2 Weeks 2 Go

Woe is me.  I have not blogged anything decent for the past few and I have my paucity of raw talent and meagerness of quality time to credit.

Been engaged in important things that are reviving my gastritis attacks. While the Chinese are distraught because of the earthquake aftermath, and the Burmese because of the cyclone, I am frenzied by the Big Move-Out.

At the onset, I was thrilled to be leaving the South. I thought I spent too many years, 16 to be exact, being southside-steady. I was ready to break out of the BF-Bubble and enjoy the North (of the metro) way of life.

The idea of living in Mandaluyong 2 weeks from now with my cousins,  visiting Ate Bec in Katipunan, spending Saturday mornings jogging in UPDil, foodtripping in Tomas Morato, beer guzzling in Metrowalk all appealed to me– until I spent one night in Bicutan with two of my best girlfriends, Jap and Yo. We spent the evening bonding over boys, career, and kalokohan- something that we didn’t get to do much in our Bataan trip. I thought, when I leave Paranaque, Yo will be going to Jap’s house without me. They’ll be talking about the things I also want to talk about while I juggle building my career and budgeting my finances in Mandaluyong. If I get to be lucky, they might just include me through a phone patch interview. Jealous much? Boo hoo. 😦

And when I was on my way to BF last night, I looked at the old and new establishments along Aguirre. All are too familiar, yet strangely comforting. How I will miss the spur of the moment drinking sessions in Tides and N-los! I wouldn’t be even there to see The Pergola Mall flourish.  😦

It’s not like I’m never going back to the South, I’m just feeling a scrap of misery ‘coz of the budding separation anxiety. And worse, I’m having trouble which place I am to consider home.

I’ll be damned if I can’t be forced to good by the Big Move-Out. Mum’s already fretful that I might spend too much time out of the pad partying and destroying my life. I told her with utmost confidence that I’m already 26 and I’d be an idiota and a half if I decide to fuck up my life at this stage. But admittedly, I still need her to remind me to take my vitamins religiously and to coach me on how to properly hasang a fish. :p

I’m sleeping over at Manda tonight so that I can check out the room I am going to stay in. In the coming days, I will finish packing the things I will bring there and sending to our house in Bataan. (Post about my parents moving back to Bataan soon.) I’d also be preoccupied shopping for stuff like a new bed, dvd player, junkfood healthy tummy staples, and booze. Yeah, I’m not going to cross the last thing out. Haha. Don’t tell my mommy. :p


I digress, David vs David in the A.I. Finale! Cookie, beat the crap out of Archie!


listening to: David Cook – Dare You To Move 

Simon Cowell-Possessed

Despite the media reports that this season of A.I. has been getting the lowest ratings, I believe that this is the hottest of all 7 seasons.

Now, let me pull a Simon and allow me to just bitch and blog about the Idol Top 12. 🙂

Amanda: What’s up with the hair? Woke up one morning and thought, “Ooh, I wanna be a skunk today.” You turn even the sweetest melodies into rock and roll. You bore me to tears.

Brooke: You should have been Carly. As in Carly Simone. You look like her, except you’re prettier. You have nicer lips. Nicer nose, nicer hair. Fine. You don’t look like her at all! Haha, But hey, I like you. But I don’t like you that much. I like you because you didn’t fuck up Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles. I don’t like you that much because you didn’t own the song.

Carly: You are just a tad better than Amanda. I wish you’d hide your tattooed arm even once. I think it’s scaring Simon. One time lang, magpaka-girl ka naman. Sing Don’t Cry for Me Argentina in the Andrew Lloyd Webber round!

Chikezie: You took the extra mile to suck when you brought out your harmonica and played it. That’s it. I have no more opinion of you.

Kristy: Your eyebrows have evolved through the entire season, except your voice. Let Kelly Pickler and Carrie Underwood handle all the country shit. Anyway, you have what those two lack, a pretty pretty face! Model or act. Just stop singing. Please.

Michael: I’m still disappointed that you got booted out early. Too early IMHO. I loved your version of Aerosmith’s Dream On and I think it’s just sad that your dream ended with that song. 😦

Ramiele: I’m happygladjoyfulelated that you went bye-bye. Understand that your singing prowess (?) is normal to my ears. I’d rather listen to Lani Miasalucha at any given day. You don’t give me Pinay Pride. I don’t remember you being hugged by Ellen. Or Oprah.

Syesha: I have three words for you. You go girl! I just hope that you start singing upbeat songs because no matter how good you a singer you are, I have yet to see you just enjoying the moment on stage. Let loose, girlfriend!

David A: You’re a darling. A lying, little son of a bitch, but still a darling. I agree with Paula when she said, you can sing to us the phone directory and you’d still make us fall in love. Anyhoodles, you’re so cute you make me want to cheer, “Go, baklita, go go baklita go…” Go fig.

David H: Uhhh… forgettable. I didn’t even realize that there were three Davids in the Top 12 until I stole these pics from the site. Oh well.

Jason: You are the long-haired, thinner version of…. *drumroll* John Travolta! You’re pretty, boy. Pretty pitchy. You never cease to distract me with your kilometric eyelashes.

David Cook: I LOVE YOU! Just when I thought Billie Jean would be your best performance to date, you triple wowed me with Always Be My Baby. You will be the next American Idol. You will make gazillion records and you will make Justin Timberlake eat shit.

That still wasn’t Simon-ey enough. I know, I know. I’m not as articulate.

And I’m not as mean. 0=p


Down to the Top 6: Brooke, Carly, Syesha, David Archuleta, Jason, and David Cook.

Next stop: Andrew Lloyd Webber night.


listening to: David Cook – Always Be My Baby

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