nothing makes you feel more stupid than receiving a text message that tells you that all you needed to do to revive your dead laptop is to jiggle the battery a bit.

that's the short version. here's the longer version:

my pre-Ben laptop refused to be roused from sleep one monday morning. i tried out all the suggestions everyone had: leave it plugged on, jiggle the cord, etc. the power button simply refused to work. after trying to turn it on every single morning for a week, i gave it up for good and began calling laptop repair shops asking if they can fix it.

apparently most repair shops give up a dying laptop for good. since that laptop contained a whole lot of pictures, a decision yet to be promulgated, and a whole lot of things i hadn't had a chance to back up, i wasn't ready to give up on it. so i pulled some strings and asked a friend who headed techsupport in her office to have someone look at it.

ten minutes after i left it with her, i receive a text message basically telling me that after they jiggled the battery a bit, the pc was ok.

i hit the pc, i kissed it, i talked to it, i bitch slapped it. i did everything, except jiggle the battery.

now if that doesn't make me look dumb, i don't know what else will.

nothing cheers you up faster and makes you forego dinner without any qualms than a crush who utters the most amazing line known to womankind,

"rosa, you're losing weight."

things i want to say to my ex when he calls but don't have the balls guts to do so

1. please don't call me if you're not getting back together with me.
2. if you weren't my friend when i was going through a major crisis in my life, what makes you think i want to be your friend now.
3. no, i don't envision having sex with you (no matter how positively hott you are in my memory).
4. why do you call me at least once a week?
5. i don't give a flying fuck if you're flying to taipei today, that you'd be in clark until friday afternoon, that you're busy the entire weekend, and that you won't be able to call me until after my birthday.

but, hell, the fact that i remember every single thing he told me when he called again last night and am ranting about it right now just proves one thing:

AFFECTED!

moving on ...

it's my birthday soon (and ara's birthday tomorrow. go throw some love and alcohol her way) and i've only got two things on my tangible list:

1. a cordless phone; and
2. a cd of orange and lemons.

on the other hand, my non-tangible list is definitely longer and i don't think i have enough credits in my pre-paid internet card to type it all out.

this year's birthday will be so like the birthdays of year past (age 24: chicken pox; age 25: break-up; age 26: disastrous birthday party; age 27: gym outfit pretending to be a birthday gift; age 28: boyfriend basically forgot it was my birthday): probably disastrous, especially since my family is away. but my birthday will also be different: i'm single for the first time in years. i don't know what next thursday has got in store for me but i do know that i am going to work, bringing food to feed people at work, and will most likely spend dinner with my aunt. i am however keeping my fingers crossed that one of my best buds get the go sign to bring me with him to their team building thing over at quezon where i'll have a weekend that promises me enough beer to make me forget that i am turning 29 and that the bar results are due out soon.

speaking of the bar examination, if and when i fail, promise to continue loving me, promise to continue praying for me, and promise to force me to study, study, study, and study until i hit your head with a thick reviewer. if and when i pass, i, in turn, promise to take in one case from all of you for free.

i didn't mind forking over part of my savings to buy a lovely aqua gown (and matching shoes) cause i figured, well, one of my good friends is getting married so i'd probably have to buy a gown for that too. i was pretty smug over having the outfit part of the wedding covered until i found out last saturday that my the wedding is going to be at 2 p.m.

and today, after i received the invitation, i found out that not only is it at 2 p.m., it also says "strictly formal" on the invitation.

ever dependent on the powers of google, i googled "what to wear to an afternoon wedding" and got more hits than i cared to go through. unfortunately, none of them were really helpful.

one told me to wear a pretty light colored suit, something one would wear to a morning wedding. uh, NO.

another told me to wear something floral. uh, still NO.

one was a wee bit more helpful by being very specific. wear a sophistacated dress but up the oomph factor by adding, guess what, FUR. ok, i did want that fur capelet i saw at a bazaar last christmas but with the weather in manila being the way it is, i don't think fur would cut it.

this would officially be reason #1 why i want to be a guy. i bet the only thing the guys they've invited have to think of is, "have i gotten my barong back from the dry cleaners?"

let's not even get started on the issue of a wedding date. ::unless boss rey, your brother is willing to be one again :) :: i swear. the line "we reserved 2 seats for you" is beginning to sound like a curse. every single time i receive an invitation which says that happens to be that point in my life where i am (1) single, and (2) not seeing anyone at all. (i did ask "bad idea" - remember him van and rey? - but he happens to be in zamboanga at that time. what a bummer.)

i've got less than 28 days to figure out something.

for the meantime, i'm thinking that all these questions at least keeps me from dealing with the fact that i am turning a year older next week.

while i was too busy rejoicing over the fact that my reproductive system is normal (for now) i had forgotten to blog about something big that happened week.

my pre-Ben laptop died in its sleep.

i kept it in its usual place when i went home friday but when i tried turning it on monday, no amount of button pushing, power cord jiggling, and cursing could wake it up. i tried every single outlet in the office, left it plugged on (just in case it needed some "juice" cause the weekend left it parched), attached and unattached the battery, and called the MIS department of the Court all to no avail. the laptop that's seen me through my masteral thesis, my law paper, countless hours of "the sims" fun, and the early days of blogging has decided to turn itself into a huge hunk of paperweight.

goodbye my dear compaq armada. my dad gave you to me to celebrate the fact that i made it to UP LAW. i don't know if you're jealous of ben or if you simply decided that the time has come for you to go. but i will try to find a way to bring you back to life, ok? (after all, you're holding one almost finished decision hostage and i am not about to rewrite a crazy case simply because you won't give it up.)

very few things in the world can make me don rubber gloves, get on my knees, and clean my bathroom. one would be a cockroach infestation, another would be visitors, and the third would have to be a major issue in my life.

today, i got on my knees and scrubbed my bathroom tiles like i never have scrubbed them in my lifetime for the reason that tomorrow, i will get answers i may not be ready for.

a long time ago, in what seemed like another lifetime (and another blog), i found out that i was growing an ovarian cyst inside me. the doctor tried driving it away with hormones but the thing just grew bigger and bigger so they scheduled me for an operation to try to scrap the cyst away. sometime during the operation, the cyst popped, forcing them to remove my right (or was it left?) ovary.

after months of hormone therapy, countless sessions with the ultrasound machine, and a list of medicines like you wouldn't believe, my doctor gave me a clean bill of health with a warning that should i desire to have kids, i better get hitched soon.

unless i've been keeping things from you, my dear reader, you'd know that i am very much single right now. clearly, i didn't listen to my doctor's advice.

while my doctor's words would pop in my head once in a while, i never really gave it much thought until recently when (1) my stomach cramps got more and more painful (2) my cycle got shorter and shorter and (3) there was something seriously different with the blood that was coming out of me.

an SMS to my aunt/ob-gyne confirmed my worst fears: those were exactly the same symptoms she experienced right before she had to have her entire uterus removed.

so tomorrow, i'm scheduled to get an ultrasound and find the truth about my screwy remaining ovary. while the rest of the world will be spending their day filled with love, chocolates, and flowers, i will be spending my afternoon inside a hospital hoping to dear god that someday, some little child will look up to me and call me "mama".

dear w,

i know you've complained in the past that i never write about you (while i write about unworthy topics such as exes calling when they should not) and i know i've started so many posts about you so many times in the past but never got around to pressing "publish" for a million and one reasons.

so here's one for you. especially since it will almost be a year since i called you crying (you know how anniversaries are such a biggie for me). a year since you blew me away with that accent that for some weird reason goes away when you feel like chiding me whenever i saw "paota".

there are a million things about you that makes you one of my dearest friends in the whole wide universe, but let's begin with ten: (1) your corned beef (2) you giving up sugar free peppermint and taking vanilla instead (3) food that miraculously appears (4) long conversations that mean everything and nothing (5) putting up with my singing (6) knowing what to say and when to say it (7)chocolate donuts (8) teaching me the wonders of benadryl (9) your confidence in me and my abilities and (10) chance meetings.

but you know what's the best of the million? you always giving me another chance.

you're my big brother, my best friend, and when i feel most alone, my family.

you've complained how each and every insignificant person in my life has gotten at least one post in this blog's lifetime, while i basically ignore your presence in my life. know in your heart, my dear bud, that not one of them compares to you and the love and friendship you've given me without question.

something about today has made me realize that life's too short to spend fighting, asking questions, doubting, and hating.

so, none of that, no more, from now until forever.

much love,
rox

after an amazing lunch with my best friend (and her amazingly cute baby boy and v. v. irritating yaya) and the birthday celebration of the martian, i thought i was going to be able to spend my sunday catching up on work (i told you i'm back to normal life once more), sleep, and the season 2 lost dvds.

at first, i was able to do it. after struggling out of bed at 930, i finally got to try out sinangag express at phase one and find out what the fuss was all about (rodic's STILL tops my list). i then went home, popped in a dvd and tried to watch while fighting off sleep. a couple hours of sleep-watching later, i woke up refreshed, excited, and ready to tackle the three-inch thick rollo that was waiting to be decided.

except the ex called (no, w. you still lose the bet. you said four days) and he again said something that left a bad taste in my mouth and the bad taste in my mouth turned into something real and now i feel utterly sick.

sick as in joints aching. sick as in bitter taste in my mouth. sick as in it hurts to blink and it hurts to stand up and i can't even begin to think about going to work tomorrow.

who knows. maybe i will finally take w's advice and take a day off from work.

(btw, w, i found my banig of biogesic and i popped in one tablet already and i will pop in another tablet when i get some food in me. see, i DO listen to you sometimes.)

i'm turning 29 in two weeks. i never really considered it old (except when i think about my biological time bomb and the possibility that i may have difficulty having kids when i do finally get married) until today.

until today when i found myself inside a shop, staring at a lovely pair of distressed jeans with embellishments and said to myself, "darn, i am TOO old to be wearing jeans such as these."

bored out of my wits with my "manang" routine, i decided to treat my broke self to an afternoon at one of my most favorite places in the world: the mall.

i began my "i love rosa" afternoon by getting a facial. the girl warned me that the package i got does not involve any pricking, but i went for it anyway. it was lovely! i can't exactly remember now what she did to my face the entire 45 minutes i was under her control but after she was done with me, i couldn't help but touch my face every five minutes or so.

i then bought myself a whole lot of magazines (brainless reading + fashion tips = unbelievable fun) then parked my lovely arse at my favorite barber shop to get my nails pretty once more.

and what's a trip to the mall without some serious shopping? hot pink goddess top + red wrap around top (for valentine's? geez!) + the perfect white long sleeved top (finally!!!) + something for those serious days at work.

i went home seriously broke and, since my shoes weren't meant for shopping, a serious foot ache.

but then again, i was seriously happy too.

-oOo-

i am going to watch pinoy big brother celebrity edition religiously if only for the fact that i believe that christian vasquez is seriously hott! happy birthday hunk daddy!

once in a while, an ex-boyfriend magically turns himself into a good friend. while most of my exes remain to be non-entities in my life to this day, it's pretty hard to ignore an ex who has been your brother's (and yours too) friend for the last sixteen years of your life.

now, as if being an ex is bad enough, things are even more awkward if your ex happens to be married with a lovely daughter and you're expected to make an appearance in his birthday dinner this coming saturday.

are you supposed to be pretty or dowdy?
what gift are you supposed to give him?
how do you make small talk to the wife?
are you still allowed to give him a birthday peck on the cheek?

am i even supposed to show up? *sigh*

been thinking of these for the last 24 hours and i still don't have an answer.

maybe there's a reason why you're not supposed to be friends with your ex, and this, well, this happens to be one of them.

back to regular programming

after the dust has settled down, i am once more rosa, executive assistant v-ct at the court of appeals, with a quota of four cases a month, excluding resolutions, tro's, and motion for reconsiderations to deal with. given the fact that i cannot resort to donuts and junk food to relieve the current stress level (my boss continues to monitor my food intake. i guess she has taken it upon herself to make me svelte by the end of the year), i did the next best thing in the world.

shopping.

no, scratch that. SM with a three-day sale and an amazing shopping buddy will make shopping THE best thing in the world.

so, armed with my most recent pay envelope, i trekked over to SM sucat with a good friend. the original plan was to check out this pseudo derma place her boss recommended. however, with big red signs proclaiming everything was on sale, well, who were we to resist?

P230 skirt, P99 bag, P399 sexy stilettos, P200 belt, and P250 pants from bayo later, all stress from work was forgotten. (my friend went home with three pairs of shoes, a bag with feathers, a belt, and a cute top from bayo.)

we may both be single, but who cares? our hearts belong to henry sy, the king of retail therapy

after (1) i was able to use enough hairspray to burn my own personal hole in the ozone layer; (2) i danced the best i could with my two left feet; (3) i struggled to fit into gowns, cocktail dresses, and what-nots a beauty pageant contestant had to go through; and (4) spend my savings on a myriad of things pageant-related...

... i finally got through the entire ordeal and walked away with the second runner-up position and the special award for ms. personality.

now i'm not going to lie and say i didn't hope to god that i'd walk away with the plum prize but then when you got every other justice walking up to you and whispering to your ear "i gave you a perfect score in the interview portion" or "i believe you should have won" and after i made my boss and the entire office proud, i guess i'm mighty proud of the fact that i walked away with something.

*pictures up at my flickr site. click on one of the pictures on the right-hand side of this blog and that'll hopefully take you to my flickr page.