i'm back. arrived in a blaze of glory.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

as camille would have put it, rather nicely, i might add "[i] am tired of blogging."

yeah. me too. nothing exciting happens in my life anyway. if i were to recount everything, my readers won't be readers anymore but sleepers. or skippers. moving on to next blog!

but for some reason, i am gifted with words ~~and looks~~ and i adore writing. so let me tweak my daily activities, to a hilarious story, shall we? :)

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FRIDAY:

at night, i decided to try out the New Orleans food recipe, Fish Creole (i am not sure how it is spelt)

seabass chunks with tomato sauce, celery, and green pepper. my dad taught me to scale a fish. so i was gripping this huge slimey grey reeking body, sightless fish eyes staring into mine.

ew. and to think my mom loves to bite the fish's eye off when its fried. no kidding.

anyway, i'm not a squeamish girl (except to cockroaches. i scream and can make your eardrums pop) so i did the dirty fish business and cooked the vegetables in a wok.

the result? i think it tasted fab. *bows down to imaginary standing ovation*

SATURDAY:

after guitar class, i desperately needed to get my hands on some killer-acne products.

I HAVE A CLASS GATHERING ON WEDNESDAY AND I HAVE 4 BLOODY BIG PIMPLES TO GET RID OFF!!

a mammoth task. it calls for something big.

like magic.

but it doesn't exist. so the next best thing would be nexcare acne clear stickers and OXY cream.

i was walking right towards the escalator going down when i bumped onto...him.

no, not the tall dark and handsome guy in the bus. another one of my ex-crushes. he'a fair and robust. and god, did he work out??!!

he had his phone glued to his ear, chatting animatedly, and faltered when i nearly crashed onto him. we stood there, looking at each other. i had a cool greeting ready, at the tip of my tongue, but the words just died there and then.

many people claim that, before one dies, they see their life flash right before your eyes. well, you don't actually have to be dying to see the past whizz in front of you. i was staring into his eyes, and all the painful memories conjured up. and all i thought was "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

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he took my hand. "pauline, i really really like you." his stroked the sensitive flesh between my fingers. "you make me feel great; i'm so happy- no girl has ever done that." he continued to stare ahead, pouring out his soul. his honesty stung.

shit. what have i done? i didn't do anything. or maybe i did. that's why. i was so very good at this game right?

i squirmed. "maybe you're not thinking...you know, i-"

he looked at me curiously. "sorry, this would hurt," i thought.

"we can't be together because i'm not good for you."

he frowned. "maybe you're the best for me."

hell, not working!! i tried another excuse.

"no, i feel we don't suit. we don't share the same interests and-"

"must two people be truly the same to be together?" he shot back.

of course not. but i don't want to be with you. not anymore. together? what was that supposed to mean? to be bonded to you? that will kill my spirit. no, i can't lay all my happiness solely in a boy. where does that road lead? anguish. pain. heartbreaks. disappointment.

"we're not compatible. and do you know? i break hearts. all the time," i gave a bitter laugh. because it was true. all true. but the real reason behind it- i didn't say.

"i will break you, hurt you, and bring you pain. you should stay away from me," i resisted to add, "stubborn ass"- an endearment of some sorts.

then reality spun back in place.

i could see the hurt in his eyes. the anguish. he was guarded. wary. he opened his mouth to say something but i didn't permit him to. i fled down the escalator and wound around the levels, trying to ditch him. coward. my sister struggled to keep up with me.

"i saw-"

"yes, it's him," i replied grimly. dang, of all times...

SUNDAY:

i went for my guitar class. not again, but it was accoustic this time. (saturday was classical). we learnt to play "Love will keep us alive" by Eagles. my dad's a fan, by the way.

since we would be migating, my mother took it upon herself to clear all the old books and photo albums in the dining cabinets. i threw away old magazines and chinese guidebooks (gleefully). my mother and i flipped through pictures, mostly yellow with age and let ourselves be transported back in time.

there was me in jeans, cuddling my 3 year old brother. my sister in her purple ballerina tutu. my dad and mom, newly weds, sprawled on the forest floor. it was autumn in America, and the leaves were a lovely shade of golden and orange.

my cousin with his big belly, too-tight bermudas and goggles. we went swimming at a resort in Cebu.

me wearing an adorable denim jumper, prancing with my kindergarten teacher.

my dad, youthful, with his guitar.

my mom, in her teens, clutching her pet dog.

my sister's 11th birthday.

time does fly. i'm nearly an adult now (ok, not yet) and soon enough i'll follow in my parents footsteps (no, i don't wish to be an engineer actually)

would i also be flipping photographs with my future son or daughter, reminiscing? maybe i'll tell stories. "i had a crush on that boy." or, "see look, Auntie Camille and her frizzy mane." haha!

Stuffs I painted @ 5:08 PM