random thoughts while experiencing hypothermia

Random Thoughts while experiencing hypothermia:

1. I wonder if this office is meant to culture bacteria. It’s so frigging cold, when you exhale you can see heat coming out of your mouth..you know..like the one in the movies when people are all covered up in seven to ten layers of coat, windbreaker, jacket, leg warmers, muffler, head covers etc. And you can’t hardly walk because of your weight plus the weight of the contraptions you’re wearing.

2. I was walking pass the IT room. He saw me. I smiled. He said Hello. I said Hi. Then this boss of his came up and ruin the chance of us ever striking a longer conversation. Bummer!So I guess I should concede. We are not meant to..spend more time to talk.  *slap in the face* Get over it!

3. It’s sooooo frigging cold inside the office that I my fingernails are turning into purple and my muscles are becoming more rigid..in 5 to 10 minutes blood circulation will have ceased..oxygen level will have dropped..and i can’t think straight. and all i can remember is the jacket he is wearing, imagining the invisible warmth that it would bring.. and now i am really sleepy. *sugar crash*

4.  I am literally experiencing brain freeze.. No shit?! I felt like my head is getting heavier and heavier it might just fall off and crack open like HUMPTY DUMPTY.. and my brain will be equally divided into two.

5. I never felt this cold in my life. My back is as stiff as a board..So this is how Rose and Jack felt. 

6. Centralized airconditioning only means one thing. All for one. One for all. Everyone will suffer from extreme heat to absolute negative 0.

7. This is not an office. This is a morgue.

8. The fire alarm went off. It only means one thing… we need heat!!! Where are the pyromaniacs when you needed them….

9.  Incubus is playing THE WARMTH…It’s just what I need…. 

10. Sometimes when you’re really in a hurry and you just want to get things over with, that’s the time when experience that TIME stood still. And you are trapped in your own vacuum. Same goes with relationships…

Ayayay!

too zexy for mah shirt..

You know that song?? well, i’m dedicating this to you Toms out there.

Some women are well-endowed and some are unluckily deprived and identified as accidentally female. Yes, boys..and girls…. I am talking about the puppies.

Women have the right to wear plunging necklines mainly because they’re women.. and it’s accentuates the figure.. It’s not merely to lure the maniacal eyes of the opposite sex. Well, actually it is also meant to draw attention from the same sex. I know I do. So yes,going back. It’s funny we just can’t help it when we saw cleavage, we just don’t glance…we stare..not look but glare.. or worst some peek!!! I swear. What are you looking for in there, mister? Can I help you with anything? Did you misplace a bill or anything? 

So don’t blame me for having potentially eye-catching ones. It’s God’s gift. And I don’t curse you for looking because it’s our nature. Man, by nature is a curious being. Well, I’ll curse you [or even kick you in your yahoo] if you are an atrocious pervert who’s squirming to get a hold of those precioussss. Remember that you can look but you can’t touch..well unless you are Brandon Boyd or Johnny Depp.

I don’t mind as long as you’re not that obvious.  Second offense will merit a disciplinary action!

So stop staring… better yet get your own! 

the walls have ears….

and so they heard…

I can’t believe it..such a loud mouth! He is totally getting into my nerves.

He is intentionally and undoubtedly trying to sabotage my existence—delimiting me to a mere spec of dust.

THE FOLLOWING POST is unusually cheesy and lame.  Click the X button. NOW! You have been warned. 

Arrgh!

It’s like this. The room beside ours is being occupied by IT. It has a relatively thin( it’s not the concrete-sound-proof-like) wall plus the vent is not thoroughly covered ergo..you can actually hear their conversations(even if you unintentionally eavesdrop) and vice versa.

Knowing this, I try to keep my voice down because I know that whatever I say can and will be used against me..

Plus, we try to keep it in the down low because we, HR people constantly take about confidential matters.

However, my loud mouth officemate, knowing that I have an insanely silly crush in one of the IT boys, said when I came dashing into the office:

Hey, your IT boys have just transferred. I think Mr. X’s station is right  right across mine (pointing to the not so concrete and sound proof wall)! *knock, knock*

He effing knocked!  OMG.  The room fell silent.  They effing heard it. 

Wow, he could have made it louder for everyone in the whole floor to hear. Yes, people I have this pathetic infatuation on Mr. X and I am cursing the day Mr. loud mouth broad casted this for all the world to hear. So shoot me in the head and get this over with.

I could have sworn… if only we’re alone..I mean, only two of us in the room..I could have slitted his throat and get away with it.

Revenge will be sweet. Must plan my counterstrike.. Vengeance will be mine.

the anatomy of a filipino movie

Not so recently, my officemate asked me if I wanted to watch CAREGIVER… I declined. Not because, it’s a local movie or because most of our movies are renditions of the foreign ones but I felt like I might be able to relate..and there’s nothing worse in this world than bawling your lungs out and looking bug-eyed after watching a movie you can strongly emphatize with. It’s like seeing yourself in the character’s role.. It’s like actually reliving each moment. It’s like being there.

And it can be pretty ugly. I seldom cry in movies. I mean I think it’s ok to cry but I try hard not too.. Because when I do.. it makes that awful, distracting, annoying noise of gasping for air.. It’s like you’re running out of breath. Well, bottomline is it’s fugly!!! I myself, am irritated when it happens.

No, I am not a caregiver.. not professionally at least.

I am a Sharonian though.

You don’t need to be an expert or a movie critique to come to a conclusion that some if not most  of our movies:

1. Lack depth - Do I really need to expound?

2. totally predictable - even a 5 year old can guess the ending. horror movies ain’t that thrilling anymore. you can just sit through the whole thing trying to guess when the killer will appear.. there’s too much foreshadowing.

3. cliche - see item no. 2 - we always use the same punchlines, the same storyline. We are stuck on stereotypes. Clearly, we are tired of watching re-runs. Thus, leads us to no. 4

4. lack originality - we always have renditions of foreign films. We idolize them so much, we lack identity.

5. commercialized(?) - too much politics going on the movie industry. I can’t even distinguish politicians from actors.

We can be so much more. We just don’t maximize our potentials. We have acclaimed actors, brilliant scripwriters, and top caliber directors but we’ve sold them all out.  

Let’s not waste our time trying to make it in Hollywood. I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

Thanks, Dad.

I used to say …When I grow up, I’d want to be like my dad. Now that I’m all grown up, I realized what was I thinking?

I did say I want to be like my dad. I never said I wanted to look like him. Everyone says that I am a spitting image of my father. *Slashes wrist*

Just kidding. Okay okay, so I didn’t get my mom’s mala-espanyol na ilong nor her slender physique, I did get my dad’s brains and eccentric personality I guess. If that’s any consolation. I’m not saying my mom was not smart or anything. Don’t get me wrong. It’s like Beauty and the Geek or rather the Hippie and the Chick. 

Growing up, I remember that dad used to take me to his classes and would always bring me coloring books when he came home from Legaspi (he was taking his Master’s then). I get to bring the coloring books too when I sit in in his classes. 

He used to read me bible stories — most of them are edited and delivered with humor. 

I love going to school with him –not because Ateneo HI was an all-boy school. I just like watching him teach.  

We would always have our bonding sessions over movies and music. However, I never learned to sing well or play the guitar as good as he does.  But as early as three years old, he recorded my voice singing the nursery rhymes they taught me. Not bad.

Dad wasn’t the typical, authoritative figure. In fact, I use to bully him. Well, I guess he let’s me bully him. Thus, the boyish attitude which appalled my mother.

Dad wasn’t too lenient either. When he looses his temper, he’s like the incredible hulk. You would wish you’ve never been born. It’s like rousing apocalype…which is why he seldoms get mad.

Dad was and still is a budget-conscious person. Kuripot kung baga. My mom’s the one buying me the expensive stuff. I usually receive books from my dad –some from booksale or second hand bookstores but nonetheless, he is generous. After all, I’m his only daughter (I hope).

Dad has his way with women (ang sabi!). Although, I highly doubt this because I heard that Mom’s his first and last. Oh wait, I still need to confirm that. I guess he is charming and from what I heard from old stories he is a hopeless romantic…which is probably how he got my mom into marrying him.

Once, I saw the love letter he wrote to my mom. Boy, was it worth a bucket of cheese. I say it was the ultimate cheese fest. But o well, that’s how he rolls.

Dad is not the perfect that. Dad was never too hard on me. I say, I was spoiled. I say, I get to have some things done my way–just how I want things to be. 

Dad taught me to exercise my free will at the most and learn to suffer its consequences. He let things be, maybe because he trusts me too much. And so I cherish and respect this trust.

He taught me not to abuse free will and power.  He always reminds me to stay grounded. Bask in your own glory without people seeing. Keep it cool. Don’t be a pompous ass because asses  kicked anyway.

Dad tried hard to be the cool Dad–pretended that he knows how to draw and do math. Well, at least he tried.

I am sorry though, if I’ve ever disappointed you in any way. Well, here are some things I am sorry for:

1. vehemently refusing to acknowledge the fact  that I am your carbon copy.

2. Not buying you that 60’s collection cd thing. I wasn’t broke. I just felt selfish at that time. 

3. getting cash from your wallet withiout asking for your permission or not saying the exact amount that i got [but you’ve probably figured that out already]…and not paying you back.

4. criticizing your sense of fashion. I don’t think you look good in skinny jeans.

5. bullying you all the time.

Dad did not raise a daughter  but a son (hahahaha) . No,  I think we both raised it other. He’s always been a friend than a Dad.

He gives me advice which I don’t end up using because I am too stubborn. Still he let’s me be his daughter– his little devil’s advocate, his sidekick, his apprentice and his worst critique.

So thanks Dad. Maybe I’ll get you that plasma tv we saw last time. Hopefully, I get to save enough (sana malaki semi-annual bonus ko).

For now, here’s my pathetic attempt to give tribute to you. I say it’s far mediocre from what I am envisioning but all things starts from scratch I guess.

I am raising my goblet of rock to you! Cheers and maybe someday, I would cut you some slack and make a better website..appropriate for the Music Mafia that you are. 

And happy father’s day to all the dads!