<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010</id><updated>2011-08-30T05:56:35.071+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pinny and me tonight</title><subtitle type='html'>it never was and never will be. you're not real and you can't save me. and somehow, you're everybody's fool.
</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>117</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-8781979218621625229</id><published>2008-02-20T22:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T22:49:57.974+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Attention!!!</title><content type='html'>There is &lt;u&gt;NO&lt;/u&gt; killer on the loose!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch this... &lt;a href="http://www.gmanews.tv/largevideo/latest/18259/Psycho-killer-on-the-loose"&gt;http://www.gmanews.tv/largevideo/latest/18259/Psycho-killer-on-the-loose&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Lord. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-8781979218621625229?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/8781979218621625229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=8781979218621625229' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/8781979218621625229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/8781979218621625229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2008/02/attention.html' title='Attention!!!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-4774200182949747717</id><published>2008-01-16T18:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:15:44.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Used To Make You Laugh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/R43quci6gyI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2rTJAAru-C4/s1600-h/11f7af9f99221703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156035232066601762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/R43quci6gyI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2rTJAAru-C4/s200/11f7af9f99221703.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was an emotional roller coaster for me in the office. First of all, I'm already in the 12:00mn shift, which was something that I always wanted... For us. At least there's time for us to talk before I have to go to work. But there's no point now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second, this person really, really pissed me off. When I was in my station trying to calm myself down, my first instinct was to call you, and tell you all about it. :( I mean, you know all the characters in my life. Down to the last person. :( Haaaaaaaaaay... This is so hard. I swear, sometimes I think I'm okay, I think that I can get through this, but today I just can't. I hate to admit it, but I really need you. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone is telling me to move on, to realize the fact that you might not be coming back, pero... Ang hirap. Ang hirap hirap!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way home, I just kept thinking... You were probably still sleeping. &lt;em&gt;Haaaaaaaaay&lt;/em&gt;... What I wouldn't give to be able to call you and tell you what a crappy day I had at work. What I wouldn't give to be able to call you and say, "&lt;em&gt;B, wake up, you'll be late&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I can't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sabi mo sakin, "&lt;em&gt;walang limitations. Call me or text me anytime. If you want to see me, we can meet&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I don't think that's true. I hear your voice whenever we get to talk on the phone... Alam ko na ayaw mo talaga. And napipilitan ka lang. :( See, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;alam ko kasi na masaya ka na sa buhay mo ngayon eh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. And I know you too well. Alam ko kung pano ka sa past relationship mo... How you don't like it when she calls you. And alam ko na right now ganyan narin ang nararamdaman mo sa akin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I keep thinking of what you said to me, "&lt;em&gt;ang hirap mo kasing pasayahin&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Naisip ko na baka totoo nga yon. Maybe you got tired of my never-ending problems... About work, about my car, about my brother in law... Siguro it just came to a point that I just became so negative na naging baggage na ako sayo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry. Hindi ko talaga sinasadya.&lt;/em&gt; :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want you to know though, that I tell you those things, because I wanted you to know every part of me. Kasi ako, I want to know every part of you. Kaya nga sumasama ang loob ko ng sobra, kasi you know all the stuff I go through in the office, and at home. You know that I go through hell and I even told you that I don't care if my office life is fucked up, as long as I have the people that matter. You, most especially. Pero ngayon, I don't even have you. I feel like I don't have anyone anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;See, I didn't only lose my B, but I lost a friend&lt;/em&gt;. I know that things may never go back to the way they were between us, and it really kills me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we were talking about this person na sabi mo close lang sayo, sabi mo, "wala, pag magkasama kami, tawa lang kami ng tawa."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I used to make you laugh.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I guess the past few months you had with me, I gave you more headaches than laughs. I'm so sorry. :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I soooo want to call you right now, just to hear your voice. I soooo want to fight for you, and try to win you over... Pero I want to respect your space. And I think you're past this na. I think masaya ka na with your life. With your family. With your school. With your friends. With...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for me... I'm moving to Cainta on February 1. Something na I thought would be good for us too. At least magka-sched na talaga na tayo... Pero right now, haaaaaaaaaaaaay... I'm sorry, you said na I should do things for myself. Pero I couldn't help it eh. Right now, yung Cainta na yan, ang naiisip ko lang...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;What the hell for?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaay... I don't even know if I want to post this. Shit! What the hell! This is the only place I can be myself and not have to pretend that everything is okay...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-4774200182949747717?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/4774200182949747717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=4774200182949747717' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4774200182949747717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4774200182949747717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-used-to-make-you-laugh.html' title='I Used To Make You Laugh...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/R43quci6gyI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2rTJAAru-C4/s72-c/11f7af9f99221703.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-3291226700777024104</id><published>2008-01-11T17:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T17:04:05.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;anger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-3291226700777024104?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/3291226700777024104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=3291226700777024104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/3291226700777024104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/3291226700777024104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-1381194579014791651</id><published>2008-01-09T21:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T22:28:40.805+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Guess It Wasn't Tight Enough...</title><content type='html'>Dear B,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's over.  I know I ended it, but I'm like in a daze.  I don't know if I'm still in denial or what, my heart is numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow this will sink in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wake up, I'll reach for my sun phone and realize that I can't text you anymore.  I can't say, "hey b, im up na. mwah!"  I guess for me that's the hardest part.  Pano ko sisimulan na di na gawin yung mga bagay na nakasanayan ko na?  Like, do you realize that for the past 3 years or so there was never a day that we didn't text?  (Siguro yung nasa Boracay lang ako.)  Do you realize that for the past 3 years or so, never a day goes by that I don't get to talk to you?  Pano ko sasanayin ang sarili ko na ganon?  What do I do when I get the urge to call you in the middle of the night and talk about whatever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dito palang sa kwarto ko eh.  My room is screaming "b! b! b!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alam mo ba, for the past few days niyayakap ko lang si Balawis?  It's funny, kasi when I hug Balawis, I dream that I am hugging you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every where I go, I just really see you talaga, or see something that's connected to you, and tangina, it really breaks my heart.  Even this freaking laptop reminds me of you.  Alam mo naman kung bakit diba?  The other day, I saw this truck of pigs.  Even my car.  I remember all those moments we had there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kanina, when I was coming into your village, I just kept thinking that this is probably the last time I'm going to see these gates.  When I sat on your side walk, I thought of how I felt so safe in your village.  And I thought how your house was one of my favorite places in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were talking earlier, I was looking at your face.  I was trying to memorize it.  I thought of how you would never look at me the same way again.  When you put your arm around me to comfort me, pinipigilan ko talaga yung sarili ko na yakapin ka.  Kasi alam ko na mami-miss ko lang eh.  And lalo lang ako masasaktan kasi alam ko na wala na akong all-access pass sa mga yakap at halik mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that I could do one thing for you, which was to wait. Gusto ko lang klaruhin na I did not do this because I couldn't wait.  I did this because I don't want you to suffer na.  I think I already caused you too much unhappiness, and again, this is the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please try to remember all of the things I said earlier.  And the thing I gave you...  I really did give that to you kasi baka maalala mo kung bakit mo binigay sakin yan 3 years ago...  When you still saw me as someone you could love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please take care of yourself.  Do well in what you have to do, and utang na loob, wag ka palagi magpupuyat.  Yung mga sakit mo, please lang, magpa-check up ka na sa doctor...  Na hindi taga-Marikina.  Hehe!  Remember that you can call or text me whenever you want.  And if nagkita tayo if ever, sana walang awkward moments.  I really, really hope we could still be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh nga pala...  I wrote you a big-ass card after Christmas.  I never got to give it to you kasi we didn't see each other na.  But I want to share with you something that I wrote in that card.  The card itself says;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"To have you as my love requires a lot of patience and continuous sacrifice...  So what?!  I love you anway."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside the card, I wrote this...  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"You know what b, I really enjoyed sleeping beside you and waking up next to you Christmas day.  It was one of those nights where I really felt so at peace, and rested, and waking up literally happy to see the person beside me."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling you this, because I want you to know that the last time we were together was one of the best nights of my life.  So thank you.  Thank you for everything.  I learned a lot from you.  I hope you learned something from me din kahit papaano.  Kahit correct pronunciation.  Hehe!  Please keep in mind what I said.  Go do what you have to do, think about what you have to think about...  And come back to me if you know just how you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will really miss you a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaay...  This is the thought that scares me the most.  But don't worry, I'll be fine.  Please stay safe.  Take care always. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS:  Say hi to your amigas for me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I will love you always,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-B&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-1381194579014791651?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/1381194579014791651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=1381194579014791651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/1381194579014791651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/1381194579014791651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-guess-it-wasnt-tight-enough.html' title='I Guess It Wasn&apos;t Tight Enough...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-4513674793389014621</id><published>2008-01-07T14:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T15:26:05.274+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death...</title><content type='html'>I woke up today to the news of my friend's father's death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali texted all of us at 9:17am; "Gandas! My dad died yesterday at around 8:30 am.  His wake is at sanctuario, at the corner of q. ave and araneta ave room 302, if ever you want to visit us we will be here till sat... I think.  Please pray for my dad.  Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing that came to my mind was, "hindi ko manlang alam na may sakit si Tito Jun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 is starting out to be a real bitch, isn't it?  There have already been quite a number of deaths and it's not even half-way through the month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;death of loved ones...&lt;br /&gt;death of relationships...&lt;br /&gt;death of friendships...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what really puts the icing on top of this &lt;em&gt;pain&lt;/em&gt; cake is that these deaths are all taking us by surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only imagine what Ali must've felt.  Hearing someone say that her dad had passed away.  My worst death scenario is that I'll be coming home from the office, all tired and just anxious to just eat, watch TV and fall off to sleep, when someone would meet me by the door and tell me horrible news.  It doesn't have to be about death necessarily, but it could be about an accident, or an unwanted guest in the house, or an unwanted phone call.  Like when I found out that the boy crashed my car.  I remember my sister's first words...  "Wag ka magagalit, kasi kawawa naman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man!!!  Thanks ha...  A little heads up would've been nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most painful I guess would be hearing someone say, "something happened to______."  or "something happened to us."  It's one of those situations where you would just sit stunned for like a day thinking, "Huh? What?? How did that happen?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, where was I when this was all happening?  Where was I when you were falling out of love for me? What happened in the last few weeks when we were just together and we spent a lovely night?  Was I just too wrapped in my fantasy world that I had just imagined that we were happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, these types of news can just rip our hearts apart and leave us with too many questions...  I bet Ali is sitting in the room where they are holding their father's remains thinking, "why??  Why now??  Why did this have to happen??  What will happen to us after this??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I am bothered by similar questions...  Why??  Why did this happen?? What will happen to me now??  To us?  If there is still an us...  Why did you fall out of love??  What did I do??  And what could I have done??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not angry.  I am just saddened with everything that's been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not going to work today.  I'm going to pick up Florence in her condo near Miriam, have dinner at Flaming Wings and go to Ali's dad's wake.  I am going to call in sick.  And when they ask for the reason of my absence, can I say, "broken heart"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehehehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Missing-you-Poster-C12193998.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-4513674793389014621?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/4513674793389014621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=4513674793389014621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4513674793389014621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4513674793389014621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2008/01/death.html' title='Death...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-7094752836804286694</id><published>2007-07-12T18:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T18:55:13.398+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Haaaay...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;Hindi ako makahinga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-7094752836804286694?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/7094752836804286694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=7094752836804286694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/7094752836804286694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/7094752836804286694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/07/haaaay.html' title='Haaaay...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-3080300507125531676</id><published>2007-06-19T18:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T04:15:45.138+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did This</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Just a thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times have I started my posts with "I'm in the process of reevaluating my life."? It sounds so cliche and over used, but when I start my entries, I usually go straight to the point. No more introductions or what not. Right now, I'm going to start my post by saying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a psycho mode day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate coming to work. I hate all the drama, the hate, the talking about the issues, the going behind people's back. I hate everything! I wish it would just stop! I thought the arrival of our new sup would bring a fresh start to things. All the bitterness and pain of the past would all go away, or at least die down slowly. But hearing someone say that there is a plan to bring out all of our deep dark secrets out in the open frankly makes me sick to my stomach. More so to the fact that I know I'm not completely innocent. I've made wrong decisions, prioritized the iniquitous things, and messed with the wrong people. I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of. And I'm afraid that what I didn't know is that it's all going to come back and bite me in the ass one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss those times when everything felt so easy. I miss those times when I would gladly stay two to three hours beyond my shift to finish my deliverables. Now, it's like I would want to stay in the office as little as possible. Log in at 5:59am and log out at 3:05.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been damaged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think, somehow, life here brought out the best and worst of me. And I think to myself that I didn't use to be this way. I didn't wish anyone harm. I did not like to gossip. I did not like to break the rules as much as possible. Yes, I always have a choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't make the right one. And now I'm afraid I can't undo the past. I'm afraid to try because part of me thinks it wouldn't do any good. I will always be marked as this person. I am living in an unforgiving world. And sorry is a sign of defeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading my old blog and I saw my Top 10 Comfort Things;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Two piece chicken joy with extra gravy&lt;br /&gt;9. Arce Dairy Cookies and Cream ice cream&lt;br /&gt;8. No traffic in Rosario Bridge&lt;br /&gt;7. Gerry's Grill Bulalo Steak&lt;br /&gt;6. Hanging out in Starbucks with a cup of tall Caramel Macchiato and a good book&lt;br /&gt;5. A good conversation.&lt;br /&gt;4. Hearing someone say "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;3. A great big huuuuug.&lt;br /&gt;2. Driving in big long hi-ways.&lt;br /&gt;1. Rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was so simple back then. I was so simple back then. Where did I go? Where is the girl who wanted to be a novelist and wanted to start her own magazine. What happened to all those plans I made? What happened to all those stories that I've played over and over again in my head? What happened to not worrying about anything? What happened to listening to music? What happened all my hopes and dreams? What happened to being so engrossed in a book that I wouldn't even notice that it was becoming dark and I need to switch the light on? What happened to loving soccer so much that I would wake up at 2:30 in the morning just to watch a UEFA game? What happened to playing in the rain? What happened to not being lonely? What happened to putting every thought in my head into writing? What happened to being efficient? What happened to July For Kings, Fuel, Lifehouse, Stabbing Westward and The Calling? What happened to the weekly movies? What happened to watching Monday Night Laughs in Star World? What happened to my simple joys?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is only a phase. I will be okay again tomorrow. The thing is, I've known this for a long time and I told myself this over and over again... Only I can control my life. Only I can make it better or worse. If I'm feeling that something is not right, I cannot turn to someone and wish that that person can make things all good. If I want comfort food, I have to go and buy it myself. If I want no traffic in Rosario Bridge , I have to come home early to avoid rush hour. If I want a good conversation, I have to initiate it. If I need a hug, I have to hug myself. (Uy, ano ab yun?! Scary naman! Hahahaha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Speaking of doing things for myself from now on… I’m so excited to get this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/Rney20i1DfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Bf1pn3m0Nig/s1600-h/hp7childus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077723759770930674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/Rney20i1DfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Bf1pn3m0Nig/s200/hp7childus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matinding pag-pila nanaman ito sa National Bookstore mehn! Ang saya! Review, review, review! Hehehehehehe! =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-3080300507125531676?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/3080300507125531676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=3080300507125531676' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/3080300507125531676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/3080300507125531676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-did-this.html' title='I Did This'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8R0QMjptjps/Rney20i1DfI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Bf1pn3m0Nig/s72-c/hp7childus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-8421479595281081773</id><published>2007-06-17T22:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T22:09:47.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Himitsu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have a secret...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Miss_You_by_Anarchsoul.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Shhhhh...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-8421479595281081773?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/8421479595281081773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=8421479595281081773' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/8421479595281081773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/8421479595281081773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/06/himitsu.html' title='Himitsu'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-5509939539600477715</id><published>2007-06-13T20:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T21:10:24.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tamad</title><content type='html'>I don't know why I am like this all of a sudden, but I absolutely despise going to work. I hate, hate, hate it.  Although things are actually better at work now. The issues have died down...  And I think that both parties, or most of the people included in the "parties" (ehem, ehem) are at peace already.  I mean, at least I hope.  Laughter and fun is back in the lab.  I just hope no one messes up with the pseudo peace that is happening in the lab.  Especially not a new comer who is known for having temper problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you daaaaaare fuck with the lab peeps if you don't want to see how we can mess with your head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yabang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, I'm so tamad to work.  Getting to work is actually not the big bulk of the problem...  On my way to work, I think of the things that I have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;June TL Calibs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Update the PIP Trackers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Evals&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Uploads&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Accenture Master Tracker Formulas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Collate the Names and start dates of agents for the Wave Trackers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get the 30-60-90 scores for the said agents&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so far, here is what I've done among the list;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;June TL Calibs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Update the PIP Trackers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Evals&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Uploads&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Accenture Master Tracker Formulas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Collate the Names and start dates of agents for the Wave Trackers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get the 30-60-90 scores for the said agents&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it!   I am so dead!  I have to reach 50% of my Evals and Uploads by the end of the week.  I cannot even begin to imagine how I am going to finish all my deliverables within the rest of the week.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaay...  Please Gaylaloo...  Wag ka na tamadin...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-5509939539600477715?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/5509939539600477715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=5509939539600477715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/5509939539600477715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/5509939539600477715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/06/tamad.html' title='Tamad'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-4895859376255897569</id><published>2007-06-11T22:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T22:26:35.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wildcat</title><content type='html'>I have a new toy... =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="My New Bike" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/06112007007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can honestly say that I could not ask for more at this point in my life. As in! Thank you Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-4895859376255897569?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/4895859376255897569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=4895859376255897569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4895859376255897569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/4895859376255897569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/06/wildcat.html' title='Wildcat'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-1289700014591681544</id><published>2007-06-09T23:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T20:55:37.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Get You</title><content type='html'>I get you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day was an epiphany for me. It was the first time that I felt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;truly that I could lose you. Honestly, I've thought about it quite a number of times before. I'm not proud of it. But I wouldn't deny it either. I played it over and over in my head. How it would happen, who would finally say it... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'm sorry but I think we're take some time off."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I love you but I think we want different things."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Or just simply...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I want out."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'm tired... Of this. Of us."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Those words terrified me a lot. I didn't want to think about it. Although I wanted to talk to you about it.  I guess I was waiting for something to happen.  Anything!  Just so we could get out of this slump.  Just so I could feel that I am not alone in this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you said it...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I can't make you happy..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really felt for the first time that I could lose you.  I've thought about it, thought about how it would feel, and how I would react... But at that moment, I felt my life shattering.  I wasn't ready to lose you and I don't think I will ever be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're my b...  What would my life be without my b...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't lose you.  Not at this time, and not this way.  It's too easy.  Too...  Surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Let's work this out.  Really work.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.  God only knows how much and why, but I do.  And I finally get you now.  I get you.  All your little quirks...  Why you acted that way sometimes...  Why you were so mad at me.  It all made sense.  And I'm happy that that night happened, in a way, because I understand you more now.  And I am able to look at you and laugh with you (or at you hehehehe) again.  When I think about you, I think about the person that I fell in love with.  The person I think about before I go to sleep at night and the first thing that comes into my head the minute I wake up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I get you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm glad that I do.  =)  I feel like I'm walking in the clouds again.  I feel like I can do anything and be anything again, because of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had fun with you yesterday...  The walks in the mall are less tiring now.  Dinner was much more delicious.  The conversations were more meaningful...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even the kisses are sweeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-1289700014591681544?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/1289700014591681544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=1289700014591681544' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/1289700014591681544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/1289700014591681544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-get-you.html' title='I Get You'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-115868198350567247</id><published>2006-09-19T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T00:31:40.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nakapagtataka</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/cake.jpg" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nakapagtataka &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;by Jim Paredes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Walang tigil ang gulo sa aking pag-iisip&lt;br /&gt;Mula nang tayo'y nagpasyang maghiwalay&lt;br /&gt;Nagpaalam pagkat hindi tayo bagay&lt;br /&gt;Nakapagtataka, oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung bakit ganito ang a-king kapalaran&lt;br /&gt;Di ba't ilang ulit ka nang nagpaalam&lt;br /&gt;At bawat paalam ay puno ng iyakan&lt;br /&gt;Nakapagtataka, nakapagtataka&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ka ba napapagod, o di kaya'y nagsasawa&lt;br /&gt;Sa ating mga tampuhang walang hanggang katapusan&lt;br /&gt;Napahid na ang mga luha, damdamin at puso'y tigang&lt;br /&gt;Wala nang maibubuga, wala na 'kong maramdaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung tunay tayong nagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt;Ba't di tayo magkasunduan&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walang tigil ang ulan at nasaan ka, araw&lt;br /&gt;Napano na'ng pag-ibig sa isa't isa&lt;br /&gt;Wala na bang nananatiling pag-asa&lt;br /&gt;Nakapagtataka, saan ka napunta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ka ba napapagod, o di kaya'y nagsasawa&lt;br /&gt;Sa ating mga tampuhang walang hanggang katapusan&lt;br /&gt;Napahid na ang mga luha, damdamin at puso'y tigang&lt;br /&gt;Wala nang maibubuga, wala na 'kong maramdaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung tunay tayong nagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt;Ba't di tayo magkasunduan&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song has been playing a lot in my mind lately. Hehe. For some reason, you seem to like this song. Well, we had yet another one of our classic fights. Sometimes I feel you getting tired of this, maybe even giving up easily... I don't blame you. It gets a little tedious at times. There are moments where we wish we could just go to sleep and act like nothing happened in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But actually...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind the fights. Hehe. Okay, I know the fighting and the crying and the pain in the heart sucks, but the making up after the fight... Man, those are the good times for me. It's like starting with a clean slate, you and I. Only, we know better and we're a little wiser. Hehe. I mean, you're right. The fighting about the same thing over and over gets a little old eventually, but I don't think we do that all the time. Hehe. I try as much as I can to end the fight (as in really end) right there and then so that we don't have another fight about it again. Hehe. But if I slip once in a while, &lt;strong&gt;I am sorry&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry for all the fights in the past... For all the stuff I pulled... For all the cheap shots... For being a brat... For being overly sensitive... For being psycho at times... And for all the things that I didn't even know I did that hurt you and made mad. And I'm sorry too for all the future fights that we're going to have. Hehe, coz I know we'll have them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly, I don't believe this song. This song reminds me of you, but just because you always sing this. Hahaha! I would never get tired of you. Of us. I would never question our love, just like this song. And the fights, hehe, I don't mind them... &lt;em&gt;Eh kung palagi ba naman akong may chocolate cake with "Peace?" written on it eh. Hahahaha! Joke lang... +.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-115868198350567247?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/115868198350567247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=115868198350567247' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115868198350567247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115868198350567247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/09/nakapagtataka.html' title='Nakapagtataka'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-115816252965955652</id><published>2006-09-13T22:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T23:48:49.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Kamusta Ka Naman Ulit?</title><content type='html'>Hmmmm... Just some updates...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month ago, I started working for this company.  I hated the job.  I totally didn't fit in.  But I thought it was a good opportunity.  The thing though, it was the work I hated.  The work I left a year ago.  But...  You gotta start somewhere, right?  And the pay was not bad... Not bad at all. (Wink wink!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I got sick on the last days of training...  Call it a sign, or an omen or what not, but the point is, I had to leave.  I miss my old officemates.  I miss my buddy Pao... But it wasn't as emotionally distressing as my previous jobs.  I mean, we were only together for about a month, so I wasn't really as emotionally attached to them as the PS peeps whom I was with for about a year, and the AA peeps whom I was with for about 15 years.  Hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a really humbling experience.  I learned to be responsible and value every little thing because &lt;strong&gt;they&lt;/strong&gt; were like that.  I remember the best part of my day was walking from Ate DR's office in Jupiter Street to my office in Tordesillas Street along Buendia Ave.  I love Makati.  Walking that not so long distance makes me appreciate the little things about working and working in Makati for that matter...  I got to appreciate the people who are working day in and day out for their families, you know, working for someone else aside from yourself.  I got to appreciate the people commuting everyday.  I even wanted learn how to commute myself.  I incessantly ask Ate DR how to commute from the house to Makati.  Hehe.  I think, since Ate DR and I drive to work almost everyday except on our restdays, we've gone closer.  We talked about our plans in the future, what we want to happen to our lives and all that serious stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I had a plan again.  I had goals.  And one good thing about ACS was it was able to get me back to my old "plan-control-freak" self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like I said, I had to leave the company...  And I was in the "looking-for-a-job" phase...  But, almost like it had been a part of this master plan or grand design of God, my good friend Enrico Cachero told me that there was an opening for a job that I would kill for... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I realized that I can't imagine myself working without talking.  Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right now, I am just waiting for a few minor things before I can really, &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; get the job offer...  But I think, it's pretty much in the bag.  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I bid farewell to Makati...  To taking calls... To paying for parking...  And say hello to bigger and better things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality Check:&lt;br /&gt;   Family: All is good and everyone is healthy, happy and accounted for. ;)&lt;br /&gt;   Friends: All is good and everyone is healthy, happy and accounted for. ;)&lt;br /&gt;   Career: Hmmm... Question mark pa...&lt;br /&gt;   Love: All is good, still in love, healthy, happy and accounted for. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in other words, I'm just waiting for this job nalang talaga... Ehem, ehem God... Help me please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-115816252965955652?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/115816252965955652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=115816252965955652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115816252965955652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115816252965955652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/09/so-kamusta-ka-naman-ulit.html' title='So Kamusta Ka Naman Ulit?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-115587937921951957</id><published>2006-08-18T13:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T13:43:01.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Special Day...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/party-pink-happy.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/bday.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/party-pink-jessa.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-115587937921951957?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/115587937921951957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=115587937921951957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115587937921951957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115587937921951957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/08/its-special-day.html' title='It&apos;s A Special Day...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-115045608365628552</id><published>2006-06-16T18:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-16T19:23:43.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like A Cold Summer Afternoon...</title><content type='html'>Dear You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today with that funny feeling again. The kind I get when I feel like there's something that's not right. You know? That feeling when you're missing something... Or someone. It's strange that I'm admitting this to you right now because I am missing someone... You. I feel like it's been weeks since we last saw each other or spoken to one another when I just saw you the other day, and we just spoke on the phone a few minutes ago. Truth is, I feel like there is, yet again, something going on between us that we don't talk about. But it could be just me... Or it could be because we're both busy with work and things that we have to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. I guess that's it. We're just too busy. But is this how life is going to be from now on? I hope not. But if it is the case then we would just have to get used to it right? I mean, we dealt with pretty tough things before, this would just be a piece of cake for us. I mean... It would be, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, basically, the point of this letter is simply to tell you something I am too chicken shit to say in person... I miss You. And I love You. Hehe. You're probably not going to get a chance to read this anyway, but there you go... Just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, GayeBar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-115045608365628552?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/115045608365628552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=115045608365628552' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115045608365628552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/115045608365628552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/06/like-cold-summer-afternoon.html' title='Like A Cold Summer Afternoon...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114812020511628121</id><published>2006-05-20T17:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-21T00:46:09.130+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Invited...</title><content type='html'>Again, because of the current circumstances which I cannot freely discuss at the moment... +. Ahehehehehe... I have been doing some thinking. &lt;em&gt;Okay, I've been doing a little more than thinking&lt;/em&gt;... Hehe. Planning is the more appropriate word actually. I have been planning my &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;wedding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's due to the fact that I am inspired... &lt;em&gt;Uuuuuy&lt;/em&gt;... Or maybe I'm just plain bored. But here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Wedding Of The Century&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It all started one afternoon, I was surfing the &lt;a href="http://www.verawang.com"&gt;Vera Wang&lt;/a&gt; website, for a lack of a better thing to do, that I got inspired. I started looking through the literally dozens of beautiful Bridal gowns... These were some of my choices... =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(click on the images for a larger view)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera11f.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera11f.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/vera_20b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/vera_20b.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/vera_17b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/vera_17b.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/ee4dd027.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/ee4dd027.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/9c42525a.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/9c42525a.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" target="_blank" href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/55b9cff8.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/55b9cff8.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/b1025d11.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/b1025d11.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/23000d03.jpgcom" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/23000d03.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/7e3ca0f2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/7e3ca0f2.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/1e61de04.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/1e61de04.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/8b86d87b.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/8b86d87b.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/86a34897.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/86a34897.jpg" width="100" border="0" length="210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After careful thought and comments from my friends who happen to be online, I have the two finalists. Siyempre two dapat para if &lt;em&gt;shit happens&lt;/em&gt; may back up ako. Hahahahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tadaaaaaaaaaaaa...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="+." src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera7f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="+." src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera7b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Gaye Gaye" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera8f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Gaye Gaye" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Vera8b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I like the second one better, but I dunno... There's something so sweet and pure about the first one and I can actually think of someone who'd look perfect in it... &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;+. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hehehehehehe. I like how the color of the second dress is not &lt;em&gt;too&lt;/em&gt; white. Hehehehe. Sabi nga namin ni Armida, parang di kami bagay magsuot ng puting-puti kasi para lang yon sa mga sobrang linis. Hahahahaha! So, for now, I like the second dress... But I'm still holding on to the first one. &lt;em&gt;We never know... +.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now, I also picked a ring that I would like... My &lt;em&gt;engagement ring&lt;/em&gt;. Actually, I think the engagement ring is enough, I don't need a wedding band anymore. Hehehehehe. Kasi sobrang mahal ng mga pinili kong singsing, kawawa naman yung mapapangasawa ko. Mamumulubi na! Hahahahaha! I aslo picked two styles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="+." src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_RG0000800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Tiffany &amp;amp; Co's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The Tiffany Setting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Gaye Gaye" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/harrywinston.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Harry Winston&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Three Diamond Set&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The first one if of course relatively simpler than the second one. Both are equally expensive. Hehehehe! Tiffany at Harry Winston ba naman eh. Haha! I think again, may extremes in my choices just like the dresses. The first ring goes well with the first ring. As for the second style, any of those three Harry Winston rings would do. Hehehehehe! And it also goes with the second dress... Hmmmm... &lt;em&gt;Esep esep&lt;/em&gt;... Hahahahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here are some of the other rings that caught my attention...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/harrywinsto.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/harrywinsto.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/001_4358pl_primary.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 90px" height="104" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/001_4358pl_primary.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_DM02500400.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_DM02500400.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_DM5.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_DM5.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_RG00000800_WB04500300.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_RG00000800_WB04500300.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_DM36500700_RD.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_DM36500700_RD.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_RG00001000_PR.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_RG00001000_PR.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_RG00001000_RD.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_RG00001000_RD.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_other_deco1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_other_deco1.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_three_emddiamonds1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_three_emddiamonds1.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_three_round2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/engagement_three_round2.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_RG0000800.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Bridal%20Gown/Bridal%20Gown/bn_350x350_RG0000800.jpg" width="90" border="0" length="90" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Haaaaay... So many beautiful rings, only ten fingers. Ahehehehehe. Ang labo... Now let's move on to the Bride's Maids dresses. Now personally, I would have loved to have as few as three Bride's Maids, but I think that wouldn't even make a dent on my friends anf family or my fiance's friends and family so I think 9 Bride's Maids including my Maid of Honor ought to be enough. Here are their dresses...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/84271953.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/84271953.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/fc593dda.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/fc593dda.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/e9cba159.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/e9cba159.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/9d2393ec.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/9d2393ec.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/73be84a6.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/73be84a6.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/45db8153.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/45db8153.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/d6c0d0f5.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/d6c0d0f5.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/011b1026.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/011b1026.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/bea4c559.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/bea4c559.jpg" width="80" border="0" length="180" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Again, click on the images for a larger view)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I saw in a TV show once that all the Bride's Maid's dress are supposed to be the same length, but for my wedding, I chose for them not to have the same lengths... And the same dresses for that matter. Also, the colors are not the same. Hehe. Para masaya tignan sa pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now I picked two dresses for my Maid of Honor. Now, I'm not going to go into specifics for now as to who my Maid of Honor and Bride's Maids are going to be. I have to give that a lot of thought first. Hehehehehe. I picked two dresses for my Maid of Honor. Siya na bahala pumili. Hehehehehe. &lt;strong&gt;Btw, all my dresses are Vera Wang. &lt;/strong&gt;Bongga! Hahahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/VeraB11f.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Brides%20Maids/VeraB10f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The flowers... Oooooh... The flowers were hardest to pick along with the cakes. Kasi ang daming magaganda eh... But I've decided that I'm going to fill my wedding with &lt;strong&gt;roses &lt;/strong&gt;and&lt;strong&gt; carnations&lt;/strong&gt;. Roses because it's classic. Its beauty never fades... And carnations because they hold meaning to me. +.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/076_copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;My Bouquet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/wedding_flowers_bridal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;For my Entourage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For my entourage, I just chose simple white roses, for they will be wearing different colored dresses. At least their bouquets will be synchronized.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/FTDC8-3078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The Centerpiece for the Tables&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And the yummiest part of the wedding plans... &lt;strong&gt;The cake&lt;/strong&gt;. Hehehehe! Again, another hard task, since there are about a million delicious cakes in the world. But I've finally decided on one. It's not your typical cake. It's unique. And I love it. Hahahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/Wed100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ironically, this Cake is called Cigarillo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I even found the perfect Wedding Favor. It's an old-fashioned key... Called "Key To My Heart". It's perfect because getting married means, you finally gave that&lt;strong&gt; key&lt;/strong&gt; to someone. And that someone could either heal you or break you. Naks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="This key is yours +." src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/F4806-big.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And finally, where it will all happen... The church. The Wayfarers Chapel is in Rancho Palos Verdes in Los Angeles California. This is where I've always wanted to get married. It's a small chapel that has the most amazing garden. Its walls are made of glass so you can see the beauty outside. I can only imagine walking down the aisle in this chapel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/chapel_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/1004sb_picturei08.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wedding/Flowers%20and%20Cake/Chapel_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Reception will be held just outside the chapel. Underneath the stars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But ultimately, the wedding is about finding someone who you'd want to celebrate that special day with. Someone that will make you wanna sit in front of the computer for 8 straight hours planning The Wedding of the Century. Hehehehe! It's about waking up one day and you realize the search is over. You have found &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the one&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I found you +.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114812020511628121?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114812020511628121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114812020511628121' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114812020511628121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114812020511628121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/05/youre-invited.html' title='You&apos;re Invited...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114616186330121860</id><published>2006-04-28T01:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T02:24:48.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boracay, baby!</title><content type='html'>Okay, to be completely fucking honest... It's been a really tiring past couple of weeks for me. Emotionally, that is. Hehe. So I am off to my haven. For 3 days and 2 nights of the beach, sun, partying, eating and drinking. Ahehehehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am surely will be missed by some. Naks. Ang feeling nampucha! &lt;strong&gt;"Brycee, you'll miss Anang, right?"&lt;/strong&gt; But for those who won't, okay lang. Ahehehehehe. Yuck, bakit ba ang bitchy ko tonight?! Huhuhuhu. =( &lt;em&gt;Siguro, kasi pagod na talaga ako...&lt;/em&gt; Bahala na si Batman! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Lahat naman madali lang kasanayan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I am not an &lt;em&gt;enimal.&lt;/em&gt; Hehehehehe. I'm a person too, goddamit! I'm a person too! Hehe. Yawk! Talagang nag-quote nalang ng mga movies dahil wala nang masabi. Hahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying not to sleep kasi if I do, hindi lang ako magigising. Mas mahirap. Kaya eto, nagt-type ng kung ano-ano... Parang bangag na ewan. I'm probably going to come back from &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boracay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; on Sunday and read this post and delete it dahil sa sobrang walang sense nito. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ikaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes you na nagbabasa right now, kung ako sayo, ic-click ko na yung "x" sa explorer mo or magt-type ng ibang URL kasi napaka-walang sense ng post ko na to. GO!!! Umalis ka na bago ka pa ma-badtrip sa chika ko! Hehehehe! Yuck, ang bitch talaga!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaay... &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Gusto kong umiyak sa totoo lang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pero hindi ko magawa. Which is actually making it all worse, kasi sumasakit lang ulo ko and I still haven't packed for Boracay. Kanina, I was just sitting on my bed, listening to my Ipod and may narining akong ibang songs na talagang &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SOLID!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brick &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;Ben Folds Five&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"can't you see? &lt;u&gt;it's not me you're dying for&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and I'm feeling more alone,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;than i ever have before."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mata&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;strong&gt;Mojofly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"nakita ko na lahat ito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;pinahihiwatig ng mata mo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;salamat na lamang sayo&lt;/u&gt;-hohohohohohoho"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nobela &lt;/strong&gt;by&lt;strong&gt; Join The Club&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"ngumiti kahit na napipilitan&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;kahit na &lt;u&gt;sinasadya&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;mo akong masaktan&lt;/u&gt; paminsan-minsan"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tsssssss... Tama na nga senti! Kalokohan yan! Aksaya lang sa oras ang pagsesenti! Hihihihihi! Pero pakialam niyo ba?! Eh gusto ko eh!!! Shit!!! Gusto ko talaga umiyak right now, kung hindi lang parang multo na pumapasok si &lt;strong&gt;Ate Dr&lt;/strong&gt; dito sa kwarto ni &lt;strong&gt;Ate Girlie Farms&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tsk! You know what's funny? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Meron akong tinetext na someone, niloloko ko lang... And it turns out siya pa yung nakakapag-comfort sa akin. Hahahahaha! Ang weird. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hehehehehe. Ano ba GayGo... Lilipas din to, like any other thing sa buhay mo. One day you'll wake up and parang wala na... Hindi ka na magiging affected.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Yun nga yung kinatatakutan kong mangyari eh... Haaaaay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114616186330121860?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114616186330121860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114616186330121860' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114616186330121860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114616186330121860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/04/boracay-baby.html' title='Boracay, baby!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114597315531142513</id><published>2006-04-25T21:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T21:54:59.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So Kamusta Naman?</title><content type='html'>&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wala%20Lang%20Pics/heart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun lang... Hehehehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114597315531142513?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114597315531142513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114597315531142513' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114597315531142513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114597315531142513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/04/so-kamusta-naman.html' title='So Kamusta Naman?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wala%20Lang%20Pics/th_heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114425141704266336</id><published>2006-04-05T23:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T11:52:38.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you and i</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tsk... tsk... tsk!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the times that we shared together. After all the good times, the bad times. The parties, and senti moments. The alone times we had on the beach, coffee shops, restaurants, back alleys, our terrace and the field... I'm finally gonna let you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My companion. My confidant. My friend. My lover. My partner. My strength. And my &lt;em&gt;Achilles' heel&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to say &lt;em&gt;goodbye&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/marlboro_lights.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;For you +. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114425141704266336?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114425141704266336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114425141704266336' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114425141704266336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114425141704266336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/04/you-and-i.html' title='you and i'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114276084364210805</id><published>2006-03-19T17:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T17:41:09.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not supposed to feel this way...</title><content type='html'>Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun lang ang masasabi ko. Sobrang gulo ng isip ko. Taliwas na taliwas sa nararamdaman ko. Hindi ko na alam kung ano gagawin ko. Sabi nila, itigil na habang maaga pa. Bago pa magkaroon ng mas malaking gulo. Pero pano mo pipigilan ang sarili mo na gumawa ng isang bagay na nakasanayan mo na gawin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang gulo. Ang hirap. Ayoko nang mag-isip. &lt;em&gt;Nakakapagod&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/sinking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;...sabay adik na pala.  Hahahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114276084364210805?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114276084364210805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114276084364210805' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114276084364210805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114276084364210805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/03/its-not-supposed-to-feel-this-way.html' title='it&apos;s not supposed to feel this way...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114171924937991831</id><published>2006-03-07T15:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T16:14:09.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love groceries and supermarkets...  I love walking in the aisles with a push cart.  And meron akong "mood" for something.  Like one day I could buy a whole bunch of facial skin care products, minsan naman for the body, minsan for the hair or minsan for my room.  Basta!  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm a chocco addict.  I swear.  Sobrang mahilig ako sa sweets.  More than mahilig ako sa maalat.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;National Bookstore&lt;/strong&gt; is my haven.  Sobrang laking national tong batang to!  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mahilig ako sa office supplies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!  Hahahahaha!  I looooove notebooks and black pens.  Sobra! So meron akong isang buong kahon na puro notebooks at black pens dito na hindi ko naman ginagamit.  Hehehehe!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love hardware stores as well.  Hihi!  Yung mga Ace Hardware, DIY and stuff.  Hahahaha!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I'm in love, and always will be...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  With my car.  Hahahaha!  &lt;strong&gt;WFY681&lt;/strong&gt; mwaaaaaah!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sometimes, late at night, I do something...  Something that I'm quite ashamed of...  Uhhhh... I take out my old books from college and highschool and I read them.  As in &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;read &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;them.  Grabe, move on pare!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sobrang babaw kong tao.  Sobrang bilis maka-appreciate ng mga bagay bagay.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm also quick to forgive.  Isang kalabit lang okay na lahat.  (Yawk, easy...)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hmmmm...  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Madaling magkagusto pero mabilis din magsawa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  Hahahahaha!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite hobby is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;driving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hmmmm... Wala na akong maisip for now eh. Later naman! Hahahahahaha! Peace.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114171924937991831?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114171924937991831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114171924937991831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114171924937991831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114171924937991831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/03/things-you-probably-didnt-know-about.html' title='Things You Probably Didn&apos;t Know About Me...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114164222111188226</id><published>2006-03-06T15:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T19:04:05.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Switch</title><content type='html'>And for that, after so much thought and many &lt;em&gt;papilits&lt;/em&gt; from my ex-students, I did it. I watched their Legacy concert &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SWITCH!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; And I was so glad I did. Of course, I had many aversions as to why I didn't want to watch. Mainly because there were people in the school I didn't want to see... Ehem ehem! Mangati sana makikinis niyong mukha and magagandang buhok! Hahahaha! And there's also the sadness that comes with leaving the place. Alam niyo yun?! Parang napupunta ako sa school na yon gusto ko kumanta ng, &lt;strong&gt;"this used to be my playground... this used to be my childhood dream."&lt;/strong&gt; Hahahahahaha! And also, ang mga detractors! Choss!!! Dume-detractors?! Haahahahahaha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came with my ever loyal friends, Duday, Dhanikay and Madz. Sobrang saya pa coz we came in for free. As in!!! Siyempre, face value! Hahahahahahah! Akala ng mga tao dun teacher parin ako... Eh teachers get in for free. And since they were with me... Huweeeeell... Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was great! Some of the bands that performed were &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hale&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;b&gt;Waaaah!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="Hale!" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bamboo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="Bamboo!" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And my new favorite band, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Itchy Worms&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="The itchy worms!" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sobrang panalo nung concert! Ang galing galing ng Itchy Worms. It was the first time that I heard them play their other songs live. And of course, Hale. Ehem! Memorize ko lahat ng songs nila... Hahahahaha! And Bamboo! Grabe... Sobrang &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HOT &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;niya, I'm sorry! They played about 12 songs and ang kulit kulit ni Bamboo while performing. Grabe!! They played old Rivermaya hits like, Awit ng Kabataan, Ulan, Kisapmata and Hinahanap-hanap kita! Grabe!!! And for that, we had our picture taken with Bamboo... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="H-O-T!!!" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/bam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;GayGo, Aleena, Duday, BAMBOO, Armi, Madel, Malou and other old AA students.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sabi nga ng mga friends ko, sobrang sulit yung &lt;b&gt;wala&lt;/b&gt; na binayad namin for the concert. Hahahahahaha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Pero it wasn't just the concert that was so da bomb.. It was being back in AA again. Being back with my old students. Yung bigla nalang may sisigaw ng &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"Ms. Gaaaaaaaaaaaye!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; sabay may yayakap at hahalik! Being with them. The kids that I've grown to love even for just a little while. Haaaaaaaaay... I'm so happy that I decided to watch the concert. Kahit na may konting setbacks and parang may kulang... (Ehern... Shet tama na nga Gaye! Pabayaan mo na sila!!!) all in all, it was a good night. A &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;very&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; good night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And here are more pictures of that night... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;My friends and students...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Switch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Duday, Gaye and Dhanikay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gaye, Karen M, Anne, Denise, Raniel, Jessa and Che che&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gaye and Anne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Duday, Madel, Armi and Gaye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/Switch074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Old AA Students na naging AA Teachers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Armi, Aleena, Malou and Gaye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;-SWI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;TCH!-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114164222111188226?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114164222111188226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114164222111188226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114164222111188226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114164222111188226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/03/switch.html' title='Switch'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Switch/th_Switch053.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-114137101830875512</id><published>2006-03-03T13:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T15:34:37.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And for that...</title><content type='html'>...I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been meaning to blog again for quite some time now, but I just, I dunno... Found plenty of excuses. Hehe. First, I thought it would be too hard. I mean, leaving my old job... My officemates/good friends. I wrote this long ass goodbye post with a message for everyone. But I never go to publish it. It was too damn hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started out this new job and a looooooot of things happened again and I just didn't feel like posting again. And lately, I've been thinking of ways to summarize everything that happened to me the past, wait &lt;strong&gt;EIGHT MONTHS&lt;/strong&gt;! Huwaaaaaat?! Has it really been that long? And I have been looking for a new skin for my blog para naman come back with a bang! But haven't found a good enough skin din. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had coffee with my friends last Saturday in Starbucks Marquinton and Karra d' Barra was there, and I told her all my "dilemma" about posting again and she said, "wag ka na mag-sulat ng mga nangyari sa past. Yun nalang sa mga nangyayari sayo ngayon." And for that, I think she's right. Why dwell on that past? Siguro lalabas din naman yong mga nangyari before ng pakonti-konti... Let's just put it this way... Yung &lt;strong&gt;EIGHT MONTHS&lt;/strong&gt; na yon, will be like &lt;strong&gt;my dark months&lt;/strong&gt;. Hahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's sucks though that I have to start my &lt;em&gt;comeback&lt;/em&gt; with a sad post. Well, the past few weeks I've been wanting to post some of my "happy thoughts", pero yun na nga... Katamaran nanaman... So eto. I have to start with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bit dark outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's gonna rain. And you know how I love the rain. The rain always makes me think about certain things... You know, thoughts that I would normally stir away from. Pero, siguro tama na. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Reality check&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Hindi ko na pwedeng takbuhan nalang ng takbuhan ang katotohanan. Because eventually, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;reality&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is gonna come biting me in the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, truth is... I'm feeling alone right now. And I know it's not&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;fair, because I have my friends that I get to talk to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;all day everyday, any damn day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Pero ewan. Parang sometimes nahihiya ako or napipigilan na mag-open up. Siguro kasi feeling ko masyado nang maraming drama ang nararanasan ng mga taong mahal ko na ayoko nang maki-drama pa. They don't need that from me. I love being there for people. I love listening to them and giving them a piece of my mind when they ask... I mean, I even consider myself lucky that people trust me to share their lives with me. Pero minsan, naiisip ko lang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Paano naman ako?...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, hindi ako nagpapaka-&lt;strong&gt;KSP&lt;/strong&gt; na humihingi ng atensyon like some people out there (hmmm... Bato bato sa langit ang tamaan mukhang pera at user!). Haha! Pero ewan ko, parang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;ang unfair lang talaga minsan!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Waaaaaaaah! Ang pathetic talaga ng feeling, I know... Pero I wish that once in a while people could check up on me, for a change. Ask me how I was doing. I mean, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ask. &lt;em&gt;Hindi lang yung para, masabi lang&lt;/em&gt;. Gets? Minsan kailangan ko din maglabas ng sama ng loob. Minsan meron ding mga bagay na nasa loob ko na hindi ko kayang dalhin mag-isa. Pero mahiyaan talaga ako... Hindi rin kasi ako mago-open up unless tanungin ako or unless alam ko na yung taong yon is really&lt;strong&gt;, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; willing to listen, just like I am willing to listen... &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewan ko... Kasi I know I am an adult. And I should do the &lt;em&gt;caring&lt;/em&gt;. Pero nami-miss ko na yung mga oras na ako naman yung inaalagaan... Ako naman yung baby. I miss my soccer friends. I miss the times na isang &lt;em&gt;miscol&lt;/em&gt; ko lang nandiyan na sila Arf, Mark at Jeco, may dala dalang Andok's. Miss ko na ang &lt;strong&gt;date-day Wednesday&lt;/strong&gt; ko with Wong and Den nung college. Miss ko na ang tambay sa Mini Stop with Jinggay, and mga traffic rides pauwi with Enrico from the office. Miss ko na mga nanonood ng movies every Friday night kahit walang magandang palabas with Pog&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying I don't love my life now. I do. I have great friends... Pero... I just miss how simple life was back then. And how I happy I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for the sobrang ma-dramang post. But it's really good to be back. Kasi I think nakalimutan ko na there's actually someone who is there to listen. Someone who will genuinely not forget important facts that I share about myself... You.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-114137101830875512?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/114137101830875512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=114137101830875512' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114137101830875512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/114137101830875512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2006/03/and-for-that.html' title='And for that...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-112036876186515459</id><published>2005-07-03T13:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-03T13:32:41.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gaye, noooooooooooooooooo!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-112036876186515459?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/112036876186515459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=112036876186515459' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/112036876186515459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/112036876186515459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/07/falling.html' title='Falling?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111693990251257821</id><published>2005-05-24T19:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T23:50:35.120+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabi ko nga eh...</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday was a big day. Well, for me at least. I just decided to get the hell out of the house and have my hair fixed. Yes, fixed. I've been complaining that my hair jas been confused for the past couple of weeks now and I thought it's about time I did something about it... Before it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:30 PM David's Salon Mega Mall&lt;br /&gt;GayGo: Miss, gano katagal magpa-semi rebond?&lt;br /&gt;Miss Davids Salon Girl: Madali lang, mga 2 hours lang.&lt;br /&gt;GayGo: Ah ganon ba? O sige...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:15 PM David's Salon Mega Mall&lt;br /&gt;Ate Girlie: (Shouting) Nasan ka na? Ihahatid mo pa ako!!!&lt;br /&gt;GayGo: (Whispering) Nandito pa ako, hindi pa tapos... Sabi kasi nung babae, 2 hours lang eh.&lt;br /&gt;Ate Girlie: Basta umalis ka na diyan!&lt;br /&gt;GayGo: Eh bino-blower pa nila ako! Ate, pwede?!&lt;br /&gt;Ate Girlie: Ah basta, naiinis ako sayo!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There goes yet again, another classic fight between me and Ate Girls. Hahahahahaha! At medyo matinding away ito because she was giving me the cold shoulder for 2 days... Pero okay na ngayon, actually I'm in her room right now kasi nandito yung DSL. Hehehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home from taking Ate Girlie to work at around 10:00. I left to go to my friend Duday's house for a get together in behalf of our other friend Florence because papa Jello went to the states and she's lonely. Grabe I missed my friends. Even if we don't see each other for a loooooong time, when we do see each other, parang walang nagbago. Tama nga ang sabi ni Ate Iris, &lt;i&gt;nothing is constant in this world but your high school friends&lt;/i&gt;. And to think I almost didn't come because I was so tired from sitting on a stone cold chair for 4 freaking hours with 2 or 3 people pulling on my hair. Pero it was all worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the ggurls, &lt;i&gt;ulitin natin ito next week, okay? Kila karra naman daw.&lt;/i&gt; Thank God at hindi na ako &lt;i&gt;loser sched&lt;/i&gt; at Sat-Sun na ang off ko. Yahoooooooo. Here are some pics of that get together. And for Kisa, who wasn't there and who is in the States, here's how long and how straight my hair looks now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/P5210936.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gay, Fifi and Flo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/P5220955.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Flo, Duday, Dimps, Karra, Karen, Gay and Fifi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/P5220960.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Karen, Gay and Fifi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/P5210941.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Burn, Dimps, Gay and Duday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/jayandgay.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;JayGo and GayGo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/P5220952.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gay, Papa Paul, Jay and Karen&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;See you next weekend guys! Sana lahat ulit kayo makita ko. Wink wink! =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111693990251257821?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111693990251257821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111693990251257821' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111693990251257821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111693990251257821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/05/sabi-ko-nga-eh.html' title='Sabi ko nga eh...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Totoong%20Pics/th_P5210936.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111596803218434083</id><published>2005-05-13T07:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-18T06:40:50.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>Boy: Kasi sometimes, you're so cyinical.&lt;br /&gt;Gurl: Eh ayun nalang ang namang ang mapupuntahan mo diba? You block out good thoughts to keep yourself ready when bad things come. You believe in lies so the truth wouldn't hurt as much. You ask for piece of candy because you know you'll never get the cake.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: What about your happiness?&lt;br /&gt;Gurl: Sino nagsabi na hindi ako masaya? I'm living my dream life. &lt;u&gt;No worries, no pain, no heartache.&lt;/u&gt; There must come a time when one should realize that happiness is overrated.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Ano kaya gagawin mo if you discover you and me... And if you discover this dream is for two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Parang narinig ko na yun ah... Hahahahaha...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero kasi, ayun na nga... Hindi niyo ba napapansin na parang mas madaling maging bitter and sad kaysa maging masaya? Parang being happy is a lot of work! Kaya addicting ang pagiging bitter eh... Kasi parang meron tayong mga switch na automatic nati-trigger ng napakaliit na bagay.  Tulad ng ulan.  Tulad ng malulungkot na kanta.  Tulad ng Dream Sounds ng WAVE.  Ewan ko ba kung bakit, pero feeling ko by default malulungkot talaga ang mga tao. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're wrong.  We are the same.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111596803218434083?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111596803218434083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111596803218434083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111596803218434083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111596803218434083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/05/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111571848231852906</id><published>2005-05-10T17:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T17:59:19.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wala%20Lang%20Pics/Gloomyday2.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, sitting here on my sister's bed, chatting with a couple of friends, searching nice pictures on Google, it finally came. My oasis. It started to rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After weeks of suffering from heat, I heard the rain pouring on our roof. I love it. I love the rain. Many memorable things, (good and bad) happened to me while it was raining. I can't remember exactly all of the things that happened, but I remember how it made me feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how everything turns gray whenever it's raining. It's like everything mellows down and decides to blend in, leaving me to my thoughts to think about the more important things. Most people would say that a rainy day is gloomy. And that it's sad. But it doesn't make me sad at all. The rain is my break. My oasis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that moment when it starts to rain, and everything turns from really hot to really cold. And you feel cold sweat trickling down my legs and everything becomes moist. I even love the sound of rain that seems to want to destroy the roof of my car. It's a good background music when I'm reading or listening to Wave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love the rain.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111571848231852906?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111571848231852906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111571848231852906' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111571848231852906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111571848231852906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/05/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Wala%20Lang%20Pics/th_Gloomyday2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111552373190742877</id><published>2005-05-08T11:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T17:16:58.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Attention friends&lt;/strong&gt;: It's coming soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/harrypotter6_HR.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in National Bookstore Market Market! yesterday and I saw the cover for the first time. This is it. This is really it, friends. After two years of waiting. Waaah! I can't take it! July is so far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look... &lt;a href="http://www.nationalbookstore.com/banner.asp?id2=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="50" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/harry_banner.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111552373190742877?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111552373190742877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111552373190742877' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111552373190742877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111552373190742877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/05/harry-potter-and-half-blood-prince.html' title='Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111527644718510903</id><published>2005-05-05T09:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T13:10:22.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>After a looooong hiatus from blogging, I'm back friends. I actually got at email from a girl in Japan, she's Pinay, asking why the heck I don't update my freaking blog. The reason, is simple and concise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm one boring girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not been blogging because there is nothing to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;JOKE!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, there are quite a lot of things to blog about, but time just didn't permit it. And my freaking laptop is &lt;em&gt;sira&lt;/em&gt;. But it's all good now. I gave it over to my tech guru &lt;a href="http://madalas.magalas.org"&gt;Jett da-met&lt;/a&gt;. Ahehehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, where do I begin? Ahhhhhhh... My cousin 14 year old Pipoy stayed in our house for 1 month. He didn't go home with his brothers after they came back from Bicol after Holy Week, which by the way, I wasn't able to go to because there is no more freakin allocation for Hosting. Anyway, he stayed in my room for the whole freaking month. He slept on the bed on the floor. &lt;em&gt;Can you believe it?&lt;/em&gt; I was able to share my sacred ground with another human being for one whole month without and I didn't go insane! Of course, there were times when having him there kind of became a little inconvenient. He was always around. You would think he'd want some privacy, but he didn't! Aaaargh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I miss the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;little booger&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Having him here made me want a little brother. Or a little sister. I think I'd make a pretty decent big sister actually. Little Booger was actually spoiled by me. I gave him everything he wanted. Well not &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; because then I'd run out money, which I'm getting pretty good at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the records: &lt;strong&gt;I think I became more broke now than I was when I was still in school. Haaaaay... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kawawa naman ako...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we went to Puerto Galera, for my parents Wedding Anniversary week. It was fun if not for the pesky jelly fish stings. And we got to hook up with our oooooold family friends whom I haven't seen in a reeeeeally long time. The last time I saw &lt;a href="http://karruh.tk"&gt;Kara&lt;/a&gt; and Tania, they were still so small.  And it was the first time I ever saw Lexie.  (Sorry if mali spelling!)  Ang galing galing.  They were still babies the last time I saw them.  Aaaaaw.  Now their practically young ladies.  I found myself having fun hanging out with them the whole trip than most of the people my age.  Hahahahaha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, went to Baguio also.  Ang saaaaraaaap.  It's so lamig!  Had so much fun.  Kahit na 9 freaking people had to squeeze in our tiny condo, &lt;em&gt;kerry lang&lt;/em&gt;.  I wish I could take Jing, Rico, Cai, Mean Jean and Cris there.  Di naman sila mga high maintenance na tao eh.  Di sila mgiinarte kahit &lt;strong&gt;bahay namin, maliit lamang... pero, pero, pero malinis to pati sa Cusina Fort.&lt;/strong&gt;  Labo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dropped off Pipoy in Dagupan.  My other cousin on my mother's side Genevie was broken into pieces.  They shared some pretty magical moments, and I think not having to see them everyday would be hard for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo...  There freinds.  Those were the highlights of the past few weeks of my goddam life!  I have a so important chika pa... But maybe later.  Tatah! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111527644718510903?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111527644718510903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111527644718510903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111527644718510903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111527644718510903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/05/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111362586495334472</id><published>2005-04-16T12:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-16T12:31:04.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinny</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Won Bin Voted Favorite Asian Star &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;15 Apr 2005&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;KFCC Feature&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Pinny/th01.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" align="right" height="275" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actor Won Bin has topped the list in the Favorite Asian Stars category of the 2005 Most Adorable Men poll conducted by the famous Japanese fashion magazine Anan. Of the 15,038 respondents, 1,080 chose Won as their pick. The results of the poll were published in the May edition of the magazine on April 13th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The runner-up was Park Yong-ha (894 votes), followed by Bae Yong-jun (813 votes), Hong Kong star Tony Leung (625 votes), and Lee Byung-heon (530 votes). Four of the top-5 Favorite Asian Stars were Korean hallyu stars, whose popularity is remaining as high as before despite the strained relations between Korea and Japan over the Dokdo issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Most Adorable Men category of the same-titled poll, the top spot was taken by the Japanese star Kimura Takuya for the 12th consecutive year. He also topped the Man You Want to Embrace the Most and Best Lover lists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111362586495334472?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111362586495334472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111362586495334472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111362586495334472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111362586495334472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/04/pinny.html' title='Pinny'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Pinny/th_th01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111354175642082627</id><published>2005-04-15T06:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-15T13:13:27.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Always (cont...)</title><content type='html'>She walked in to their apartment at around 1:30 in the morning. It was dark, but it didn't feel dark. For Paige, the house was all lit with wonderful memories of her and Ian. In her mind, she could see Ian desperately trying to cook her breakfast. She could see herself sitting on the living room couch reading a book with Ian sleeping on her lap. She could smell the paint as she and Ian painted their calendar wall. This place became her source of joy for the past weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears fell from her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She slowly walked toward their sofa and sat on her favorite spot beside the lamp. She was trying to remember how everything looked and felt. At least she could hold on to that. She looked at the picture that she took of her and Ian by the patio. She remembered how good it felt to have her arm around Ian's neck. How good he smelled. Their smiles on the photo was sincere. She thought about what Ian said about pictures. How it was a like a book without words, of people's good experiences. How every photo is a memory of one good moment to another. &lt;em&gt;You never take pictures when you're sad, or having a bad day, &lt;/em&gt;he said, &lt;em&gt;for me personally, people with many photo albums are the happiest. &lt;/em&gt;She laughed at this thought before, but now, she wished she'd taken more pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Paige," she said standing up. "Memory lane is closed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She placed the picture back on the side table, but it fell straight to the hardwood floor. The wooden frame fell apart, fortunately the glass didn't break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kneeled down and started picking up the pieces of the picture frame. The frame was not damaged, it was just dismantled. Paige thought it was a little funny. Was it a sign from God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Funny," she said smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While picking up the picture, she notices a small 4 by 4 envelope that was sealed about 5 times with tape. She flipped the envelope over and written on it was "Don't open until our 30th annviersary!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like a punch in the gut for Paige. Her eyes started to form tears, but she was smiling. She couldn't believe that there was a time when Ian thought they'd last 30 years. It was overwhelming. It was overwhemingly painful. Wait... No, it was just painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, looks like our 3oth anniversary won't be happening," Paige tore the sides of the envelope, "so what the hell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a note written on the yellow cardboard coaster of David's club. It read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;7/26/04 You've never looked more beautiful tonight. And I've never been more in love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paige started to cry. And not just tears falling slowly, but really bawling. She couldn't breathe. Ian wrote that note 2 weeks ago from today. The night they spent with their hands super glued together.  The night they spent in each others arms.  The night they made love in his hole.  The night Ian realized he was falling in love with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That night had been a complete waste.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111354175642082627?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111354175642082627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111354175642082627' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111354175642082627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111354175642082627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/04/for-always-cont.html' title='For Always (cont...)'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111302470606552035</id><published>2005-04-09T13:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T13:31:46.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Full House</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Attention Friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;May nakatalo na po sa Meteor Garden as my all time # 1 Asian Series.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Full%20House/Full_House_Cast_2.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought it would be possible, pero &lt;em&gt;yes&lt;/em&gt; mga kaibigan, tinalo niya ang Meteor Garden.  Parang ang sarap pala ng kilig na tumatawa ka, kesa kilig na naiiyak.  Hehehe.  So ngayon ang rating na ng Favorite Asian Series ko ay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Full House&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Meteor Garden&lt;br /&gt;3. The Poor Prince&lt;br /&gt;4. Love Storm&lt;br /&gt;5. A Promise of Love at the Dolphin Bay&lt;br /&gt;6. Lavender&lt;br /&gt;7. Meteor Garden 2&lt;br /&gt;8. Mars&lt;br /&gt;9. Lovers in Paris&lt;br /&gt;10. Endless Love Autumn in my Heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy!!!  Sobrang kilig.  Haaaaay...  Hehehehe!  One day I'm going to have my own &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Full House&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Full%20House/full07.jpg" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111302470606552035?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111302470606552035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111302470606552035' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111302470606552035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111302470606552035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/04/full-house.html' title='Full House'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y133/gaygo/Full%20House/th_Full_House_Cast_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111259264289796395</id><published>2005-04-04T10:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T17:02:47.226+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;...like a new snow falling, softly, 'round me. &lt;strong&gt;A second chance to make things all right&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little suprised when I saw him outside our house. &lt;em&gt;Am I dreaming?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I came to return the books my sister borrowed," he said softly with a shy smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, okay..." I tried to smile sincerely, but seeing him just made me want to come up to him and put my arms around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened the gate. He walked in. It felt strange that I had to open the gate for him when he just freely walks in and out before. We sat on the chairs outside by the freaky plants. I didn't want to make him come in because I knew he wouldn't stay long. I don't want to impose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, how've you been?" He asked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm owk. My cousins are here... I have a new sched... It gives me time to do stuff in the afternoon..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Talaga? Hassle! Bakit ngayon pa? Hehehehehe!" His laugh was sincere. It made me wonder if I laughed along with him, he'd notice I'd been enjoying our 3 minutes together and get iritated. "So how's work?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eto... Magreresign na ako."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha? Sure ka? Eh di good for you!" he said. "Where do you plan to transfer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wala pa... I'm still going to look..." Then I told him all my plans. He was listening intently. Looking straight into my eyes. It was weird. Having him close again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not happy with your work anymore?" he asked. "Eh just a few months ago you seemed so happy there. What about you're friends? Quitting would be like going back to square one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Salamat sa suporta ah! Manakot ba?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know it's going to be hard as hell," I sighed. "But as Jinggay always said, if you're literally dragging yourself to work, eh di quit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Grabe ka naman!" he said jokingly. I can see his effort in trying to lighten my mood. "Talaga lang ah, you're literally dragging yourself to work?! Hahahahaha!" Then he did an imitation of someone trying to carry himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled. It was nice to hear his laugh again. Although at the back of my head, I was afraid that all of this could be another dream. Another tricks my mind plays with my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think I'm making a mistake?" I asked him. "Do you think I should just tough it out?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His face became serious. He looked straight at me with obvious concern in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think if it's causing your eyes to look as tired and sad as they are now, then quit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nahiya naman ako... I turned away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hay nako..." I sighed. "I hate when people say that. It's just their polite way of saying &lt;em&gt;you look like shit.&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hahahahahaha! Wala akong sinabing ganyan ah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed. I looked at my watch. I was silently praying that if this night were to end, let it end now, while we're having fun. &lt;em&gt;Please let me have a good memory of this night. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bakit?" he asked, "may lakad ka ba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhhh... Wala," I said. "Magma-mass kasi kami."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood up, ready to leave. He was doing that thing with his face again. Yung nakakunot noo niya. That's exactly how he looks when I wake him up. It was like ruining a bad moment for him. &lt;em&gt;Ooooy, feel na feel mo naman, GayGo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige, I'll leave na..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started fixing his shirt. I wanted to ask him something... &lt;em&gt;Why are you here? Why didn't you greet me on my birthday. Why now?&lt;/em&gt; He put his hand inside his pocket. I could hear his hand searching for his car keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;GayGo, no! Tumahimik ka! Subukan mo lang...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige ah..." he started walking towards the gate. "Thanks nalang for the book ah..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Gaygo wag! Wag na wag mong sasabihin... Bad spirit, lumayo ka!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had his foot oustide the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Teka!!!" I called out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned towards me, I don't know if I was imagining it, but I thought he smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bakit?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;GayGo, ano ka ba?! Para kang tanga! Sabihin mo wala! Just say goodbye! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhhh... Nagsimba ka na?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hehe, hindi pa nga eh..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awkward moment ever. Parang di ko na alam talaga kung ano sasabihin kong next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wag mo na sabihin yung alam kong gusto mo sabihin. Wag na wag mong sasabihin...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gusto mo mag-mass?" I tried to look adorable. But really, I felt like throwing up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige!" He quickly closed the gate and walked back towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Magbibihis lang ako, wait lang, pasok ka muna."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came up the stairs.  He waited oustide by the memorable couch kung saan nagunaw ang mundo ko before.  He was watching TV.  Gulintang naman ang mga tao sa bahay diba?  He rode with us on the way to church.  Suprisingly, we were early kasi mabilis nagsikilos lahat and we had a place to sit.  Ayan nanaman... Naamoy ko nanaman siya.  &lt;em&gt;Haaaaay...&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the offering, they played my favorite mass song.  (I'm not sure about the lyrics ah... This is purely from memory.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take and receive oh Lord, my liberty&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take all my will, my heart, my memory&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All things I own&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And all I own are thine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thine was the gift to thee&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I all reside&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do thou direct&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And govern all and sway&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do what thou wilt c&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;ommand&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I obey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Only thy grace&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thine love on me bestow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;These make me rich&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All else will I forego&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobra akong na-sad sa kanta.  Feeling ko naiiyak na ako.  It was so &lt;em&gt;swak&lt;/em&gt; kasi to what I'm going through right now.  Parang hindi ko na alam kung ano gusto kong gawin and parang ang sarap nalang isurrender lahat and bahala na kung ano mang will ni God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me while the song was playing kasi he gave me a P20 bill para ibigay sa nagko-collect like he always used to.  Natawa ako ng konti kasi parang nung bata ako na yung mom or dad ko yung nagaabot sakin ng barya para may mabigay ako sa collection.  Hahahaha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Again, napaka-familiar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, bat ganyan mukha mo?"  he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;React naman ang lola mo, "Ano?!  Huh, eh bakit ganyan mukha mo?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He laughed then pinched my right ear.  He was sitting by left so in order for him to  touch my right ear, he had to slightly put his arm around me.  Naks!  Slight lang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hehe, I mean, bakit para kang iiyak?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bakit ba nangenge-alam ka?" I rolled my eyes at him, (he knew I was kidding), and he laughed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the peace be with you part, he kissed me sa cheek.  Waaaaaaaaah!  Ano ba!  Nakaka-asar!  Pero sa totoo lang, during that time, no pun intended na talaga lahat ang cherva ko.  Masarap mang isipin na, &lt;em&gt;yun na nga,&lt;/em&gt; pero heller!  Magtigil dabaa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, siya na ang nag-drive.  We decided to buy some Baliwag for dinner nalang sa house.  Usap-usap...  Nag-comment siya sa CR-V bakit ang dumi-dumi daw.  And hindi siya naniniwala na hindi chameleon ang color.  Hehehehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home after we bought the chicken, I just suddenly sang &lt;em&gt;New Snow.&lt;/em&gt;  It was sang kasi in Eastwood by someone during the Wave Anniversary Party.  I just suddenly remembered it.  The lyrics go... &lt;em&gt;Like the new snow, falling...  New love is falling....  A second chance to make things all right...  Make things all right... &lt;/em&gt;I know, I know... Not a good song to sing with HIM sitting right beside me, pero promise unconsciously ko yun nagawa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo, I visit your blog everyday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gulat ako!  What a thing to say... Waaaaaaaah! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Talaga?" I said then slapping my forhead with my hand.  "Nakakahiya naman!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was smiling, but he was serious.  (Ngek!  Parang ang labo dabaaa?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parang nafi-feel ko nga na confused ka," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiet lang ako.  Oh my Lord, are we going to have &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; talk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Di naman masyado..." I said.  "I just feel like I need a change. Hindi na ako masaya sa buhay ko ngayon." &lt;em&gt;Teka, napaka-suicidal ata ng dating nun ah.  &lt;/em&gt;"I mean sa mga nangyayari sa buhay ko..."  &lt;em&gt;At shempre biglang pahabol pa&lt;/em&gt;... "Work-wise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ikaw lang naman ang nagco-control ng happiness mo diba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wushuuuu... Not all the time.  Hehe! Love you!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just want a second chance," sabi ko for God knows bakit.  "I deserve a second chance naman, diba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me, (at shempre dapat may drama pang kasama!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo naman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakuuuuuu...  Ano ba ito.  Lord, why me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111259264289796395?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111259264289796395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111259264289796395' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111259264289796395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111259264289796395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/04/new-snow.html' title='New Snow'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111239259120276266</id><published>2005-04-02T05:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T05:58:13.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madel!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;...I don't want to say goodbye, I'm gonna miss you so much.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mariel Carissa Bietrice Audential Villanueva - Camua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh my God!!! I can't take it! Kisaaaaaaaaaaaa... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Kisa, just flew to the States for good last Tuesday. I was chatting with her, asking her when she was leaving, then she jokingly said "tomorrow". Of course, I didn't believe her. But then after a few seconds she said, "Oh my God, I'm leaving tomorrow na!!!" They were wait listed for a while, and she just got the confirmation right then as we were chatting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh my God!!! I can't take it! Kisaaaaaaaaaaaa... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We've known each other since Grade 1. We've been kabarkadas since 1st year High School. Kisa's moving to the States to live there for good and marry his forever boyfriend Alex. I'm happy for Kisa. I know that not being away from Alex for the past weeks is hard for Kees. And let's face it, they'll have a much better future there, than here in the Phils. But why do they have to move there so soon. Waaaaaaaaah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Madeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I remember sleeping over at Kisa's house every Friday when we were in second year and third year. I don't exactly know why we started calling each other Madel (which FYI is the name of our other kabarkada), but dabaaaaa, just imagine having a pet name for each other that is actually another person's name. I wonder how Madel feels about that. Hehe.&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I remember Kisa and I had a song. Only Wanna Be With You by Roswel. Everytime that song is played on Magic 89.9's Sunday Slow Down, I'd call Kisa or Kisa would call me and we'd say, "Madel, they're playing our song."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aaaaaaaaaw, Madeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;But I am happy for Kisa, even if I'm going to miss her terribly. She's getting married to the one she loves. She has a goal. More importantly, she has a plan. And she's acting out that plan. Here are my wishes for you, Kees. I wish you happiness most of all. There are going to be tough times. Especially when loneliness begins to creep in. There will come a time when you will miss the good'ol Philippines and wish you were driving in the traffic of EDSA rather than the freeways of LA. But it's okay... Just remember that you can call and or Email us anytime. (Btw, bumili ka na ba ng Cingular na sim? Hehe!) And even if we cannot physically be there with you, but we're there in spirit. Waaaaaaah! Katakot! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that you and Alex have a wonderful marriage. Always be considerate of one another. And don't forget to appreciate the silliest things. Remember that your secret weapon is each other. You give each other strength. You live for one another. And even if it's baduy, but believe in the concept, "all you need is love." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most of all, I wish things between us, Gandas, will never change. Even we won't see each other for a long time, I hope when you come back you're still my Madel. Hehe. And I wish you'd keep us posted with what goes on with your life. Basta, we'll see each other when I go there, Madel. Hindi pwedeng hindi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you so much Kees. I miss you already. =(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111239259120276266?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111239259120276266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111239259120276266' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111239259120276266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111239259120276266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/04/madel.html' title='Madel!!!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111083066744471834</id><published>2005-03-15T03:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T04:04:27.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'>March</title><content type='html'>I just realized that I only have one post for the month of March.  Na-sad naman ako...  Lately, parang tinatamad lang talaga ako.  Parang napaka-none sense ng buhay ko.  I don't have a drive to do anything at all.  Not even to crack a FINAMA book and review a bit.  Hey, August is not too far away.  Not to even recap everything that happened this month.  Or the past month.  Coz God knows a lot of things happened.  Pero wala...  Wala...  Wala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work today and I was chatting with my friends Kisa and Dimple.  Kisa is leaving for the States to be with her fiance and, well actually to live there na nga eh.  Forever!  Waaaaah!  &lt;em&gt;Madeeeeel&lt;/em&gt;...  Funny, how the more I think that she's leaving for good, the more I remember things that happened between us in the past.  How I'd always sleepover at her place during Fridays when we were in third year I think.  How we call each other &lt;em&gt;Madel.&lt;/em&gt;  Which is the name of our other kabarkada.  Hahahahahaha!  Weird!  Pero that's our pet name for each other.  Haaaay...  I'm going to miss you so much &lt;em&gt;Madel.&lt;/em&gt;  I know we'll still see each other, pero iba parin talaga diba?  Basta!  We'll see each other there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Dimps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dimps asked for the URL of my blog and I think she might've read the entire thing.  From my first to last post.  Hehehehe.  &lt;em&gt;Para yang crash course to what's been happening to my life, Dimps.&lt;/em&gt;  I told her to leave a comment and she did.  Here's a part of what she wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"anyway gaye, dont be sad!!! i can feel some sadness inyou!!! just make me chika if your sad... i know even if may bf na ko and we are in different situations na ngayon, i still understand what u are feeling... har har....... any way, touch pa rin ako kasi magsasalita ako sa funeral mo... I hope that i'd live longer than you... anyway, gimik tayo!!! dmps"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala lang, na-touch lang ako sa sinabi niya.  (I can't take it! Umiiyak ako habang nagt-type! Hehehehe.)  She's right.  I am sad.  Sabi nila, learn to be happy and thankful with what you have, pero iba kasi when you experience having &lt;em&gt;IT&lt;/em&gt; and then all of a sudden, you don't have it anymore.  Ang sakit kasi isipin na, &lt;em&gt;eh dati akin yan eh...&lt;/em&gt;  Minsan iniisip ko na sana hindi nalang nangyari lahat.  Eh di at least I wouldn't long for it.  I actually read through all my previous posts one by one before writing this.  It's now 3:53 in the morning.  Na-realize ko na yung buhay ko before, kahit na it seemed uneventfull, masaya parin.  At least hindi ako nangungulila.  At least ang pinaka-malaking problema ko be before is san ako kakain with Pog and anong papanoorin naming movie?  Eh ngayon, maibabalik ko pa ba yung mga araw na yon? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, the past few months I've been absent in most gatherings with my friends dahil narin sa preoccupied ako.  Ngayon na &lt;em&gt;wala na&lt;/em&gt;, could I go back to them and act like I've been there the whole time?  The truth is, the life that I was trying for is over.  The life that I had is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So where do I go from here?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some would say, I always have a choice.  But do they have any idea how difficult it is to choose how to live your life?  Do they have any idea how hard it is to stop yourself from doing something you've been so used to doing? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I envy them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because Kees and Dimps are in a relationship...  But because right now they have already begun living their lives the way they choose to.  They're making it happen.  And as for me?  I'm still trying to fathom what I can do to get my life back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS:  &lt;a href="http://eventuallypretty.blogspot.com"&gt;Patty&lt;/a&gt;, I'm sorry this is not one of my cheery-ier posts.  Hehehehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111083066744471834?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111083066744471834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111083066744471834' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111083066744471834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111083066744471834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/03/march.html' title='March'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-111022645915661139</id><published>2005-03-08T03:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T05:33:35.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Guess who's back, back again... GayGo's back. Tell a friend. Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang kulit dabaaaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right friends, after ilang linggo na walang post, I'm vack... With a vengeance. Char! Well, it's been a long hiatus for me, mga kaibigan. A lot of things happened to me in those two weeks. I lost someone. I got something back. I really rather not talk about the former. Basta all I can say is... &lt;em&gt;He's the perfect guy, and I'm not the perfect girl. Someday, we all would end up with someone who would complement us. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, tama na ang kalungkutan. Mga kaibigan, after one month of absence, nagbalik na po siya with a vengeance. (Vengeance is the word of the day!) CR-V is back! At kulay gray na po siya. Well, ang street name niya ay &lt;em&gt;gray&lt;/em&gt; pero ang technical name niya ay &lt;em&gt;Ashton Silver.&lt;/em&gt; Pinagaya ko yung color nung Gen 2 na 4x4 pero mas light ang color ni CR-V. At pinalinis ko din ang loob. Sa mga nagrereklamo na madumi forever... Hmmmm... I'd post some pictures next time. By the way, na-realize ko na wala akong pictures ni CR-V nung red pa siya. Konti lang, mga dalawa lang ata na nasa background pa siya. Huhuhuhu. I'd post the pics next time. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At yun na nga, nalipat na ako ng team. Hosting na ako. I signed up kasi may free &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;domnem nem/dominion name/domen nem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; daw. AND hosting package, yahoooooo! Hehehehe! Kaya I'm thinking kung ano ba, ano ba o ano ba ang ireregister ko. Actually, we're in training right now. Nage-FTP kami ng cherva sa chenelin. Hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, ano pa ba ang chika ng mundo ko... AH!!! Napanood ko na ang &lt;em&gt;Lovers in Paris, &lt;/em&gt;at opo mga kaibigan, nagustuhan ko siya. Masaya kasi and hindi nakakasakit ng puso tulad ng ibang series. Yung kontra-bidang babae, I forgot her name, must be the WORST kontra-bida ever. Napaka-wala niyang bearing. Hahahaha! Wala man lang natatakot sa kanya. Isa lang ata ang nag-succeed niyang Evil Plan sa buong series. Wahahaha! Nalungkot din ako for Martin. &lt;strong&gt;It really hurts for you to give everything that you have to someone, and for that person to not want it.&lt;/strong&gt; Pero ganon talaga. Hindi naman kasi mapipilit ang love diba? Pero go Carlo and Vivian! You guys rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At ano pa ba...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Kids, help naman o... Suggest naman kayo ng bagay na &lt;strong&gt;Dominion Name&lt;/strong&gt; for me. Sige na... Pretty please. Comment nalang kayo ha... (Btw, sana nga may free Dominion Name, kasi baka nagfufumiling lang ako.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-111022645915661139?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/111022645915661139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=111022645915661139' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111022645915661139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/111022645915661139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/03/just-here.html' title='Just Here'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110889793562736150</id><published>2005-02-20T14:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T19:39:12.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatigued</title><content type='html'>I think I heard someone say once that no one can ever be &lt;em&gt;over fatigued&lt;/em&gt;. He or she said that when someone is fatigued, it is like saying that the person has literally no more energy or some shit like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister emailed me a test to take to see if you are stressed. There are three pictures. The email says, the speed of the pictures' movements in your eyes determine the level of stress you are feeling. The faster the movement, the more stressed you are. It also said that lunatics see those pictures literally spinning around. And that kids and seniors see them still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... Interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/Stress/The_latest_works1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one only moves when I blink my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/Stress/The_latest_works2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one doesn't move much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/Stress/The_latest_works3.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is moving like crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It scared me a bit at first. I really didn't feel tired at all. Okay, I had problem sleeping because I had a lot to think about and I had a monster Starbucks coffee with the Crew 211 last night. Well, I had a lot to think about mainly because of them. They gave me some pretty good things to ponder on about stuff that are going on in my life. They really listened to me. I don't know why I've been so afraid to open up to them. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Crew 211, you guys are the best!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up this morning, I admit it was forced, but I felt rested nonetheless. Had a little problem with the gate of the Mysterious vehicle because my mom and dad brought the key, AYOS! But it was fine. I was late, but then again, what else is new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why am I stressed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's one of those things that you don't really have and when someone tells you that you have it, you start feeling like you really do have it. Hmmm... Like &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;cancer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;When someone has cancer, you get chemotherapy. Well how do we know that cancer is not caused by chemotherapy, did you ever think about that?&lt;/strong&gt; Hmmm... Food for thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But see... I am tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of all this "I'm doing okay" crap. Because I'm not. I just want to have one day of not thinking about it. I'm done thinking. Thinking doesn't get me anywhere. Thinking only sinks me deeper and deeper until I only get a glimpse of the dying light. I'm tired. And I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110889793562736150?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110889793562736150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110889793562736150' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110889793562736150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110889793562736150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/02/fatigued.html' title='Fatigued'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110837772439827596</id><published>2005-02-14T16:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T18:42:04.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentines Day?</title><content type='html'>Dahil araw ng mga puso...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit ba napaka-big deal ng punyetang araw na to?  I teenk, wala namang historical na nangyari sa araw na to.  Hindi ipinanganak si Hesus, hindi namatay si Hitler at hindi rin na-discover ang apoy.  Historically, napaka-&lt;em&gt;wala lang&lt;/em&gt; ng araw na ito.  Pero bakit napa-&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BIG DEAL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;ng araw na ito?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kasi...  Merong isang evil na tao na bigla nalang nag-decide na "teka, gagawa nga ako ng isang conspiracy na maloloko lahat ng tao."  I bet, ang evil na taong ito ay nagmamay-ari ng &lt;strong&gt;flowershop&lt;/strong&gt; o di kaya'y &lt;strong&gt;Hallmark&lt;/strong&gt;.  I bet Valentines Day is just another scheme for some dirty old geeser to make money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the more important question is, why are we going along with it?  Bakit tayo pumapayag magpaloko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah eh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kasi gusto rin naman kasi natin ng &lt;em&gt;excuse&lt;/em&gt;.  Alam niyo yon...  Gusto natin ng dahilan para ipangalandakan sa mundo ma meron tayong &lt;em&gt;papa&lt;/em&gt; o &lt;em&gt;mama&lt;/em&gt;.  Para sa may mga kabiyak...  Eh pano naman yung mga wala?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewan ko ba...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inaamin ko.  Kahit na I know better (na isang evil na mayamang may ari ng flowershop or hallmark and pasimuno ng lahat ng kalokohang ito), I also want to be a part of it.  Gusto ko ring maka-tanggap ng bulaklak.  Gusto ko ring maki-sabay sa traffic ng lahat ng taong nagkakandarapa sa paghahanap ng restaurant na makakainan.  I want it all.  The whole fucking conspiracy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero ganun talaga...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalawa lang naman ang maari mong maramdaman sa araw na ito eh...  Either, incredibly happy and excited.  Or sad and depressed.  And why?  Because it's Valentines day.  &lt;strong&gt;Everything you have or don't have seems overwhelming.&lt;/strong&gt;  If you're happy, it gets magnified a million times.  If you're sad, it gets magnified a million times as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, like my friend Ces said to me last night, "&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Smile gay, this day is not only for couples."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  Exactly.  You know the evil guy who invented all this never said that you can only give flowers and cards to your better halves.  Pati sa ating pamilya at mga kaibigan din.  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sila naman ang mga pinaka-importanteng tao sa buhay natin diba?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Sila yung mga taong nandiyan kahit ano pa tayo, at kahit ano pang kagaguhan ang ginawa natin tanggap nila.  Kahit gano ka pa ka-mukhang monster sa umaga pagka-gising mo, di nalang nila pinapansin.  Kahit ano pang pagsisirko at pagwawalang ginawa mo nung nalasing ka sa birthday party mo.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MAHAL KA NILA! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So maybe this day isn't so bad...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS:  Ayos talaga yung evil na mayaman na may-ari ng flowershop and Hallmark noh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110837772439827596?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110837772439827596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110837772439827596' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110837772439827596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110837772439827596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentines Day?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110778662518849405</id><published>2005-02-07T21:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T23:01:47.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my love, my love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;my love is all I have to give.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Since I'm sick and tired of thinking about my financial worries:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;a. Bohol Trip&lt;br /&gt;b. CRV paintjob&lt;br /&gt;c. "debts" to myself&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I created a new hobby. I decided to start &lt;em&gt;thinking about my life and why there was any reason for someone to be a part of it&lt;/em&gt;. I ended up thinking about the Disney Princes and which one of those I can relate to Him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First, there is the Prince in Sleeping Beauty... &lt;strong&gt;Prince Philip&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/SleepingBeauty.bmp" /&gt; Well, basically, he lifted the curse that was given to Sleeping Beauty by the wicked witch and all that shit with a sweet &lt;strong&gt;kiss&lt;/strong&gt;. And they lived happily ever after. Well, I don't think HE could relate so much to Prince Philip because I wasn't asleep. Ok, to be more metaphorical, I wasn't in a slump. I wasn't naive that I had to be shown wonderful things to be awaken to. &lt;em&gt;At least I hope not! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is the &lt;strong&gt;Prince in Cinderella&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/cinderella.gif" /&gt; which I don't know the name. Hehehehehe. He is the Hearth Throb of the kingdom. Everyone wanted him. However, he wanted the poor girl Cinderella. Ooookay... I don't think HE could relate to the Prince of Cinderella either because no one really went into great lengths to get him. I mean, no one made me clean the attic and leave me to talk to mice and birds. Naaaah... Not him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course, there is &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/littlemermaid.bmp" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Prince Eric&lt;/strong&gt; of The Little Mermaid. This story is actually quite funny because if you think about it, Prince Eric was actually the &lt;em&gt;damsel in distress&lt;/em&gt; in the story. See, Ariel saved him from drowning. Okay, so not him either.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And oh, my favorite &lt;strong&gt;Beast&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/beauty.gif" /&gt; I love this story. The thought of having someone change for you. Seeing the inner beauty of someone and ultimately becoming a better person because of you. That's how Beast was. But of course, HE is not like Beast. He has been nothing but beautiful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And then there is &lt;strong&gt;Aladdin&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/aladdin.gif" /&gt; Who had to pretend to be a sultan to get Jasmine's heart, who had to have a genie doing his dirty work and turned out didn't need neither money or genie because Jasmine liked him anyway. Whew! Naaaaah...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is also the Prince in Snow White whom we shall refer to as &lt;strong&gt;Prince Charming&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/pocahontas.gif" /&gt; (courtesy of Ces.) He did basically nothing but carry Snow White's coffin. I don't think so.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And finally, there's &lt;strong&gt;John Smith&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/princes/poca.gif" /&gt; I have to admit I have always loved John Smith ever since I was a little girl. He came into the new world searching for gold. He met Pocahontas and wanted to bring her back to England to show her new things and &lt;em&gt;save&lt;/em&gt; her. I know, I know... John Smith was not a Prince or a Sultan or an Emperor... And that is precisely what I like about him. &lt;strong&gt;He was real&lt;/strong&gt;. He never pretended to be someone he wasn't and he and Pocahontas actually had something to talk about within the story. Not the instant connection thing that happened with most of the other stories. &lt;strong&gt;He was real&lt;/strong&gt;. Could I stress that even more? So there you go. John Smith is the person I can relate most to HIM.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See, I was also like Pocahontas. I am my own self. I am full of life. I am not like the other Princesses that have to be fended for. John Smith wanted to take Pocahontas to England to &lt;strong&gt;save&lt;/strong&gt; her from the life she was leading. &lt;strong&gt;But she didn't need to be saved&lt;/strong&gt;. She was happy. She was content. She was living a simple life and she loved it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know I had asked once for somebody to save me and HE came along. But the truth was. &lt;strong&gt;I didn't need to be saved&lt;/strong&gt;. Not by someone else at least. &lt;em&gt;Maybe, the only person who can save me is myself&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know I should be thankful to HIM. He didn't save me, but he did something much better. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HE healed me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Now I know what I need. And I know what I want. He made me realize that. Even if he doesn't believe me. He did.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110778662518849405?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110778662518849405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110778662518849405' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110778662518849405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110778662518849405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/02/my-love-my-love.html' title='my love, my love...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110767778135712803</id><published>2005-02-06T15:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T16:36:20.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been Tagged</title><content type='html'>Madness in Music - Tag Along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been tagged by &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://aqrn785.braveweblog.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The &lt;u&gt;Bald&lt;/u&gt; and The Beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random 10:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Name&lt;/strong&gt; by The Goo Goo Dolls&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Whatever Makes You Happy&lt;/strong&gt; by Splendor&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Journey&lt;/strong&gt; by Angela Zhang&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Yi Shi De Mei Hao&lt;/strong&gt; by Angela Zhang&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;I Wish I wasn't&lt;/strong&gt; by Heather Headley&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;Breathing&lt;/strong&gt; by Lifehouse&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;strong&gt;How You Remind Me&lt;/strong&gt; by Nickelback&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;Unstoppable&lt;/strong&gt; by The Calling&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;Stigmatized&lt;/strong&gt; by The Calling&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;strong&gt;Let Go&lt;/strong&gt; by 12 Stones&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 1,000 or so mp3s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. The last CD you bought is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay, believe it or not, yung CD ni Jerry Yan. (It's for my sister ok!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What is the last song you listened to before this message:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drive by Incubus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Write down five songs you listen to a lot or mean a lot to you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Everything&lt;/strong&gt; by Lifehouse (My Wedding Song)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Drive&lt;/strong&gt; by Incubus (Brings Back College Memories)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Black Car&lt;/strong&gt; by July For Kings (arf! arf!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm Still Here&lt;/strong&gt; by Vertical Horizon (The Story of My Life)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Someday We'll Know&lt;/strong&gt; by New Radicals (The Vindication)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to? (3 persons and why)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt;, because we share the same passion for music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://tabulas.com/~phunatik"&gt;Goya&lt;/a&gt;, because we cry for the same songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://shadowdaemon.blogspot.com"&gt;Jerome&lt;/a&gt;, dahil wala na akong maisip. Joke!!! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110767778135712803?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110767778135712803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110767778135712803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110767778135712803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110767778135712803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/02/ive-been-tagged.html' title='I&apos;ve Been Tagged'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110735639851946423</id><published>2005-02-02T22:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-04T17:45:36.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year...</title><content type='html'>&lt;marquee&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Birthday Gaye!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/marquee&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hello?"&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Birthday..."&lt;br /&gt;Immediately recognizing Sau's voice...&lt;br /&gt;"Happy Birthday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hahahahahahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;It brought back memories of the past birthdays I've had.  I always, always end up drunk and passed out with people going crazy trying to take care of me.  The most memorable was last year of course.  Fontana days... Haaaaaay...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The night before my birthday, (1-1-05) I was forcing myself to sleep.  Mainly because I had to get up early in the morning for a training that didn't go and we ended up taking calls, but also I knew that my cellphone would start beeping from greeters of "Happy Birthday!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But you know how when you are trying not to think about it, the more you would?  Like, when I tell you to not think of the color &lt;strong&gt;green&lt;/strong&gt;, the first thing you &lt;strong&gt;would&lt;/strong&gt; think about is the color green.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;12:00 struck and tadaaaaa... 4 years in a row, first greeter, &lt;strong&gt;Kars.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My cellphone kept on beeping.  Same old predictable people.  And I love them for that.  It must've stopped at around 2:30.  I thought to myself, sleeping would be useless now.  I started thinking about my life.  That I am getting old, and still doing the same things I've been used to doing.  I thought about my life and if I was happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The answer was plain and simple.  No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Every year during my birthday, I slide into this loooooow point.  I feel like I always lose something during my birthday (not really exactly during my birthday but let's say during my birthday week or forthnight) and I did.  I lost something...  Someone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And everytime this happens, I feel like I lose this part of me that I can never get back.  That I've been broken and cannot be  mended.  For the past week, I feel so unattached from the world.  It was like I was dreaming.  I'm watching my friends and family but in a haze.  I couldn't relate to them.  Some days I just couldn't smile.  I remember my friend John asking me once why I was frowning...  And I said, "&lt;strong&gt;my face hurts when I smile&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;It still does.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I thought of what I want to do with my life.  I thought about what Lex Luthor said in Smallville, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"See I don't want to do good things, I want to do great things."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  And that's exactly what I want to do.  I'm done just taking things as they come my way.  I wanna do something that I really love.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am not okay with a mediocre life!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I waited all day for a message, or a call from the person I want to hear a greeting from the most.  It never came.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know what to do.  I don't know if I'm even going to publish this post.  My relatives are almost here for the "party".  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Go, GayGo!!!  Anong gagawin mo?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110735639851946423?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110735639851946423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110735639851946423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110735639851946423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110735639851946423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/02/another-year.html' title='Another year...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110709090792315660</id><published>2005-01-30T21:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T20:57:32.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women in my life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What's wrong with me?! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just pissing everybody off today. And I don't have an excuse. I don't want to make excuses. My personal problems is completely separate from that part of my life that's falling apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To everybody I pissed off, &lt;strong&gt;I'm so sorry&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my friends... Last night was the first time I've seen them in a looooooong time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 358px; HEIGHT: 262px" height="262" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/DCP_0006.jpg" width="330" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Guys, thanks for putting up with me. I love you seoooooow much!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110709090792315660?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110709090792315660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110709090792315660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110709090792315660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110709090792315660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/women-in-my-life.html' title='Women in my life...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110707066272641682</id><published>2005-01-30T15:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T15:37:42.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Kahapon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parang napakadali ng buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May plano ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May plano tayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ngayon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang hirap ng buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala akong plano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala na tayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110707066272641682?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110707066272641682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110707066272641682' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110707066272641682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110707066272641682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/maybe.html' title='Maybe...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110656769734474965</id><published>2005-01-24T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T19:54:57.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to do:</title><content type='html'>Wala akong magawa.  Bakit lagi nalang wala akong magawa!  Bakit kahit anong gawin ko, wala parin! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labo pare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gagawa nalang nga ako ngbagong THINGS TO DO LIST.   Ay hindi, BOOKS TO READ list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Don Quixote Miguel De Cervantes&lt;br /&gt;2. Pilgrim's Progress John Bunyan&lt;br /&gt;3. Robinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe&lt;br /&gt;4. Gulliver's Travels Jonathan Swift&lt;br /&gt;5. Tom Jones Henry Fielding&lt;br /&gt;6. Clarissa Samuel Richardson&lt;br /&gt;7. Tristram Shandy Laurence Sterne&lt;br /&gt;8. Dangerous Liaisons Pierre Choderlos De Laclos&lt;br /&gt;9. Emma Jane Austen&lt;br /&gt;10. Frankenstein Mary Shelley&lt;br /&gt;11. Nightmare Abbey Thomas Love Peacock&lt;br /&gt;12. The Black Sheep Honore De Balzac&lt;br /&gt;13. The Charterhouse of Parma Stendhal&lt;br /&gt;14. The Count of Monte Cristo Alexandre Dumas&lt;br /&gt;15. Sybil Benjamin Disraeli&lt;br /&gt;16. David Copperfield Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;17. Wuthering Heights Emily Bronte&lt;br /&gt;18. Jane Eyre Charlotte Bronte&lt;br /&gt;19. Vanity Fair William Makepeace Thackeray&lt;br /&gt;20. The Scarlet Letter Nathaniel Hawthorne&lt;br /&gt;21. Moby-Dick Herman Melville "Call me Ishmael"&lt;br /&gt;22. Madame Bovary Gustave Flaubert&lt;br /&gt;23. The Woman in White Wilkie Collins&lt;br /&gt;24. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland Lewis Carroll&lt;br /&gt;25. Little Women Louisa M. Alcott&lt;br /&gt;26. The Way We Live Now Anthony Trollope&lt;br /&gt;27. Anna Karenina Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;28. Daniel Deronda George Eliot&lt;br /&gt;29. The Brothers Karamazov Fyodor Dostoevsky&lt;br /&gt;30. The Portrait of a Lady Henry James&lt;br /&gt;31. Huckleberry Finn Mark Twain Twain&lt;br /&gt;32. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde Robert Louis Stevenson&lt;br /&gt;33. Three Men in a Boat Jerome K. Jerome&lt;br /&gt;34. The Picture of Dorian Gray Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;35. The Diary of a Nobody George Grossmith&lt;br /&gt;36. Jude the Obscure Thomas Hardy&lt;br /&gt;37. The Riddle of the Sands Erskine&lt;br /&gt;38. The Call of the Wild Jack London&lt;br /&gt;39. Nostromo Joseph Conrad&lt;br /&gt;40. The Wind in the Willows Kenneth Grahame&lt;br /&gt;41. In Search of Lost Time Marcel Proust&lt;br /&gt;42. The Rainbow D. H. Lawrence&lt;br /&gt;43. The Good Soldier Ford Madox Ford&lt;br /&gt;44. The Thirty-Nine Steps John Buchan&lt;br /&gt;45. Ulysses James Joyce&lt;br /&gt;46. Mrs Dalloway Virginia Woolf&lt;br /&gt;47. A Passage to India E. M. Forster&lt;br /&gt;48. The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald&lt;br /&gt;49. The Trial Franz Kafka&lt;br /&gt;50. Men Without Women Ernest Hemingway&lt;br /&gt;51. Journey to the End of the Night Louis-Ferdinand Celine&lt;br /&gt;52. As I Lay Dying William Faulkner&lt;br /&gt;53. Brave New World Aldous Huxley&lt;br /&gt;54. Scoop Evelyn Waugh&lt;br /&gt;55. USA John Dos Passos&lt;br /&gt;56. The Big Sleep Raymond Chandler&lt;br /&gt;57. The Pursuit Of Love Nancy Mitford&lt;br /&gt;58. The Plague Albert Camus&lt;br /&gt;59. Nineteen Eighty-Four George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;60. Malone Dies Samuel Beckett&lt;br /&gt;61. Catcher in the Rye J.D. Salinger&lt;br /&gt;62. Wise Blood Flannery O'Connor&lt;br /&gt;63. Charlotte's Web E. B. White&lt;br /&gt;64. The Lord Of The Rings J. R. R. Tolkien&lt;br /&gt;65. Lucky Jim Kingsley Amis&lt;br /&gt;66. Lord of the Flies William Golding&lt;br /&gt;67. The Quiet American Graham Greene Prophetic&lt;br /&gt;68. On the Road Jack Kerouac&lt;br /&gt;69. Lolita Vladimir Nabokov Humbert&lt;br /&gt;70. The Tin Drum Gunter Grass&lt;br /&gt;71. Things Fall Apart Chinua Achebe&lt;br /&gt;72. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie Muriel Spark&lt;br /&gt;73. To Kill A Mockingbird Harper Lee&lt;br /&gt;74. Catch-22 Joseph Heller&lt;br /&gt;75. Herzog Saul Bellow&lt;br /&gt;76. One Hundred Years of Solitude Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;br /&gt;77. Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont Elizabeth Taylor&lt;br /&gt;78. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy John Le Carre&lt;br /&gt;79. Song of Solomon Toni Morrison&lt;br /&gt;80. The Bottle Factory Outing Beryl Bainbridge&lt;br /&gt;81. The Executioner's Song Norman Mailer&lt;br /&gt;82. If on a Winter's Night a Traveller Italo Calvino&lt;br /&gt;83. A Bend in the River V. S. Naipaul&lt;br /&gt;84. Waiting for the Barbarians J.M. Coetzee&lt;br /&gt;85. Housekeeping Marilynne Robinson&lt;br /&gt;86. Lanark Alasdair Gray&lt;br /&gt;87. The New York Trilogy Paul Auster&lt;br /&gt;88. The BFG Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;89. The Periodic Table Primo Levi&lt;br /&gt;90. Money Martin Amis&lt;br /&gt;91. An Artist of the Floating World Kazuo Ishiguro&lt;br /&gt;92. Oscar And Lucinda Peter Carey&lt;br /&gt;93. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting Milan Kundera&lt;br /&gt;94. Haroun and the Sea af Stories Salman Rushdie&lt;br /&gt;95. La Confidential James Ellroy&lt;br /&gt;96. Wise Children Angela Carter&lt;br /&gt;97. Atonement Ian McEwan&lt;br /&gt;98. Northern Lights Philip Pullman&lt;br /&gt;99. American Pastoral Philip Roth&lt;br /&gt;100. Austerlitz W. G. Sebald Post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have something to fill my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110656769734474965?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110656769734474965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110656769734474965' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110656769734474965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110656769734474965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/things-to-do.html' title='Things to do:'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110621523412773232</id><published>2005-01-20T16:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T18:05:45.863+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My future</title><content type='html'>I have a story to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, my Past and my Present caught up with me. Both of them wanted a chance to become my Future. I couldn't decide who to pick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I contemplated about my Past and thought about the good times... The bad times... I thought about how much I miss my Past. All of the times that we spent together. How much there's still a big part of me that wishes he were back in my life to fill in the void that came about when he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But also there's my Present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Present is perfect. He is like the Prince that saved me from the bitterness of my Past. When all I can feel with my Past is sorrow, all I feel for my Present is happiness, laughter and security. I had once asked for &lt;em&gt;someone to save me&lt;/em&gt; and I knew in my heart that he could. My saviour. My knight. My Prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why does the idea of not giving my Past a second chance so revolting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days and nights I thought about what to do. I always thought about why I felt so alone. Why I felt so scared of the thought of being happy. I asked myself countless times, why I was even thinking about this. &lt;em&gt;The Past who made you cry, or the Present who'd do almost anything to make me happy&lt;/em&gt;... I guess it was true that the only person who could make you stop hurting is the person who hurt you in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw my Past face to face, it all came flooding back. Right then I was ready to give in again. My Past wanted to talk to me. And I wanted to talk to him too. There are so many questions that I know only he could answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm with someone new now," my Past said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I knew that...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then I guess there's really nothing we should talk about," he said again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I guess not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dammit!" he said. "Why are you so incapable of saying exactly how you feel? This is exactly what happened to us before. I tell you I was leaving and all you said was, take care on your way home. I never know what the hell you want from me! Do you want to be with me?.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept quiet. He was right. I never ask for what I want because I always feel like I don't deserve to be so lucky. And I was scared... of him. Scared that he might not want what I wanted. Or allow me to get what I wanted... Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you want?" he cried. "Tell me you want me, and you can have me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What about your girl?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come-on, you know it's always been you..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was getting angry again. Then memories from before came back to me. That was the one, I was always so scared of him. I had told him that he was this voice in my head in everything I do, and that was exactly it. I always thought I needed his approval. I always thought I have to be better. I always thought I have to justify him being with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started crying. I cried because I knew this was goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You really want to know the truth, my Past? I think it's time to move on. I think I shouldn't keep holding on to you. I think I can never love you the same way knowing it wasn't good enough that you had to leave. I think that there's better for me. Somewhere. There's someone waiting for me. Who I could be myself with. Who can accept me for who I am and didn't need me to ask for what I want, but should know what I want because he knows me. The truth is my Past, if you had to ask what I wanted, then you obviously are not ready to know.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stepped out of the car, still crying and walked toward my house where my Present sat waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to you?" he asked concern written all over his face. "I'm gonna have a little talk with him..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No. You don't have to. Don't hate him. He didn't do anything to me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't do anything? Will you look at yourself!" he held my hand. "I'm sorry, but you come to me broken, I get to hate the person who broke you. That's just how it is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Please... I'm really not crying because of him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put my arms around his waste. And he cradled me, I can feel his lips on my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm crying because I know exactly what I want now. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just this. Plain and simple. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110621523412773232?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110621523412773232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110621523412773232' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110621523412773232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110621523412773232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-future.html' title='My future'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110603620070176713</id><published>2005-01-18T14:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T16:16:40.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;are you going to be something else that I have to survive?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110603620070176713?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110603620070176713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110603620070176713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110603620070176713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110603620070176713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110596861317015254</id><published>2005-01-17T21:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T21:30:13.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Na-realize ko...</title><content type='html'>...na hindi mo talaga pwede pigilan ang mga bagay kung ayaw talaga pa-pigil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na kapag masaya ka, dadating at dadating talaga na magiging malungkot ka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na may mga bagay o tao na nawawala sa piling mo.  maaring mabagal o pwede ring kasing bilis ng isang buntong hininga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na may mga bagay na kahit pilitin mong intindihin o kahit gaano pa ipaliwanag sayo, hindi mo talaga maiintindihan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na minsan sa di mo inaasahang oras, nagbabago ang ihip ng hangin.  maaring sobrang lungkot mo at may dadating nalang na isang bagay or TAO na makakapag-pasaya sayo ng lubusan.  pwede rin naman na masayang masaya ka at bigla nalang isa isang nawawala ang dahilan mo para ngumiti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na sa isang iglap, makikita mo ang sarili mo na nagmamahal at minamahal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...na at sa isang iglap, mararamdaman mo na ang pag-ibig na inakala mong ibingay sayo ay panaginip lang.  nabiro ka lang ng pagkakataon.  nagpadala sa agos ng akala mo ay iyong swerte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pwede kaya nating ipaglaban ang mga bagay na to?  gusto kitang ipaglaban, walang pagdadalawang isip, walang sabi sabi.  pero ako, gusto mo ba akong ipaglaban?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110596861317015254?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110596861317015254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110596861317015254' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110596861317015254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110596861317015254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/na-realize-ko.html' title='Na-realize ko...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110586026238979766</id><published>2005-01-16T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T15:24:22.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bagong Template nanaman...</title><content type='html'>"Nagpalit ka nanaman?" Unang tanong ni Lemuell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know... Di daw ako mapakali nanaman sa template ko.  The truth is, for the first time since I started working, ngayon lang ako nagka-time para sa sarili ko.  I did most of the things I planned on doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;1. Clean my car. (Si ate hindi inaalagaan ampucha!)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;2. Fix my vcds and dvds.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;3. Review a bit.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;4. Catch up on my reading.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;5. Watch Ocean's 12 and have dinner with The Prince's sister. (Scary!)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Go to Cavite to get a Christmas gift that was accidentally left there.&lt;br /&gt;7. Make a "life" agenda. (Naks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;8. Make Carbonara for the soccer fockers.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;9. Go to A-toy's shop to arrange cherva for the car.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;10. Take favorite shoes to Mr. Quickie to have them repaired (ahuhuhuhu)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;11. Fix files in PC. &lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since I've done most of the things on my list, I changed my template again.  I really wasnt cut out for the gothic one anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've been asking for &lt;em&gt;time.  &lt;/em&gt;But this weekend...  I know this was what I wanted...  But haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...  Bakit naman kasi hindi tayo magkaintindihan?  Sigh!  Kung alam mo lang kung gano kahirap na pigilan sarili ko na tumawag o magtext sayo this weekend.  Bakit ako natiis mo? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ewan ko! Naguguluhan na ako!  Pati sa work, may bago akong sched...  2-11pm.  Feeling ko nasa twilight zone ako.  Ang daming nagbago.  Gusto ko ba tong ganito?  Accept change.  Fine.  Pero, handa na ba ako sa mga pagbabago sating dalawa?  Natatakot ako.  Ayokong mawala ka.  Ayokong magbago tayo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know things could never go back to what they were, but let's just pretend they could for five minutes...  Could you and I go back too? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110586026238979766?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110586026238979766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110586026238979766' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110586026238979766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110586026238979766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/bagong-template-nanaman.html' title='Bagong Template nanaman...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110584890495443656</id><published>2005-01-16T13:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T12:15:04.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Prince,</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I don't want to lose you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110584890495443656?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110584890495443656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110584890495443656' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110584890495443656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110584890495443656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-prince.html' title='My Prince,'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110516566756406790</id><published>2005-01-08T11:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T12:11:21.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I went through it and I survived.</title><content type='html'>&lt;s&gt;5. Watch Ocean's 12 and have dinner with The Prince's sister. (Scary!)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, we watched Kung Fu Hustle. The line for Ocean's 12 was so long and if we waited, then we would've missed the beginning. So Sis asked me what else I wanted to watch and I said, Kung Fu Hustle, hehe. And they agreed. Nakakahiya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the movie house, Sis and I were sandwiched between The Prince and Sis' BF. During the movie, I was so afraid to laugh out loud with everybody else because Sis was so prim and proper. Yung tipong mga babae nung unang panahon na pag tumatawa may pamaypay pa sa bibig. Hehehehehe. The whole time, The Prince was giving me a nudge, telling me to stop acting so stiff and have fun. But I was scared to death. My palm was sweaty, mouth dry, and I couldn't say a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movie, Sis didn't seem to enjoy the movie. I figured she was thinking in her head, "kid stuff!" We walked a little around while trying to figure out where to have dinner. The Prince kept playing with me, putting his arm around me and tickling me just to make ease up a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis and The BF finally decided on a restaurant. I let them do the ordering but Sis kept asking me to order something. And of course, curry ang inorder ko. Hahahahaha. While waiting for the food...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you plan to work in a callcenter long?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HR, is that you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ate!" The Prince interrupted before I could answer. "Interviewhin ba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hehe, ok lang noh!" I said smiling. "This is my first job naman..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, I see..." Sabi ni Sis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pero I might quit soon kasi my dad wants me to go back to school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"School?" Singit si The BF. "Bakit? Di ka pa ba nagsasawa?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Prince, "Oo nga eh, ang sipag mag-aral niyan. Minsan nga pag nagpupunta ako sa bahay nila nag-aaral lang siya and nanonood nalang ako ng TV eh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nahiya naman ako, baka isipin nila I'm taking The Prince forgranted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sis, "Eh what's wrong with that naman?" she said finally smiling at me. (Well, di naman na the whole time di talaga siya nags-smile pero this was the first time I really saw the sincerity. Naks!) "At least may direction ang buhay niya."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi pa naman sure yun eh," pa-humble effect, "Sana makapasa muna sa Test..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chika chika pa about stuff. The BF was so funny and nice. Binubuko niya si The Prince sa mga kalokohan niya. And Sis was really warming up. When the food came, medyo tumahimik ulit kasi gutom na lahat. Then, eto nanaman si Sis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So never ka pa naman nahuli ng MMDA?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost choked. Of all the things na pwede niyang itanong sakin tulad ng, "kelan ka magd-diet?" or "anong IQ mo?" or "anong plans mo in the future para mapasaya ng lubusan ang kapatid ko?" Bakit ayun pa?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uhhhh..." I stammered. "Actually..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What does that have to do with anything naman?" Asked The BF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eh kasi pinaguusapan niyo yung car niya eh," Sis said. "Curious lang..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually," I said. "Nahuli na ako ng MMDA..." (ng PNP, laguna police, cainta police etc."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lahat naman nahuli na for traffic violations eh," The Prince defended, holding my hand underneath the table. Aaaaw... Heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ako hindi!" Sis defended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was shut down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Order pa tayo ng drinks!" The BF changed the topic. "Gaye, ano pang gusto mo? Green mango shake? Waiter..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished eating, I excused myself (naks!) and went to the restroom. While looking at myself in the mirror, feeling ko sobra akong napaka-loser and feeling ko while I left The Prince at the table pinagsasabihan na siya ni Sis to stay the hell away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ate talaga, iniinterrogate si Gaye." I heard the Prince say while approaching the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bakit ba?" Sis said. "I'm just getting to know your girlfriend, masama ba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rejoined the group. Chika chika ulit. Nagpapatawa nanaman si The BF and binubuko niya parin si Jay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay, diba you have to go to Megamall para bumili nung book nalang para sa friend mo?" Sabi ni Jay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay oo nga pala..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anong book?" Tanong naman ni Sis. "You like to read ba?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I do. Ikaw?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo, ako din," Sis said. "What kind of books do you read?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kahit ano, actually depende sa mood ko," I said. "Right now gusto ko ng mga classics and mga books nung 60's and 70's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ako din!!!" Sis said excitedly. "What's your favorite book?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay siyempre The Catcher in the Rye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Siyempre..." She said rolling her eyes na parang, lahat naman eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pero gusto ko din ng A Separate Peace," I said. "Para siyang mala-Dead Poets Society. Maganda siya."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ay, meron kang book?" She said excitedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yup, meron. Bibigay ko nalang kay Jay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige, sige..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the rest of the night became a talk of books that we have read, books that we want to read, good books, bad books. Books na disappointment. Books na shockers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're sister was scary," I told The Prince when we he took me home. We were actually chatting with Hundun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sus, hindi noh!" He took out his cellphone. (By the way, nanakawan siya ng phone, poor baby.) "Tignan mo kung ano tinext ni ate..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Ok c gaye. Tma ka. Umuwi k ng erly, papagalitan k nnmn ni dadi. Tel gaye we shud do it agen sum tym."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waaaaaaaaah!!! I can't take it. I went through the dreaded dinner na sobrang tagal na pinaplano, and I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110516566756406790?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110516566756406790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110516566756406790' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110516566756406790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110516566756406790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-went-through-it-and-i-survived.html' title='I went through it and I survived.'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110502849979468752</id><published>2005-01-06T23:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T11:39:35.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa Wakas 3</title><content type='html'>REST DAY KO NA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last I'll be able to do all things I have to do. I'll list them down so I won't forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Clean my car. (Si ate hindi inaalagaan ampucha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;2. Fix my vcds and dvds&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Review a bit.&lt;br /&gt;4. Catch up on my reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;5. Watch Ocean's 12 and have dinner with The Prince's sister. (Scary!)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Go to Cavite to get a Christmas gift that was accidentally left there.&lt;br /&gt;7. Make a "life" agenda. (Naks!)&lt;br /&gt;8. Make Carbonara for the soccer fockers.&lt;br /&gt;9. Go to A-toy's shop to arrange cherva for the car.&lt;br /&gt;10. Take favorite shoes to Mr. Quickie to have them repaired (ahuhuhuhu)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;11. Fix files in PC &lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn! Ang dami ko palang dapat gawin this weeened. Pano ko mapapagkasiya ang lahat ng to 2 araw na pahinga ko? Nway, ok lang... At least I had fun with Marvin, Bong, Jacob and Franchie watching Kung Fu Hustle. It's the best. I love Stephen Chaiu. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110502849979468752?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110502849979468752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110502849979468752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110502849979468752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110502849979468752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/sa-wakas-3.html' title='Sa Wakas 3'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110499713817124729</id><published>2005-01-06T15:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T16:45:41.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>San Ka Pa 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I have a new kraz!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nako...  Eto nanaman ako.  Pinagnanasaan ang isang taong di dapat pagnasaan.   Ahihihihi.  Di ako pwede chumika, kilala mo siya eh...  Hehehehehe...  Basta...  Hmmmmmmmm...  Kay bango-bango... =) =) =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;PS:  Don't worry, My Prince.  Ikaw parin ang love ko.  Pero kraz ko talaga ito... Waaaaaaaaah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110499713817124729?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110499713817124729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110499713817124729' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110499713817124729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110499713817124729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/san-ka-pa-2.html' title='San Ka Pa 2'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110492919190082486</id><published>2005-01-05T19:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T20:46:31.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>San Ka Pa?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I'm sorry...  But you come to be me broken, I get to hate the person who broke you!!!"  -The Prince&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xian zai shi, xia wu si dian ban.  Wai mian de tian kong hai you yi dian dian de lan.  Xiang chu qu zhou zhou.  Mei fang xiang.  Deng le you deng hai shi mei you ni de dian hua.  Zhi yao ni shuo shuo hua er yi.  Wo jiu zai zhe li deng zhe ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai qing ta bu hui deng ni man man kai jin.  Wo bu hui yi zhi deng ni.  Hai rang wo zhan zai zhe li sha sha deng ni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Xian zai shi wang shang shi dian ban.  Zhao ji ge peng you pei wo yi qi chu qu wang wang.  Ni hu rang chu xian.  Zai wo sheng bian.  Deng le you deng ni.  Hai shi mei shuo yi ju hua. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Try translating this, buddy. =)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110492919190082486?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110492919190082486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110492919190082486' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110492919190082486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110492919190082486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/san-ka-pa.html' title='San Ka Pa?!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110467809224777564</id><published>2005-01-02T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T17:09:16.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mata</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"You don't love me?" I asked.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He had sadness in his eyes, as if ashamed of what I just figured out. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's okay... I don't love you either."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We laughed. Feeling silly of what we just said to each other. Instead of the normal 'I love yous' of couples, we said the exact same opposite.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"But we are so right for each other," he said with a hint of desolation in his smile. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I know, right?" I agreed. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I think for my part, there was just this huge urge for me to take care of you." He touched my face and kissed my lips. "But..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's okay," I interrupted.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Silence. He looked at me as though he wanted to hug me. Comfort me. Let me know that I'm going to be okay... Frankly, I am.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Is there someone else?" I asked finally. I know I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I didn't.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Well..." He looked down. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Really?" I jumped up, curious. "Who? The girl from..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Uhhhh..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Come-on," I punched his arm slightly. "Who is she?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'd rather not talk about her," he said smiling. "What about you? Is there someone else?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I looked down, the smile disappearing slowly. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"No," I said softly. "But there's a dream of someone else..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;0O0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Goodnight sweet Prince... And may flocks of Angels seek thee to thy rest." -Hamlet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110467809224777564?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110467809224777564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110467809224777564' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110467809224777564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110467809224777564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/mata.html' title='Mata'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110458557781695955</id><published>2005-01-01T21:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T21:21:07.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time of our Lives?</title><content type='html'>Goodbye 2004, hello 2005.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yuck, isang taon na naman ang nagdaan. Ano na ba ang na-accomplish mo ngayon GayGo? Let's see... Ang mga highlight ng taon ko siguro ay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Birthday party namin ni Sau sa Fontana (February)&lt;br /&gt;2. Accomplishment ng napaka-hirap na thesis (April)&lt;br /&gt;3. Pagbisita sa San Fran, my future home (May)&lt;br /&gt;4. Grumaduate ng college (July)&lt;br /&gt;5. Nakahanap ng trabaho (July)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagkatapos nun, ano na? Parang simla ng magtrabaho ako, natigil na ang mga highlights ng buhay ko ah... Teka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. The Prince and Me (November)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shempre, kakalimutan ko ba naman ang pagdating niya sa buhay ko? Ok fine! All in all, I think the year 2004 was a good one. Actually, I think ito na ang pinaka-okay na taon ko eh. Well, sige, I take that back. Kailangan ng matagal at mahabang pagiisip yung statement na yun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, sobrang dami kong kailangang pasalamatan sa year 2004. Thank you po, sa lahat ng mga kaibigan ko, mga luma (highschool/college friends) at bago (work friends). Thank you po, dahil nanatili kaming masigla ng aking pamilya. Thank you narin po dahil pinapangalagaan niyo ang mga kaibigan ko (kahit na isa muntik na mabulag). Thank you narin po sa mga materyal na bagay na pinakaasam ko na nakuha ko. Thank you po dahil nandiyan si The Prince, dahil siya ang nananatiling lakas ko para harapin ang bukas. (Naks! Kilig ka jan!) At higit sa lahat, maraming salamat po dahil sa lahat ng mga pinagdaan ko ngayong 2004, naniniwala ako na ako ay mas matalino na at mas handa sa kung ano pang isasampal ng buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wish for 2005, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;clarity&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110458557781695955?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110458557781695955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110458557781695955' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110458557781695955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110458557781695955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2005/01/time-of-our-lives.html' title='Time of our Lives?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110425205868172741</id><published>2004-12-29T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-29T00:40:58.680+08:00</updated><title type='text'>China Boy...</title><content type='html'>My long lost buddy is back from China.  Naks!  Mukha na siyang Instek lalo, pero in fairview ang ganda ng kutis niya and parang sobrang saya niya doon.  Haaaaaaay...  Sau, Shakti, Pee, June and I had dinner in Cafe Mediterranean in Greenbelt 1 then  by request of Ms. Pinoy-noy, we had coffee at Starbucks.  And hindi lang ito sa Greenbelt mga kaibigan...  Sa 6750 pa po kami dahil sobrang EXAGGE ang tao sa Starbucks.  I think lahat sila gusto yung Starbucks 2005 planner like moi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I just realized how much I missed my friend Sau-ee...  Haaaaaay...  Here are some pics of us in Starbucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/sauandme3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/sauandme2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/sauandme.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Babalik ulit si Sau-ee sa land of the Tseks on January 2...  Haaaaaay...  Nakakalungkot naman...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110425205868172741?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110425205868172741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110425205868172741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110425205868172741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110425205868172741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/china-boy.html' title='China Boy...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110415536279313874</id><published>2004-12-27T21:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T17:11:55.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pieces of me...</title><content type='html'>Christmas came and went, at wala parin akong update. My friend asked me, "may bago kang post?" Told him, "wala. Masaya ako ngayon eh." Ang labo, diba? Ewan ko... Feeling ko lang if I said it out loud, baka may makarinig and sasabihin nila, "ah, masyado ka nang masaya, tama na!" Na-reach mo na ang quota mo sa happiness, tama na!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya I'm just gonna keep quiet nalang. And share some pic of me... They tell a story ah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfWritingWithLeftHand.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfSleeping.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfPa-cute.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfandIshin.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfQueHorror.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfBoobs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/MeArfILoveYou.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The End.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110415536279313874?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110415536279313874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110415536279313874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110415536279313874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110415536279313874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/pieces-of-me.html' title='Pieces of me...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110345217230924526</id><published>2004-12-19T18:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-19T18:29:32.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're all I want...  You're all I need...</title><content type='html'>If I could I had a song for what I feel right now, it would be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;find me here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;speak to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i want to feel you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i need to hear you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are the light&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that is leading me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to the place where&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i find peace again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are the strength&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that keeps me walking&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are the hope&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;that keeps me trusting&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are the life to my soul&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you are my purpose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you are everything&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;and how can i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;stand here with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;and not be moved by you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you tell me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;how could it beany better than this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you calm the storms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you give me rest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you hold me in your hands&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you won't let me fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;you still my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and you take my breath away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you take me in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you take me deeper now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;'cause you're all i want&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;you are all i need&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;you are everything&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;everything&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I don't even have to wonder why I feel this way about you.  It was inevitable right from the beginning.  Thank you for the wonderful day yesterday.  I can't stop thinking about you.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yahoooooooooooooooooooo... =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110345217230924526?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110345217230924526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110345217230924526' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110345217230924526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110345217230924526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/youre-all-i-want-youre-all-i-need.html' title='You&apos;re all I want...  You&apos;re all I need...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110311861023525999</id><published>2004-12-15T21:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T21:50:10.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>if i could be like that...</title><content type='html'>I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many things I wanna do, but can't.  It seems like I don't have time for myself anymore.  Work.  Work.  Work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to sleep until 2:30 in the afternoon, eat lunch, then watch TV all day everyday any damn day.   I have a loooooot of books that I wanna read.  I feel like I am doing too much with my life that I just can't relax anymore.  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!  I'm so frustrated.  (Naks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110311861023525999?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110311861023525999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110311861023525999' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110311861023525999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110311861023525999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/if-i-could-be-like-that.html' title='if i could be like that...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110300698733208260</id><published>2004-12-14T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-14T14:49:47.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Di ko na kaya to, Lord!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ayoko na! Kakaiba ang calls! Nakakapikon! Pagod na ako! Gusto ko na mamatay! Gusto ko ng chocolate! Gusto ko ng Pepsi Blue! Gusto ko ng bag na coach na color pink! Gusto ko ngchocolate cake ng Figaro! Gusto ko ng Floss sa Bread Talk! Gusto ko ng "lovin" hehehe! Gusto ko ng malupit na Tiffany na engagement ring! Or kahit Harry Winston! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ayoko naaaaaaaaaaaaaa!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110300698733208260?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110300698733208260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110300698733208260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110300698733208260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110300698733208260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/di-ko-na-kaya-to-lord.html' title='Di ko na kaya to, Lord!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110285630711525968</id><published>2004-12-12T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-12T21:01:26.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last II</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Second order of business:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MAY LICENSE NA AKO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; In your face &lt;strong&gt;Mr. Nivram Onitnelot&lt;/strong&gt;. Finally, after 4 months of being paranoid while driving, I finally had the time and "motivation" to get my license. Well see, actually, may daya parin. Coz instead of going to the LTO main office to make tubos (shet, diko alam kung ano english nun. Assumptionista genes kicking in!) my license, I went to the Caint LTO to get my card. I told the nice manong that I lost my receipt and he believed me. What poor soul. So in conclusion to my four-month despair, I &lt;strong&gt;almost&lt;/strong&gt; got caught twice for traffic violations, for the past week I'm a wreck and never go past 60 kph, but I got my license without having to go aaaaaaaaaaaaaall the way to East Ave. and I didn't even have to pay the fine. Clean slate. Thank you very much. Everybody's happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh you would think that now, would you? Nice try GayGo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the process of this very momentous occassion, I pissed The Prince off. See, the plan was, wake up at 7 take a bath, get dressed, meet The Prince for an 8:00 am mass, get the license at LTO and have breakfast. Simple. No problem, just stick to the plan. It was a good plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the thing... The Prince and I talked on the phone until 3:30 am the night before. I set the alarm, but of course, with my luck, the phone died. No phone, no alarm. &lt;strong&gt;I woke up at 10 freaking o'clock am!!!&lt;/strong&gt; I received about 20 prompts from Globe telling me he had called. I tried calling him, but he wasn't answering. I rushed the bath and went immediately to the church. I wasn't expecting him to still be there, but I was hoping because I was afraid I would never find him ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was there. He waited for me for 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!!! GayGo ano ka ba!!! Why are you screwing up the best thing that has happened to you since... Well... Since... Haaaaaaay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept calling him all day but he never answered. I texted him exactly 33 times. (He counted.) &lt;strong&gt;I was afraid that I've lost him.&lt;/strong&gt; I tried not to think of him the whole day, but it was useless. I even tried to distract myself by thinking of the gifts I was planning to get for my friends. But noooooooew.... Useless. All could think about is, &lt;strong&gt;"what if he saw through me, and realizes he doesn't like what he sees?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called around 1:30 am last night. He said he wanted to talk to me. I called him up but he said, "I wanna talk in person, come down now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huwaaaaaaaaaat?! Mega panick na ito! I didn't even say goodbye to Lem, Dash and Jett who I was chatting with. I just went down immediately. (Pero siyempre may konting cologne, suklay and lip gloss muna.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayun. We talked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Currently Listening To&lt;/strong&gt;: Crazy by Kci and Jojo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mood&lt;/strong&gt;: Solemn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alcohol Level&lt;/strong&gt;: 0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hygene&lt;/strong&gt;: 0% (still in bed, haven't even washed my face or brushed my teeth)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sanity:&lt;/strong&gt; 30% (refer to current song playing)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110285630711525968?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110285630711525968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110285630711525968' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110285630711525968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110285630711525968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/at-last-ii.html' title='At Last II'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110257506399192774</id><published>2004-12-09T11:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-09T14:55:52.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"at last... my love has come along..." -Stevie Nicks&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally, my blog is good to go. Thanks for the help and support of my friends &lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://madalas.magalas.org"&gt;Jett&lt;/a&gt; who helped me with the confusing html chervaloo that my mind just couldn't comprehend. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I missed my blog. I missed &lt;em&gt;writing&lt;/em&gt; in my blog. But now, all's well and good and back to normal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First order of business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why is it that whenever I have a fight with someone, people always assume it's my fault? If I say, "nag-away kami ni ______." they'll always say, "ano nanaman ginawa mo!?" It's not even, "bakit, ano nangyari?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HINDI!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Ano nanaman ang ginawa mo?!" Why do they automatically assume, I was at fault? Is it in my nature? Do I have a 666 sign on my forehead screaming to the world "EVIL!" I don't know why I even care, as long as I know in my heart that I didn't do anything, well... evil. But it just really bothered me when I was confronted (well, maybe confronted is too harsh a word for it) by my friend while he was eating lunch in the pantry last night. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I cannot help but think he was judging me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fine... Fine... The fight started with me. I admit it. It's my fault. All my fault. (No, it's Kiko's fault! Hehe!) I was wrong. I know that now, and &lt;em&gt;I'm sorry&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;You see, for a person who I think does not care about what people say or think, I never realized that my words meant something to you. You know what they say, words could hurt more than a twenty-five-million-wheeler truck running over one's body 67 times. I think it's because we see each other all the time and we've grown to be close that I'm so comfortable with you that I forgot about the boundaries. At least something good came out of this. Now I know how I should treat you and not bombard you with snide remarks. And maybe, just maybe, we can look back at this after twenty years and laugh. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Naks ang drama nampucha!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I wanna believe you,&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me that it'll be ok,&lt;br /&gt;Ya I try to believe you,&lt;br /&gt;But I don't&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you say that it's gonna be,&lt;br /&gt;It always turns out to be a different way,&lt;br /&gt;I try to believe you,&lt;br /&gt;Not today, today, today, today, today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know how I'll feel,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to say,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Is a different day&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;t's always been up to you,&lt;br /&gt;It's turning around,&lt;br /&gt;It's up to me,&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna do what I have to do,&lt;br /&gt;just don't&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gimme a little time,&lt;br /&gt;Leave me alone a little while,&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's not too late,&lt;br /&gt;not today, today, today, today, today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know how I'll feel,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to say,&lt;br /&gt;tomorrow, tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Is a different day&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah,&lt;br /&gt;and I know I'm not ready,&lt;br /&gt;Hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah,&lt;br /&gt;maybe tomorrow&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I wanna believe you,&lt;br /&gt;When you tell me that it'll be ok,&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I try to believe you,&lt;br /&gt;Not today, today, today, today, today...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tomorrow it may change&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a better day...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;--Tomorrow-- by Avril Lavigne&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110257506399192774?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110257506399192774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110257506399192774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110257506399192774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110257506399192774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/at-last.html' title='At Last'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110243824102177878</id><published>2004-12-08T01:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-08T00:50:41.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night</title><content type='html'>Today is the first time in the four and a half months that I've known you that I &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;really &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;don't like you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110243824102177878?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110243824102177878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110243824102177878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110243824102177878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110243824102177878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/late-night.html' title='Late Night'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110234821149878874</id><published>2004-12-06T23:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T23:50:11.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Under Construction</title><content type='html'>This site is currently under construction by my ever-beloved &lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog/"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt;.  Have patience my fellow blogaholics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110234821149878874?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110234821149878874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110234821149878874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110234821149878874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110234821149878874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/under-construction.html' title='Under Construction'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110221224202038919</id><published>2004-12-05T10:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T10:04:02.020+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dahil pasko...</title><content type='html'>Nagpalit ako ng template kasi Christmas na and masaya ako ngayon so di na bagay yung dark gloomy fairy template ko...  Maganda ba?  Ahehehehe...  By the way, sabihin niyo naman sakin yung mga birthdays niyo para ma-add ko sa &lt;strong&gt;birthdays.&lt;/strong&gt; cherva ko...  Pretty please...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110221224202038919?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110221224202038919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110221224202038919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110221224202038919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110221224202038919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/12/dahil-pasko.html' title='Dahil pasko...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110173334443901989</id><published>2004-11-29T20:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T14:44:41.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Prince and Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Can fairy tales come true?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a little girl I always imagined I was Sleeping Beauty. Hahaha. I think it's obvious that even then tamad na ako. Hahahaha. Anyway, I loved the idea that someone handsome, a real gentleman, basically someone perfect, would come and give me something amazing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A kiss.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everything would be ok. He would take care of me, be there for me every single day and every single night. I would be his queen, and we would forever be in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course, like every dream, I had to wake up too. I realized that not everything we imagine can be magically turned into life. I realized that there are schoolbuses, not golden charriots. Dirty mean boys who tease you while playing patintero. And as you get older, there are guys who'll promise to call, but never does. Guys who say they'll do anything for you but can't even come over to help you fix your... Well, something... You realize that life &lt;em&gt;isn'&lt;/em&gt;t perfect. And you should consider yourself lucky if your life didn't suck for two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Little girls grow up too, right?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then even if we know that dreams hardly ever come true, still we can't help ourselves. &lt;em&gt;Libre lang naman mangarap diba?&lt;/em&gt; But is it possible that someone will come and sweep away the bitterness of the past?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/jay.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He did it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He &lt;em&gt;literally&lt;/em&gt; made my dream come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110173334443901989?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110173334443901989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110173334443901989' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110173334443901989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110173334443901989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/prince-and-me.html' title='The Prince and Me'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110154457537541816</id><published>2004-11-27T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T23:53:21.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I was going through my old journal in college. It basically had quotes in there. You know, forwarded messages. And I just felt like sharing those &lt;em&gt;pamatay pagnanasa quotes&lt;/em&gt; that I used to go crazy over...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a note: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HINDI AKO NAGSESENTI! MASAYA AKO NGAYON! =)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; How will I know how you really feel for me when we spend our time like there's no tomorrow, but then, almost instantly, you act like we never really had anything special at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; I've always thought that I'd have to fight for what I really feel. I fought and got hurt, still I tried to give it a chance... But now, I don't know if I still believe in that. Kasi tao lang ako, napapagod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; Diba alam mo na mahalaga ka sakin? Na kailangan kita? Alam mo rin na masaya ako pag nandito ka? At mas lalong alam mo na mahal na mahal kita? Alam mo pala eh... Bat nagmahal ka pa ng iba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; The farthest distance in the world isn't the distance between life or death, nor is it the distance between north to south... It's the fact that I'm standing right in front of you and you don't know I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; Inside it hurts telling me I miss you. Inside I feel great pain knowing I can never have you. Inside I love you and I will always do... But inside I cry saying, "I wish you knew..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; &lt;strong&gt;What's the worst question someone could ever ask you? "Akala ko ba may thing kayo?" And then you look down and say, "Akala ko rin eh."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I remember the day that you asked me to let you go. You were slowly walking away and I asked, "wasn't my love not good enough?" Then you turned around and said, "No, it was too much."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; Kunyari masaya ako. Kunyari wala akong problema. Kunyari ok lang ako. Kunyari nasa langit ako. Pwede ba kunyari mahal mo rin ako? Sige na... Kunyari lang naman eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; Sabi mo mahal mo ako. Sabi mo rin seryoso ka. Nag-promise ka pa nga diba? Oh yun naman pala eh... Bakit di tayo? Ah siguro kasi nandiyan siya. At siya na mahal mo diba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; &lt;strong&gt;It's hard to hold on to something you know will never be your in any way you think of. You just have to let go and face the fact that while good things never last, some don't even start.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; I want to say I love you, I want to say I care. I want to hold you in my arms and keep you there. I want to make you happy and I want to make you smile... But will she lend you to me even just for a while?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; Masakit pag yung taong mahal mo iniwan ka... Masakit pag nakita mong may kasama siyang iba... Pero diba mas masakit pag nakita mo na masaya siya? Masaya siya dahil, wala ka na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; You told me you miss me, but you don't. You told me you care but you don't. You told me I'm special to you but I'm not. Then you told me the truth... That you don't love me. I just smiled and said, "I know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; You might say that I was the first one to let go between us, you said goodbye and I let go... Just lihe that. When all I ever wanted was for you to say, "please stay." but you never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loving you used to be my greatest fear. And I was right, it hurts. But thanks anyway... You showed me what love really is. And now I know... That it's just not you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; It wasn't the way my heart ached when you told her you loved her. It was the way my heart broke for you when she told you she didn't want you that way. That was how I knew that I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go. The sad and lonely quotes that haunted my past. I don't know why I decided to dig through yesterday. I guess maybe I'm feeling something wonderful and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sublime&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (as &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Podi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; said) that my past seems so meaningless and insignificant right now as I'm sitting here. I don't know... This is the first time that I didn't feel so tired, so afraid and so psycho. &lt;strong&gt;I can stay up half the night talking to him on the phone and the other half thinking about him and what we've talked about and I never felt so rested the next day. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighhhhhhhhhhhh... Right now really, there's only one quotable quote that matters...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; &lt;strong&gt;In God's time we will fall in love for the right reasons and to the right person... When that time comes, that person willbe worth the wait, the tears and the pain, then we will forget we ever cried.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110154457537541816?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110154457537541816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110154457537541816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110154457537541816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110154457537541816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/reminiscing.html' title='Reminiscing...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110120122665378438</id><published>2004-11-23T15:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-24T16:43:33.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ganyan talaga, MASAYA...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Kung noon pa sinabi ko na, eh di sana kasama na kita... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kung noon pa sinabi ko na, eh di sana tayo na talaga... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ngayon, gusto kita, pwede pa ba? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Di na siguro kasi sabi mo, "noon pa sana."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagsimula ang lahat sa isang walang kwentang quote. Na, as &lt;em&gt;fatter of mact&lt;/em&gt;, di ko dapat isesend sa kanya. Dapat isesend ko yon kay Jinggay, nadaanan ko ang pangalan niya so ayun, bigla ko lang siya naisip. Sinend ko ang mensaheng yan ng mga ala-una ng madaling araw. At wala akong nakuhang reply...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinabukasan, nagka-receive ako ng isang mensahe pagka-gising na pagka-gising ko "sino nagsabi sayo na sasabihin ko sayo na noon pa sana?" Huwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! Naloka ako!!! Hindi lang dahil sa matagal ko nang crush at kakilala itong taong to, kundi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh kasi ganito yun, dati ko pa kakilala tong taong to. At crush ko na siya, I admit. Heroh!!! Kaya lang, mga bata pa kami eh, ganun talaga... Walang nangyari. Ahehehehe! Tapos, nagkita kami nung mga second year ako lagi kaming lumalabas and all that, tapos parang wala lang. Wala namang relasyong nabuo. Nung mga nakaraang taon, di na kami nagusap. Busy rin siya sa kanyang girlfriend, at ako naman busy with the Devil. So ayun... Hindi naman masama ang aming paghihiwalay noon, well di nga kasi wala namang pagsasamang kailangang hiwalayin diba? Ahehehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, ayun na nga. The whole day nung Saturday magka-text kami. At nung gabi, nagpunta siya sa bahay para chumika. Ang saya saya. Tawa lang kami ng tawa. Nung una parang ilang pa. Alam mo yun, yung kaba at &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;butterflies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ika nga. It's like we picked up from where we left off. Ang gaan gaan ng feeling. &lt;strong&gt;Walang pretensions. Di kailangang magpanggap na iba kang tao. Ako ay ako at siya ay siya.&lt;/strong&gt; Pero correction hindi yung sobrang komportable na para na kaming mag-bestfriend or worse, &lt;strong&gt;magkapatid&lt;/strong&gt;. Yung kompotable na kinakabahan parin kapag nararamdaman ko yung hininga niya sa tenga o leeg ko kapag nakatayo siya sa likod ko, yung komportable kayong aminin sa isat-isa na wala kayong perang pangkain sa Chili's Greenhills, yung komportable kayong magsabihan ng mga walang kwentang jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katulad ng sinabi ko dati, &lt;strong&gt;simple, masaya at walang komplikasyon.&lt;/strong&gt; Kung baga, siya at ako lang. And that's what I've always wanted. Sinabi ko nga sa aking friend na si Hundun, hindi ba sobra sobra na ang paghihirap natin na kahit one time lang, maging masaya naman tayo? Eto na kaya ang pinakaaabangan ko?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... I don't want to think ahead. Baka maudlot. Pero sobrang daming nangyari within the last few days na sobrang haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... Like I always tell Jerome, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"can't eat... can't sleep... reach for the stars... over the fence... world series kind of thing..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lord, kung siya na please let everything fall into place. Pero kung hindi siya, eh Lord, pwede ba siya nalang? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/butterfly_031.gif" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110120122665378438?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110120122665378438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110120122665378438' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110120122665378438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110120122665378438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/ganyan-talaga-masaya.html' title='Ganyan talaga, MASAYA...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110096238608436243</id><published>2004-11-20T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-08T00:47:27.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still here?</title><content type='html'>I was digging through my old files in my computer yesterday, and I saw this blog entry that I wrote-but-never-published-so-I-saved-it-on-Notepad-instead. It was a killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Isn't it funny how you can miss someone so bad even if they're just sitting right in front of you?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when we're together I notice how he's not the same guy he was last year. Don't get me wrong. He's still sweet. He gives me stuff. Nice stuff. And he works on my car a lot. He cleans it, makes sure the tires are, uhh filled up?.. But somehow, I feel our relationship is nothing beyond that. We don't talk about stuff anymore. We only talk about cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't think it's mostly his fault, you know? Sometimes when we're together, I feel like there's this huge pressure to fill in the moments of silence. I feel so nervous when I'm around him, which I really like in a screwy and odd way. You know, the jitters. The extra effort to look really "nice" when he's coming over. The cooking for him and making/giving him something special. The being afraid to let him know that I'm with another guy (not in a bad way) just so he wouldn't get mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am trying too much. Oh what am I going to do? I hate that I love him! It was so much easier when he was this "dog" that kept popping out of nowhere. I hate that I have to always be the one to ask him to come over or watch a movie or have dinner. I hate that I think of him every single moment of my waking hours. Ooooooh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ruins everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care what you think. It does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one thing worth taking note of... Everytime we're hanging out in my room until late hours and I accidentally doze off, he always takes a glass of water and puts it on my bedside table before he sneaks out of the house. He knows that I always get thirsty in the middle of the night. It just drives me nuts how he could think of the littlest things to make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn him!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I wrote this during the last month of our "game". Sighhhhhhh... I'm tired. I never thought I'd be so tired at 21. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110096238608436243?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110096238608436243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110096238608436243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110096238608436243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110096238608436243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m still here?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110051142195050763</id><published>2004-11-15T16:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T22:46:24.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So what's the matter with you?</title><content type='html'>My friend's tita died. She died after a long and hard struggle with cancer. It got me thinking about my own death. I'm not being suicidal or anything. And I hope this isn't like a &lt;em&gt;death sign&lt;/em&gt; that people will say if I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; die later today or tomorrow. I'm not trying to be dramatic. I just want to go away in style. Hehehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No seriously, I have always told my friends what I want when my time comes. Ask Podi, Tyche, and Karen Martinez. Hahahaha! Actually, I have always wanted to write everything down, my last wishes, but I guess it kind of scared me then. See, I used to think that writing it down would call on to the Death gods and sort of give them a bell or a signal, "hey, she's ready." Well I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, first of all, I just want to share that I was gonna write &lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; I wanted to die, but I changed my mind. I guess, I still &lt;em&gt;am&lt;/em&gt; a little scared. Hehehehe. Anyway, back to my &lt;em&gt;first of all&lt;/em&gt;, I want to have a black casket. When I was younger I wanted a green casket, but I changed my mind. I want to have a sleek, shiny black casket, just like a car. Ahehehehe. And I don't want to have a wake. I'm sorry, but exposing my body lying down in a box for 3 days, I think will freak out my friends and family rather than mourn. And I don't want to be remembered like that. I don't want their final vision of me as trapped in a box where I'd be stuck forever. I want them to remember me as the &lt;em&gt;free&lt;/em&gt; person that I am. If my family insists on having a wake, I don't want my casket to be there, I'd rather them show pictures of me. &lt;em&gt;Parang exhibit ba!&lt;/em&gt; Hahahahaha! And I want it to be at my house in Cainta. It's the place where I was happiest, and I want people that I love to be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want white flowers. And only roses. White roses. Ok fine, even if their not all roses, I'm ok with that, but they have to be white. If anybody brings yellow, or red of even PINK, I'll kill myself. Feng Shui ito!!! Hahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my funeral, I want people to wear black. All black. No jeans. Pormalidad ito! Hehehe! (May dress code pa!) I don't want people to wear white. Please, no whites kung hindi niyo masisiguro na puting-puti ang damit niyo. Black kasi looks good kahit ano pang klaseng damit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am handpicking my friends to speak at my funeral. Si Dimple. Si Podi. My very dear friends from Assumption Antipolo and College of St. Benilde. I want to pick someone else from my work, sino pa nga ba?! Kilala mo kung sino ka! =) I'm picking these people because not only have they been there for me my whole fucking life, (well at least from the moment I've met them) but because they know me and they cut past the bullshit and say what they really feel. I also want my cousin Glad and my sister Ate Girls to speak at my funeral. Pero sandali lang ah. Joke!!! These are my two precious loved-ones. Sila ang mga pinakaingat-ingatan ko. And gusto ko din magsalita sa ate DR (pero ayoko ng callcenter voice ah! Hahahahah!). Nako, ang dami nang magsasalita ah... Aheheheheh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be burried at dusk. This is the most important. If possible, I even want to be burried when it's raining, but fine, medyo malabo na yun. So I want to be burried during the sunset. I want to see all of my loved ones' faces one last time during my favorite time of the day. I remember when I was a kid, I loved it when it was 5:00 to 6:00 in the afternoon. Right during the time when everything turns orange and you don't feel the sun pricking your skin as you play &lt;em&gt;patintero&lt;/em&gt; with your friends. The air becomes cool, and you feel the cold breeze on your neck. It's basically, the moment you feel refuge from the busy and tiring events of the day. And I want the ceremonies of the funeral to be done in the &lt;em&gt;sementeryo&lt;/em&gt;. Not in the church, or chapel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it to be a closed casket. I don't trust anybody else to do my make-up, especially with my eyes closed. And I want to put my picture in Lake Tahoe with my back turned to the camera as I looked at the lake on top of the casket. When I go, that's probably where I'd be spending most of my time. Reading a book. Eating a ham sandwich. Drinking Pepsi Blue. And it's sunset forever. =) I never have to deal with the hassles of life in the morning, and I don't have to feel tired and wander off to sleep at night. I'll be in my perfect place all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/me.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I want my husband or boyfriend to read my favorite poem made by friend &lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog/"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you look into my eyes before you start to speak &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;listen to what they have to say &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;because they hold more meaning &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;more truth &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;than any words would ever attempt to express&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you look as though you have lost &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all the will to look away &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as though your spirit has entered &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and would not leave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you look with full knowledge &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that you would never be able to look back &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that you would be mine &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and i would be yours forever and for eternity &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;would you look into my eyes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and brave the wonders in them &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;risking all that you have lived for &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;all that you are all you will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you look into my eyes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;before you start to speak &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;for i fear you have no idea &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;what you are about to ask of me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and what it holds for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;would you still look in my eyes &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;knowing all these things &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;knowing all you will risk &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;knowing all the danger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;please do not think i am dissuading you &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i apologize for being this way &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it is merely i am afraid that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when you look into my eyes i will lose all that i am too&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, please tell my parents not to cry.  I lived a wonderful life and it's all because of them.  Tell them how much I love them and how much I want to thank them for giving me all that a little girl could ask for.  Tell them I apologize for all the pain I might've caused them and all I wanted was to make them proud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I love you so much moms and dads.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nako, sobrang madrama na ito.  Scary! Parang ayoko na i-publish!!!  Oh what the heck!!!  If it's your time to go, then it's your time to go.  Ano baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110051142195050763?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110051142195050763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110051142195050763' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110051142195050763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110051142195050763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-whats-matter-with-you.html' title='So what&apos;s the matter with you?'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-110017906890362366</id><published>2004-11-11T21:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T21:18:05.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missin You</title><content type='html'>We have training right now. It's fun. It's good to have our old trainer back because we hardly ever see him after we went live. He's still the same old funny, sweet, nice Lod. Hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I miss Greg. Ahuhuhuhu... Ang drama nampucha! I've just been looking at his "stolen" picture in my phone (yuck psycho!!!). I can't help it. I had a dream about him last night. I forgot what the dream was, but it was nice. Well, it &lt;em&gt;felt&lt;/em&gt; nice at least. Haaaaay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pelading to all the Gods... &lt;em&gt;somebody save me.&lt;/em&gt; I don't care how you do it, just &lt;em&gt;save me. &lt;/em&gt;Hehehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-110017906890362366?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/110017906890362366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=110017906890362366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110017906890362366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/110017906890362366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/missin-you.html' title='Missin You'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109990605908644860</id><published>2004-11-08T16:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T17:27:39.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greg</title><content type='html'>I'm so happy today... =)  Present si...  Hmmmmm... Anong bagay na name sa kanya?  Gregory.  (Courtesy of Demetrio Cabulay. Hihi!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greg. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala lang, can't elaborate more kasi mega sekretong pagtingin ito!  Sobrang nakakahiya pag may nakaalam.  Huweeeeeeeeeeeeeeell...  Actually, sinabi ko na kay Jinggay.  Ahehehehe!  Pero nagpromise siya na secret lang pero mega nakakainis kasi tinutukso niya ako.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr!  Gumaganti ang lola mo.  Haaaaaaaaay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, meron akong bagong katanungan.  Yung mga food for thought cherva-ness.  Eto...  Pano ko ba ieexplain?  Hmmmmmmmmm...  Pumunta kasi ang asking &lt;strong&gt;ever-beloved friend&lt;/strong&gt; na si &lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog/"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt; sa aming floor yesterday.  At na-notice niya ang aking isang friend na hmmmm... sasabihin ko ba pangalan niya?  Fine, basta yung naka-white cap kahapon.  Hahahahahaha!  (&lt;strong&gt;Kilala mo kung sino ka!&lt;/strong&gt;)  Tinuro niya sakin ni &lt;a href="http://juantamad.com/whiteroom/blog/"&gt;Podi&lt;/a&gt; ang friend kong ito na may parang tingin na "pwedeeeeeeeeeee".  Umiling ako at nag-react, "may gusto na yan."  Sabi ni Podi, "eh ano ngayon?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pag dating namin sa kotse, mega diskusyon ito tungkol sa ganong senario.  &lt;em&gt;Pano kung itong isang tao na to, alam mo na may gusto sa isang tao tapos all of a sudden, nag-shift sayo, ok lang ba sayo?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang sagot ko, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;NEVER NO NEVER NO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  (Teka, just so we're clear, hindi ito naka-direct lang dun sa friend ko na naka-white na cap kahapon ah...  General question ito.)Bakit naman daw, sabi ni Podi?  Ako naman ang sagot ko diyan is, &lt;strong&gt;ayoko maging second choice noh!  &lt;/strong&gt;Alam niyo yun?  Aware ka kasi na, "ngek! Eh dati ang gusto mo siya, diba?  Anong nangyari, bakit nagbago ang ihip ng hangin?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang sagot naman ni Podi, sa kanya ok lang daw.  (Btw, let's assume in this situation na gusto niyo rin yung tao na yon ah...)   Ang gusto lang daw niya malaman is kung anong nangyari sa kanila kung bakit ganon...  Ok, eto ang kanyang exact words, "alam ko na gusto ko siya, and gusto niya ako.  Ngayon, ano ang nangyari sa kanilang dalawa bakit na-shift.  Kung nagustuhan niya ako dahil hindi lang talaga sila nag-work out nitong tao na to, eh di masama yon.  Kung ang reason ay hindi pabor sakin, eh di ok lang."  (Or samteeeeeng like dat!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay ewan!  Basta ako &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;NO NO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; parin.  I will not yield to that arrangement.  Like I said, &lt;em&gt;it's not a good enough offer for me.&lt;/em&gt;  So ayun lang po.  Kung merong violent reaction mga people dyan, go ahead.  (&lt;strong&gt;I'm talking to you Randz!!!&lt;/strong&gt;)  Hahahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, kisses, chicken grease.&lt;strong&gt; =)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109990605908644860?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109990605908644860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109990605908644860' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109990605908644860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109990605908644860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/greg.html' title='Greg'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109990293305959669</id><published>2004-11-08T16:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T16:35:33.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What the fuck?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anong hirit yan Randz?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109990293305959669?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109990293305959669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109990293305959669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109990293305959669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109990293305959669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/what-fuck.html' title='What the fuck?!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109979291262965515</id><published>2004-11-07T08:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-07T10:01:52.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Masaya</title><content type='html'>Ayun po mga kaibigan...  Jinggay and I had yet again another &lt;strong&gt;Date-day-Saturday&lt;/strong&gt; moment.  At ang question of the night is...  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Would you still go out with someone kahit alam mo na wala namang patutunguhan?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, alam ni Jinggay kung sino ang tinutukoy ko...  So yun na nga...  Ang sabi ni Jinggay, oo pero huwag daw magpapaapekto.  Ang hirit ko, "alam mo ba kung gano kahirap yon?!?!"  Totoo naman eh...  The more you go out with this person, the more you see him and realize na "pwedeeeeee".  &lt;em&gt;Lalo pa kung pareho kayong nangungulila sa pag-ibig, diba?&lt;/em&gt;  Shempre, babae ka at konting hawak ng kamay, akbay sa balikat at kiliti sa tagiliran, kahit wala lang yon, namamagnify at naeexaggerate ng puso at isipan mo.  Yung mga tingin tingin na yan... Nakowww!  Yung mga holding hands while crossing the street na naging holding hands while waiting for a table in a restaurant na naging holding hands while sitting down and ordering food.  Yung mga goodnight kiss na sobrang brief dahil para kayong nakukuryenta dahil alam niyo na &lt;strong&gt;MALI, MALI, MALI!!!!!!! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kung alam niyong mali, bakit niyo pa ginagawa?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CORREZ!!!  Bakit nga ba?  Eh alam ko naman na balikbaliktarin man ang mundo, hindi pwede, hindi pwede, HINDI PWEDE!!!!!!!!  It will never work out.  Bakit ka ako nagsasayang ng panahon para makasama siya?  Na dumaan sa bahay nila para magdala ng banana que?  Na ibigay ang mga mabababaw niyang luho?  Bakit mo pa ginagawa lahat nang yan eh alam mo namang walang patutunguhan? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is simple.  Because what if &lt;em&gt;does&lt;/em&gt; work out?  And let's face it, ang sarap din naman kasi ng may nahihila ka kapag feel mo manood ng movie at mag-dinner out at ng may kakwentuhan.  Nakakatawa din siyang tignan kapag hinihila ka niya with his left hand at hawak-hawak ang iyong bag with his right dahil pagod ka na maglakad at nababagalan na siya sayo.  Nakakaaliw din kung tatanungin mo siya kung bagay ba ang sapatos na sinusukat mo.  At lalong nakakataba ng puso kapag may pinapakita ka sa kanya sa mall isang cute at walang kwentang bagay at sasabihin niya with matching kunot ng noo, "ano ba yan, gaye!" tapos ikaw naman, sad at feeling rejected dahil napahiya ka dahil pumili ka ng isang napaka-walang kwentang bagay sa paningin niya, tapos makita-kita mo hawak-hawak na niya yung bagay na yon, binili na pala niya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi nga naman natin alam kasi.  Pano nga naman kung mag-work out pala?  Hindi naman tayo Diyos para malaman kung ano ang mangyayari sa future.  Pero ngayon... Hindi ko parin talaga alam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109979291262965515?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109979291262965515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109979291262965515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109979291262965515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109979291262965515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/masaya.html' title='Masaya'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109955233335861754</id><published>2004-11-04T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T15:12:13.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall For You</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I've been in love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A time or two&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I've seen the world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But not with you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna fly,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And spread my wings&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't wanna cry&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna sing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna live&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And take a chance&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm not afraid to love again&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna fall,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fall for you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I want you to fall for me too. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall For You by Shanice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May sikreto akong, sasabihin sayo...  May bago akong crush.  Hahahahahahaha!  Pano naman kasi, walang magawa dito sa office.  Wala si Adonis.  Yung mga tinetext ko, hindi nagrereply...  At ayun... Waaaaaaaaaaaaah!!  I can't take it.  And literal ang song na &lt;em&gt;Too Many Walls ni Cathy Dennis &lt;/em&gt;sa case namin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/viccourt.bmp" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... Miss ko na mga peeps.  Putanik, help me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109955233335861754?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109955233335861754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109955233335861754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109955233335861754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109955233335861754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/fall-for-you.html' title='Fall For You'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109945011281306282</id><published>2004-11-03T10:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T10:48:32.813+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fish Tayo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ey kids, no fighting in the comments box...  Peace tayong lahat!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109945011281306282?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109945011281306282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109945011281306282' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109945011281306282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109945011281306282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/11/fish-tayo.html' title='Fish Tayo'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109920318265520062</id><published>2004-10-31T13:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T08:38:01.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Butterflies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I see you in a different light...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Candle light...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Moonlight...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I see you in a different way...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Through different eyes...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And it's so nice...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an intresting weekend. Had a lot of fun Friday night with a friend. Had a lot of fun Saturday night with friends. I'm the family driver again and it was fine. Last night while I was driving home from taking my sister and cousin to work, I just started crying. I was playing with my Ipod in the car and all of a sudden, I hear the song &lt;em&gt;Color of Love &lt;/em&gt;by &lt;em&gt;Boyz II Men. &lt;/em&gt;My arms started to weaken, my knees started shaking and I had to cry. All of a sudden, it just hit me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's not coming back, Gaye.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Well he is, but not to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a painful realization. Painful because I always knew that he would never come back, I just didn't believe it. And why did I even want him back for? To make me feel insecure? To make me wait for hours until he calls? To make me feel I'm not good enough? To have me always second guessing everything he feels and thinks? To make me feel sad? To make me feel lonely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand why it took me this long to realize that even if he did come back, it would never be the same. Sabi nga ni Superman, "masyado nang maraming kakupalang nangyari." What made me think that having him back will make me forget everything he did, and all the mean and hurtful things he said? Why didn't I realize that everytime we're not together, all I'd be thinking is, &lt;em&gt;he's with her I just know it.&lt;/em&gt; Or everytime he says, "promise" that he's not crossing his fingers behind his back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The truth is, the butterflies died a long time ago. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I guess the reason why I was crying so hard last night was that I finally learned that this time I really can't get what I want. Because even if I did get him back, it's not really &lt;em&gt;him &lt;/em&gt;that I wanted. I wanted the feeling... The feeling of being taken cared of... The nervous feeling when I know I'm going to see him. The sleepless nights because I keep replaying the wonderful events of the day over and over in my head. The can't eat feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is never an issue. Like my friend told me, "if you love someone, you'd still love her after a hundred years no matter how much you deny it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true. &lt;em&gt;I still love you. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But see, I don't want to settle with just loving someone... I want to &lt;em&gt;truly&lt;/em&gt; love someone. Freely. And not having to worry if he truly loves me back... I want &lt;em&gt;magic&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You see... I just don't think that being "with you" is a good enough offer for me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been hurt, I have cried and I survived. &lt;em&gt;Finally, I can let it go...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You see, I don't want to settle for anything less than butterflies...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v40/menasha/butterfly_031.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109920318265520062?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109920318265520062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109920318265520062' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109920318265520062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109920318265520062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/butterflies.html' title='Butterflies...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109859328646491018</id><published>2004-10-24T13:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T12:56:05.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer Boy</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning... Sitting in a cirlce with the &lt;em&gt;gang&lt;/em&gt; in the San Lo Field, putting on my shin guards and socks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soccer Boy: Ang laki ng legs oh...&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ang yabang nampucha!&lt;br /&gt;Tall Guy: Uy, hindi malaki legs ni Gaye noh! Hindi nga proportioned yung legs niya sa katawan niya eh.&lt;br /&gt;(Everybody laughed)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ang yabang mo, isa ka pa!!!&lt;br /&gt;Soccer Boy: Uy, wag niyo apihin si Gaye, ithe-threaten kayo niyan...&lt;br /&gt;Me: Huh?&lt;br /&gt;Soccer Boy: Anong sabi mo sakin kahapon?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ahhhhhhhhh... Kapag ako pumayat tapos niligawan mo ako, di kita sasagutin! Hahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;Soccer Boy: Eh pano kung ligawan kita ng mataba ka?&lt;br /&gt;(Pause)&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;Putangina mo!  Hayop ka!  Bakit mo ako pinapa-sayko!  Tangina kang kupal ka!  Fuck you!  Sipain ko kaya mukha mo?!  Mamatay ka na!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;('jskdeeeeeeeing!!!) =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Anton, paabot nga mineral water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahaha!  Ayos!!!  Ang saya saya!  Way to go Gaye!  Di ka naman masyadong obvious, neh?  Dakila ka!!  Idol!! Wohoooooooooooooooooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;God, how I loathe myself!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109859328646491018?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109859328646491018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109859328646491018' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109859328646491018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109859328646491018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/soccer-boy.html' title='Soccer Boy'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109825414118520339</id><published>2004-10-20T13:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T14:38:29.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I just can't believe you're gone...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I don't want to remember, the things that we've been through. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the things that remind me of you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't want to hear the songs, the songs we used to sing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Coz I don't wanna feel the pain in my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Excerpt from Smallville Season 2 Ep. 16&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Chloe: "I want to let you in on a secret. I'm not who you think I am. In fact, my disguise is so thin, I'm surprised you haven't seen right through me. I'm the girl of your dreams masquerading as your best friend. Sometimes I want to rip off this facade like I did at the Spring Formal, but I can't because you'll get scared and you'll run away again. So I decided that it's better to live with a lie than expose my true feelings." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;[She starts to get choked up and stops reading for a second] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Chloe: This is so much easier when you're unconscious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;[She runs her fingers through his hair brushing Clark's bangs to one side of his head and starts to read again] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Chloe: "My dad told me there are two types of girls. The ones you grow out of and the ones you grow into. I really hope I'm the latter. I may not be the one you love today, but I'll let you go for now, hoping one day you'll fly back to me because I think you're worth the wait." [She puts the paper down on her lap and runs her fingers through his hair again. He stirs] Clark?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Clark: [Quietly Still out of it and eyes closed, groans] Lana? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;A tear slides down Chloe's cheek. She quickly puts the paper back in her hand bag and quickly gets up and starts leaving. When she gets to the door she looks back at where Clark is laying still asleep. She walks out and closes the door before starting to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay... This is such a bad day. It started out so good and right now I'm feeling so bad... Sigh!!! I hate it! I hate it! Feeling paranoid and depressed again. Feeling sick, and psycho... I hate it when I'm having a day like this. When you feel some sort of impending doom but you know that there's really nothing to go psycho about. Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME????????????????????&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109825414118520339?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109825414118520339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109825414118520339' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109825414118520339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109825414118520339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-just-cant-believe-youre-gone.html' title='I just can&apos;t believe you&apos;re gone...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109817086468283997</id><published>2004-10-19T15:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T15:27:44.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going sayko...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sino ba si Anonymous?  Magpakilala ka!!!!!!  Waaaaaaaaaaah!!! You're making me crazy!!!!! =)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quote of the minute:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;"When you dim your lights so someone else could shine, the whole world gets darker."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109817086468283997?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109817086468283997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109817086468283997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109817086468283997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109817086468283997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/im-going-sayko.html' title='I&apos;m going sayko...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109797848229396934</id><published>2004-10-17T09:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-19T15:10:08.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pain in my heart</title><content type='html'>It was an oh-so-fun weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - We went to Market Market, Cubao and galle. Mega shopping ito!!! Ano ba! Wala na akong pera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Oh so fun!!! First, we watched the NSI - Earthlink Cable game. We lost. But it's ok. It's all part of the grand scheme of things. Things happen for a reason. &lt;em&gt;(And the reason is you...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THEN&lt;/strong&gt; we went to Shangri-La to eat. We saw our ever beloved friend &lt;strong&gt;Adonis Estrada&lt;/strong&gt;. He was supposed to go to The Medical City (emphasis on the "&lt;strong&gt;The&lt;/strong&gt;") to have a check-up because his back is hurting. But we had coffee and everntually persuaded him to come with us to &lt;strong&gt;Antipolo&lt;/strong&gt;. Yahoooooooooo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tayo na sa Antipolo... At doon magpakalasing tayo... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the ride going up the mountains, mega bonding ito! At lalong-lalu na pagdating na mismo sa Cloud 9. It was fun. The food was great. Medyo mahal ang beer, pero keri lang. =) Putanik, I mean, &lt;strong&gt;Phunatik&lt;/strong&gt;, was so shang-sha! Which is really overwhelming because I go to Antipolo all the time and I've forgotten how beautiful it was and seeing Phunatik all excited and shang-sha was bringing back all the good memories when I was an Antipolo girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to the church. It was exceptional. It had &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; feeling. You know, it was really like going to the province where everything was so simple. You're hungry, you eat. You're feeling hot, you take a dip into the lake. You want to have fun, you go outside the streets and mingle with the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries. Like all problems disappeared for a moment. Like what I mentioned before in my blog... &lt;em&gt;For 5 minutes, you have peace.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went straight to my house to do a videoke marathon. Siyempre pasentihan ang chika ng mundo namin. Parang mamatay ka nalang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went back to the city. &lt;em&gt;Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity... -Eminem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the blinding lights and complicated life that we escaped for 6 hours. We went to The Fort Gloria Jeans and we continued to bond and talk about our lives. I got to know my friends more. When I started my new life as a &lt;em&gt;kasali-na-sa-workforce-ampowtah&lt;/em&gt; person, I never really thought I'd make friends. Well, ang lungkot naman nun, diba?! Pero di nga... But now... Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my friend Putanik, I mean, &lt;strong&gt;Phunatik&lt;/strong&gt;, (hehe) we got to know her &lt;em&gt;storyambuhay&lt;/em&gt; which is like I told her before, makes me believe in fairy tales again. Ok, ok, not really a fairy tale ending, &lt;strong&gt;YET&lt;/strong&gt;!!! But I really believe (in my heart) that she would find the person who would treat her the way she deserves to be treated, take care of her and love her unconditionally (like she says, someone who will accept how she became complete), laugh with her when she's being &lt;em&gt;an &lt;/em&gt;adik, give her a hug and let her cry when she's feeling sad and listening to Eva Cassidy's Time After Time, hold her hand when she's crossing the street, give her &lt;em&gt;small&lt;/em&gt; things that mean &lt;em&gt;the world&lt;/em&gt; like chocolates, someone she could freely love without having to feel scared, someone who could make her give in and let go, &lt;em&gt;someone who could make her forget that she ever cried&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we never know...  That person could be the next person who calls her &lt;strong&gt;"Jing!" &lt;/strong&gt;(Paki-clarify, madaming tumatawag sa kanya na Jing!)  Ahihihihihihi! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once that happens, I would be the happiest girl in the world because I know that love still works. If not for me, at least for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I changed my &lt;strong&gt;about me&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;in my template. It's now my favorite exerpt from the bible. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"If I have all faith as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing." 1 Corinthian 13:2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ano baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109797848229396934?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109797848229396934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109797848229396934' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109797848229396934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109797848229396934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/pain-in-my-heart.html' title='Pain in my heart'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109773759365812661</id><published>2004-10-14T14:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T15:06:33.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All The Signs Were There For Me To See</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;..if I cry out with fear I'd feel more afraid.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having a shitty week.  I feel so bad because I'm not improving at work and I know jobs come and go... But I love my work.  Not the work &lt;em&gt;work&lt;/em&gt; but the account, the people, the place, the friends I made.  Aaaaaaaaaargh!!!  And I'm quoting the song &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wonder &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;strong&gt;Embrace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; because like the first line says, &lt;strong&gt;"All the signs were there for me to see..." &lt;/strong&gt; and I'm feeling if I lose this job, I shouldn't be surprised because I knew all along...  I know as early as now that if I don't clean up my act I could lose.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All the signs were there for me to see,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I cry out with fear I'll feel more afraid,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So beat, the sense back into me,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos you are like forbidden fruit out of my reach&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I forgot what I have, sometimes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you can't get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;well its you wonder will save&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You were mine and now you're mine to want&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I knew if you'd cut the cord and rushed like balloons I'd fall&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Its criminal to pause as you basked in the season of I had it all&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I forgot what I had, sometimes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you can't get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and its all for the best its all alive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and everyone has their day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you just get in the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;well its you wonder will save&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;La,la,la,La,la,la,La,la,la...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't let them make you feel small with their hands like guns at your head,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;they'll claw but they'll never win if you let wonder in...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you can't get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and its all for the best its all alive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and everyone has their day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you just get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;well its you wonder will save&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cos if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you can't get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and its all for the best its all alive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and everyone has their day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if everyone has there shot and moves on&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you just get out the way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;well its you wonder will save&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah its you wonder will save&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah its you wonder will save.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wonder by Embrace&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109773759365812661?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109773759365812661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109773759365812661' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109773759365812661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109773759365812661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/all-signs-were-there-for-me-to-see.html' title='All The Signs Were There For Me To See'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109754673742405599</id><published>2004-10-12T09:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-12T10:05:37.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonder</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;All the signs, were there for me to see...  If I cried out with fear I'd feel more afraid.  So beat, sense back into me... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109754673742405599?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109754673742405599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109754673742405599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109754673742405599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109754673742405599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/wonder.html' title='Wonder'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109746077650711610</id><published>2004-10-11T07:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-11T12:55:20.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pogie: "You have to be strong for me."</title><content type='html'>Dahan-dahan ang lakad ko patungo sa kwarto ni Pog. Bago ko binuksan ang pinto tinignan ko pa ang pangalan sa pinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Michael Go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. Michael pala ang lolo mo... I slowly opened the door. It was 10:00 in the morning, he could still be asleep. Que Horror!!!!!!!! May babaeng nakaupo sa may kama ni Peter Michael Go. She was sleeping. She had her head on Peter Michael Go's bed. Matandang babae na sha. &lt;em&gt;Sino kaya ang taong to? Wala namang kamaganak si Pog dito ah. &lt;/em&gt;Tumingin ako kay Pogie... Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!! 40 years old na siya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MALING KWARTO!!! &lt;em&gt;Sabi ko na hindi naman Michael si Pog eh... Kaya nga P.O.G. eh... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumunta ulit ako sa nurse's station and tinanong ko kung anong room number ni Pog. So eto nanaman... The walking-slowly-carrying-a-big-basket-full-of-crap bit. Kumatok na ako sa room this time. Binuksan ng kid sister ni Pog ang pinto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gaye che-che!!" Biglang hug sakin si &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Pog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;(smaller version kasi ni Peter). Fine, fine, Patty ang pangalan niya... Let's refer to her as &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Patty&lt;/span&gt;. "Tagal ka na namin hinihintay eh!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chumika ng chumika ang bata... The whole time di ako makatingin kay Pog. Si &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Patty&lt;/span&gt; lang ang tinitignan ko na para bang siya ang dinalaw ko sa ospital. Haha! Nahihiya ako kay Pog... Alam ko na nakatingin siya sakin and it was killing me. Parang yung feeling ng mga babae sa novels ni Judith McNaught kapag tinititigan sila nung lalake habang nagsasayaw sila sa great ballroom sa mga parties and soirees ng &lt;em&gt;society&lt;/em&gt;. Yung tipong feeling mo natutunaw na yung buong katawan mo sa titig niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Natalie Imbruglia: "Put that face away, I'm melting for you...")&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapos dumating bigla yung huanapu nila para sunduin si Patty.  May tennis lessons pa kasi ang bata... Sheeeeeet!!!  Dississit!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O bat di ka makatingin?" sabi ni Pog with a weak smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, tuminigin na ako sa mukha niya.  It was horrible.  Hahahaha!  Hindi naman, pero kasi may mga sugat siya sa may left side ng mukha niya.  Tapos dun sa may left cheekbone niya may plaster.  Then his eye (left) was red kasi nung natusok siya ng glass tumagos hanggang sa mata.  Buti nga hindi siya nabulag eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shet!" Was the first word I said.  "Two-face!" was the second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tawa ng tawa si Pog and that sort of broke the silence.  Pinapunta ako ni Pog sa tabi niya and humiga ako and niyakap siya.  He told me what happened to him and I told him what happened to me and why I couldn't see him the past week.  He said he thought still mad about the book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello!!!" I said.  "Hindi naman ako ganon kababaw noh?"&lt;br /&gt;"Malay ko ba!"  He yelled back.  "Sorry nga pala tungkol doon ah...  Promise, once I get out of here I'll buy you that love book."&lt;br /&gt;"Ano ka ba Pog," I rolled my eyes.  "Kalimutan na natin yon!"&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi, I made a deal with God eh," he said, I was still lying beside him.  Suddenly, I couldn't look at him again.  "I told Him he'd have to let me live and see you again just so I could buy you that book..."&lt;br /&gt;"In exchange for what?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"If He did," he continued, "I'm going to apologize to my parents."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WOW!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gagawin mo ba talaga yon?" tanong ko.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, mukha namang He's keeping His end of the bargain eh," tawa si hayop.  "And sisimba na tayo every Sunday ah?"&lt;br /&gt;"Kapal mo ako lagi ako nagsisimba, ikaw lang naman ang demonyo eh," I said pinching him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it turns out something good &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; come out of this whole experience.  Ang lalakeng di nagsisimba at may fued sa kaniyang pamilya ay nanumbalik ang &lt;em&gt;peace&lt;/em&gt; with the Lord and with his family... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun lang.  Bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109746077650711610?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109746077650711610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109746077650711610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109746077650711610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109746077650711610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/pogie-you-have-to-be-strong-for-me.html' title='Pogie: &quot;You have to be strong for me.&quot;'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109677820975058366</id><published>2004-10-03T09:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-03T14:41:47.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sorry</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had that moment where everything is so perfect. No, there's nothing special going on... You're going through the normal course of your life. Going to work, there's no traffic. All the lights are green. You pass by a pretty road and you see the light seeping through a large tree. You get the feeling of summer when you were a kid. When you're out of the house and playing on the street as early as 2 pm and seeking refuge from the sun underneath huge Mango trees. Everything seemed so simple then. And you get a taste of what it was like for 5 minutes. For 5 minutes, everything is quite. For 5 minutes, you have peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wish I could have that 5 minutes again. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mige: "Gay,mige hir.Pog got n an accident dis am on d way 2 admu.He's n medical city n hes askin 4 u.Pls pnta ka."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parang gumuho ang mundo ko. Sobrang bilis ng tibok ng puso ko. Nanghina ako. Para akong nagexercise habang nagyoyosi. Naisip ko lang kung anong nangyari the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister, cousin and I went to Rockwell to watch a movie. We were supposed to watch Raising Helen but Secret Window seemed more appealing. We passed by Fully Booked to buy a history book for my niece. Then I remembered there was a book I saw on the net that I wanted to buy, but I couldn't remember it. Finally, it was time to go then just when we were about to pay the parking fee, it hit me! It was &lt;strong&gt;Judith McNaught's Someone To Watch Over Me&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I texted Pog right away because from school, he goes to Rockwell to fetch his cousin everyday. He said he'd love to do it. I even texted him the book's title and author twice to make sure he got it and his reply was, "Oo! Kulet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went home, watched TV. I was having a good night. Had a good meal. I was finishing the other book that I'm re-reading in preparation for the new one I was going to read. Then tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... 10:30 Pog called to say he was on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He arrived at 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he walked up the second floor where we usually hang out to watch &lt;em&gt;debede&lt;/em&gt;, I noticed he was carrying an unusually big book. I don't remember JM's books being ever that big. I asked him for the book and he handed me this &lt;em&gt;mala-bibliya&lt;/em&gt; black book with a grin on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ano yan?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jonathan Strange and Mr. Something," he said with a grin. "New York Time's bestseller daw yan. Sabi nung guy 4 and a half stars daw yan out of 5."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eh nasan na yung pinapabili ko?" I said, starting to become infuriated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Walang kwenta naman yon eh," he said. "Mas maganda yan. Parang Harry Potter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pog!!!" I cried. "Di nga?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Knowing Pog, I figured it was just a ploy to piss me off. I bet he had the book in his car and this is just a cruel joke.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oo nga," he said. "Tama na ang kakabasa ng mga love stories. Kaya ka nagkakaganyan eh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I punched his arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ouch!!" he said rubbing his arm. "Ano ba problema mo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pare ang simple simple ng pinapagawa ko eh!" I yelled. "Pwede ba for once pakinggan mo naman kung ano gusto ko and hindi nalang yung parating gusto mo ang nasusunod?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't be so dramatic Gaye, it's only a fucking book!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ganon naman palagi eh!" Somehow we managed to move in to my room so that people downstairs wouldn't hear us. "You always make me feel lik shit when you act like you don't care about things that are important to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can you say that?! Eh ikaw nga palagi ang iniisip ko!" &lt;em&gt;(Or samteeng!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kung ganon, wag mo na akong isipin!" I bitched. "Stop thinking you know what's best for me when you don't even know what's best for you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will you listen to yourself!" Nagagalit narin sha. "Galit na galit ka over a book! Bukas na bukas bibilhan kita nung &lt;em&gt;putanging&lt;/em&gt; librong yan! Puneta!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he went on about how I'm living in a wonderland where girls always get what they want and how that's not reality. He said that &lt;em&gt;somehow&lt;/em&gt; I'm still hoping that I would get *** back and I'm living my dreams through these type of books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Helloooooooooooooooooooo...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pwede ba pagbigyan mo man lang ako sa gusto ko pare," I shouted. "I AM NOT YOUR PROBLEM TO SOLVE!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then nag-intercom si ma tinatanong kung bakit ang ingay namin. Finally, tumayo si Pog from the bed and said, "I don't have to listen to this." And umalis na siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a stupid fight, I know. Pero I'm sick of him dictating what I should and should not do. He didn't call or text the whole night and ako naman ma-pride ang lola mo, hindi rin ako nag-text or tumawag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I went to NSI's basketball game in RFG. Everything was going well. Cris and I were supposed to go to greenhills afterwards, wala lang... Lakad lakad... Then I received that message from Mige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost couldn't drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To be continued...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109677820975058366?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109677820975058366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109677820975058366' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109677820975058366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109677820975058366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/10/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m Sorry'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109643777156622148</id><published>2004-09-29T13:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-29T14:59:47.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Acute Conjunctivitis Part 2</title><content type='html'>So... Back to my chika... After the movie, we went home and I wasn't feeling well. I knew I was coming down with something. And being with Pogie for more than3 hours is just plain exhausting. Ahehehehe! (Love you Pog!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I went to work and I found out I had ACUTE CONJUCTIVITIS!!! (Hence, the title of this post.) It was the worst! I hate being sick. Especially being a newbie and still trying to prove yourself. I bet iniisip ng mga tao, "ano ba tong newbie na to, kabago-bago puro problema!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sori na.....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went home. I went to sleep. And woke up the next day with the worst &lt;strong&gt;bad-eye-day &lt;/strong&gt;of my life. I spent pretty much the whole day in front of the TV, watching ETC, reading &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Judith McNaught's "Almost Heaven"&lt;/span&gt;. Then I slept. I woke up and I had a fever. Man oh man! Isabay pa ba sa trahedya? It's all because of the stupid medicine the doctor prescribed. Curse you &lt;strong&gt;MAXITROLL!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up the next day. My parents went to Nueva Ecija (tama ba spelling?), so tuloy ang saya!!! I was texting with Pogie the whole day yesterday, I think he felt bad when he said to my face, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Magiging matandang dalaga ka talaga!" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hahahaha! I think he felt worse when I said with a hurt expression, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"That is the meanest thing you've ever said to me."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;Ahuhuhuhuhu... So ayun, guilt trip ang hayop. Then he came by the house around 10:30. Wala kasi sila ma eh, kaya nagsasaya si gago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He brought food. Chicken Joy, oh so yummy! Pogie was even so polite as to not stare at my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;red-eye&lt;/em&gt; the whole time. Then Jinggay and Cris were supposed to come to my house, pero ang layo and di nila alam yung way and baka mahawa pa sila sa lola mo so ayoko naman na maging cargo pa ng konsensya ko yun! Pogie even offered to fetch them, pero wag nalang, kasi baka nga mahawa pa sila. So ayuuuuuun... We spent the rest of the day watching &lt;em&gt;debede.&lt;/em&gt; By the 3rd movie hindi na kami maka-concentrate. Ang sakit sakit na ng ulo namin and tawa lang kami ng tawa from over drinking of Coke. It even came to a point that all we said to each other was &lt;strong&gt;"yeah".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, aabutan niya ako ng pizza na inorder namin from Alvin's Pizza then sasabihin niya, "yeah?" Tapos ako naman kukunin ko yung pizza saying, "yeah!!!" Hahahahaha! Basta ang psycho, sobrang tawa lang ng tawa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapos I went online to email the team logo's I made for our team &lt;strong&gt;Little Mitch Philippines&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; And I was getting a little bit frustrated kasi feeling ko sobrang olats nung gawa ko and to top it all, yung &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BALAWIS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;na kaibigan ko hirit ng hirit, "ang baduy naman niyan!" or "hindi lang kayo puro babae sa team niyo, ok?! pang babae yan eh!" At alam mo yun, yung mukha niya talaga parang apektadong-apektado siya! Feeling mo kasali siya sa team and greatly offended ang beauty niya sa hitsura ng logo... Finally, pinabayaan nalang niya ako at nanood na siya ng TV.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went online nakita ko si &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mr. Sexy Voice Malvar&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/strong&gt;I showed him the logos I was making and he said medyo girly nga ng konti... Eh sobra na akong nafufustrate talaga. So I think humirit ako ng:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: Haaaaaaaaaaaaaay... Fuck talaga!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: Bakit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: Wala na akong ginawang mabuti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: Ano ka ba, hindi noh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: Haaaaay... Kung alam mo lang ang storyambuhay ko...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: Haha. I-reserver na sa inuman yan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: Pero let me tell you this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: Ano?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Hindi mo ba napapansin how people light up when they see you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Shempre, sorbang na-touch ang lola mo!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: Wushuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ivanlicious&lt;/strong&gt;: Hindi nga&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chuva_gurl&lt;/strong&gt;: (actually I forgot what I said na ahehehehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really made my day. Sobrang unexpected compliment talaga! And coming from Ivan pa... Nakuuuuuu... After that medyo naging mabait na ako kay Balawis and tawa nalang ulit kami ng tawa. Wahahahahahahahahaahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ayun na nga... not much chika after that. Gusto ko lang talaga i-document yung nangyari over the weekend. Btw, ang saya-saya ng mga pangyayari with Miguel today. If I still had a crush on him I would be so kilig and would be writing a pagkahaba-haba pagnanasa entry about it in my blog, pero wala na... Kapiranggot na crush nalang kaya kapiranggot na entry din. Mwahahahahahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;PINK IS THE COLOR OF THE DAY!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffccff;"&gt;PINK IS THE COLOR OF MY LIFE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109643777156622148?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109643777156622148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109643777156622148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109643777156622148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109643777156622148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/acute-conjunctivitis-part-2.html' title='Acute Conjunctivitis Part 2'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109632830635517949</id><published>2004-09-28T07:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T14:05:55.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Acute Conjunctivitis</title><content type='html'>Whataweekend!!! Sobrang whataweekened!!! I wanna recap everything that happened since Thursday. &lt;strong&gt;But first, gusto ko muna i-chika na may sinabi sakin si Mr. Sexy Voice Ivan Malvar last weekend na hinding-hindi ko makakalimutan! Sobrang sweet and sobrang unexpected and sobrang nice.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dude, tayo nalang nakakaalam nung sinabi mo, pero it was really so nice and you really made my day. (Yuuuuuuck! Ang drama! Hahahahaha!) Ayun na nga... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start with Wednesday pala, not Thursday. Feeling ko itong araw na ito ang dahilan kung bakit ako nagkasakit.  Nanood kami ni BestPren Pogie ng 13 Going on 30.  It was fun.  I enjoyed the movie.  But we watched in an old abandoned theatre and was almost empty except for 2 folks sitting waaaaaaaaay in front.  Pogie and I talked and talked all throughout the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was being the same old bossy-know-it-all Pogie again.  This time, he was telling me the reasons why I would end up alone forever.  Lemme see if I could remember some of his arguments...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;I'm too nice&lt;/strong&gt;.  He said the only way guys could see me is as borderline one-of-the-boys or kid-sister.  He said my like of boy-ie things such as cars and sports makes me a mere kabarkada and competition even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;I'm too&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;independent&lt;/strong&gt;.  He said guys like girls who would need them once in a while.  Hindi raw katulad ko na kung titignan mo halos wala nang room for needing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;I'm too picky&lt;/strong&gt;.  He said the "matangkad, maitim, left-handed, soccer player" ideal guy that I set for myself is a litte too immature and there's like a million to one chance that I will ever find a guy like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now for my comback...  Sabi ko...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hindi ko alam kung anong masama sa pagiging nice.  Eh mabait talaga ako eh.  Sabi niya, yung ginawa ko daw for Jojo na dinalhan ko sha ng gamot at 3 am in the morning nung natusok sha nung yero sa may likod ng bahay nila was a bit over the top daw. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unang-una, eh nangangailangan yung tao eh.  Pano kung mamatay na yun sa tetano?  Besides, I'd do it for anyone.  Sabi ni Pog, "yun na nga!  You'd do it for anyone!"  Mahirap daw tuloy makita kung kanino daw talaga ako interisado kasi I'm nice to everyone.  Heller!!!  Hindi naman kasi ako &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sabik&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; na lahat ng tao ginagawa kong potential.  Hindi ako &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;desperado&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; at &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;hayok&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe that's your problem," sabi ng hayop.  "Dapat i-assume mo na lahat ng tao pwedeng maging potential.  He could be looking at you right now.  He could be desperately, in love with you but he's just too chicken shit to tell you.  And watching you play nice with everyone is making him wonder if he's special at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napatahimik ako.  I doubt that guy exists, but if he does, eh ewan!  Sige, let's say na ang &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nice girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; attitude is being considered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ok, what's wrong with being independent.  I'm not one of those girls na hindi mabubuhay ng walang kasama!  Isn't independence supposed to be a good thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good thing nga," Singgit si hayop.  "Pero minsan maganda naman na hinihingan mo rin ng tulong yung lalake.  Hindi yung para na siyang nagiging useless sayo.  Like, palagi ka nalang nagdadala ng kotse.  Kahit susunduin kita, gusto mo ikaw pa magdadala ng car, eh ako nga susundo sayo eh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained to Pogie was, minsan kasi I feel bare without my car.  Alam mo yun, it's my haven.  Safety net ko na I know if ever shit happens, pwede ako umeskapo agad.  So ang hirit naman ni gago...  "Yun pa, ang hirap mo kasi mag-trust!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry po!! Tao lang!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Hindi kaya ako madaming standards, heroh!!!  The &lt;em&gt;matangkad, maitim, left-handed, soccer player&lt;/em&gt; parang perfect guy lang yon for me.  It doesn't really mean anything.  And what's wrong with having standards?  Sa totoo lang eto lang talaga ang hinahanap ko sa mga lalake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mabango&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&gt; kahit ano pa itsura mo, basta mabango ka ang gwapo-gwapo mo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;funny&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&gt; at hindi yung funny na puro panlalait at pananakit ang alam, kailangan yung talagang genuinely funny na wholesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;maganda watch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&gt; i admit, may fetish ako pagdating sa watches.  Kung iba ang unang tinitignan sa tao shoes, eyes, o ass, ako watch!  You can tell a lot about a guy through his watch.  Ugali, personality, taste, style etc.  Everybody can go wrong and be a fashion victim for one day or even one week...  But a watch is forever.  Hehe.  You can have only one great watch and you'll be set for life.  If your watch can go with anything...  Casual look, formal look, shorts etc, then I think you can go with anything as well.  It's a weird perception in life, I know, but it's just my thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hindi feeling&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&gt; chohs!! Ang pinaka-ayaw ko talaga yung mga assuming na tao.  Punyeta!  Yung mga feeling nila may gusto ako sa kanila, tapos magfufumiling na!  Ay punyeta talaga!!  Paki-clarify, ang gwapo mo eh!  Basta &lt;strong&gt;ayoko&lt;/strong&gt; nung mga &lt;strong&gt;KSP&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;bibbo&lt;/strong&gt;, yung mga &lt;strong&gt;nagnanasang maging miyembro ng SCQ or Star Struck&lt;/strong&gt;.  Sa totoo lang, mas naaliw ako sa mga &lt;strong&gt;mahiyain&lt;/strong&gt; na lalake.  Mas cute eh.  Hihihihihi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun lang po.  Now, kung mababaw ako for having those standards, eh I'm sorry.  Tao lang po!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break muna, pagod na ako... May sakit pa ako eh... &lt;em&gt;(Wawa...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109632830635517949?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109632830635517949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109632830635517949' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109632830635517949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109632830635517949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/acute-conjunctivitis.html' title='Acute Conjunctivitis'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109565723011535058</id><published>2004-09-20T07:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T15:45:46.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lupeeeeet...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;There's a light in your eyes, but it's too bright to see... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And pain in my heart where you used to be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I guess I was wrong to believe you were waiting for me... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Coz there's a light in your eyes but not for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;There's this guy who was so inlove with this girl but never had the courage to tell her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;After years of not seeing her, he saw the girl's bestfriend...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;Guy: "How is she?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffff99;"&gt;Girl: "She just got over you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;Sometimes, you just don't want to go near the person you admire and desire...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;You're afraid to see his imperfections...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;But more afraid to see you've fallen in love with him so much...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Funny, when you wait for the right person to come along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;you always end up with the wrong one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;But if you just sit at one corner and forget that he exists, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;he comes and asks if he could share that corner with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;Sometimes in life you wish for something&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;Then there comes a moment when you stop wishing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;Not because you got what you wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;But you finally realize that not all wishes can come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;It's hard to pretend you love someone if you really don't...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;"&gt;But it's harder to pretend you don't love someone if you really do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;Have you noticed that the worst way to miss someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;is when they're sitting right beside you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;and yet you can never have them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#99ffff;"&gt;and you'll just sit around and watch them fall for someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcccc;"&gt;The hardest thing in the world is loving someone who used to love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;Perhaps the best thing in life is being able to choose the one we love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffffcc;"&gt;And perhaps the worst thing is not being able to choose the one who will love us back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;It's sad to long for someone you can't talk to, can't be with,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;someone you couldn't reach... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;But sadder if you fall for someone you can talk to and can be with, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;but that person can't love you back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Tama na muna ang ka-sentihan... Yosi break.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109565723011535058?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109565723011535058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109565723011535058' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109565723011535058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109565723011535058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/lupeeeeet.html' title='Lupeeeeet...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109558099835691283</id><published>2004-09-19T15:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T16:03:18.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Migs: "It's empty."</title><content type='html'>Ewna ko ba kung bakit, pero parang gusto ko nang i-labas ang lahat lahat ngayon, tutal tapos na naman... Haaaaay...  If you've been reading my blog religously, like my cousin in the states na itago nalang natin sa pangalang &lt;strong&gt;Paraluman&lt;/strong&gt;, you may have questions about the recurring phrases or statements in my blog na walang sense sa inyo, pero super may sense sa lola mo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, ang ieexplain ko sa inyo ngayon ay yung phrase na "it's empty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time kasi, dumaan ako sa workstation niya naghahanap ako ng prong.  Hellooooo...  Medyo obvious siguro kasi ang layo ng workstation niya sa amin dahil hindi nga siya normal na nilalang.  Eh late na ang lola mo at hindi pa ako nakakapag-setup ng tools kaya mega in a rush na talaga lahat.  So nung lumapit ako sa kanya, sabi ko, "do you have an extra prong that you're not using?"  English only policy, I'm sorry!  Sabi niya, "Uh, wait," the he pulled out a box from underneath his table, "meron ata dito sa box na to eh..."  Eh medyo mahirap buksan yung box na tupperwear at nahihiya naman talaga ako sa hassle so sabi ko, "no it's ok. Hanap nalang ako sa iba, thanks!"  So eh di ayun... tumakbo na ulit ako pabalik sa area namin.  Tapos narinig ko may tumatakbo din sa likod ko so lumingon ako, tapos dala dala niya yung box ng prong that I'm guessing kinuha niya sa loob nung box na tupperwear.  He shook the box and told me, "&lt;strong&gt;It's empty."&lt;/strong&gt;  Then gave me an apologetic smile... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...  Bakit naman kasi kailangan pang maging sobrang bait na tatakbo pa sha after me para lang sabihin na walang laman yung box ng prong eh... Bakit?!  Bakit?!  O, bakit?!  Ayun lang po...  Gusto ko lang ipamahagi.  Bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109558099835691283?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109558099835691283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109558099835691283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109558099835691283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109558099835691283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/migs-its-empty.html' title='Migs: &quot;It&apos;s empty.&quot;'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109557903514828775</id><published>2004-09-19T14:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T15:30:35.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wala na</title><content type='html'>Sa totoo lang, parang ang lungkot ng feeling.  Hindi dahil nalaman ko na may better half na si Miguel.  Dahil lang... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Empty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alam niyo yun?  Ok naman ang lahat today, pero alam mo na wala ka nang karapatang pagnasaan ang QA ng ibang unknown account.  Hay!  Kung tutuusin, eto na ang pinaka-masayang araw dapat ng buhay ko, (exagge) pero hindi...  Kasi ngayon, alam niyo yun?  Alam mo na na hindi mo pwedeng i-sensationalize ang bawat kilos at galaw ng isa't-isa.  Wala nang mga hidden meanings (na sa totoo lang nasa utak mo lang naman).  Wala nang mga "side looks and half smiles" na pwedeng gawan ng pagkahaba-habang entry sa blog.  Wala na...  Wala na...  Wala na... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wala na nga ba, iha?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dapat lang!  Kasi ano pa nga bang mapapala ko kung hindi sama ng loob at depression.  Haaaaay...  Siguro mashado lang akong na-excite kasi ngayon nalang ulit ako nagka-&lt;em&gt;crush&lt;/em&gt; in a looooong time.  (Aren't I too old to have crushes?)  Bakit ba!  Hindi naman masama yon ah.  I'm in a new place, with new people so inevitable na na magkaka-&lt;em&gt;object of my affection&lt;/em&gt; ako, devah?  Haaaaay...  Gusto ko lang muna mag-senti galore ngayon and wala na akong paraan kung pano gawin ito kung hindi... Magpost ng mag-post ng mga kalungkutan quotes at poems... Mwahahahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eto poem ko para kay howe dati... (Alam ko walang connection kay Miguel, pero gusto ko lang i-share...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When the rain is blowing in your face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and the world is in your case&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'd offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When the evening shadows and stars appear,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and there is no one there to dry your tears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I don't regret the rain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;or the nights I felt the pain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Or the tears I had to cry, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;some of those times along the way&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And every road I had to take,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;everytime my heart would break&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;It was just something I had to get through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;to get me to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;For it was not into my ear you whispered,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but into my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109557903514828775?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109557903514828775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109557903514828775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109557903514828775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109557903514828775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/wala-na.html' title='wala na'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109555399189451372</id><published>2004-09-19T08:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-19T08:33:11.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wonderland</title><content type='html'>So many things happened over the weekend.  All I can say is...  Miguel is no longer available.  Marvin and I passed by his workstation when we had to stay late for training and I saw a &lt;strong&gt;wedding ring.&lt;/strong&gt;  Then I remembered what my trainer said to me during training...  Haaaaay...  And there was another incident...  Haaaaay... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a poem for you Miguel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Come in, I've been expecting you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a knock on the door and love walks through&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He lights a fire and smiles...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A smile?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Still, love would stay a while&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the fire breathes and weaves its spell&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But then, love runs out of lies to tell&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For love is restless, love's a flirt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love has places to go, and peopleto hurt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So here's a shovel to smother the flame&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tomorrow you'll barely remember my name&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I'll try to forget you my dearest one&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As a person who tries to forget the sun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;For life holds no purpose&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love holds no charms&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Since I beheld you,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In another's arms.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109555399189451372?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109555399189451372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109555399189451372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109555399189451372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109555399189451372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/wonderland.html' title='wonderland'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109522960138557212</id><published>2004-09-15T10:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T14:26:41.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not merry christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;It's not Merry Christmas...  It's a half smile and a nod.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's back.  My boyfriend's back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear Jerome's voice with matching echo... &lt;strong&gt;"ASA!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine.  &lt;em&gt;Libre lang naman mangarap diba?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's here.  Finally.  After 100 years.  Turns out he still has the same sched.  Still has the same goofy smile.  Still has the same soft voice.  And still has the same smell.  Same old, same old Miguel.  Hahahahahaha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking this morning if I still didn't see him today, then &lt;em&gt;it's over and done, but my heartache lives on inside...  And who is the one you're clinging to, instead of me, tonight?  And where are you now?... YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME FALL APART!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth to gaye, come in gaye...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy when I saw him.  &lt;em&gt;Naturally.&lt;/em&gt;  I dunno...  Mixed emotions.  Red really &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; my lucky color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more serious note.................................  &lt;strong&gt;Howe's back!!!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called me last night on my cell and started acting all psycho again.  (Kneels down and prays... &lt;em&gt;God, bakit lagi nalang psycho?  Hindi ba pwede one time lang matinong tao naman?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone in my room is unplugged now because since Sau left, nobody ever calls me in my secret number anymore, and my parents didn't sleep at home last night so nobody was answering the phone so he called my cellphone.  It was 11:30 and I was already falling in love in my dream.  Then the fucking phone rings.  I answer it immediately without really thinking about it.  And his greeting was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wake up, may sunog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" With matching sigaw ang lolo mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tangina ka!" Was all I could say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he went on and ooooooon and oooooooon about work and life and his car and my car and what he thinks we should do regarding the repainting and the mags and all that.  Blah!  Then the conversation turned into one of his "I miss you" bullshit.  Until it came to the "let's go out sometime" nonsense.  Sighhhhhhhhhh... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dear Howe,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't know what you want from me anymore.  Why are you still doing this to me?  I can't move on with my life with you always breathing down my neck everytime I see one glimpse of hope.  I can't be in love with you forever.  And I'm not anymore.  Please, leave me alone. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naks! Ang drama ng lola mo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to talk about this anymore.  I have an update about Miguel... Ahihihihihihi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109522960138557212?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109522960138557212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109522960138557212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109522960138557212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109522960138557212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/its-not-merry-christmas.html' title='it&apos;s not merry christmas!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109511974283492029</id><published>2004-09-14T07:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T07:55:42.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling ko talaga yun na ang mga susunod na salita na sasabihin namin sa isa't-isa... Ahuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye Miguel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109511974283492029?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109511974283492029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109511974283492029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109511974283492029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109511974283492029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109506046879208184</id><published>2004-09-13T15:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-13T15:27:48.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the object of my affection part 2</title><content type='html'>It's weird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I'm knowing more about the object of my affection 2 rather than &lt;strong&gt;Miguel&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;through my ever reliable and ever friendly friend batchmates.  So far, the object of my affection is &lt;em&gt;single, oldest of 3 brothers and wears a gorgeous watch.&lt;/em&gt;  (You know my look nice-watch, nice-guy policy, right?  No?  Oh well...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, I'm going to stop writing about Miguel for now...  Maybe for the rest of the day.  Ahihihihi!  My cover is in deep shit!  People might find out about him... Ahehehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shhhhhhhhhhh...  Goodnight sweet prince.  And may flocks of angels seek thee to they rest.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109506046879208184?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109506046879208184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109506046879208184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109506046879208184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109506046879208184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/object-of-my-affection-part-2.html' title='the object of my affection part 2'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109503563997014550</id><published>2004-09-13T07:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-13T08:50:06.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'>so much for my happy ending...</title><content type='html'>I don't think I'm ever going to see &lt;strong&gt;Miguel&lt;/strong&gt; again. It's been daaaaaaaaaayz... And you know how days can go by so fast when you're terribly missing someone. I especially tried to look and smell good today. Haha! But is he here? Nooooooooooeeeew... What if I never see him again until January? What if then next words uttered in our mouths would be, "Merry Christmas!"? Or worse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Oy, birthday mo pala ngayon? Happy birthday!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's FEBRUARY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm losing all hope. I want to take tomorrow off. I think I need and &lt;em&gt;deserve&lt;/em&gt; a break. I want to die. This is all this stupid workstation's fault!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, it's Sunday in the states today. I hope I don't get weird calls. And I think there's another potential object of my affection around me. I've had an eye on him since the first week of training. Hihihihihihihihi! But there's no kilig factor like Miguel. Btw, I caught a glimpse of him, but only just... Where? I'm not gonna tell you! A girl should have secrets!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, to those of you emailing and asking, &lt;em&gt;I'm a girl dammit!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't even have the strength to type anymore. I'm going to add another food for thought for you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1. I always wanted to have some one to hold, someoneto love. And now that you've come into my life...(Inside card) - I've changed my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2. I must admit, you brought religion into my life...(Inside card) - I never believed in Hell until I met you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3. As the days go by, I think how lucky I am....(Inside card)- That you're not here to ruin it for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;4. Congratulations on your promotion. Before you go....(Inside card) - Will you take the knife from my back? You'll probably need it again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;5. Someday I hope to marry.(Inside card) - Someone other than you.6. Happy Birthday! You look great for your age....(Inside card) - Almost lifelike!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;7. When we were together, you said you'd die for me..(Inside card) - Now we've broken up, I think it's time to keep your promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;8. We've been friends for a very long time.(Inside card) - What do you say we stop?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9. I'm so miserable without you...(Inside card) - It's almost like you're still here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;10. Congratulations on your new bundle of joy...(Inside card) - Did you ever find out who the father was?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;11. You are such a good friend. If we were on a sinking ship and there was only one life jacket...(Inside card) - I'd miss you terribly and think of you often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;12. Your friends and I wanted to do something really special for your birthday...(Inside card) - So we're having you put to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;13. Happy Birthday, Uncle Dad!(Available only in Alabama, Mississippi, and West Virginia)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;14.Looking back over the years we've been together, I can't help but wonder...(Inside card) - What was I thinking?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;15. Congratulations on your wedding day!...(Inside card) - Too bad no one likes your husband&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109503563997014550?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109503563997014550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109503563997014550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109503563997014550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109503563997014550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/so-much-for-my-happy-ending.html' title='so much for my happy ending...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109495171123668212</id><published>2004-09-12T07:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-12T09:15:11.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whiskey</title><content type='html'>I miss him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been what?! 4 freaking days?!  Why the hell is this happening to me?  Why now?  Now when I have "the reason".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And the reason is you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this all has something to do with the new workstation they transferred me to.  &lt;em&gt;Dark.  Lonely.  Cold.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that how my life is going to be from now on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dark.&lt;/em&gt;  What I hate about this workstation is I can't see the pantry.  That's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lonely.  &lt;/em&gt;No one around here is talking to me.  I miss Marvin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cold.  &lt;/em&gt;Literally.  It's like 1000 fucking degrees out here! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess what's making this place even darker, lonelier and colder is the fact that I haven't had &lt;em&gt;contact&lt;/em&gt; with Miggy.  (Yuck! Whatanickname!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I woke up there was no sense of "I have to wake up and move fast because I get to see Miguel today".  I admit, his face did enter my mind while I was having a battle with myself whether I should go to work or not.  But it wasn't as effective as it used to be.  It used to work like a &lt;em&gt;snap&lt;/em&gt;, but it didn't earlier...  I wonder why that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess because I've been so used to not seeing him these past couple of days that I've forgotten how it felt like.  Darnit! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's empty.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck!  Whenever I think about that... aaaaaaaaaargh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, I got a message from howe last night.  He said, "bago kong number dito, tawagan mo ako!"  &lt;em&gt;Demanding ampowtah!&lt;/em&gt; Of course I &lt;em&gt;didn't&lt;/em&gt; call him.  Ano siya pensionado?!  And if he wanted to talk to me, why doesn't he call me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!&lt;/em&gt;  I don't know anymore.  I'm outtie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109495171123668212?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109495171123668212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109495171123668212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109495171123668212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109495171123668212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/whiskey.html' title='Whiskey'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109471306323931053</id><published>2004-09-09T14:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T14:57:43.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pakulo nanaman!</title><content type='html'>It's been a weird-ass day.  Not as tiring as yesterday, but they relocated me and Marvin to another station and for me it was the &lt;em&gt;dark area.&lt;/em&gt; So sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for &lt;strong&gt;Miguel&lt;/strong&gt; we only had a quick "hi" this morning.  Dammit!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I wanna put another &lt;em&gt;food for thought.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THINGS TO DO IN AN ELEVATOR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) When there's only one other person in the elvator, tap them&lt;br /&gt;on the shoulder and then pretend it wasn't you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Push the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile,&lt;br /&gt;and go back for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Ask if you can push the button for other people, but push the&lt;br /&gt;wrong ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Call the Psychic Hotline from your cell phone and ask if they&lt;br /&gt;know what floor your on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Hold the doors open and say your saiting for a friend. After&lt;br /&gt;a while, let the doors close, and say, "Hi Greg. How's your day&lt;br /&gt;been?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Drop a pen and wait until someone goes to pick it up, then&lt;br /&gt;scream, "That's mine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Move your desk into the elevator and whenever anyone gets on,&lt;br /&gt;ask if they have an apointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Lay down the twister mat and ask people if they would like to&lt;br /&gt;play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Leave a box in the corner, and when someone gets on, ask&lt;br /&gt;them if they can hear ticking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Pretend you are a flight attendant and review emergency&lt;br /&gt;procedures and exits with the passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Ask, "Did you feel that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) When the doors close, announce to the others, "It's okay,&lt;br /&gt;don't panic, they open again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Swat at flies that don't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Tell people that you can see their aura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Call out, "Group Hig!"and then enforce it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and&lt;br /&gt;muttering, "Shut up, all of you, just shut up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering&lt;br /&gt;inside, ask, "Got enough air in there?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) Stand silently and motionless in the corner, facing the&lt;br /&gt;wall, without getting off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce in&lt;br /&gt;horror, "Your one of THEM!" and back away slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) Wear a puppet on your hand and use it to talk to the other&lt;br /&gt;passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) Listen to the elevator walls with your stethoscope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Stare, grinning at another passenger for a while, then&lt;br /&gt;announce, "I have new socks on".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to&lt;br /&gt;the other passnegers, "This is MY personal space!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109471306323931053?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109471306323931053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109471306323931053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109471306323931053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109471306323931053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/pakulo-nanaman.html' title='Pakulo nanaman!'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109462840333673250</id><published>2004-09-08T15:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T14:29:28.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ayoko naaaaaaaaaa...</title><content type='html'>nawala lahat ng pinost ko! punyeta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109462840333673250?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109462840333673250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109462840333673250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109462840333673250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109462840333673250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/ayoko-naaaaaaaaaa.html' title='ayoko naaaaaaaaaa...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109462794101127224</id><published>2004-09-08T14:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-08T15:19:01.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my so called fucking life</title><content type='html'>With regard to my "live" life, this is the most frustrating, iritating and tiring day so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I understand you're frustration ma'am.&lt;/em&gt;  Fuckers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And worst of all, I didn't have contact with &lt;strong&gt;Miguel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a brief, two-liner conversation that pretty much wrapped up the happiness I felt yesterday.  Last night...  Oh my god...  I was still in cloud nine.  I could't be happier.  I swear to God, I slept with a smile in my face.  (Except when Bryce kept making noise in my bedroom.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the hideous experience with work, I lacked, &lt;em&gt;the feeling&lt;/em&gt;.  Oh my God!  I am so pathetic...  I've become one of those girls... Well, come to think of it, I am &lt;em&gt;one&lt;/em&gt; of those girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can you fucking blame me?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want a reason to get up in the morning.  Something to look forward to.  I want the half smiles, when you see each other in the hall...  The stolen looks...  The faint, cool wind that rushes through your neck when he walks behind you.  (Parang feeling ko kinakalabit niya ako. Hehe!)  You know, just the plain consiousness that he's within the same breathing environment.  Oooooooooooooooh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong with me?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, I should tell you that what I feared in my previous blog, about the whole "playing around with his friends or flirt with a babe" thing &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; happen today, and it SUCKS!  I know, they've been through so many things together because they've been together long...  But...  Sighhhhhhhhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pathetic.  I'm so down.  I have to die...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only 40 minutes till the end of the shift.  When I come home I am going to yank my friend's 24 vcds and &lt;em&gt;karir na ito!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109462794101127224?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109462794101127224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109462794101127224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109462794101127224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109462794101127224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/my-so-called-fucking-life.html' title='my so called fucking life'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6152010.post-109453718820659936</id><published>2004-09-07T11:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-07T14:09:43.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>why... why...</title><content type='html'>Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, as I ventured into this new phase in my life I have &lt;em&gt;entertained&lt;/em&gt; the &lt;em&gt;possibility&lt;/em&gt; of &lt;em&gt;liking&lt;/em&gt; someone. I originally thought it would be this certain someone, but now it turns out to be someone else completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone I would never have thought possible that I would like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. Why &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why not him?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's nice. Seems to be funny. And he has the qualities I like in a &lt;em&gt;guy&lt;/em&gt;. Which are?.. Naaaah. Maybe next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the question is, what's gonna happen now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. Nothing ever happens with guys &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; like. Well, actually, disaster strikes. Or worse, just plain &lt;em&gt;null.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I never seem to get what &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; want? I always end up with guys stupid enough to be in &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; with me, and I just end up liking them back. Why is that? Is there a grand scheme that forbids me to at least for &lt;em&gt;once&lt;/em&gt; get what I want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who I want...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What usually happens is, I make this whole mess with the object of my affection and we either end up as bestfriends or best&lt;em&gt;enemies&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We become close and while taking a deeper look, I realize that he's not really &lt;em&gt;all that &lt;/em&gt;and I fall out of &lt;em&gt;like&lt;/em&gt; for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worst case scenario, I like him with all my might and he doesn't know I exist and I just sit quietly while I watch him playing around with his friends or while he flirts with some hot &lt;em&gt;babe &lt;/em&gt;(what a cliche! haha!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what would happen with me and hmmmm... What's a good code name for him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miguel&lt;/strong&gt;. (courtesy of my friend Cris.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will we finally have &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; happy ending I &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I deserve? Or will I once again yield to the grand scheme of things called &lt;em&gt;fate&lt;/em&gt; where I never get what I want and I am doomed to wander the planet alone forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We'll see...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6152010-109453718820659936?l=menasha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/feeds/109453718820659936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6152010&amp;postID=109453718820659936' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109453718820659936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6152010/posts/default/109453718820659936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://menasha.blogspot.com/2004/09/why-why.html' title='why... why...'/><author><name>menasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00242843976980112532</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
