Something guys should know...

(DON'T SUE ME! I DIDN'T WRITE THIS)

To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. 

This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. 

This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. 

This is homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. 

This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and screw up the guys in their lives without saying a word. 

This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." 

This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. 

For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. 

This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. 

This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. 

This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship.

This is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. 

This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. 

This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. 

This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. 

This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those who make you cry yourself to sleep. 

This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy. 

This is for the despair you felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. 

This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something.

This is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. 

This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

This is what I don't understand.

Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. 

Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful.

Men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mind games, that girls love to keep them hanging.

Yet, men, I ask you: if were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, would you give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find?

Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a shirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express.

Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congratulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.

So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)

What happened on November 17, 2006

It was a chance of a life time. Students like us won't be able to get a chance like this ever again since the distance that we have to travel from there to school is pretty far and it totally takes about two full hours of your time to get there! What is this place you wonder? Well, today, we had our field trip to the STEAG power plant in Tagoloan. It was really awesome (except the fact that we had to pay 60 pesos for the fare). It was absolutely fun (we missed Filipino! YAY!)!!! we joked around on our way and we also got lost for the jeepney driver was like going 100 km/hr and didn't know where to go. We had to stop and ask for directions from certain passers-by where STEAG is. I think we almost went on a trip to Butuan or something (wgich I was looking forward to anyway).

The other jeepney (since there were 35 of us so two jeepneys were needed) got there first, then, the orientation began. They started discussing and view some slide shows (and I didn't get my free Coke!!! Our merienda...) and we asked some questions... the plant was absolutely fascinating! It took them three years starting from December 2005 to construct it. It took them 3000 workers to pull it off! The plant covered 55.44 hectares (see, I was listening, not eating...) and the people who designed it were Japanese and German. So it was like a United Nations project. The stack of the company (where the smoke comes from which passes through a filtration process) is 30 storeys high! Imagine you jumping from there without a parachute, surely you won't die! Well, maybe you won't since there was humongous conatiner filled with nothing but coal at the bottom. So, instead of coming out a white angel, you come out as a distant cousin of Nightcrawler from X-Men.

It was absolutely amazing (yeah... the tour guide was able to cope with our endless questioning)! We rode in a coaster or capsule, it looked like a mini airplane since its interior looks like one (except the mini t.v. perched on top. No remote... what a shame!). We then went home to catch the show of Katutubo and along the way, they talked about horror movies (which I did not dare listen since I'm a real scaredy-cat).

For our essay presentation, we made a documentary by filming. Nikki and I then edited it (we did it ourselves, with some help from sir Eryk with the icons).

That's all for today! Now, I must read some Harry Potter fan fics! Do you guys think that it's good to pair Lucius Malfoy with Hermione Granger? Anyone? How about Hermione and Snape *vomits* (who came up with that pairing??? Just asking for your opinions... I'm not writing one okay? I'm writing a fan fic but it's about Harry and Joan (the main character whom I added). Want to hear it?

One Bloody day to go!

6 years ago...

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My tita's back! We were so happy! Yesterday we did nothing all day. We went out starting from eight o' clock in the morning. My dad asked me where I wanted to go and I told him, "Anywhere besides SM." I confess! SM is really boring. Seeing the same sites and have already seen everything it has to offer is pretty uninteresting. So we went to Limketkai. 

My mom didn't like it a bit because it's a bit 'unorganized'. It would be impossible to find the store you desired with all the paths you have to through to get there! We only lasted there for about an hour and half looking for the right curtains to place in the living room (judging from the massive amount of curtains bought and unused by my parents, I asked, "why bother?"). My feet ached after that, standing all day is not my thing. My brothers had no problem with it. But then I got really bored, I asked my dad to buy a bar of Cadbury chocolate. He agreed (since we'd all share it), and we happily ate all the way to the entrance. 

We then went to SM and we bought a book by Danielle Steel entitled "The Wedding". Being the bloody bookworm that I am, I can't help reading it while walking. My mom scolded me for it and told me a story of a girl who was kidnapped because she was reading alone in a secluded area. "But I'm not along. You and Gavin are here and some other people. And two security guards are behind me. I'm not really that alone," I said jokingly. As we got home the cycle of chores happened again and then I got back to my book from 7 p.m. to 11 p.m. I was already halfway there.

Last night was a miracle for me. I never seem to sleep that early for the whole year. I usually sleep at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. But last night was a real surprise. I woke up at 7 a.m. today after having a really strange dream. We were all at war and the students were wearing uniforms. We were gathered on the field of XUGS (really weird, huh? Maybe it's because of the book...) and I was shooting away with a large lava cannon! Monsters or aliens were falling from the sky crushing everyone I know. Fortunately they can defend themselves as well since they have high quality machine guns. Wow! What a dream! After that, I slept back waking up at 9 a.m. I lazed around for a bit staring straight at the ceiling and got out of bed And did my chores for the morning, like making the bed in both rooms and cleaning the table since washing the morning dishes was not mine (for I can't seem to wake up early enough). 

I was really shocked how fast the week passed by and I never enjoyed any bit of, like going some place else, feeling a sense of adventure for a bit. But then I noticed that the break was not meant for only myself, it was meant for the whole family. 

Being at school eight to nine hours straight and coming home too tired to even play some video games or watch a movie with you family for one year and only spending a couple of days with them (one if you're occupied with a special project) is not really the best way to spend your life. Growing up, you don't get to spend as much time with your family, being pretty busy and all that.

So now, I have to gather all my school stuff! *rummages inside the basement* Bye!

My Semestral Break

HAHAHAHA! 6 years ago...

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My tita (or yaya, we don't call her that...), went home to have her own semestral break leaving us, from Tuesday to Sunday, yaya-less. So that means I can't enjoy my one week break and I have to double my efforts in keeping the house fit for human habitation. So for the past three days I have been setting the table, washing the dishes, and cleaning the table. Today, i'ts different. I'm going to help my dad do the laundry. It's going to be a bit of a first for me since my tita does the laundry every Wednesday so I can't help out. 

My dad asked me to separate the white clothes from the colored ones to avoid stain, so I did that. He then starts to plunge it all into the washing machine, add a bit of laundry soap (powder) and watch the clothes spin inside. After that he rinses them (I was doing my own bit of laundry) and hands them to me. I will then hang them on the clothes line (at 10 a.m.... it was really hot...), I wasn't really complaining, it was fun! The cat then starts to distract me, by purring and rubbing it head on my legs (I'm ticklish). After that, lunch (that has not yet been cooked, since the chicken was completely frozen). We waited until 2 p.m. to have lunch. It was okay, since we ate breakfast at around 9 a.m. so 'I' was still, practically, full. I then was the dishes, same cycle. 

I helped my mom (when she got back home form work, my dad was on leave) in doing her laundry, ate some ice cream, I didn't complain a bit about what I have done this week. Since in the end, I get the computer starting from 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. Don't worry, I'm not yet sleepy since I took a 3-hour nap (if my mom didn't wake me...) in my room. 

It's really nice helping around the house (besides the fact I broke two plates and three glasses in one night while setting the table for breakfast the next day). I'm practically, clumsy. Not every time, it just starts up when you least expected it.

Time to surf. I'm going to play Text Twist now. Bye!