My relationship with cab drivers is more than symbiotic. They take me to my destination; I pay them with the exact amount plus a sensible chat. We don’t just talk about the weather. We talk about politics, celebrities, business, the unending hardships of life and more weather. The cabbies I usually frequent to are nice and intelligent. They make it seem like life was easier with just driving to nowhere. ( Read more… )
From what I can barely extract back from Econ100.1 (under the quotable quote queen Professor Monsod, I got a whopping 2.75 btw- My fault!), I can say that officially I, altogether now 2010 graduates, am now UNemployed. Hard, crisp… UNEMPLOYED. (Note: That’s different from UNDERemployed, which means basically looking for more job/s other than what you already have, which translates to the word called multi-tasking, which also denotes masochism, which presages something I will never do cos I love myself that much.) ( + )
I was hanging out with a really few of my high school pack yesterday to commemorate our nth plaza dawdling. I mean, if you live in Metro Vigan, you have absolutely no choice where to roam around with sufficient civilization but around the sanitary plazas. I could recall a priest who once spoke that the city was most remembered with “horse shits.” Lol. I’m cool with the place; it’s so packed with tourists every time, which does not necessarily mean that I especially eye on them. Anyway…
So we were kinda bored with each other, and the walking part was almost a ritual, hence we tackled on more serious topics like seeing ourselves in five or more years. That is mainly because, Keneth who was with us already finished Southville school and way ahead of us. The only thing that has been keeping him “busy” is waiting for fresh episodes of Heroes, How I Met Your Mother, and the likes. The greater we feel envious on him, the more he narrates how he feels lonely and alienated now that his student life is over. [View Pics Here]
The friends, the professors, the daily commuting, the morons who pass by you, yeah, if you put it that way, I’d say that I would totally miss school later.
But of course, being successful with your own earned money on your easy disposal is another charming matter to get by graduation. It would be a surreal feeling of independence and bachelorhood.
And ultimately, if I already had earned BIG BIG BIG BIG enough, independent enough, and a bachelor, I would really like to spend some time to fulfill my lovely escapade. I would like me to be in a foreign city, with no South and West Asians (sorry, I’m a racist!), where the night is slightly more felt than the day. I’d be living in a huge hotel, and my suite would be practically passable for a self-hosted party. I’d be in my goody-goody jacket, T-shirt, shorts, and shoes: A “preppy-beach” attire. But I dislike the oceanic ambiance, so I’d prefer a city one wherein the noise and light polluton never ceased, and me in a city that never sleeps. I’d be just walking around appreciating the smooth traffic and the coffe sips I occasionally take. You know, the independence attained and me walking around the city buying what I want, satisfying my black hole-like tummy, attempting to look good, and all. And it’ll be funny if I’d be friends with fellow “tourists.” And I’d be having a state-of-the-art digital SLR. And like, there’d be no goons on the street. And that would be totally cool, you know. Hey, what’s your ideal escapade?
The countdown to my birthday starts in…
18 Why the hell is it fuckin raining? You come across a puddle of water and you gather all your leaping abilities (descended from George of the Jungle) only to miss soaking your Nike on it. Five minutes after, the puddle’s now a pool and the best remedy you could think of is levitation. Which is impossible. You could have gotten lotus feet!
17 UP Pep Squad retains its cheer dance crown Sunday afternoon, scraping the despair imprinted by UP’s trounces over some other sports. I actually left a nasty question over UST’s banners during that Araneta show in my Multiply account. Strangely, my blockmate who just read it immediately got “stirred” to blog a yet more grudging entry, in which an apparent Thomasian (obviously not my blockmate’s contact) left a comment instigating a bit of “thrash-talking.” Hilarious noh? My wickedness.
16 So I was officially (and enforcedly) declared Wednesday afternoon, the editor-in-chief of our Feature Writing class’s final project: An online magazine. Impromptu and off-guard, I don’t know what’s happening to my school life. The catch is that our magazine targets young ladies, 18-25, A B C and yet, me and my associate editor are guys. Pfft.