July 28, 2002

I HAVE seen the light.

Now I know why I’ve been acting up the past days – I’m about to get my period.

That explains the crankiness, gloominess, touchiness, morbidity, extreme emotions, horrifyingly huge appetite, desire to be alone, laziness and sore breasts.

My worst case of PMS ever.

(If you’re one of those cocky males who think PMS is just an excuse women invented so we can act up every month, take a look at this. Now aren’t you glad to have a dick hanging between your legs?)


***

PROBLEM one solved. On to problem two. With my period due in a couple of days, I have to face the horrors of my dwindling extra-strength kick-ass Advil supply. I’d be a vegetable without my capsules.

Patay.

***

HORRIBLE mood currently at a standstill as the past two days have been busy.

Saturday. Went to class, then went around the university taking photographs for our Photo Journalism class. Knelt down on concrete, sat down on the muddy field, sprawled on a sidewalk while my friends laughed at my spread legs just to take photos from my desired angles. Went home with legs and skirt streaked with dirt – all for nothing. The shutter speed dial of the camera Ruthie and I were using got stuck. Film had to be rewound in one of the several attempts to fix it resulting in an hour or so wasted. Sigh. After the failed attempt at photography, went home, rushed to get ready for Kat-Kat’s birthday dinner. Fifi, Chri and I were late because they were waiting for me. (Sorry.) Enjoyed an ultra-long dinner at CPK and then spent three hours at Time Zone were we hogged the Percussion Freaks Machine. Got home almost three a.m., too tired to do anything but get ready for bed and sleep.

Sunday. Issue-planning session/pizza party (hehe) and then work.

Horrible mood will most probably remain suspended as the next two days will be busy as well.

Monday. Have to go to school early to take pictures (hope I don’t screw up this time) for Photo Journalism before dashing off to work to close this week’s issue.

Tuesday. Early meeting at the office of the TV station re job offer. Then have to go to class after.

Keeping busy is good as it takes mind off one's eccentricities. But will horrible mood attack again? We’ll find out on Wednesday.

***

HAD a difficult time deciding what to have for dinner. Couldn't choose between Don Henrico's and California Pizza Kitchen.

After long grueling minutes, I went for the healthier choice. Am now waiting for my BBQ Chicken Chopped Salad (minus the chicken, of course) and Tomato Basil Spaghettini from CPK. Yippee!


***

DINNER was excellent. Asked officemates to try what I ordered. Got great feedback except for one who happened to be allergic to vegetables. Now he’s all red and sneezing. Uh oh.

***

PEOPLE seem to have been extra-randy the past few days.

Searches that led people to my blog in the last forty-eight hours:

embarrass+socks+tits+toes+torture

nude+pam+in+high+heels

hymen+pictures+free

ballet+dancer+fetish

hymen+pictures

sex+nude+giles+4+to+14+years

joey+yung+newest+model+pictures

fur+burger+a+side+order+of+thighs+two+milkshakes+to+go


Giles, ikaw ha.


***

IN a world where thoughtlessly hurled insults are a constant, even an adjective as simple as "interesting" is enough to make one feel grand.

Thank you so much, Azuki.

***

AN EX texted tonight: "Someone asked me once if I still love you. I just raised my middle finger, shouted "BULLSHIT!" with all my might and pointed my finger at him. Then I simply walked away and whispered, "Pucha, sobra."

I do not know if he wrote this himself or if it's one of those random forwarded messages.

What did he want to achieve?

Should I have been impressed with the words that had been thrown together? Did he expect me to quickly reply so we could spend the night exchanging SMS about our screwed-up past? The thought did not even enter my mind. Instead I swallowed my disgust and deleted the message.

Note to exes: when we're done, we're done. I have not remained friends with any of you. I do not see myself getting back together with any of you. Digest that.

And while you're at it, try to refrain from doing anything that will further lower you in my hierarchy of clods.

You had me. You screwed up - big time. Move on to the next bitch.