Bite-sized Life

After 4 grueling years in high school I'm finally graduating!!
I'm sooo not looking back at high school. It's not worth the trouble. Yesterday was the last day of the schoolyear so people are having their shirts and scrapbooks signed, along with messages and cellphone numbers.
It's utterly pointless.
I think it's a matter of ego-centered, self-importance that people are having everyone sign their shirts coz they think that 100 percent of their class population will miss them when they go to college.
We won't.
If I had the nerve to let anyone sign my shirt, it would be my small but very close circle of friends. Not the whole batch. It should be people who really matter.
Besides, college is a place where you'll widen your social circle and you'll eventually have to forget the people who signed in your shirt or notebook who don't really know you.

Just came from my first date with the Forbidden guy (finally!). For the last three(or four) hours, I was worrying what I look like, running around the house like a madwoman looking for crack or something. I ran up and down, going room to room, looking for stuff and clothes and my fave lip balm. I kept forgetting where I put my cellphone and I was about to go insane.
While I was at it I was asking God to just let me die.
I couldn't postpone the date, that would be utterly heartless. I just gotta take the dive.
It was a good thing I already took a shower. My first dillema was my outfit. I easily put a casual, chic look then some lip balm and blush. Debated whether I should put on make-up. Wait, I hate make-up. I combed my hair to bring it to life.
Since I was having my period, I changed my napkin twice during the whole preparation coz of this worse-case scenario thing in my head. I mean, the last thing I want him to say is, "do you smell blood? Is someone bleeding to death?" Or something. I'm insane!!!
Brushed my teeth more thoroughly. Gave myself a full-mirror body check to see if there might be anything unzipped, sticking out or bulging out in the wrong places.
Hair's got volume.Nose clear. Teeth clean. Pad not visible. Nails spotless. No time for nail polish. Wait, I never use nail polish. But still pissed. Very pissed. Am I seriously going out with him today when he asked that we could have lunch together- this morning???!
Goddamit!!!
I looked for my bag, crammed my stuff and essentials in it, and gave myself a last look in the mirror. I've got zero time to think about what we should talk about. I'll play it by the ear. Crapcrapcrap. I'm nervous.
It's already 12.30pm. It takes 30 minutes to go to the mall and his lunchtime's at 1pm.
While I was waiting for a ride I couldn't help but laugh at my own agitation.
So this is what it feels like getting ready for your first date.
I wanna slap myself silly.

I remembered the Miss Philippines Pageant. There was this particular contestant during the Q&A portion.
The question was- if you won the pageant title as Ms. Philippines, what would you NOT do tomorrow?
The contestant's answer was somewhat pointless and weak. It went something like this: "If I won this pageant, what I would not do tomorrow is to eat because I want to maintain my figure."
Just what the Philippines needs. An anorexic beauty queen. Excellent. But then, a stupid question begets a stupid answer.

I was stuck in our condo, alone with my big bro. Then mom calls, saying she was on her way. Before she hung up, she had one request: the condo better be clean. Uh-oh.
My mom is a total nitpick for cleanliness. I swear she has this obsessive compulsive thing going on. I guess our cleaning prowess will never compare to her. It's like getting a visit from the Board of Health!! We had five hours to do the job.
My bro makes a deal with me. He cleans the whole condo while I take care of the kitchen. It was no big deal really- our condo is quite small. Almost like a singles hotel bedroom except a kitchen and living room managed to squeeze in. Studio type.
Before I conquered the kitchen, I made him get rid of the maggot-infested rice that was 3-days-old. My brother's that disgusting even with an excellent academic record (I have a hinky feeling he's trying to breed flies).
I stare at the pots, plates, and glasses piled on the sink. Oh brother. I am SO not looking forward to living in with my sib. I just suck it up and turn on the tap.
While the dishes were soaked, I waged battle with oil, grease and crumbs from our electric oven/grill. (Would it kill my brother to clean the grill???) I threw out some trash, swept the kitchen floor and wiped the counter. Then there was a funky smell coming from one of my bro's chocolate covered cookies (he used to sell them for a project) and I begged he get rid of the mold- sprinkled snack. Ick. Ick. Ick. How does he put up with all of this chaos???!!
When my mom finally arrived, she sighed with relief. But the relief didn't last long.
She said the floor was sticky and dirty (sticky??).
The toilet apparently needs more scrubbing.
The carpet needs to be aired.
Why do I bother?

Remember the first time we talked to each other just for a few minutes? You told me after that moment that it took you minutes to get the courage to walk up to me, summoning all your guts. I was caught off-guard and it was an awkward time because I didn't know you were around at that afternoon. I was nervous that somebody my mom knows might see us and report to her. And I wished I wasn't so chicken to talk to you. You had a boyish, charming aura that I found impressive. You weren't trying so hard but at the same time you were comfortable in your own skin without being arrogant.
There was a time I was eating at the fast food restaurant (with the glass windows) and I was with my mom and her friend. While I was chewing on a sandwich, you passed by the window! (I nearly choked but no one noticed.) You didn't see me because you were busy sending a message to my cellphone.
And I couldn't forget the time when I saw you going back to work. I couldn't let you get away without seeing me first. Since I knew I couldn't reach you in time, instead, I was yards away behind you, I called you on your cellphone. I'll never forget seeing you staring at your cellphone in disbelief until you finally answered it with curiousity:
"Hello?"
"Turn around." was the first thing I said. (I can't be bothered to say hello somehow.)
"What?"
"Just turn around."
Turn around you did so. When you spotted me, you had the most priceless, delighted smile and at the same time you were speechless.
I told him this was payback for catching me off-guard the last time.
He said he's get back at me someday. How romantic.

I swear you were the guy of my dreams, but I had no idea what made me think that. I just knew. Everytime I'd see you, I get completely nervous. Then, when we finally started texting each other, it was amusing to discover that your friends were always on the lookout for me. It was a mutual understanding between us but I honestly have no idea what would happen to our relationship. It was next to impossible- you were six years my senior and you were someone people in my social circle would frown upon.
But for some reason I didn't care. Neither did you.
You completely understood why I couldn't date or why we couldn't be seen together. We shared a wide perspective in life which I couldn't see in other guys which made you completely unique. And it's why I admired you more.
When my mom found out about our little communication, she disapproved of it and demanded I shouldn't entertain "boys like him." Being an obedient daughter, I stopped.
You had no idea how excruciating it was to suddenly stop talking to you for 2 months. For the whole 2 months, you still kept texting and even calling (which I never answered).
Finally, i couldn't stand it any longer. I decided we just had to keep our communication to each other a secret.
And I promised to myself I wouldn't leave you hanging like that again.
And it was worth it.

Our story seems to come straight from a soap opera: two people from two completely different worlds who find each other in the most unexpected way at an unexpected time. We were different in almost any way imaginable.
I still remember the time I first saw you- it was crush at first sight, frankly. You had the most mesmerizing eyes, your hair was tousled the right way, your nose is quite haughty and you have the most gorgeous smile. After a few minutes, I realized I was holding my breath. It was just physical attraction that attracted me to you- at first, anyway. I was just contented to look at you at a safe distance, being a shy person that I am. It was ok if you didn't acknowledge my existence.
I always hoped to see you every week. Then one day, you kept glancing at me. I thought it was just my imagination. But after a few weeks, it was loud and clear we had an eye for each other.
Everytime I'd come by, your friends would get really loud, mercilessly teasing you though you didn't mind, and you just kept glancing at me with that secretive kind of smile. And if you weren't there, one of your friends would suddenly disappear somewhere, then come back with you! It's good you have such wacky and caring friends.
Then, there was the time you had one of your friends deliver your cellphone number to me because you were- to my surprise- shy. Along with your number was a note asking if we could get to know each other and be friends. I had a feeling we could be more than that, though I wasn't really expecting it.
And that was when we got to know each other.

Oooookaaaay... I still can't believe what Britney did with her hair...um, Britney, if this is some kind of aftermath with your divorce (or K-Fed), please get back in rehab. That little stint of yours won't do your career any good. At all. Don't spiral down like Michael Jackson. Please.

Simon Cowell isn't mean. He simply knows how extremely difficult it is to make it in the music industry. "American Idol" is an open-door opportunity to anyone and it's part of his job to weed out the tuneless, tone-deaf, disillusional wannabes among the really aspiring singers with that so-called X-factor.
Imagine if Simon has gone sugary soft like Paula Abdul, there'll be mutiny in the show. When someone auditions, they have to sound not OK, but fantastic. If Simon weren't in the show, Paula and Randy would've lead American Idol to its inevitable death.
For me, Paula's just too patronizingly sweet, it makes me nauseous. She can't keep giving out false hopes to people who obviously think they stand out when they obviously weird the pants out of the audience.
And Randy... well, I prefer Randy to Paula, though I think it's pretty cool he's a buffer between Paula and Simon. He's like this black Buddha, always smiling. All we need to do now is make him do the lotus position.

I've got odd habits. I know (and hope)I'm not the only one.
1. I make toast with butter and honey- in the evening
2. My bedroom door has to remain shut. It ticks me off when it's open.
3. I don't lick ice cream. I bite it through it most of the time.(no brain freeze for some reason)
4.When I take a shower, there has to be music while I'm at it.
5. When I buy yogurt, it has to be either strawberry or berry mix and non-fat. No other flavors are tolerated.