#bitesizechorizo

Wag mong kalimutan na love na love ka ni Ate Em. 

>:D<

Be careful. Extra careful.

March 19, 2011

The sky cried non-stop today. I arrived school freezing from a taxi ride. I met an old classmate, Raymond - or Banki as we call him - and asked him if he wanted to have coffee. He said yes, so we punched in our orders on the vendo machine. Two Cafe Lattes. It smelled so good, and while I was sipping on the cream, Bankii's cup came out. Still sipping on mine, we began descending the stairs to take a seat nearby.

And in a moment's carelessness, my bottom went down first, counting the slippery steps, my coffee on my hair, arms and legs - miraculously none on my clothes - and myself half-screaming, half-laughing. Banki helped me up and asked if I was okay. I said, "Yeah, I am. But my coffee..." (insert bipolar face here) and we both laughed. He offered me his cup but of course I refused. There was still a quarter left of mine and I chugged it down just so I'd be busy doing something other than blush from embarrassment. Good thing it was still early though. The crowd wasn't thick yet, so my stunt must not have been quite a show.

I touched my newly ironed-straight hair, and it felt sticky. My arms and legs kind of camouflaged with the coffee and then I couldn't help myself from really laughing out loud at how clumsy I am. Banki was looking at me with a part-amused and part what-should-I-do face and joined in laughing. He offered me his face towel to wipe myself with that looked pristinely white that it'd be a waste to even use it, much more wiping off coffee stains. But he said he was sure and I gladly accepted.

Really, thank God for good friends like him, despite our time apart. I spent the next half hour rinsing my hair in the sink and drying them under the hand-dryer. Bohaha~ that's what you get, stupid. /knockonthehead

Banki's twice a savior to me already. The first time was when we were first years. He let me borrow his extra clothes for the enema return demonstration. I wouldn't have made the comfort room in time if it weren't for his loose-fitting jersey. And he does it again now.

True friendship can take form in little things... like coffee stains on a borrowed face towel.

A day after Valentines and I'm hating on people. Well not really hate hate, but I'm pissed. Major pissed.

1. Insensitive people in class who only think of their own benefit.

Enough said.

2. A boy I used to like toyed with my friend's feelings, like a jerk boss.

Ditched her on a Valentines when she had gifts ready that she worked hard for. They're not even together, but he made her feel like the feeling was mutual, and she was willing to do so much for him, which he only took for granted. The nerve. Paasa. Such a guy will never be worth the time and tears. How much more your heart?

3. Our helper who never returned with my bag she borrowed.

God knows how much I wanted to text her this:

Cacay, unsa naman ni? Naa pa kay plano mubalik diri? Pagklaro ha. Ug wa ka ganahi, pagsulti! Di kay mukalit kag hawa. Respeto lang unta bisag gamay. Ug basin nakalimot ka nga nanghuwam ka'g bag nako ug kwarta ni Daddy ug Lola. Ug ang tanang hinuwaman, dapat iuli. Palihug lang nya kog hatod diri ug naa paka'y kaikog nahabilin.

But I didn't because I'm still in my rational mind. We treated her like she was family. And this is what we get. Being used like this. Though it irks me, more than anything, that my lola and dad whose money got run off with that promdi girl, seemed to side with her. Dad even said it's my fault because I trusted her. Well partly. But still, is he that dense enough to not sense that I'm trying to find comfort in his even harsher way of dealing with things? Ironic, yes. I wanted him to tell off the maid for us, for me. Because sometimes, it's just so easier to be mean.

Of these past 5 years. Of passed up chances. Of always looking at only you.

Because time and time again, reality slaps me in the face that all I've ever hoped for are nothing but empty dreams. That there is no chance, whatsoever, that you will feel the same. Maybe we met in the oddest circumstances but it doesn't have to necessarily mean something special. Maybe it's just me over-analysing things again. Maybe it's just me being the hopeless romantic that I am.

And this has to stop. I'm not a 14-year old girl any more to still be so ridiculously naive.

I'm letting go. Of you.

J, I hope I can meet you in another life. As a complete stranger. I wonder what would happen then.

No surprise at all. Aside from the endless talks about anything and everything, well, everybody loves good memories. :D

My first decent photo in full duty uniform and cap. Weee. I look wasted.

Half of the group, goofing around while the rest were busy. Ohoho~

Jesnel - the tough guy, Kathe - the cap eater, and Eljamaine - the star, waving to her fans while I take some paparazzi photos. :P

Capping ceremonies. Congratulations!

Nurse Jessa!

And the instant chief nurse - Madam Ardie! :)))

I still can't get over this last photo. Outrageously hilarious. We actually made him agree to let us do this to him. PRICELESS.

In between really fat and just chubby. In between ugly and pretty. In between a girl and a woman. In between youth and adulthood.

It's a difficult place to be. Not knowing where you really belong. It's like swimming in a raging river with crocodiles waiting at each bank. Either way you go, you become prey to stereotypes and ridicule.