living on sample exams

i think i've got a chance at passing tax 1.

two words: sample exam.

how to study half a semester's worth of tax two days before midterms*

start sleeping with your copy of the NIRC. now, this takes a lot of patience, as codal with usually be hard and uncomfortable to sleep with. however, based on the theory of osmosis, this should work. you should however make sure that your copy is covered in plastic. i will not be responsible for the marks that saliva leave on paper.

next, start craving for anything you cannot afford. in my case, it's the nokia 6100. now, in fairness, i've been craving for this phone for the last couple of weeks, but it'll do for now. waste all your free time surfing the net for pictures of the phone, calling globe, smart, and other telecom providers for rates and promos, and walking around the mall looking for the best rate. it helps if whatever's left of your free time is also spent selling your existing phone.

schedule dates. go on a date with your ex, your ex-ex, your best friend, your officemates. it doesn't have to be a romantic date at all. just go out, have fun. mine even includes a massage and a manicure & pedicure service.

have something to look forward too, preferrably a big even happening soon after the exam, like a wedding. don't plan until the last minute, so your mind is preoccupied with thoughts such as "who will pick up my gown?" and "where will i have my make-up done?" and "will my date show up?".

now settle down and start reading the book that you should have read for the first day of class. all 200 pages of it. then start going over the codal. muddle your head with tax rates (7.5% for foreign deposits, 20% for withholding tax, 32% for income tax) and deductions (20,000 for single individuals) and kinds of taxpayers (non-resident citizen, resident alien, non-resident foreign corporation). by now you'd be scratching your head, squinting your eyes, and generally aware of the possibility of failing.

when you're guilty and scared enough. start studying. really studying.

bet you'll pass.

*now i may not know everything but if this works, i've got it copyrighted.

new shoes

sometime during the disaster that pretended to be a three-day weekend, i got a lovely pair of shoes to finally replace my worn out and dirty bowling shoes.

how amazing are they?

they match spike. perfectly. the shoes could've come with spike as an accessory.

they fit very well. imagine your hands being held by your significant other. imagine the warmth that comes from his (or her) fingers. imagine not wanting to let go. that's how they fit.

they were on 50% off.

-oOo-

okay, i admit it. it was the sale price that clinched it for me.

okay, fine, it was cause the sale was good only from 7 to 10 p.m. yup, it was cause there was a freebie that came with every purchase too.

okay, okay. it was cause all of my cousins were buying shoes and i didn't want to be the only one without a pair too.

-oOo-

i'm beginning to think though that the new shoes triggered the disastrous weekend.

see, shoes were bought friday evening. being a girl, i just had to wear them the following day, right? so, never mind that i woke up really late and had to cross from one end of metro manila to the other to make it to class by 9. i had the perfect pair of shoes. what i needed was an outfit.

so i picked a shirt. my favorite white shirt with sparkly cherries. good. except that jeans that went with that shirt was in the laundry. scratch that.

i picked another shirt. nope, i just wore them a week or two ago. to the same class. not good. scratch that too.

when i finally decided on what to wear, i realized i had 45 minutes left (or less. when you're running late you have a tendency to exaggerate the time you've got left.). i made it to class only one hour late. it was ok. someone came in later than me.

but then my afternoon date just had to cancel.

noNOnoNOnoNOnoNOno! my new shoes deserved a date! they deserved to be taken to lunch, paraded around shiny mall floors, and admired by a public who didn't know about the three-hour fifty-off sale!

so see, if you're reading this, that was the reason why i blew my top.

-oOo-

really.

just ask another girl. she'd verify my claim.

you've hit oil already. why are you still drilling?
*title shamelessly stolen from alex and emma

there was so much fear in me so i kept trying to bail out. i guess it would have been more comforting if you were evil or you were hateful. i guess it would be easier if i didn't delude myself into thinking you and i had it good and there was something there that i've never found elsewhere.

I found the pieces in my hand
They were always there
It just took some time for me to understand
You gave me words I just can't say
So if nothing else
I'll just hold on while you drift away

but then i had to be me. i had to be the kid who constantly tugs at your arms to sit up and take notice. i wanted you to like me so bad that one day the real me just came out. and you hated it.

Cause everything you wanted me to hide
Is everything that makes me feel alive

i remember telling you four months. i usually give up after four months. i usually throw my hands up and move on. you told me, okay, it shouldn't be a problem, just so long as it doesn't happen on your birthday. your birthday is two and half months away. i'm still here. you're almost gone

The cities grow the rivers flow
Where you are I'll never know
But I'm still here
If you were right and I was wrong
Why are you the one who's gone
And I'm still here
I'm still here

you'd laugh at the things i do so as not to give in to that urge to bug you. i've deleted your number from my phone book so many times just so i don't go on texting you marathon messages. i've hidden my phone, watched crappy tv shows, even went out to give blood. anything just to quit thinking of you even for one single minute.

and when it all came crashing down on me, i couldn't put myself together. i couldn't be the independent girl you first liked. i couldn't be indifferent. i couldn't just walk away.

You've seen the ashes in my heart
You smile the widest when I cry inside and my insides blow apart
I try to wear another face
Just to make you proud
Just to make you put me in my place

i'm sorry. i'm sorry for bugging you day and night. i'm sorry for long phone calls that don't go anywhere. i'm sorry because i just couldn't relax.

But everything you wanted from me
Is everything that I could never be

had to take the day off to pick up the pieces of what used to be me. i sat in my desk. i slept. i forgot about food and taking a bath and everything else. all that mattered was how i was going to make it out of the door tomorrow a better person. all that mattered was to figure out a way for me to walk out room 117 with a smile, confidence once again intact, and a belief that the world is still a good place to be in

Maybe tonight it's gonna be alright
I will get better
Maybe today it's gonna be okay
I will remember

i know i bugged you again. i turned you off again with the non-stop questions, with me asking "why" and "why not" at every turn. i kept thinking if you would only say "yes" then things would be fine again. i thought that the answers were all in your court. i believed that all i had to do was to make you see it for what they were. but nothing i said made you change your mind.

I held the pieces of my soul
I was shattered
And I wanted you to come and make me whole
Then I saw you yesterday
But you didn't notice
You just walked away

Cause everything you wanted me to hide
Is everything that makes me feel alive

i think i've finally figured it out. sit still. i've hit oil. but i'm still drilling, and i'm driving you nuts.

i don't want you to walk away, although you may very well have already.

The lights go out the bridges burn
Once you go you can't return
But I'm still here
Remember how you used to say
I'd be the one to run away
But I'm still here

for once, i'm not going anywhere.

if you can't recognize the lines in between, they're from vertical horizon's "i'm still here". it's an amazing song.

stalker

what happens when an old friend drops by in the middle of the night so that you wouldn't have to get smashed alone?

your ex, who happens to live a street away, does walk-bys and drive-bys every ten minutes or so. he then calls your cellphone twice. since you don't pick up (yeah nic, i really have a nasty habit about not picking up my cellphone), he calls your landline. not once, not twice, not even three times. four times until you pick up. he then makes a big deal of old friend being at your house. he picks a fight. he demands he sees you. you spend an hour arguing with him. he leaves. he then calls again, talk some more, go out of the house. he then utters all of these cryptic things that have long since ceased to be meaningful since it's almost three in the morning and you've been nursing a nasty headache for the last week or so. he walks away when you can't promise that you can't get mad at him for something that he will be "revealing" to you.

his last hurrah? two messages, one at three to tell you to have a nice life, and another one at 430 accusing you that you're a liar and that you'd have a miserable life forever.

why am i not scared? because, honey, you're not the first one who threatened me with a miserable ever after.

i am scared though that you walk by my house often. i am scared that you've violated my privacy. i am scared that you look into my windows and listen outside my house because you suspect something.

* * *

don't be scary, please. don't stalk, don't threaten. live your life, and i'll live mine. you don't throw ten years of friendship down the drain simply because we didn't work out. you don't question the other person's decision to move on. YOU move on, too.

when it all ends too soon

I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm,...
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

this is normal.
this is what crashing down after a high is like.
this is how sitting at home not being able to sleep, not being able to think, not being able to function feels like.

* * *

the only funny thing about today, i guess, is crying so hard i lost my contacts.

really.

it's sad when you can't finish your thesis even after you've spent an entire day hogging the computer. it's even sadder when you are supposed to be motivated by the promise of a salary increase.

salary increase being the operative word. i mean, how sad is it to be 26 and not be able to pay for your own gas? (no mention of the two unmetionables yet, spoiler).

* * *

i've got two options:

(1) stay in the office and continue the rambling excuse i have for an answer to research problem 1, part 1, ideal number 5. i can stay here until around 830 thereabouts before the guard kicks me out.

(2) go to class, listen to a two-hour lecture on wounds (i think we're done discussing dead people).

at the end of it all is the promise of a csi marathon.

right now, that's the only thing that's keeping me going.

normal

if normal were ....

... showing up at my office to eat lunch at the cafeteria with me;
... surprise hot fudge sundae from mcdonald's;
... eating fishballs in UP;
... waiting for locgov class to finish;
... having awful sisig and awful nachos while gazing at the lights; and
... amazing conversations about boy bands and movie theories,

i'd take normal over extra-duper special any given time.

* * *

four out of the six season 1 dvds + no work and no law school friday + absolute poverty until the next payday = csi marathon the moment i get home tonight.

kit, you better not hide that laptop. i know it's yours and sadly, you're claiming it from me once more (after i had gotten used to its speed and humongous screen) but i have got to watch the dvds tonight. please?

* * *

saturday classes + 2 saturdays without tax + a class full of people who hardly study tax = six hours of tax this weekend.

i've got three hours this saturday and another three on sunday afternoon.

what a way to spend the long weekend, huh?

not only that, tax midterms on the 30th.

* * *

one month without puboff = make-up class the morning of your best friend's wedding.

how screwy is that?

to top it off, i can't cut class cause that'll be the day that she either gives out the take-home midterm exam OR will be the deadline of the midterm exam.

* * *

one month of slacking off thesis work + three lectures on legal foundations + a major checking backlog = bb breathing down my back for a thesis update.

yeah, yeah. five p.m.

as if.

but since i want to go to baguio ...

ok. five p.m. it is.

goodbye medjur. i know i've missed hearing about dead people and mummfication and putrefaction for the last three weeks but baguio takes precedence over two hours worth of non-stop powerpoint presentations in white and blue.

monday afternoon it is. make use of the long weekend, she told me. i still don't know if i'm going to cut medjur though. i am bored and tired and headache-y.

* * *

happyclam's GOT to post poetry on his page.

i'd like to think i inspired the poet in him.

i'd love to post a link except that he has still got to remove his name from the template.

* * *

i promise to study, write, and quit eating junkfood, cake, and ice cream.

i promise not to be difficult.

i promise to answer my mom's email.

i promise to finally clean my room.

i promise to dust my mom's elephants (don't even ask).

i promise to be a nicer sister to my brother.

i'd promise anything right now.

i just want to finally get that thesis out of the way. help.

it wasn't love at first sight.

you were sitting there probably wondering how you'd recognize me cause i failed to reply to your message. you were in a blue shirt and your (allegedly) kick-ass nikes and you threw a big smile my way so i knew it was you. the first line you uttered was totally unique i doubt anyone could use it anytime soon.

"i know this is weird but we may have to go to st. luke's so i can give blood to a pregnant friend."

god forbid that they teach you how to react to a line like that in gmrc (good manners and right conduct).

* * *

i had fun that night, but i always have fun meeting new people. we made another date to see each other the following day, which turned out to be a disaster of sorts cause i kept yawning and ditched you right after the movie.

* * *

i can't figure you out.

you can be sweet, you can be cold.
you can be caring, you can be indifferent.
you can be affectionate, you can be distant.

you accused me last night of playing games with you. you were wrong. you're the one playing me.

---

haven't set foot in csa for a while and i'm quite excited to go back, this time in 3 1/2 inch heels and a peach strapless thing-a-ma-jig which i hope will stay up for the duration of the wedding AND the reception. i had a bad dream last night about it slipping down while i was trying to convince happyclam that he had to allow me to go to my best friend's wedding while there was a full-fledged coup in the makati area. talk about paranoid.

* * *

speaking of csa, nic-- i have found a place where they serve good old garlic steak.

a friend told me about it. i have yet to verify for myself whether it tastes like the real thing. i'm thinking the metal plates have a lot to do with it so it may be disappointing having to eat them off melaware plates.

10 hours and 40 minutes to go until my exam.

darn. and all i've got memorized is the definition of evidence.

rule 128, sec 1. evidence is the ... sanctioned by these rules for ascertaining in a judicial proceeding the truth pertaining to a matter of fact.

wait, i don't even have THAT memorized.

whatever. there is life beyond evidence (i think!).

* * *

i've got new mail!

email me.

* * *

someone's very insecure about his spaghetti.

it was good. i loved every bite i had of it. you promised me you'd make hamburgers too and i was looking forward to that too.

my brother hasn't mentioned anything about it. two things: either he found it so good he consumed all of it and he'd rather tell me in person he ate my spaghetti or that he keeled over and died already.

you take your pick.

but really, your spaghetti was yummy. much better than jollibee spaghetti (which i love), or even pancake house spaghetti (which i love, love), or even ate lolit spaghetti (which i loved the most).

if i had my wish, you'd cook spaghetti for me all the time.

* * *

i am curious. who IS spoiler?

someone who read the old blog commented that i used to write better way back there. must be the angst, he surmised.

great. apparently happiness knocks out some writing skills along the way.

* * *

i wish ...
... that you'd text me "good morning" when you wake up and "good night" before you sleep at night.
... that you'd remember tax is on crummy saturdays and wednesdays are always good nights for impromptu dates cause i get off at 730 and the only subject the day after is medjur.
... that you won't forget that at kfc, what i get is coleslaw, not mashed potatoes and that i don't drink coke at all.

i'm glad ...
... that you've realized the wonders of apricot scrub because of me.
... that you think i don't write awful.
... that you can cook and that you offered to wash the dishes.

in time ...
... we'll see how the other is like when royally pissed and we'd know how to deal with it.
... we'll realize that, yes, we do have a lot of things in common and we shouldn't question that at all anymore.
... you'd get over being jaded and i'd get over being scared and we'd finally relax and enjoy this.

and the world just got smaller

would you believe that the guy who can't take me to the wedding personally knows the guy who will take me to the wedding?

* * *

and that la salle lost again?

yeah, yeah.

a couple of love letters

to my dear driving instructor who yells at me a lot,

you'd be proud to know that i was able to take spike out of the law school parking lot yesterday. as you very well know, my parking skills are as awful as my singing skills so although i can more or less slide him into slots, taking him out is another thing. i prayed like crazy that stupid driver who just left his car in the middle of the parking lot would be well on his way home by the time i finished with medjur but as teacher probably chose to autopsy yet another body, i got to leave law by *happy-happy joy-joy* 6:45 p.m.

i backed out. stopped. went back into slot again at different angle. backed out. gracefully slid out of parking lot. all in all, it took me less than two minutes.

you can applaud now.

a kiss would also be very very welcome.

yours,

spike's unbelievably hot driver

* * *

to my friend who is finally in the same time zone but found it fit to reply to email five days later,

i will try to call as soon as:
1. i am done with spike payments;
2. i am done with saving up for next semester's tuition fee; and
3. i have checked off all ten things in my to buy list.

expect the call sometime 2008.

kisses,

the girl who can spare ten bucks to send you a lovely text later.

* * *

massoudi,

i may disagree with you a lot, but you've taught me so much.
i may diss your teaching sometimes, but you are a better teacher than an officemate in my opinion.
i may slack off work to study for law sometimes (all the time?), but you inspire me to make feed better and better each year.

you are one of the reasons why i continue to stay where i am.

i thank god for that day when ms. dadu shipped me off to eduk. had that not happened, i would never have had the privilege of working with you.

always,

sedgewick

p.s. you have ceased to be the hottest guy on earth, it being two days past your birthday already. johnny depp has regained that throne.

* * *

he/she-who-cooks-my-once-favorite-dessert-but-has-ceased-as-of-9:30p.m.-last-night,

although i was never convinced that better than sex was, well, better than sex, your broken promises has always held me quite captivated. i have neglected thinking of unwanted pounds, non-existent waistlines, and chubby cheeks if only for slice after slice of your sinful creation.

what happened to last night's slice?

you've failed me.

in tears,

girl who will probably finally lose weight.

USG250

white car, no tint. hair gelled to pineapple perfection. powder blue long-sleeved shirt.

can i just tell you that when you slipped on those shades your hotness factor skyrocketed?

should i have scribbled my name and phone number on a sheet of notebook paper and taped it to the window? should i have waved wildly at him the two or so times our cars passed each other? should i have made like that old palm commercial where the girl sends her details via infrared?

so much i could have done, except that there was this guy who thought that reading his broadsheet while driving along edsa was appropriate.

*sigh* i lost possible future father of my children somewhere between the AFP theater and the ortigas flyover.

GNR

admit it, teenagers of the '90s, you all had something for the amazing GNR. (hell, even my mom liked axl rose!)

lovely treat this morning, amidst evil traffic with even more evil female drivers who think their charm will get them that miniscule spot in front of spike, was k-lite's cd archive featuring guns n' roses. *insert wild screaming here*

and so, in the grand tradition of me attributing songs i think people will sing about my relationship with them, the first thing that came to mind as i heard the opening bars of patience *insert more wild screaming here* was that, hey ... that'll be HIS song for me.

but nothing beats my ex-ex's song for me...

(if you by any chance knew him personally, stop reading right here!)

I used to love her
But I had to kill her
I used to love her, Mm, yeah
But I had to kill her
She bitched so much, She drove me nuts
And now I'm happier this way, yeah
Whoa, oh yeah

it was THAT bad.

* * *

lunch with my favorite aunt/godmother, grandmother, brother, and cousins at dad's brings back memories of ten or so years back when we did nothing but, well, pig out at dad's. us kids are in our twenties now, one's married, and everyone's more or less earning his own keep but funny how when the bill comes we all still point to our aunt who has been responsible for feeding us on get-togethers since she earned her diploma from med school.

we're all meeting up again later for coffee or whatever, sans auntie, so our wallets will groan a little, but that's ok. this is major bonding time.

lovely flowers on my desk

it takes little to get people excited around here.

today, all it took was an ex who strolled in with a beautiful bunch of gerberas.

thanks, mars.

aaack!

let's put it this way -- i'm kuripot with food. i do know what i don't mind shelling out my last hundred for though: a bottle of gourmet tuyo (eek, nemo!) or a can of ketchup fries or bee chen hiang's dried minced pork. what i do mind is spending a whole lot of money when all i want to do is to kill that hunger brewing in my tummy. and so i eat caf food, lots of caf food. never mind that there are at least ten good places to eat in across school, or that i can have my fill of oysters and tuna sisig any time i want. unless it's for a cool pair of shoes or a nice bag, my money and i aren't going to part ways any time soon.

so when our school hired them to handle our cafeteria, i hauled my ass over two buildings down where food was cheaper and sisig is part of the menu at least once a week. no way am i going to pay fifty bucks for sinigang that leaves me hungry two hours later. no way am i going to shell out twenty bucks for a can of sprite. and no way am i going to eat a fruit plate that has clearly spent its weekend in the ref.

so imagine my surprise when my favorite dean (or one of his minions) chose them to be the school's caterer. it is UP for goodness' sake. food is supposed to be cheap. food is supposed to be good. food is supposed to be .... well, food is supposed to be not the same food they serve in our caf!!!!

goodbye, college of law caf. we had a wonderful relationship for the first three years of law. maybe it is time i renew my bond with rodic's.

sabotage

as if me bribing a makati cop five hundred bucks on a lazy sunday afternoon wasn't enough, someone had to sabotage my tires at sm megamall.

lazy sunday that i was supposed to spend lounging around in bed, eating leftover bridal shower cake was instead spent in a series of awful misadventures.

misadventure number one consisted of me happily driving along makati avenue opposite the normal flow. what??? it's not two way? i swear there must've been a reason why i never thought of working in makati. this was most likely it. all the times i passed by that road there were cars on the opposite side of the road. how was i to know that they convert it into a one way street in the middle of sunday? stupid me had to freeze inside the car, wait for the cop to see bright red car, and waddle his way over to where i was. stupid.stupid.stupid.

oh, and do not trust magic calling card, because apparently, unless you're someone really important, magic calling card ceases to amaze people these days.

five hundred bucks later -- it was that or lose my license and driving privileges for three months and two thousand bucks -- i finally made it to where i was supposed to be. of all the things i've ever done in my life, it had to be this that impressed him the most. "wow," he said appreciatingly, "you do know what to do. now i know you can take care of yourself."

what the??? men.

* * *

now on to the sabotage part.

parking is hell on weekends, even on the topmost part of megamall's parking area. finally spied a parking spot -- enough for two -- which should have been enough for this silver revo and spike. silver revo got there first so i waited, and waited, and waited...

hell, wait. this guy's about to take my parking spot by parallel parking instead of, well, normal parking i suppose. i kept glaring, and staring, and trying to get myself to stop from giving him the finger in general. first he parked the car nose first, then parallel against the wall, then turned to park back first, then parallel again, until the guard knocked on his window to indicate that unless you were really blind, there was another car obviously waiting to take the spot beside him. the moment he finally settled down, i slid spike right beside him, totally killing whatever chances the person on the passenger seat had of comfortably getting out of the car. (well it wasn't my fault really as i had big pipes on the other side of spike.) i gave the driver an evil glare, which turned more evil when i realized that he was a student where i work.

lunch, ten car shops, a movie, dinner, and a trip to the grocery later, we come back to see a very, very flat tire.

it had to be on the day that i proudly told him i know how to change a flat tire.

* * *

it could be a variety of reasons: rolled on a nail, damaged the tread, dented the rim, yada yada yada.

except that my tires are barely over two months old. and the vulcanizing shop didn't find one hole. not even a tiny one.

and even after driving home, tire stayed up. after being left parked in the garage overnight, tire stayed up.

someone -- and i mostly likely glared long and hard at that someone -- let the air out of my tires.

* * *

circumstantial evidence, yeah, but in this case, all fingers point to you, dude.

* * *

on a happy note, someone just volunteered to grant christmas wish number 2.

thanks, hon.

it's never too early to make a christmas wish list . . .

(1) car tint. nice 3M scotchtint.

(2) someone (read: a person) who will remove white seatcovers (what was i thinking when i got white?), wash them, and put them back again.

(3) coupons for a weekly carwash at your friendly neighborhood caltex.

(4) a cd of my favorite songs, never mind that it'll probably sound stupid if you put backstreet boys' "the call" next to plumb's "real".

(5) a kiss from johnny depp.

* * *

it's sad when you find yourself not being able to go beyond number five.

either that or i am so happy but i am so scared to slip and fall and to have this taken away from me all too soon so i am not blogging about it.

for the love of spike

someone scratched spike.

spike, who i love above all else. spike, my baby. spike, who saw me through some really awful times.

only I can drive spike (well, yeah, HE can drive spike too, but only cause it's HIM).

if i catch you, if i even think that you were responsible for that huge letter K and several squiggly lines all over spike, you wouldn't want to know what i'd do to you.

feeling techie

when you change your blog's template as quick as you change your shoes, there must be a really bad identity crisis going on inside you.

the wedding partner

weddings, i believe, have always been iffy. for one, once you reach your 20s or so, you begin thinking, "when will it be me?" or worse, "will it ever be me?" another thing would have to be the clothes, or the weight you'd have to lose because of the clothes. you never really know sometimes whether you'd be overdressed or underdressed.

an email i received this morning presented yet another problem: a date. i've always thought that since my best friend was on a tight budget, i'd have to go solo. apparently, she can spare a seat for a date. no problem, i thought. i can go with him.

remember what they said about assume? you make an "ass of u and me" ... true. so true.

apparently although he had asked about the wedding countless of times, he can't go with me (on account of clothes). frustrated with the idea of going to a wedding alone, i (so what else is new) complained to vanessa.

rey, being the good dog that he was, happened to overhear the conversation, and volunteered his brother. we all laughed but after we sobered up, vanessa and i almost simultaneously said, "why not?"

text messages were sent, first to test the waters, "so wat r u doing n aug 31?"

next to test the subject, "rosa needs a date for a wedding. u free?"

then to thank the willing victim, "cool."

and lastly to ensure that the victim was indeed willing, "are you sure you don't mind?"

so, on the day when i plan to wear a pretty cool gown and look my damn best, you won't get to see me. he will.

ha!

* * *

of course, others were considered.

the ex: nooo... we broke up because of conversation. weddings are excuses for loooong conversations with good food, so no.

the ex ex: what the?

t.t.: read my lips-- CONVERSATION.

bestest ex: hmmm... except that he might forget.

summer guy: ah, eh, umph, gulp... no?

so that's how we got around to the good dog's brother. the cool brother. the brother who reviews cars for a hobby. the brother who can swim, run, and bike, and win. the brother who can use big words like predilection. the really cool brother.

o its said and done
o im not the only one
how was i to see
the only difference is me
to think that holding steady hands would do just fine
one day youll agree
that you are truer to yourself than
anyone of us will ever be
-soon

so i can't spell

it's ironic how i was totally dissing someone when i can't spell to save my life (believe me my mom tried to do everything to help me out in this department). so to spoiler, thanks for pointing THAT out.

* * *

lovely, lovely weekend

lovely, lovely friday lunch at aysee's with an old friend who just appeared out of nowhere.

lovely, lovely friday night hanging out with a good friend.

lovely, lovely saturday spent with someone. chicken and bacon ravioli tastes better. crappy movies cease to exist. conversations seem magical.

lovely, lovely saturday evening convincing someone to buy an mp3 player, a watch, and a whole lot of stuff when all he wants is to get his car fixed.

lovely, lovely saturday evening catching up with someone who was in town for the weekend.

lovely, lovely saturday evening extended to lovely, lovely sunday morning due to an impromptu overnight.

lovely, lovely lazy sunday morning on the phone with best friend from canada who - thank god - had news that had nothing to do with getting married.

lovely, lovely sunday lunch with a big box of pizza (which had pineapples!) someone sent over the house.

lovely, lovely sunday afternoon with another big box of pizza (which, of course, had pineapples) someone brought to the house.

lovely, lovely sunday evening on the phone with someone just laughing together at the quiet tv screens while sprawled out in our respective beds.

lovely, lovely late sunday night watching csi while trying to arrange a late, late dinner with a friend.

lovely, lovely quiet dencio's.

lovely, lovely can-we-just-talk-a-while-before-we-sleep conversation.

i can't believe it's monday already. what a way to put the lovely, lovely weekend to a halt.

i think i've got all the answers

when you've hit 26 and you've had your fair share of failed relationships, and you've planned your life out with at least one person you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with, and you've made a checklist that isn't hard to meet at all but unique in its own way, and you've seen how the marriages of your aunts, uncles, and own parents fail, and you know who's cheating who and with whom, and you actually know one real divorced person who's having the time of his life . . .

you don't settle. you don't give up on your non-negotiables. you look forward to fifty years from now and know in your heart that someone who agrees with everything you say would never be your it guy.

that's the reason why although i think i'm being stupid for letting that guy go, i'm being very smart for not compromising. because when you're old and ninety and in bed together and the only thing you've got going between you two is conversation, grammar and pronounciation counts. independence of opinion counts. intellectually stimulating conversations count.