Nails and lots of it!

Say hello to my wonderful fingers (and don't mind my 5 yr old looking hands!). I'm posting this because of how proud I am on how good I did with painting my nails.

For weeks I've been terribly restless, and this is how I've been wasting my time. I change my nail polish every three days. There were days where I'd get annoyed with the color easily and I'll take it off just right after I've put it.

I remember when I was a kid and I didn't understand the joys of having your nails painted and get it chipped days after. Now I understand and I laugh with my naïve-ity/ness (looking for a good adjective) ways.

I'm using O.P.I for my fingers and L.A. Girl Polish for my toes.

I loooooove being a girl!

Potter Experience (NOTHING HAS ENDED)

I was going to share my whole experience from being a Potterhead since I was a little child (and still not going through puberty) but there are really no specific words to use. I watched the film two days ago but I could still feel my heart hurting.

I know this must be a little exaggerated, but if you grew up with the books and the films, you'll know what exactly what I'm trying to say here.

I won't tell much about the last film because I am not good with giving reviews (in school, I always end up having the lowest score in this kind of home works).

All I want to say is that HARRY POTTER AND HIS ADVENTURES WILL REMAIN WITH US! ALSO: I CAN'T WAIT FOR POTTERMORE

Vanilla Lace

She smells like vanilla lace. For remembering her smell, you’ll slowly remember her characteristics. Her dry, dark hair that flows up to her clavicles and her fringes that entirely covers her eyes. Then you remembered her face. Her almond-shaped eyes, and those dark circles underneath it. Her cute nose, chubby cheeks, and round-shaped chin. Oh god, you almost forgot the scar that was resting above her chin. That dark scar that obviously represents her restlessness and how she couldn’t take the once forming zit on it so she decided to pop it. And finally, you remember her soft, small lips. The lips that once explored your being.

You could still smell the vanilla lace, and while that drowns your veins your mind runs through the memory of her body. Her small, but nicely-shaped breasts and the baby fats that were unmistakeably forming on her tummy lingers on your fickle brain. Her long, perfect legs are now on the view too. And you are going crazy with the idea that you once had her. Once touched her. Once tasted her.

How could you let her go? How could you let go the happiness, the sadness, the craziness, and the lies? How could you let go the comfortably quiet evenings, the hugs, the kisses, and the sex? How could you let go a person who have loved you first, and herself last? How could you let the word ‘goodbye’ permanently separate the two of you? You are heartless.

Heartless for not giving her a chance. Heartless, she calls you, for not listening to her. Heartless because she cannot accept the truth that you just let her heart rot in questions, pain, and hell. Heartless for breaking her bones, her muscles, her soul with those stinging letters that formed that word ‘goodbye’.

And now, all you can do is collect the memories of her. The happiest days had now past, and everything is just dark and bruised. You might regret all of the horrible things you have caused her but you are scared shit. You are scared shit to accept that you are wrong. Scared shit to say you’re sorry. Scared shit to let anyone see you and how frail you are now.

Then you’re left with that scent of vanilla lace. Oh, how you hate it now because some other person is wearing it near you. You hate it because you cannot hurt that stranger for reminding you of the past. Because that stranger isn’t her. You are, once again, being tortured by the pain that has formed inside you. That you formed yourself.

She’s happy now. She’s even happier to know that you are not.

Because Hair Issues Are Exciting

Before I continue this post, I must warn you that this is about my hair and how I'm totally going bonkers about it (and how I'm turning into a very OC person lately). And I'm going to give you a brief history of my relationship with it.

Way waaaaaay back when I was little, I had a very long, dark, curly hair. If I just knew how lucky I was for having those majestic locks, I shouldn't have cut it. Anyway, I had no choice too. The Philippines had (and still has) a very humid condition, and I used to play outdoors a lot so my Mom decided that having it taken away from me is for the best. So since then, I got used to having very short hair. I used to rock bob cuts, boy hair, and I used to have the kind of hairstyle Former President Gloria Arroyo had (circa 2006). I also had Dora hair. People still tease me about it sometimes.

When I reached my junior year in high school, I decided to experiment with my hair. I had my first ever fringes (I let my classmate cut it--we were pretty stupid back then, okay!), and I let my hair grow a little. I was proud of it, actually. I felt ~*beautiful*~.

Anyway, I must've been on a lot of drugs in senior year because I decided to have a bob cut again! I was so into the K-Pop genre (it was a very stupid phase), and I thought I could rock the hairstyle again without looking stupid. Turns out, when you're older, and fatter than you used to be, bob cuts just don't look good on you in every. fucking. angle.

ALSO: I am the kind of person who get haircuts after getting my heartbroken. Even if my hair is so short, I'd still have a haircut. Which means: I kept my hair short until I was in first term in college.

So in college, I also had short hair. I got it dyed brown so it won't look dull just like how it used to in high school. It was kind of okay, I guess. I look more girly than before too so I didn't complain that much unlike when I was in high school.

But I guess things became rocky between me and my hair when I started going to boxing classes and gym. I grew it long and I always had it in a bun (and they said that isn't healthy for the hair). I also didn't took care of my roots and had treatments. Also, I got tired combing it and I just let it dry on its own and then I would use my hands to take the ones that got jumbled apart.

I guess my hair hates me, because I now have a great number of split ends. :( I'm having a lot of problems with it. I, at least, waste 20 minutes on just combing it because it's so dry (because I had it dyed again two months ago). I also experience hair fall! Seriously, if I didn't had my doctor's appointment, I might think I have stage 3 cancer!

Anyway, I'll try to patch things up between us starting with treatments. I'm also going to have the tips dyed (I'm still not decided which color, though) and hopefully, it becomes lively again.

Permanent/Updates

My Permanent Residence Card came in the mail today. It means, I'm an official, legal immigrant here in Canada. It's exciting to have it now considering that I'll be needing it whenever I decided to go out of this country (and come back before the expiration date of the card). It's pretty exciting, I guess.

I just made a Goodreads account (check it out!). It's an awesome site for book-whores like I am and keep tabs on the book you've read, currently reading, and wants to read. There are also a lot of nice people who gives you good book recommendations. And the awesomest (wrong grammar intended) of it all is that you can also download free e-books! I'm currently on a challenge of reading 50 books for the rest of the year *fingers crossed*. Goodreads should pay me for advertising them.

There's really nothing much to tell right now. I haven't experienced any exciting stuff lately because 1, I'm always in the room and glued in front of the computer and 2, I think I'm transforming into a boring person (which I don't want to happen but I think it already did *sad face*). I'm just too occupied with all my e-books lately and all the movie and music downloads I'm doing.

Anyway, that's all there is. I might post another entry next week after I have watched the last movie installation for Harry Potter.

Canada Day

Last Friday, I celebrated Canada Day for the first time. It was also the celebration of my Dad's birthday but I didn't get to enjoy it because he had a drinking party with Tito Lito's brothers and other relatives AKA my Dad's new 'friends'.

Anyway, my cousin invited me to come with him with his wife t

o The Forks Park and watch the fireworks. I accepted because I'm bored, and I don't re

ally go out of the house that much. And I have nothing better to do but waste another day in front of my computer.

These are the pictures my Ate Jackie took.

Ate Jackie, Me, Ate Lorena

Excuse me for only posting two photos because 1, I still don't know how to move the pictures around here on Blogger and 2, these are the only photos that I like. I don't even like my solo picture. The picture is great, don't get me wrong! My face isn't.

Canada Day was fun. It was funner seeing a lot of people drunk and running around the park giving strangers high-fives and screaming "FUCK YEAH, I LOVE CANADA!!!" It was kind of a bummer that I didn't get to go to the street party after the fireworks but I will definitely do next year.

I am looking forward for more Canada Day ahead of me!

He only exist in my mind

My ideal guy would be taller than me. Tanned skin. Messy brown hair like he just got out of bed. He won’t bother shaving for days and just leave the growing mustache and beard in his face but still looks clean. Ears with industrial piercing. He also have unusually amazing tattoos on his body, not like those cliché tattoos that doesn’t make sense. Rough hands that says he likes to do things on his own. Deep dark brown eyes. He eats a lot but he can still manage to look like a rock star.

He’s got a good personality. He can be friends with people who have different kinds of characters. He’s fun to be with. He’s also a smoker, and every week we’ll challenge each other to stop and then fail miserably together. The only sport he likes is F1. He plays basketball and soccer but he don’t follow the game religiously. He’s patient. He would listen to me whine. He’d understand about my anger issues. But he can be impatient too. He’d tell me when to stop being a bitch. He’d tell me when I’m being stupid. He likes kids but doesn’t know how to approach one. We would fight about how he find dogs more awesome than cats. He hates the same stuff that I do but we like different things. We have inside jokes that people will never find funny. He likes to cuss a lot. He loves to drive around. He’ll stay with me when I’m drunk and will lift my hair when I barf. He’d be my crying shoulder when I’m having PMS. He also likes making me mix tapes about songs that don’t really make a point. He likes teasing me a lot but knows when to stop. We watch a lot of movies, but he won’t get why I like the 50’s French romance films or any 50’s or 60’s films, ever. We’ll have meaningful conversations and try to talk like we’re both smart adults. He would get mad at me when I bother him when he’s reading but he won’t take me seriously when I’m angry at him when he do the same for me. He’ll randomly text me excerpts from the book he just read and that caught his attention. That will be his way of saying ‘I love you’ to me. He hates Shakespeare. We take photos of our silly faces. We’ll never have a decent one. He will tell me not to skip classes because he doesn’t need a dumb bitch for a girl friend. He’ll meet my parents and tell me my dad is cool. He will always try to cook for me but will always end up almost burning the house down. He’s creative. Smart. Deep thinker. He’ll hold my hand but will break apart when my hands become sweaty.

He’d be a pain in the ass and I’ll be one too. We might give-up each other but I will always have a special place in his memory.

The Downside of Being A Parasite

It has been a terrible month for me (considering where I live, and where the people I love lives). Canada has been awfully boring and has driven me into spending days in front of the computer. I'm not complaining, though. The internet is more than a very good company to keep. I'm also not complaining with the people I'm living with. They're nice people who always want to show me a good time, but Winnipeg, Canada isn't really the right place if you are looking for a ~*good time*~.

Anyway, what I'm really not getting used to is living in a place where I don't own. I'm not used to move around in limit. I'm used to having my own house, my own rules (or my parents' rules), with only my parents with me. I'm not used to having so many people surrounding my >bubble< and people looking at me and asking me what I'm doing and why am I not doing something.

And hence the feeling of being a parasite. I feel like one, really. I feel like I'm unintentionally being so dependent on others. I depend still on my parents, yes. But I don't like it when I depend on others. Because I feel like I'm giving up my freedom. I can't move freely, I sometimes get raised eyebrows when I make decisions. I'm not used with this kind of living and I'm not planning to get used to it too.

I can't wait to move out from here, really.

This Awesome Week

This week was especially F-U-N considering how I've managed to use most of the time being productive and feeling some sand on my toes and wind on my hair.

Sisler HS called back last Monday. Dad nagged me into studying so I 'studied' through Monday 'til Tuesday to get ready. I skimmed through parts of Math and Science but didn't give so much effort considering as I'm the happy-go-lucky kind of person. I just read some and continued reading Harry Potter. The exam went great, except for the Science test. It was so fucking hard--because I studied Biology and t

he shit was about Physics--I just had to guess most of it.

Anyway, I know I did great. The school will call again to give me grade 11 courses that I'll take (or maybe they'll let me choose too, IDK).

---

Then Friday, I went with my parents and my cousin to the bank to accompany Dad and get his Visa card so he could finally buy himself a new phone. He went through stuff I didn't understand which lead for him not to have the card yet. My other cousin called and invited us to come with him and his family to Red River Exhibition (which is a carnival that only goes into the town once a month).

The place was shitload of fun! I got to go to this ride that made me want to hurl 'cause it felt like I was going round in an electric fan. And there were a lot of stuff that was so fun but I couldn't explain it anymore. And I won a cheetah stuff toy!!

---

Then the next day, we went to my cousin's house to have dinner and karaoke! I don't have pictures of it yet because my cousin's wife took great pictures and I'm waiting for her to share 'em with me. I took crappy ones and I didn't even have a good picture on my own camera (suxx2bme)!!!!

---

And then today, we were planning to go to Fun Mountain--a pool resort--and swim and have a picnic. We got disappointed because food and beverages were not allowed inside the place (even though t'was allowed a year ago!!) so we had to go to Bird's Hill which is a park with a man-made lake where people swim. It was a good place too! It has this wild-life feel, surrounded with trees and has fresh air. The man-made lake didn't had a clear, blue water but undoubtedly very clean.

Dad didn't went with us because he had to go to work. :(

---

Also, I've been trying to cut down on my calorie intakes but I'm terribly failing! It's so hard keeping my diet when it's sooooo good taking down all the food that cross my way! I'm working on it!

On Being Me

This could be a disadvantage but I'm a very secretive person when it comes with my family. I like to push them all out of my bubble and choose just a few to trust. Aside from my parents, I only trust one other person, which is my Tita Jaja (my Dad's youngest sister). Other than them, I only trust my secrets with my friends.

And I love her so. People ask me why~

I also have this not-so-good reputation in our family. The thing is, my Dad raised me as a kid who should always observe people and not to trust them right away. And I was actually awakened at an early age to what my relatives are like and who I should and shouldn't trust. I wasn't like any other kid who just comes up to them and be sweet and stuff. I was the kind of niece/grand daughter/cousin who just sits in the corner and wait for the others to smile at me before I could smile back.

You see, you can never really blame my parents for teaching me grown-up stuff in an early age. They were practical enough to show me the real world right away so I wouldn't panic and feel dependent to others.

I know, I know, it's my family I am talking about after all. I should respect them and try to control my emotions when I'm around them (because I'm a very tacky person, I usually just say whatever's on my mind without really thinking about them). I do respect them, I really do. I love them all and we have shared a great deal of awesome memories but sometimes, they just get in my nerves. They have different attitudes and they do lie to my parents about small stuff and I really hate liars.

I really don't know what's the point of this post and I have already broken a rule my Dad told me (not to share the most intimate issue in my life) but I just need to get this off my chest because lately, my Aunt has been grinding my gears and I've been using all my strength not to explode and let myself loosely scream right at her face.

Game Face On!

I've been worrying about my weight lately (even though I should have worried about it years ago). Most of my clothes don't fit me anymore and I can feel my arms wiggle whenever I use them. Being fat (yes, I have said the F word!!) has been one of my ugliest description since I was born and I really want to change that now.

This was taken at the Philippines 3 months ago.

I used to be one of those girls that says, "the most important beauty is what's within" but let's face it, that doesn't really apply in the big world. And I'm definitely tired of saying that to all the people who have been teasing me and it's really starting to grind my gears because it's as if "fat jokes" are the funniest jokes they have ever heard. Being immature is one of my pet peeves.

Anyway, I used to go to the gym and have my boxing class, but I have stopped for almost four months now and my weight just increased again. It's really hard to take tabs on your weight when you're as lazy as me. I'm the kind of person who eats after eating and it just goes on and on and on and on...

So I made this diet plan that will help me stretch this muscles up and lose weight in no time!

100 jumping jacks

50 crunches

60 leg lifts

15 sit-ups

20 minute run

That should do it, right? I could change that when I start to get bored with it and I'm actually thinking of enrolling myself to a yoga class or start to box again. And I might go try the vegetarian diet too. I'm really pumped up into doing this and I wish (crossed-fingers and with cherries on top) my weight goes down after two months. I want to be as good-looking as Mila Kunis before my eighteenth birthday. :3

Temporary study table

As the caption below goes, it is only for temporary. I haven't told this yet, but me and my family decided to move here in Canada. I've been here for almost a month now (and thanking the unicorns of the heaven for sending me here on a summer season), and currently living in with a relative's home because we still don't have enough money to buy our own home.

So what do I do now? Well, the internet has been keeping me company (which is great!), waiting for the jobs I applied at to call me, and waiting for the school I registered to to call me too for my assessment. I'm not really bored because Tumblr is more than enough to amuse me and I have been reading the Harry Potter books again.

This is where the temporary table comes in. It's my kind-of cave as of the moment. People can't disturb me when I'm using it. It's the only place where I can be at peace. Whenever I sit down on the chair in front of it, I recite a chant that goes, "You're in your bubble now. No one can touch you. No one can bother you. You're the only person in this bubble and no one else." I might be kidding about that chant but I'll let you ponder on that.

The table consist of the things I'll be needing (so I won't need to stand and leave the place for a long time). A box of BIC pens, stash of bond papers, the printer, iPod & mini-stereo for music, my planner, Moleskine, external drive for my laptop files, my Aldo bag that contains nothing but my wallet and coin purse (as of the moment because I'm still begging my dad to buy me an iPhone!!!), bottled water & snacks (which isn't present on the photo). The only thing I hate is when I have to pee and go out of my >bubble< and interact with people.

Anyway, I'm in the mood to share this with you because (1) I have no one to talk to, and (2) I'm looking for something to take my mind away from my irritation with my oily-face.

Hoarder

What is up, people? I am done with the introduction stuff because this is my third blogger account! I hope I won't get tired updating this one because boy-oh-boy was I very disappointed with my attention span when nothing happened with the last one (insert sad face).

Going straight with my topic...

Hoarder

Definition: is a person who has a problem with throwing out a large number of items that would appear to have little or no value to others.

I named this post "hoarder" because I'm somewhat like one. I don't literally keep trash with me but I do have this lack of strength to let go of my old social-networking or blog site accounts. That still counts as hoarding, right? Anyway, I thought of deleting them before but I convinced myself that it was not the right time because the memories were still fresh--even though years had already past--and I was still in that stage where I come back to them and look at the pictures that would remind me of the happiness the past gave me.

My strength might have boosted up--or maybe it's because I'm emotionally disabled now--because when I visited Friendster today, I didn't had second thoughts with deleting it after looking at the photos and went on it in a flash without thinking. The same happened with my Multiply, Blog.com, Wordpress, Xanga, and the other blogger account.

You should've seen my face when I finished doing it. I felt like I'm a bird got out of a cage. My past isn't holding me back anymore. And I'm happy with what I did. I don't regret anything because I know it was the greatest thing I have ever did.

It's nice to go back to the past once in a while but taking time to appreciate the present is more healthy. It's another step for being genuinely happy!!! I need to get back to my old self fast!!!!