, crowded mess. I needed to usurp them. Thus, the reply I gave, which made it seemed like I had earphones stuck in my ears and couldn’t hear the end of the world coming even if my life depended on it.

Well, Happy Valentine’s Day to you, whoever is reading this! =)

There. See? I’m not bitter. My parents are even more disappointed than I am that I still don’t have a boyfriend. Sorry, folks. The fruit of your loins just isn’t mainstream enough to catch a bastard who would show up at home and during family whatcrap.

P.S. I give up. There is just no decent free website with free PHP and MySQL. I just need to pool some cash and buy one. Or be a livewire and beg (bug) my parents until their only option is to buy me one. I got a couple of layouts stashed but none I want to use at the moment. I want to make a Conor Oberst layout but… *sob* The computer’s still dead. Stupid rat. Oh stupid rat. If you’re wondering why I’m blaming the rat, that’s a story I’d have to save for later. I think I’d chalk it up as the kind of story you tell you grandkids. That is if I ever marry.

Holy s**t! They butchered the Conor picture!!

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Something To Do On the 14th

Last night MTV showed “40 Most Awesomely Bad Love Songs…Ever” and it was done with such wit that I stalled my night bath for about half an hour. I learned today that there is going to be a re-run of that on Feb. 14. *yay!* And because I doubt I am most likely to get asked out for Valentine’s Day, I marked that show on my calendar. And I’m thinking of having a DVD marathon as well. I should stack up on chips and drinks, too. *makes a note on that* And unless that hot neighbor of mine shows up on my doorstep with boxes of chocolates and asks me out, then there’s no way anyone could put me out of my couch potato mode that day. If it’s not that hot neighbor, then Conor Oberst. What? Stranger things had happened in my quirky life.

Because I Didn’t Feel Like Giving In To A Bad Mood

I’ll speak in monotone and you
Will clap your hands just to
Ease the gray.
The cigarette stick in your hands
Never looked so poetic
It’s just like that time when
The mid-afternoon sunlight hit
The rushing river and breathtaking rocks
The view I have of you is silken
I feel like stealing you away
And am I not stealing time
Just staring at you?

I will speak in barely a whisper
And you will cock your head just to
Catch half of my confabulation
Oh, what a stellar act to this dreary night
Your smile doesn’t soothe your face
And that’s all right; you look perfect anyway.

You shake your head and wring your hands
And I keep my thoughts to myself this time.
We walk away with amplifiers
And a thousand unsaid things.

["A Thousand Unsaid Things"]
* This was written by me. Don’t steal. Although, gosh. I don’t know why anyone would be retarded enough to do that. I mean, I’m a nobody, after all. Anyway, just don’t steal my crap.

The Casting Agent

Me and my sister were about to fall asleep when I asked her, “If ‘Neverwhere’ is going to be made into a movie, who do you think would the cast be?” And that started our musings on who will play who. If you’re unfamiliar with Neil Gaiman’s novel “Neverwhere”, please search Google right now, because I swear — [pauses to ease the crunchy muscles on the neck] — I swear that if I start talking about it, I’ll never stop and you might fall into a coma, at the worst. And that’ll be my fault.

So anyway. Back to the cast me and my sister came up with:

Door – that girl who starred opposite Heath Ledger in “A Knight’s Tale”
Richard Mayhew – that Sid Arthur guy in “Mean Girls”; guy who played opposite Piper Perabo in “Coyote Ugly”
Marquis de Carabas – Antonio Banderas [hands down. amen.]
Hunter – Salma Hayek
Angel Islington – Gwyneth Paltrow
Croup – Colin Pharrell
Vandemar – Hugh Jackman

For the last two, it doesn’t hurt to have good-looking villains. A good come-on for the film. Hehe.

Gawd! Someone give me my own website now! [Sends telepathic message to mom.]

The Bathroom From Hell

“You die!”

Those are the two words I screamed from the bathroom. I was screaming at the damn toilet bowl. It seriously has issues. One: It leaks. Two: The toilet seat moves around. Even if you try to keep still during a ten-second peeing, it freaking moves! Gawd, I hate that bathroom. Why do guys’s bathrooms always suck? I was going for a shower but found out the water wasn’t running. So I had to get out of the shower stall naked without that clean, fresh feeling. My sister used the bathroom a couple of minutes after I went inside. When she got out, I told her she couldn’t take a shower because the water supply is nil. She told me the faucet was working fine. Water supply was pretty all-out. Well, shit. It’s the bathroom conspiracy against me.

A Stellar Moment Back at Third Grade

I just finished with my marathon of “Princess Hours” and one particular scene brought back a memory that I have obviously buried deeply at the back of my mind because it was too traumatic and horrifying and embarrassing. But now that I’m twenty-four, I could afford to rehash it and laugh my ass off over it.

It was during thrid grade. Even when I was a child, I always had my head in the clouds. Read: My focus is poor. So naturally, I had mistaken P.E. day. I wore my P.E. shorts underneath my jumpskirt (school uniform) without my mom knowing about it. you see, ma was adamantly against me wearing shorts underneath my uniform. We even got into a heated argument about it. Every one of my classmate wore shorts underneath their uniforms, why can’t I? She said it was not proper and it would be in lousy taste if I did that. So I snuck out on her that one P.E. day, only to arrive in school and realize that it was not P.E. day. It was my first time to wear shorts underneath and I hadn’t counted on it being uncomfortable. So while my Science teacher was lecturing about something I couldn’t remember, I was slowly taking off my now uncomfortable shorts. I was in the front row, right smack in the middle as well. I thought I was being stealth. My shorts were already down my legs when my teacher caught sight of me fidgeting, with my arms hidden behind my desk, basically disappearing. She must’ve sensed something was going on. She immediately cut off whatever she was talking about and, almost barking, asked me what I was doing. I was mortified and could not speak or move for a few seconds. Then I hastily replied I was taking off my shorts. I got into a little bit of trouble after that. sigh First time to wear shorts underneath and I get into trouble. What rotten luck.

The Day of Leaving One’s Brain Up In One’s Ass, Another of Internet Whoring

When my brother told me [bleep!] was having a baby, “Ouch!” was simultaneous with “He’s going to have a baby girl. Blond.” That was what? A year ago?

Four days ago: I was contented with reconnectiing with the internet whore in me when my brother called my attention to show me photos of [bleep!] holding his baby. Wow. My brother must’ve really left his brain up in his ass, where he can’t reach for it. Showing me those photos was about as useful as getting chewed alive by piranhas. Oh, well. Shrug and go on with the show. O-bla-di, o-bla-da, this is life. It was almost creepy, how correct I was that [bleep!] did have a baby girl. Was it blond? I didn’t notice. (Wait. Do piranhas even chew?)

On with the show: Three days ago: Still indulging the internet whore in me, this time by uploading photos in my Friendster account. There’s thirty-four now. *tap dances… Like I kno how!* Sixteen more to go. Oh, yeah. This Tony guy I met online asked me if I’d like to live in Australia, where he resides, and if I was looking for marriage. Why oh why do guys ask me fall-over-your-seat-in-shock questions only online? But sure, Australia would be a nice place to live in. I told you I could be easily bribed. Ha!

Backasswards

Shit. I’m twenty-four and I’m still sucking off on my parents. Worse still, I actually enjoy not doing anything. I know my excuse is that the one thing that managed to put a stunt in my future was never my fault. But shit, I could’ve done something to alleviate it. And it’s not that I didn’t try. I worked for six months. But the call center job was too much for me. I dreamed of a des of my own, with pictures and visual ideas tacked on a bulletin board behind me. I wanted to write articles witty articles, eye-opening articles, touching articles. I wanted to have Kate Hudson’s job in “How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days.” Or Jennifer Garner’s in “Thirteen Going On Thirty.” But things happened. Things out of control.

But then that’s no excuse. I really should try to grow up, make it my New Year’s resolution.

Seven

There’s a lot to be said when you go back to a place you haven’t been in after seven years. Me and my family (minus my older brother, plus our housekeeper) finally went back to Baguio after said number of years. While our car was going up the winding road (we call it “zigzag”), I found myself sniffing the air every five seconds. And when we finally neared the city proper, I couldn’t help it. I had to let out a whoop. I just had to or… or… Let’s just say I had to and leave it at that.

The hotel rooms we got are all right. There was that imagined fright while I was taking a shower. Every time I take a shower or sleep in a place that’s not my own, scary thoughts cram inside my head. For instance, while shampooing earlier I imagined that someone was just outside the shower door. That when I open it, I’ll be seeing a white lady. Or worse, a black lady. Then while I was trying to get some nap, I imagined some silhouette was there by the doorway. [I ended up leaving the light there turned on, even though my mother was, say, about two or three feet away from me.] I’m mad. I scare myself and that’s the only time I get scared. I got glimpses of those beings before but I get more scared when I scare myself. What a lunatic I am. How gorgeous is that?

I remember Stephen King saying something about hotels. How you never know what went on in the room you’re occupying. Once before, in that same room, a man could have been holding the Bible while contemplating hanging himself in the closet. Something like that.