Archive for January 2011
I’ve never seen an Irish lad as sexy as Bono before this guy:
I first saw him (and his band) guesting on Britain’s Next Top Model (forgot what cycle though)… those lucky b*tches. I actually didn’t have any clue that such band exists until a colleague asked me to look for a song called Nothing and The Man Who Can’t Be Moved about a month ago and ever since, both songs have been on replay on my iPod. =)
Danny, together with his bandmates Mark Sheehan (guitar) and Glen Power (drums), creates music that is a combination of rock dynamics, a bit of hiphop rhythm, and the kind of recall effect pop melodies can only evoke. They sound U2 meets-Eminem-meets-James Morrison (at least in my opinion). Perfect.
Here are my fave ones:
And this one, which I didn’t appreciate much before (although sounds a lot like Kris Allen’s version)
It all boils down to this four-letter word: s-i-c-k.
As much as I would want to be all optimistic and full of positive vibe at the beginning of this year, reality slams it hard in my face – it’s never gonna be that way. Not atleast (again) this time.
I am sick – literally and figuratively. Sick of the whole corporate circus and the way people act all around me. I am sick of people being mean and out of line and getting away with it. My list can go on and on but I’m too sick to publish all that.
And I am sick with a flu – colds, cough and the whole entourage. I’ve been tied to my bed since Friday afternoon then I had to force myself to feel better for a pre-climb meeting late Saturday so I got out for a while, only to find myself feeling worse the next day and the day after that.
When you’re lying in bed for ten straight hours, you can think of all sorts of stuff and your mind can be full of mixed up thoughts and end up blank. Have you ever been in a situation when you’ve had a lot to think about and you imagine each different scene unfolding like stills in a film, and then the story (or what it’s supposed to be) gets all jumbled up and then you find yourself lost – more lost before you even started with the whole thinking.
I was amazed there’s a lot of good stuff to watch on a Monday afternoon. I’ve seen a movie called Adventureland which featured my most current favorite geek, Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart. I didn’t know that such movie exists. It wasn’t great but it was enough to keep me awake. Sleeping too much makes me more sick by the minute. Then I was able to catch an episode of Extreme Makeover Home Edition where the family they were helping has this Animal Shelter where they keep all sorts of animals that they rescue from the streets. Didn’t I mention, one of my goals in life is to have an Animal Shelter for stray cats and dogs? And as usual, the show touched me deeply, which made me think: am I the only person who cries while watching a very innocuous tv show?
Anyhooo.. I’m still barking like a mad dog and it hurts my throat so much. And I am somehow wishing that tomorrow, I would have a hoarse voice so that I wouldn’t have to talk.
I am no Imelda Marcos but a gorgeous black pumps with needle hills or a strappy bare-beige sandals make me swoon and do the ‘awww’ thing as if I’ve seen a baby monkey bundled in a fruit basket or a friend tells me a sweet, cute story about his/her current lovelife. The tone is the same – starts pretty strong and loud with a dropping intonation (like the sound of a bomb being dropped) so you can imagine how annoying and pretentious it does sound like.
Anyway, back to the shoes.
The pair I wore today murdered my feet. And when I say murdered, I mean mutilated, carnaged, slaughtered that I can barely recognize them. They’re a huge mass of torn meat. Of course, I am exaggerating but the pain almost depicts it that way just perfectly. They feel sore everywhere and I have a feeling that whatever normal skin is left in certain areas in these babies, are also planning to stage a strike anytime soon or take an indefinite leave. The numbness creeps up from my heels up to my shin and the lower part of my calves. As if it weren’t bad enough that they look rediculously big for my tiny (pardon me) body.
The culprit was my gray Janilyn pumps which I bought while the store was having a crazy 50% off during the holidays. And here I am expecting something as comfortable as a ridiculously expensive type. It was a good find – a treasure actually – but I didn’t know I was falling into a trap until I wore it for the first time. It bit me hard. My mom always says you should beat the shoes in their own game and bite it before they bite you. She means this literally. But I’m on a faux leather diet so I passed. The next thing I know, I was walking like Erap (you know, 5-2-5-4-5-2-5-4). Luckily, I didn’t grow out of my ‘Girl Scout’ phase and I always have a band aid somewhere in my blackhole of a bag. Makes me think, band aids could save the world someday.
It didn’t help that I was also standing and running the whole day because of the forum my company organized. I usually bring flipflops or flat sandals with me so I can walk comfortably to and from my office. Today, I didn’t so I had to take its wrath.My feet lay lifeless on my bed right now… and I mourn ever so loudly… OUCH!!!
An old lady and an old man sat across from me inside the conference room. The old lady maybe well around in her 70s and the old man – as he so proudly announced while recalling a precious time with his grandson – is already in his 80s. Both are lawyers and both are astonishingly vibrant and energetic and ever so-enthusiastic about their careers. I watched them. Or more like I watched through them, expecting to find two tired souls behind what’s infront of me.
They were animately talking about their advocacies – ethical practice and anti-corruption. The old man grins so much, showing me his perfect set of teeth (albeit false already I’m pretty sure) and the old lady reminds me of Cinderella’s cute, stout fairy godmother (the one who sings Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo). What’s so striking about them is the way that they seem to embrace old age without much of a fuss – very active and without any hint whatsoever of laying low.
And here I am in my crummy 28 years of existence feeling much older than those two old folks in front of me. My mind feeds me pretentions – I am an old lady trapped in a yuppie’s body – this being the worst of all. It makes me believe that I have gone through it all; that I’ve reached the threshold of pain (when I haven’t even felt like how it is to have a human being come out of your you-know-where… they say it’s the most painful for women *cringe*); and that I’ve gone to heaven and hell and back again.
In truth, I’m merely waddling in the shallow part of the river, probably with only one foot in the water. A friend who’s gone through all sorts of drama at a very young age told me once, “Your problems are just miniscule compared to the dramasI had before… they’re nothing.” That sort of woke me up a little ‘coz for the most part, she’s telling the truth. I’ve been quite lucky to be honest.
The old man said something that slapped me a bit out of my reverie. “I’m old, and I wish I can still do things that I would love to do. This is the reason why I am always in a hurry.” Grandpa was right. On the contrary, I don’t have to be 80 to make the most of my earthly time ‘coz none of us really knows when our candle’s bright light would fade away.
Lesson learned: I should smile more often. Go figure. =)
Today is what it’s all about.
I’ve been living in the past. That’s what I realized. If there is any moment that we should be thankful for, it’s this very moment that we’re breathing in. Yesterday was an experience that no matter how it messed some things up, taught us to be wiser day by day. In my previous post, I talked (or ranted) about how 2010 was such a schmuck. But maybe I let it be a schmuck. You know how they say that SOME bad things happen only because you allow it to? I attribute it to every decision we make – from the most seemingly insignificant to the earth-shattering ones that turn our lives upside down. And then we find ourselves shrugging until it become just a mannerism. That quick ‘doesn’t-matter-I-did-it already’ fleeting self-expression. Most of the times it’s a good sign since moving on is what often follows, but on the other hand, it makes you appear like you’re used to commiting mistakes.
Moving on. That’s what’s important. The ghosts of our past will always be there to haunt us – sometimes even turn into nightmares. But what matters is how you avert the strike of its remnants.
The past is not the only culprit of some people’s misery. I don’t really like it that much when some people say “Just look at the future!” How can I when I have no idea what it looks or what it would look like? There’s a very big difference from shaping a future in your mind and actually doing something to achieve what you want to achieve. For me, it’s more important to stay focus on the present time – on what you’re doing to lead you to your dream destination.
Future is everything but it’s only as good as nothing when we screw up the options that we have right now. So today I am thanking God – for this rainy Sunday afternoon, for that noise outside, for this muffin top, and for this moment I came to realize that I better be alive.
I leave you this:
Each morning when you open your eyes; say to yourself,
You, and not the day’s events,
have the power to make you happy or unhappy today.
You can choose which it shall be.
Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet.
You just have one day. Today.
When you start your day;
Tell yourself, “I’m going to be happy today.”
– from http://www.pravsworld.com
I hate 2010. There, I said it.
I’ve been wanting to write about it but thinking about what happened to me in the past year makes me angry… mad… sad… bitter… disturbed. I feel like 2010 punked me right in the face. And I wanted so bad to punk it back.
I lost a job that I’ve been married to (and loved!) ifor five years; I lost two mobile phones; I (think I) made some very very bad decisions. I fell for another emotional trap. I was such an angry old hag. It grew me a muffin’ top. It was my worst year ever.
But enough with the ranting and the wallowing…
I am focusing my energy on things that would make me more productive and healthy. This year may not be my year. I may not own it – it might still own me. But who cares, as long as I’m alive, well, and happy with my family.
Oh, and having that ‘smart and good-looking’ person (hello Kat!) ‘wouldn’t hurt either. =)