Apathy..

Apathy.. I want you back in my life.  I was fine when you were around. Then I started paying attention and eventually was made aware of………I can’t even say it.

From this day forward…. I will stop CARING….. STOP BEING CONCERNED! STOP GIVING A DAMN! 

Ok, gotta go watch INCUBUS morning view sessions to displace the frustration now. This post will be left as is until further notice. 

Hey Mum

Dear Mum,

How’s the afterlife? Did you know that smoking kills? Yep, that’s what I heard. How’s Uncle? I hope he’s also up there. However, rumor has it that he’s playing devil’s advocate in the pits of hell.

In case, you haven’t been tuning in lately, Dad has been touring the region. He has a groupie of some 18 - 20 year olds. Crazy, I know. Yep, you got to hand it to him. He’s living the rock star dream. At his age, it’s just a consolation. So yeah, I concur.

I hope that you’re happy up there. I would love to join you someday. Well, that relatively depends if I give in to Satan’s offer of eternal awesomeness and Coca-Cola body of hotness (just like yours).

I’ve been having chest pains lately. No biggie actually, if it’s going to be the free ticket to never never land.

Well, let’s see, in our family we can’t really ignore those symptoms, right? But we’re different. We have always learned things the hard way. Yep, we’re stubborn like that.Maybe I did got that from you and not from Dad.

So anyway, work’s really a pain right now. I think PAIN is an understatement. It’s an abomination! I might render overtime this Saturday. It’s pretty fcked up. I worked my ass off for a month and suddenly the server had gone haywire. POOF! Back to zero! 

Although, it pays rent, provides the me luxury of getting piss drunk on weekends (on a rarity) or buy me the books I’d kill to read, still I’m struggling to accept that I am no longer your asthmatic obese three-year old. 

Yes, Mom. I grew up to be such a drama queen. So yeah, you’d probably burn this imaginary letter or skip to the not-so-boring parts which I can tell you now that there is none.

Anyway, do you remember that photo? That’s one of my favorites as it perfectly shows how carefree you really are. Even though, everyone knows you are such a nervous wreck and on certain occasions, you basically spell the word RECKLESS ABANDON. I remember you and Dad use to hangout in our veranda, you smoking HOPE while sipping on your SanMig light and Dad massaging your foot and drinking his vino. Good times, yeah?!  I wish we can bring back those days. O well, everyone’s moved on. I’m sure I’d be fine.

Don’t worry about me. Worry about father. He’s been going out a lot. But I don’t have my eyes and ears right now. Well, maybe sooner or later I’ll figure out if there’s another Uma Thurman has been hanging in the door step.

I’d let you know as soon as I can. Wait, you’re probably watching right? Why haven’t you hexed the guy yet?

Anyway, if you’re not too busy getting a pedicure or something, visit me and give me those lottery numbers I’ve been praying every night.

P.S.

I’d be meeting up with your ever loving sisters again. They’ll probably tell me for the nth time to loose weight or to stand up straight or to stop slouching or to dress up a bit..you know, usual stuff they’ve been saying for the last 24 years of my existence. I guess I should just let it in the right ear and out the left, right?

And I did visit gramps.. He has no clue who I am by now. He asked my name and whose family tree I belong to for approximately 10 times.

Other than that, every thing’s peachy and perfect (and full of crap on certain levels).

Your Daughter,

Joyce a.k.a. Bing-Bing

Amuse Me….

Do you want to hear a funny story?

(more…)

This is shit!!!

One Sunday evening I decided to blog.

(more…)

Unfortunately…

Hello, blog. I was suppose to write something worth reading..something that does not clearly spell the word FAIL. However, this week has really been HELL. The auditors are coming God-knows- when and the boss has become a huge wreck. I dunno if it’s her PMS (Permanent Mental State) of the week. 

Chaos! There are papers all over my desk. Papers of all shapes, sizes, colors. But wait there’s more. She has sent me several emails either telling me that I have disappointed her (in different ways) or I have been rewarded with…well…more work. So yeah, I guess it pays to be called the chorewhore.

Plus, I need to come early this week because of the workshops sponsored by who else…our lovely department. Yesterday, I didn’t even know that I was chosen as a resource person for one of the sessions until I have set my bag on the table. I had to familiarize myself with the slides for like what….. 30 minutes? But then again, who am I to complain? I don’t own the frigging company. And as if timekeeping isn’t enough pain in the ass right now. How am I suppose to hibernate, huh?? Tell me!!!  

So there, now that I got that out of my system, I ponder on this..

The Anti Climactic Fortune Teller

Truly a misfortune. For some reason, I am often associated with the word BORE (or BOAR). Lame-o-meter increases one notch!

So here’s to my future boring romantic encounter. I hope it’s with the boy toy. I haven’t seen that gay magnet for a long while….tsk.tsk.tsk