Saturday, June 30, 2007
transformers
I just have one question:
What the fcuk is up with Transformers?
Everyone's talking about it, excited about it, crazy about it. I hate it!
As I pass through anywhere with grouped up people, I hear more or less the same thing all the time:
"Kelan nga ipapalabas yung Transformers?"
"Uy Transformers na!"
"Block gimmick tayo, nood tayong Transformers."
"Shit excited na ko mag Transformers."
"May balak ka bang manood ng Transformers?"
"Kelan ka manonood ng Transformers?"
"Sabay tayong manood ng Transformers!"
"T*ngina, ang ganda ng Transformers!"
"Kahit mahaba,uulit ulitin ko yung Transformers!"
"My boyfriend, like, wants to make nood Transformers this Saturday."
"Umalis na nga tayo dito, mag T-transformers na e!"
Shizzzam.
Transformers.
ANO BANG MERON SA TRANSFORMERS??????????????????
Even the Jolly Kiddy Meal toys are Transformers-themed.
The best selling books in FB are Transformers picture books.
What's the fcuking fuzz about Transformers?
What's wrong with Power Rangers?
If a certain (future) boy asks me to go watch boyish movies like these- gawd, he can't force me to go in the godforsaken cinema.
Okay, maybe not. But I, for one, know that even if I do get in and watch it, I'll probably sleep through it.
And don't even expect me to discuss all the horrible movie details with you (unless i happened to like it- chances of which are probably 1/50)
Conclusion: Don't take me to boy movie dates.
Haha. Or do. I'd probably go if I like you THAT much.
But for now, if I hear the word Transformers again, I swear I would burst.
Transformers.
I just burst.
killed a random reader @ 8:28 PM
Monday, June 25, 2007
super random
Oh God. I really, usually don't do these things anymore- things like these are already buried together with my ModBlog. (OMG. Now I'm depressed.) BUT! I don't know. I felt like doing it again. I guess I'm being too cheesy na. Yuckkkk. Okay. Anyway. Haha
NOTE: Okay, from now on, I'll be reposting everything to Multiply, just because I made a promise to update my Multi regularly instead of every other 5 months. Haha. It's kind of cheating, but wha the heck. It's mine.
So here it is. A survey. Stolen from Ella pa to, because I couldn't find a good enough one that I'm in the mood to answer.
What's the weirdest nickname that you had as a kid?
HAHA OMG. Snow White by my neighbors. Super yechhh.
What gesture does a guy do that makes you all googly-eyed?
When they cock their head to greet someone. OMG. Hahaha.
Tell one weird fact about your mom
Her definition of rest is constantly fixing and re-fixing the clutter her unfortunate children leave around the house.
What annoys you the most?
Barok, squatting people. HAHA ang sama. But I HATE them. Plus, yung mga pakielamera. ipong sumisilip sa lahat ng gagawin mo at kukunin yung watch mo just to know the time. Umbagin kita e.
A good impersonation of a famous person that you can do
Uh, I can do voice overs of Chuckie from Rugrats, Dexter from Dexter's Lab and Marge from The Simpsons! (But Homeeey!)
What's the most shocking thing a person has said to you about yourself?
Their first impression of me was: I WAS SHY AND QUIET daw Can you buhlieve it?
Do you have songs in your iPod that you don't want people to know you listen to?
Yupyup. Haha.
Name 3 favorite cartoons you watched as a kid
Scooby Doo, Little Lulu, Akazukin Cha Cha ;)
What weird fetish do you have on the opposite sex?
If a guy would raise his one eyebrow with this cocky grin at me- wala na. Haha. Swoonswoon.
What games did you play as a kid?
Jackstones and Jumprope.
People often tell you that you look like...
OMG this is embarrassing but I look like Gee-Ann from PBB daw. =)) Shiz. Also Carla somebody from ABS. Okay puro local. HAHA.
What is your special skill?
Special skill? Haha. I seriously don't know. HAHA
What's your bad point?
I buy too much stuff, I can't even find places for them anymore. (esp. books)
Kids play "pretend" games. What did you like "pretending" to be when you were young?
I LOVED doing Snow White. I would put all the square pillows around the bay window to make some sort of coffin, then I'd lie down there waiting for something to happen. I also do Swan Princess and Carol Duvall (the crafty woman from lifestyle Network HAHA) occasionally.
What is not your type?
Smokers and drinkers, I really really hate.
In your mobile phone inbox, who sent you the most messages?
I don't know. Smart? Haha. Probably Andrea and Patty and Ces and Mom.
Most important qualification a guy must have before you date him?
He should not text OR type cheaply (with the shortcuts, misspelled words and all that shit). Also he better not be a smoker/drinker. And he has to be casual smart.
Your favorite swear word?
Fuck, but I don't use it much. (daw)
Guilty pleasure?
Book-shopping. I swear.
First crush ever?
Wag na to. Bad memories. HAHA
What is your worst facial feature?
My super eye-bags. Haylavet.
What is your best facial feature?
I don't know. They say it's my jawline. HAHA. Wow. yun pa talaga e.
Do you have any collection of some sort?
I collect EVERYTHING. From receipts, to letters, to books, to nailpolish, to musical instruments, to postcards, to Barbies, to... the list goes on and on.
Name those you have a girl crush on
Can I say Barbie?
What song do you sing best?
Lady Marmalade. Haha I scream here.
Sweetest song you've ever heard?
Dance With My Father Again. OMG. I can cry everytime.
Say "I love you" in different languages you know
Mahal Kita? That's one.
Who was your favorite Spice Girl?
Baby Spice. Hello? It's every Grade 1's favorite. Haha
What is something you are concerned about recently?
Diagnostic tests and getting demoted, aso upcoming org interviews/auditions.
Assign people to the ff. roles according to your desire:
1) bestfriend 2) boyfriend 3)pet 4)husband 5) second cousin
1- Rupert Grint: because I LOVE HIM
2- Liam Aiken: because he's sensitive (at least, he appears to be)
3- Paris Hilton: then I'd dress her up and name her fugly names as well
4- Rupert Grint: because I LOVE HIM nga
5- Lindsay Lohan: so I'll be the "the-good-non-cocaine-addict" relative
;)
Haha my answers were so crazy.
MORE RANDOM STUFF:
- I want to be a LeSportsac collector! OMG. Haha. Fabulous, isneet?
- I've been a stagnant reader since last week. I bought 4 last week and finished nothing yet.
Oh course who could blame me. All the Ways of Seeing and Camera Lucida reading stuff has too much words for me to handle.
- Okay. So I'm still in love with Rupert Grint. I never saw him in London like I hoped (screw him, it's his loss). Liam Aiken's still a possible prospect, of course.
EVEN MORE RANDOM STUFF:
(my conversation with ces- okay. note that I AM COMPLETELY SERIOUS when I said this. I seriously am too touchy sometimes. Haha)
reese_0006: wala
reese_0006: ayoko na nga e
reese_0006: may heart hurts
reese_0006: HAHA
reese_0006: tama na
reese_0006: ayoko na talga
reese_0006: pero seriously naaawa na ko
reese_0006: ish
reese_0006: kasi
reese_0006: wala lang
reese_0006: too geeky
ces_mizu: HE is too geeky? hahaha un ba un? 
ces_mizu: anong oras ka na nakauwi?? 
reese_0006: OO
reese_0006: mga 4??
reese_0006: haha not sure
reese_0006: basta
reese_0006: naaawa na talaga ako
reese_0006: nung nakita ko siya kanina
reese_0006: grabe
reese_0006: nako madali talaga matunaw heart ko minsan
reese_0006: HAHA
reese_0006: seriously
reese_0006: alam mo yun
reese_0006: yung isang manang na nagdress ng gown nung fashion show (love on the ramp), nung nakita ko siya super lumambot puso ko
reese_0006: OMG
reese_0006: wala lang she seemed so happy. it made me teary-eyed
reese_0006: beneath my super evil exterior, i'm actually good-natured
reese_0006: HAHA
It's true actually. It may seem quite funny when you read it here, but it's true. GRABE I even cried when the Mangyans performed in our school OMG super. HAHA nakakahiya but true. And I always cry whenever I watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (as in hagulgol), and I cried sa Ice Princess. Haha
P.S. Special mention to this fugleee copycat who sort of stole my url and just changed the name (duh). In the real world, I may not completely own it, but in my head, oh I very much do. Get your own url and stop stealing stuff that's not yours.
P.P.S. I just found out today from denica, that the third years don't have any extra sections this year! sayang! we had so much fun trying to guess what K section they would add this time: Kapayapaan? Karunungan? Katapangan? Kagagahan? HAHA weh.
killed a random reader @ 4:59 PM
ohemgee
Listen.
I'm posting right now because I just HAVE to try it.
I'm posting a blog entry while I'm in school!!!!!!!
HAHA. OMG. Wala lang.
I've never done it before.
Hello, you can't even access Solitaire in our HS computers. Now I'm making a blog entry! And the guard's just right outside the door!!!
Can you believe it?
Haha. Okay. I sound so overly excited and new to this.
Well, of course, that's exactly what I am.
Cheers!
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
killed a random reader @ 7:41 AM
Friday, June 22, 2007
to dance with you again
What the effer.
I can't even write shit!!!
I WANT TO WRITE SOMETHING! :((
I've been trying since 11 am. And it's, what, 5:54?
I hate being "out of the zone". Eew. I'm so gay.
I don't know. Maybe it's that "time of the month" that's doing this to me. I am so effed up right now. Shizzz.
We're going away for the weekend. It's my dad's birthday - the 24th. I did something for him. I recorded Dance With My Father Again w/ guitars and all that- my voice sucked but whatever. I cannot possibly re-sing that again. It makes me feel depressed and whatev.
I'm posting what I've written for him here. I'll post the song I did too, if only I didn't sound like a pig about to be made to chicharon. Doubleshit.
Anyway. I miss my dad.
FOR YOU:
My Dad and I used to dance together.
He always took my hands and we'd waltz around the living room, him singing a humble tune fit for a royal ball. Visions of my future debut filled my dad's head - he dreamt of the day when he and I would be dancing together in formality, in front of the people whom I care for the most.
He used to love it.
I used to hate it.
I didn't dance. I thought I knew how, but videos of my grade school field demos proved my assumptions wrong. I never tried to dance again- after the macarena and the LA walk phase, I ended any attempts to do so.
But dad always took me. He tried to make me interested- to just let loose and glide through the polished floor, lost in the music he's making. And I always brushed him off. I thought, there would always be millions of dances ahead of us.
I was wrong, of course.
In fact, there weren't any dances left for us at all. I try to remember how our final dance went- the last time he took my hands and hummed a tune- the last time I tried to push him away. I realized, I couldn't remember. No one knew it would be the last.
My dad, he felt things he didn't say, as I did. And I think we never expressed to each other how we felt about dances and debuts and all the other stuff that mattered to him but didn't to me. If these things I knew, I wouldn't care about my utter lack of gracefulness anymore. When he asks me to dance, I know I will.
In the future, I'd probably take a certain, or slight, affinity for dancing. I might, but this I do not know yet. I may want to get up and dance every now and then. It might not even take me an invitation to get me to dance my heart out. I just might, on my own, decide to dance. I'm sure it would be great, loving something I used to hate, as I look back on the horrid memories of my past dislike for it. I might even laugh at the silliness of the idea - that I hated it so much before that I refused my dad's every offer to dance me through the boredom of the afternoon. That would probably be grand, yes. The day I finally lose myself to the music- just how my dad wanted me to before.
I would, probably, have many other dances in my life. Maybe in some party, or someone else's debut, maybe in a relative's wedding or my future own. I'd be dancing with many other people- people close to my heart and people that I trust enough to let them guide me through the tedious act of dancing. Time passes, and people go. Though eventually, I'll get to learn to like the art of dancing with somebody else- maybe not through LA walks or waltzes- but I know only one thing: I'd give up absolutely anything to dance with my father again. Absolutely anything.
Happy freakin birthday, daddy.
I'm college now!
Co-ed na.
Worried ka na no?
Haha. Right.
I can't even find decentness inside the campus.
No need, dad, no need.
Cheers.
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
killed a random reader @ 5:56 PM
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
flirting
Things are getting SO, SO, SO overly, ultimately crazy and out of hand in Botany.
Botany is the best class ever. Haha. I've never laughed the hardest in any other classes. Everyone seems to be flirting with one other, it's so funny. We have certain people we find annoying (excessively, if I might add. Super, super annoying.) Flirt is the word that best describes Botany classes. Haha. Hilarious flirting, super obvious flirting, overly subtle fllirting- you name it, Botany people do it.
Hay.
I have this super strong feeling that I'll be demoted to Fil 10. Gaaawd Fil 10. Why are Filipinos so clueless about Filipino? How utterly ironic and shameful. And I feel I'll be demoted to Math 1 as well! Haha. Grabe. I wish not to be, more than anything.
Not only is it super embarassing but it's also degrading in a way. It's a way of telling you that you've guessed your way to passing the ACET and you're not good enough to be taking advanced stuff. Go back to Basic and stick to it!
Anyway. Laine and Jam and Jessika were all talking to me in Chinese today. Well I asked them to. It was so fun. I was pretending I understood and answered them in English. I love it when people I know speak straight in a foreign language. It's just so fabulous. I wish I could do it with Spanish or French. There's something really lovely about the Spanish language.
Plus, their question mark usage is cool. Haha.
What else could I be writing about?
We have this photographic essay thing which is to be submitted on Monday.
And I don't have any ideas.
Can you believe it?
I can't either. I mean, I always have ideas- no matter how sensible or far-fetched they may be, but I always have them.
And now I don't.
Screw it! I need effing IDEAS!!!!!
Plus, I'm soooo uninspired. Nakakainis. Many will agree to this statement. Hello? We have zero 'potential inspiration' people around. It's kind of depressing. Haha. Anyway.
My writing's kind of messed up right now.
I'm not in the "zone" yet- the blogging/typing zone which i usually get into first, but I just felt like writing something for the heck of it. And this is the result.
Honestly, if you don't even get to finish reading this entry until here, I can't blame you.
I am SO boring today.
Cheers.
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
killed a random reader @ 7:07 PM
Monday, June 18, 2007
poetry for the dumb
Random things I've made in the past... nothing else to post except that, MATH nanaman. sucky...
First poem:
I thought I would be losing all of my fears
So I gave back the handkerchief I bought from Sears
The day I sold my heart for a bucket of tears
But I'm still afraid of changes
The only thing constant is so, they all say
But I hoped just as well that all things would just stay
The way that I know them, I silently pray
I'm still afraid of changes
The thing I fear worst is what's yet to come
A mainstay in comfort is what I've become
If I could just drown my thoughts with a bottle of rum
Then I won't be afraid of changes
Second poem:
Note: Read it with stops (3 stops per line)
I'm nauseous right now, puke
Get rid of it now, puke
I want to know how, puke
I WANT TO PUKE
I'm riding the car, puke
We still have an hour, puke
We haven't gone far, puke
I HAVE TO PUKE
I look a bit pale, puke
I'm bloated as a whale, puke
What an end to this tale, puke
IF I GET TO PUKE
I want to make a stop, puke
To a nearby, jam-packed shop, puke
They can all see me throw up, puke
I WANT TO PUKE
My dad is on the wheel, puke
He doesn't know 'bout my ordeal, puke
I couldn't eat another meal, puke
I HAVE TO PUKE
Driving through a rocky moor, puke
I couldn't take it anymore, puke
I threw up on the floor, puke
I GOT TO PUKE!
P.S. We have an English assignment. Photography thing. It's really cool. 5 different pics in a certain sequence. Take it, Name it, Submit it, Love it. ;)
Pahabol: Rec Week na. I want to join stuff! So many orgs, so little time. DAW. hahaha lul.
Cheers.
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
killed a random reader @ 8:20 PM
Thursday, June 14, 2007
seconds
Let's face it.
Everyone loves writing about their first day of classes.
Everyone loves talking about it. Everyone loves writing about it, typing about it, raving about it.
But not I.
I break tradition. I break the norm. I break expectation. I also break a lot of things beside what was mentioned, including promises, expensive Ming vases, and hearts.
RIIIIGHT. Super corny na.
Anyway, I'm breaking the usual by talking about my second day naman. Haha yun lang yun. After all the drama with the introduction and stuff.
So anyway.
Second day of classes. I have tons of blisters.
Damned flats, I say. Never wear them if you have a class in Kostka and Bellarmine the next. They make your feet hurt like hell. I still haven;t learned my lesson. Im bringing lots of band-aids tomorrow.
Everyone's new to everything.
Every freshman, I mean.
We all suffer from the same disease, this being the disease of ignorance.
We hardly know anything, therefore, we are constantly being embarrassed by our own idiocies.
We don't know how to swipe our IDs to enter the Rizal Lib. We don't know if the rows of chairs outside the MVP bookstore is for the purchasers. We don't know what we're going to do with all our diagnostic tests. We don't know if we'll be demoted to Math 1. We always don't know.
We always just don't.
I still don't know the proper locations of the proper buildings of my proper classes. I can't tell the difference of SEC A and all the other SECs there are upon appearance. I can't stand being alone during free periods and I walk like an idiot in my blue flats.
College feels weird. It feels new, but it doesn't. You somehow feel your freedom, but you also feel the pressure. I haven't gotten out of my summer vacation trance, though. I feel like college is all part of a very long summer break. With all the new rules and all the new people, you feel very, very unacquainted, and yet very, very familiar.
Oddly enough, I didn't feel anything particularly special about my being a college freshman. Before, of course, I used to take pride on being a HS freshie. Long sleeved uniforms possesed me and has made me this arrogant little biatch who looks down upon the Grade School people, who, in my opinion, knew nothing in this world that really mattered. Those scumbags used to look adoringly upon us, staring at our circular patch with a stitched number 1, and we felt great and powerful and ready to take on the world.
I used to bring my Bio and Chem books (my thickest ones) everywhere I go, lugging them around just to mock the lower batches of their incapability to inderstand genetics, balancing equations and phospsholipid bilayers.
I instantly loathed anything Grade School- and anything else that reminded me of my Grade School loserness, back when girl crushes are highly abundant (yuck) and lesbians ruled and dominated the population (double yuck).
Right now, I feel anything but superior. I won't be exactly jumping for joy if student of a lower batch from my HS giddily asks for college life details. It's just so random and so usual, even though it's not. College feels more like a large scale review center, swarming with different people of different 'cliques', with classes to catch, teachers to please, hallways to rush through and schedules to follow.
Of course, I didn't feel inferior as well. Upperclassmen don't seem to look down upon our newbie status, the obviousness of which has been very evident whenever we walk through SEC buildings clutching our backpack straps, not knowing where to go. The OrSem had been very welcoming, and not to mention, sort of weird in a way. Whenever we were asked to mobe out and all, a group of upperclassmen were sort of lined up t create a pathway for us, cheering and screaming and clapping and dancing and urging us to go and run to the next station. Then suddenly you sort of feel conscious and weird and suspicious all at the same time. You feel like you're Palm Sunday Jesus when he was welcomed by the same hypocrites who led him to his own crucifixion.
Not that I'm saying that upperclassmen are totally hypocritical, of course. I just felt like a star of a flop TV soap opera or something- they all cheering for me for a very shallow reason- or for none at all.
So ANYWAY, I'm putting up a list again, since I lovvvvve lists so much:
10 Fabulous Things About College:
10) SOM Mall- a less crowded, breezier version of the caf
9) Zen garden- there's something oddly appealing about it. Perfect for meet-ups and reviews and stuff.
8) CoEd-ness - finally after being forever surrounded with girls
7) More allowance - which translates to more savings
6) Study Hall - for cool-offs and babbling with blockmates
5) Excessive breaks - time to catch up with the latest gossip, or for nostalgia tripping
4) My awesome blockmates - (feeling) artistic, weird minds unite
3) New faces - I love new people, and meeting them, especially when they get to show you their inner awesomeness
2) UAAP Season- the perfect chance to show some school spirit. This time, when asked about my Ateneo support, I have no more excuses to make up.
Lastly,
1) It's ATENEO. (and Ateneo is love)
5 Sucky Things About College
5) My ID picture - I look like sh*t
4) Math - no one should take it personally. I just realy suck at math. Always have.
3) Diagnostic tests - those unexpected add-to-the-unpleasantness tests- gawd
2) Caf - the ordinary caf, when it's packed, it's PACKED
1) Blisters - the inevitable pain of blisters
Cheers.
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
killed a random reader @ 9:42 PM
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
nose holes
New, weird story that's not yet beet proofread. whatever.
Nose Holes
I have a bowl stuck on my face.
I have a goddamn bowl stuck on my face.
I really could kill my friends right now- that is if I could see them.
It started off as an innocent joke, of course, as how almost all tragic things start. They were, as they said, bored, and decided to super glue the rim of the shiny stainless steel bowl and put it on my face while I was sleeping. A goddamn bowl on my face while I was sleeping. I guess it's their form of entertainment- watching friends suffer from suffocation and embarrassment. Apparently, porn doesn't give them their full satisfaction. God knows I can't imagine why.
I woke up in a start that morning, seeing nothing but grey, my face all moist as it is covered with the goddamn bowl. I brought my hands to my face and felt something cold and hard, Like my worst nightmare finally coming true, I panicked. I screamed. I tried to get out of bed but I stumbled upon my side table. I heard laughing immediately.
They thought it was funny, of course. They also thought it would come out.
Those idiots. Really, they don't call it super glue just because they thought it would sell. I've seen those bloody things advertised on TV, when there's nothing else to watch except infomercials. Either that, or the Indian channel.
I've always thought that all those things they sold on TV never really work the way they claim it should. Well really, that man glued to the ceiling by his shoes with the super glue- totally fake. There's got to be some trick of some sort, right? I mean, who believes those things? They couldn't really work, could they?
That's what I thought.
And after this, well, what do you know. They do work.
Yes, they did drill a hole before they put the bowl on my face. It's in front of my mouth- so I could at least breathe and they don't end up in prison for killing me. But really, a mouth hole? Why not steel nostrils, huh? I bet those guys hoped I would be stuck like that for quite awhile, and they would have to feed me something through the mouth hole, like a little guinea pig for animal testing. God. And they expect me to be thankful for drilling a hole on the bowl? What a bunch of crap.
So, really, thanks guys for letting me live. I'm just utterly elated that I'm not suffocating my way up to heaven right now. Seriously.
Ugh.
Maybe if it was a ceramic bowl they glued on my face, I could've smashed it ages ago and had great fun banging my head against the dinner table. But it had to be stainless steel. And I wanted them to drill the whole bowl away so my face would come free, but those tiny, sharp particles might get in my nose, or mouth, or worse, my eye, causing me to be permanently blind instead of temporarily- by this stupid bowl. Plus, I would still probably have that rim circling my face like a big dart target. And this would make me look equally ridiculous.
I know they've been dying to laugh about my predicament ages ago. After all, it was their idea of a joke. But really, the least they could do is not laugh. I mean, they've cast upon all this trouble on me already, anyway. And when I do get back to my normal self, who knows what I'm going to do with those guys? Oh, I'll never let them forget it, that's for sure.
They've been feeding me Cheerios for an hour already, through the hole on the bowl they've made earlier. Milk has been dribbling off my chin because it has been trembling every time I open my mouth. Really, how can you trust the same guys who glued a bowl to your face? For all I know, they might be feeding me something ghastly already. Cheerios at the first bite, cockroach the next.
I've heard millions of clicking for the past half hour, and I could almost see those flash bulbs going on and off. I know they've been documenting this, those bastards. They're probably going to make a sad video of me and send it to AFV or something. Maybe even FedEx it to all my ex-girlfriends, if they could only find the right addresses. Those guys know no mercy, really. And I could kill them right now if I could.
I can't believe I even called them my friends.
We've been arguing ever since I woke up with a bowl stuck on my face, about what we'd do about it. One of my so-called friends suggested going over to the nearby hospital- maybe have it surgically removed or something. But God knows if I let them drive me there, they'd probably just take me to a pub for public display, or worse, to a circus. Now if I could just find my way to a hospital- a real one, maybe that's the only thing that could help me. Of course, I would have to be ready for the amazing embarrassment I would have to deal with upon visiting the hospital. There would be heaps upon heaps of insult, I'm sure. I can practically hear it.
"Mommy, what's that bowl doing on that man's face?"
"Just look away, honey. Just look away."
"Is that... a bowl?"
"Oh how awful!"
"Cool!"
"Listen to me sweetie. You will never try that at home, ever. Promise me, okay? That man is a lunatic."
"Oh my god. Oh my god!"
"Hah. That must've hurt."
"Hello, Izzie? You've got to here this. I'm in the hospital right now, and you won't believe what I just saw!"
"What the f*ck?"
"Oh darling, quick! Get the camera!"
"Yes, that's a perfect shot."
"Imagine trying to walk around like that!"
"What an idiot."
Yeah. The hospital scene? Not so pretty.
My other 'friend' wanted to get me a guide dog, and I couldn't tell if he was really serious about it or just trying his best not to laugh at the idea. Really, they're treating me like a completely blind person, and it's kind of insulting. And anyway, can a guide dog really get you to a hospital without getting you killed along the way first?
Then, this friend who suggested the hospital idea told me something, and really, it killed me. It really, really did.
"Well, I guess you just have to trust us, man."
That's what he said.
Trust? Trust? I'm not even sure if I still know the word "trust" anymore. This bowl has made me so goddamn paranoid, it's killing me. Those bastards have already gone through super gluing a bowl on my face AND still has the nerve to photograph me while I'm sitting in front of a bowl of Cheerios I can't even see, helpless. And they're asking me to trust them?
Hah. Yeah. That's gonna happen.
So, I refuse to be brought to the hospital by these guys, and I absolutely wouldn't consider the guide dog idea, so what now? It's not like I can take a cab and ask the driver to drive me to the hospital, and if he's up to it, maybe also walk me to the hospital steps and lead me to a real doctor who would take my case very, very seriously and who will do everything in his power to get me out of my problem- literally. I'm sure the odds of getting that kind of cab driver- one who would really drive me to a hospital and not to his fellow cabbies up for an extended lunch break at some alley (to be, presumably, their helpless laughingstock) - is like, one to a million. Which is practically never likely to happen.
The rest of the guys are now trying to convince me to at least do something about the bowl, since they couldn't get me to trust them and do something about it for me. But by that time, I was feeling my way through the house, being careful not to hit my groin on the way to the bedroom. When I finally managed to get there without knocking over something overly expensive (I think I've dropped a lamp somewhere, and a little crystal figurine, but anyway), I stretched out my arms like a boy about to hit a party piñata, and reached for my telephone at my study table. I did bump a knee or two before I found it, but when I did, I lifted the receiver and heard the dial tone. Jackpot.
I lifted the receiver and felt the top of the phone touch the metal rim of the bowl. I fumbled with the keypads and tried to dial the right numbers. My heart was semi-racing and I could still hear my friends arguing- this time, about what channel to watch. As if there are enough channels to begin with. They didn't even bother to look for me. Really, when I get this bowl off my face, I would kick them out of my place in their sorry asses. Those jerks.
I've made up my mind to call my Mom up, no matter how embarrassing it is for me, after I've just run away from home and said some pretty horrible things. I was a teenager then, and I wanted to live alone. Who could blame me? Practically every one my age was living on their own. Either that, or they were trying to make babies with their girlfriends.
I felt ridiculous having a bowl glued to my face. I felt like a dirty old sock. But I wanted to call my Mom. After all, every lost boy needs his mother.
And right now, I'm just far more than lost.
Goddamn bowl.
Maybe it's karma.
I knew I shouldn't have stolen that from Home Depot in the first place.
Random Note: Everyone seems to be changing their YM Ids now. Well, I guess the occasion calls for it, since we're going to college. Most of our IDs are all so grade school-ish. But I don't think I'll be changing mine anytime soon. Orsem tom. Yawn.
killed a random reader @ 11:29 PM
