My World View?

Something Like a Friendster Bulletin Post

I found this while browsing through a classmate’s blog. I kind of miss answering stuff like this, so…

1. A is for age:
Twenty

2. B is for beer of choice:
Red Horse. But honestly, I’d rather not drink beer.

3. C is for career right now:
Call Center Agent. Do. Not. Flame.

4. D is for your dog’s name?
Tootsie, and her two sons both named Poochie

5. E is for essential item you use everyday
Cellphone, hairbrush, toothbrush, tumbler

6. F is for favorite TV show at the moment.
I don’t have one. I hardly watch TV.

7. G is for favorite game:
Tenchu

8. H is for Home town:
Pampanga

9. I is for instruments you play:
Guitar. I suck at it though.

10. J is for favorite juice:
Orange

11. K is for whose butt you’d like to kick:
Emily Batigas. Grrr.

12. L is for last place you ate:
I have never eaten a place before.

13. M is for marriage:
Who knows?

14. N is for your full name:
Ileana Thialda Lixandroiu. Oh I wish. It’s actually Katrina Mae Santos.

15. O is for overnight hospital stays:
Luckily, never.

16. P is for people you were with today:
Officemates

17. Q is for quote:
"Ur so gay and you don’t even like boys." Haha. Quote ba yun!?

18. R is for Biggest Regret:
Eating too much in the past. Haha!

19. S is for status:
Broke.

20. T is for time you woke up today:
2:56 AM

21. U is for underwear you have on now:
Haha! It’s white and it has brown piping and printed with cute giraffes. XD

22. V is for vegetable you love:
Kangkong! Broccoli and cauliflower and mushrooms! :3

23. W is for worst habit:
Smoking too much.

24. X is for x-rays you’ve had:
Oh. I can’t tell. I think I’ve had too many in my lifetime.

25. Y is for yummy food you ate today:
The embotido from this morning.

26. Z is for zodiac sign:
Pisces

I’m Trying to Write Again

I remember in high school I was one of those kids who thought being a school journalist was cool. I was a feature and literary staff member, then. I became the Literary Editor in my fourth year all because there was no one else to take the place. Anyway, I have always liked writing but I never really considered myself good. I am actually mediocre. It won’t hurt to tell me that, so I guess truth doesn’t always hurt.

I like stories. And I try every now and then to tell a story in prose but I fail majority of the time. This is due to the fact that the stories I try to write about are most common: boy-girl stories, you know? What makes it so hard to write about something as common as unrequited love is the fact such themes have already been overused and the challenge of telling an old story with a new twist is something I have yet to conquer.

I have a story in mind about a girl and a boy. The usual. My favorite. Unrequited love. Very very very common. I’m not really worried about taking on such topics because I haven’t really been through much in life so all I could really tell are tales which I have experienced myself or caught a glimpse of through others’ own experiences.

I have trouble characterizing but it’s one of the things I enjoy most about fiction writing. I’m going to write about a boy who’s overly romantic, and a girl who’s almost a nymphomaniac. Oh well. Good luck. I’m not even sure how to go about writing it.

I have a title though: An Abandonment of Sorts. Yeah right.

Ate Guard Fucked Me

She is a bitch from hell. The ultimate kontra-bida of my office life. Emily Batigas is her name, I recently found out. Fucking bitch. Once I get my hands on a real death note, your name will be the first on it. And trust me, you’ll die a horrible death.

I know cellphones are not allowed in the production area. But I’m not at all in love with the idea of leaving my cellphone in my locker. I wouldn’t dream of leaving valuables in those lockers they provide us. They just aren’t… trustworthy. Those lockers. Yeah, you have to trust not just people, but inanimate things like lockers. And those lockers at the office are just to easy to open. Or maybe I’m just too paranoid.

But anyway, this happened just this morning. I go to work at around three thirty in the morning. So my mom who always worries too much about her most precious daughter wakes up as early as three o’clock just to wake me up with a text message reminding me not to forget to text her the plate number of the cab I’ll be taking. It’s an everyday routine for the both of us. If I fail to text her, she goes, well, a little crazy. My mom is a wee bit paranoid, you know. So there. Honestly, I prefer to just leave my phone in my apartment but that would make my mom go insane. This morning I was running late so I didn’t bother to leave my phone in my locker. Besides, I needed to text my mom and inform her I was safe!

I hid my phone in my bra. That’s how most girls whose boobs can camouflage a small phone do it anyway. Duh. But this morning, Ate Guard from Hell had her beloved metal detector. I don’t know what those things are called. For all we know she might be using that thing to fuck herself that’s why she’s so attached to it. She apparently trusts that thing. Ugh.  So I got off the elevator and went straight to her station. She picked up her thing and started inspecting me with it. The thing went beep beep beep. She asked me what was on my chest. I said, "Bra ko yun, ate". She said, "Tumutunog po eh". So I answered, "Titingnan mo ate!?" Then she said she won’t. But she won’t let me off, so there goes her hand in between the two not-so-small-not-so-big mounds on my chest. Fuck. I’m screwed, I thought. So I left the phone with her. She took my name and my ID number. The next thing I know my phone’s already with HR and I had to give them a written explanation as to why I (almost) brought my phone into the production area. It’s a fucking terminable offense, they say. But I’m only going to get a one day suspension. That was enough to make me cry. I can’t believe a lady guard managed to get me into that much trouble. Bitch ka Ate Guard. Bitch ka.

Fine, so maybe I was in the wrong. But she can just be nice and let it go since it was the first time. Had I really been terminated for it, I would really have her killed. Probably not, but I would hurt her. I’d find a way to have her gangbanged or something. Fuck. No, no, erase that. I wouldn’t have her fucked. She might enjoy it even so it’d be a failure on my end.

I’m planning to keep something in between my boobs again. Something that would seem like a cellphone. I’d have her touch my chest again and then file a complaint for sexual harassment. I’m not kidding. A lot of girls at the office are actually hating her for it, so I’m not alone. That bitch.

Pag ako nagkadeathnote, patay ka sakin. Mamamatay ka sa kati ng kagat ng maliliit na kuto sa pubic hair mo na parang bampira kung sumipsip ng dugo. Mauubusan ka ng dugo. Leche.

Pag hinarang ako ulit ni Emily Batigas mamaya, sasabihin ko sa kanya: Gusto mo ate maghubad ako? Baka may cellphone ako sa puke eh.

No. I won’t say that. As if I could. I honestly wish I could though. 

What I’m Loving Now