Woops!

27 02 2012

And ten days later, here we are, still struggling to run a regular beat for this page.

Why in the world is time so darn expensive?

One of these days I’m going to find time again. As soon as I am done with all the urgents, the deadlines and the must dos, I will write something a little more decent here.

But just so you are aware, I am crushing on Andrew Garfield. Drool.

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When You Say Trenta, It Means 30. Right?

17 02 2012

Are your ready foooooor …

The Trentaaaaaa!!!?

There was an audible toot when this was launched and although it has not entered my side of the globe, people are nonetheless stoked. Some may want to attempt not to keel over in undertaking its deep tub and some may just want to gawk.

And gawk, I shall do.

If and only if, I buy an SB Trenta it will only mean I am off to share it with someone. Make that 3 someone’s. Just the thought of it makes me want to formulate a way to not eat in three straight months. Until I can find it safe (that I won’t suddenly turn to a 350 lbs lady) I’ll live off the remnants of it’s ridiculous un-nutritional content.

Call me anti-hipster, prude or even anti-social (I think people socialize via coffee nowadays) I don’t give a hoot nanny’s. The only time I can assure myself that I will enjoy my coffee is if I stay below Grande. Anything over would mean a feat to overcome. A great coffee bender of epic proportion.

Ugh! No fun.





Safe Haven

15 02 2012

       “She was in a terrible marriage and she couldn’t talk to anyone. He used to hit her, and in the beginning she told him that if it ever happened again, she would leave him. He swore that it wouldn’t and she believed him. But it only got worse after that, like when his dinner was cold, or when she mentioned that she’d visited with one of the neighbors who was walking by with his dog. She just chatted with him, but that night, her husband threw her into a mirror.”

If it makes you feel any better … with a little training and a dash of imagination, you must know, you can write too. However don’t start your training by reading these materials.

Sorry. His writing just doesn’t float my boat.

Rating:





A Bit Better Now

10 02 2012

Ahhh, what a good time out. Nonchalantly reading anything that I want. Indeed a lovely day. If I wasn’t such a fatty trying to lose a bit of weight, a can of soda and a bag of chips would be nice.

But right now this is just fine. I love reading. Whether I understand it or not, I read. If perhaps I get the point and I end close to the author’s thoughts, then I’m happy. If not, I always tell myself I can move to another article that can perhaps whet my interest and recommend to friends.

After two days of busy business, I guess a little reprieve really does help.

I’m going home early today. Isn’t that lovely?. I hope you are doing as great as I am… if not you can always go to sleep or catch a movie to enjoy the blessings of escapism.

I can’t wait for Sunday. I get to see hot air balloons again.





For The First Time

9 02 2012




The Twilight Zone Moment

7 02 2012

It’ll be a busy week for me so I’m putting this out of the way as early as now. I don’t want to miss anymore committed weekly article.

After having gone through the customary torture appointement, a.k.a visit to the dermatologist, I am now peeling properly. Something not so appealing to look at. And although I’d like to go on leave in order to heal and avoid scarring people, I can’t. I willed to be at work for the entire week to avoid any problems that may arise while I’m away.

God knows I have enough problems on my plate to last me the whole first quarter.

I should be properly busy and occupied I won’t have any spare time to scribble. So here I am, writing unimportant thoughts.

What are the chances of two people, presumably so in love that they plan to marry, of  fighting three weeks in a row? If you ask me, I can say, very likely.

The first few weeks we were together it was established that we are completely two different individuals with very different principles and disciplines in life. I for one, is headstrong, works hard to earn respect (thus demands to be respected in return), thrifty, deliver what is promised and a lady. The other one is simply – and to avoid using the wrong words – laid back and have had experiences with women who give ladies like me a bad name. He was a case of good carefree boy ending with nasty women.

Tough luck, huh?

With that being said, we worked hard to be together given we’ve identified that we want resolved to be together. A need we both fondly acknowledge and firmly believe. Among the numerous differences we have, we choose to strive and make it work. In the many good days we have shared, I’ve seen that the hard work is paying off. However sometimes, when we forget that we are now adjusting to live as one, two separate headbutting individuals come out.

It brings both of us so much grief and a lot of exchanged words that are, at the end of the day, unnecessary and hurtful. Yet, with the many times we have fought we continually forget that we should not fight over petty things or perhaps just allow the other to sound off their frustrations and not take it the wrong way. All these times, all the kiss and make and up, all the lessons and all the tears has not taught us to stop fighting.

True, it is never healthy not to argue so we should still allow these gaps to come by in order for us to identify if a relationship is worth keeping. But arguing for three straight weeks is dangerous.

I am confident that we’ll be able to fare the storm, it’s only a matter of time before we go running in each other’s arms. What I do not like is the power of deadening fights. If we continue to be like this, fights will become a normal routine, so normal that instaed of sitting down and talking we just proceed to argue. That instead of facing challenges in a civilized way, we’ll just go for all out war.

I’ve never been a fan of couple fighting in public, or hearing my neighbors domestic issues. So I for one is scared of what this may make us.





Ay Caramba!

3 02 2012

I am forming a cornucopia in my face. Darnit!

With a measurable work load, wedding plans, writing and keeping a relationship (the last one is actually no work at all, yey!) zits are breaking out like there’s no tomorrow. And while my prowess in balancing work and life is obvious, I’m failing oh so miserably in the zit department. Or should I say the zit department is winning by leaps.

I was told that with the amount of things required of me and the very little time I have to relax, it’s directly affecting my skin. By staying ahead of my tasks, my body’s responding by staying put in its decision to breakout. Right now the only solution I see is visiting my dermatologist, something that will cause me a lot of grief because, one it’s expensive and two, it hurts like (expletive deleted).

After the visit, I would also have to suffer the customary peeling and looking disconnected – smiling would hurt. By this time I’d be full of indignation, getting in my way would be a bad idea. While visiting the dermatologist can fix my zit issues faster than you can say Shazam! it isn’t so easy when you walk around red-faced and peeling. Note that this is a five to seven days quasi-torture.

The world may be ambivalent to these afflictions but hell, the voice at the back of my head won’t let up until the last redness disappears.

I clock countless hours to keep a (good and happy) life, but I feel like my zits have been so inert (you’re supposed to be gone by now, I’m pass my teen years!) it is attempting to trash all that.

I can’t believe my zits are as stubborn as I am.