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| photo credit |
Time is running out on 2010. A new year is beginning. A new chapter. This is what I love most about the new year. The slate is wiped clean. You can leave everything behind and start fresh.
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| photo credit |
Popular Posts
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If there are two things about women that men are so fascinated with, it's our breasts. photo credit It doesn't matter that as ... -
If you are familiar with the show from the 80's (Tales from the Crypt), then you will know that this is a horror story. Or in this case,... -
Stuff I got for Christmas. If it weren't for the fact that Kris Kringle is more or less "compulsory" in the office. I wouldn&#... -
The story of Pi was that of an ordinary boy of extraordinary faith who went under extraordinary circumstances. It was a story of survival. ... -
There was no plan. At all. I was supposed to sleep after my shift. Instead, I got dragged to the mall to buy the outfit I wasn't plannin...
Friday, December 31, 2010
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By:
Hazel
Let The Countdown Begin
Time is running out on 2010. A new year is beginning. A new chapter. This is what I love most about the new year. The slate is wiped clean. You can leave everything behind and start fresh.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
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By:
Hazel
I'll Be Home for Christmas
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| photo credit |
It's true that Christmas is not like what it used to be. Very few people seems to be aware of its true meaning. For some, it is just a reason to splurge and this mentality has given rise to the kind of commercialism that equates happiness to spending. It is ridiculous of course but most people fall into this kind of trap, myself included. But to each his own and if some people believe that they could buy happiness, who are we to tell them otherwise?
I remembered when I was a kid, I used to receive gifts on Christmas from my aunts. I was very happy. Admittedly, the magnitude of my happiness is directly proportional to the price tag of the gift. But the mere act of receiving is a gift in itself. I never remembered being sad because I received less than what I expected. We did not ask gifts from our parents and they never gave us any on Christmas. On New Year's though, my parents have this long standing tradition of strewing coins in the living room as if they were confetti. My siblings and I would scramble to get as many as we can. We still do this up to this day but as expected I am no longer at the receiving end of gifts. Except for the compulsory gift-giving during Christmas party at the office, I do not receive gifts anymore. But you know what? It's okay. I like giving gifts anyway.
And the look on people's faces when they received their little wrapped presents? Priceless.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
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By:
Hazel
Christmas is almost here....
It's so near I could almost smell it. I have not blogged since last week but I promise to make up for it during my long Christmas vacation back in my hometown with my family. I'm so excited I'm just dying to get on that boat.
Hello, Cagayan de Oro. Hello, Christmas. One more day to go. :)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
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By:
Hazel
Song of the Moment: Wag Kang Matakot
Wag kang matakot
Dahil ang buhay moy walang katapusan...
...Ikaw ang dyosa't hari nang iyong mundo
Matakot sila sa 'yo...
How true, how true. This one is a song for the deities and this goes out to all the ladies out there who are goddesses in their own right.
Thank you, Eraserheads, for encapsulating in those few lines the force majeure that is a woman. If Ely B. were a woman, this song would have been perfect but we can't have everything.
However, this song does send a message. Guys, be scared. Be very scared.
Monday, December 13, 2010
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By:
Hazel
Men and Women's Anatomy
If there are two things about women that men are so fascinated with, it's our breasts.
It doesn't matter that as infants they were fed from this part of a woman's anatomy, which is ewww. They go through their lives in constant awe from the wonders that is our boobs. Maybe the fact that they were breastfed as infants is what holds this fascination. That something so... squishy and so... jiggly could sustain them is indeed a cause for wonder. But then again, it could also be because both men and women have them but no matter how hard they work out at the gym, they can never grow theirs as big as ours. Let's just say thank God, He knows what it attractive, because for the life of me, I could never imagine macho men walking around with Pamela Lee's racks. That's just wrong. It's something out of the Twilight Zone series.
I have been face-to-face with this charisma that our boobs have over men on more than one occasion. I noticed that if you show them just a hint of cleavage, they will not be able to help themselves. They will look. But since, it is just a hint of flesh and you are not being whore-ish, they just steal glances here and there for fear of invoking the wrath of sexual harassment charges.
Guys, even if you go on painstaking lengths to be cautious, we know that you are looking. Trust us, it's pretty obvious that you are looking at our chest when you are supposed to be looking at our faces when we are talking to you. It's obvious even if you are just "stealing" a glance. We understand that it is something instinctual and you can't stop yourselves. But your gentlemanly pretense is hilarious when you are just dying to see the goods.
A few times when I'd dressed slutty and displayed breast cheeks, they'd drop pretenses altogether and greet my boobs. And how about when you are talking to a guy and he is standing up while you are sitting down? Nine times out of ten, he's looking down inside the shirt.
I am reminded of a scene from the Big Bang Theory, when Penny was introduced to Leslie, the female genius.
Penny: Wow, a woman scientist! Cool!
Leslie: Yes. Guys come for the breast and stay for the brains.
Sadly, more often than not, men just come for the breasts period. If he is the kind of guy who stays for the brain, then he is probably not the kind of guy who came for the breast in the first place. But how many guys do you know are like that? How many, pray tell? (Janica, don't answer that question.)
It's funny how a lot of women go through the hassle of enhancing their boobs to make them more attractive to men. Sometimes surgical, like getting implants. Sometimes manual, like stuffing wads of tissue in their bra. Girls, you do not have to do any of these. Cut your breasts some slack and trust in the power they wield against all men. Big or small, all-natural or enhanced, men will take boobs in however way they can. Just as long as they are attached to a female homo sapien. Your A-cups should not be the cause of your worries. They should not be the reason for your inability to find a mate. The fact that there are more than a couple billion other women who possess the same anatomical parts is where the problem lies.
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| photo credit |
I have been face-to-face with this charisma that our boobs have over men on more than one occasion. I noticed that if you show them just a hint of cleavage, they will not be able to help themselves. They will look. But since, it is just a hint of flesh and you are not being whore-ish, they just steal glances here and there for fear of invoking the wrath of sexual harassment charges.
Guys, even if you go on painstaking lengths to be cautious, we know that you are looking. Trust us, it's pretty obvious that you are looking at our chest when you are supposed to be looking at our faces when we are talking to you. It's obvious even if you are just "stealing" a glance. We understand that it is something instinctual and you can't stop yourselves. But your gentlemanly pretense is hilarious when you are just dying to see the goods.
A few times when I'd dressed slutty and displayed breast cheeks, they'd drop pretenses altogether and greet my boobs. And how about when you are talking to a guy and he is standing up while you are sitting down? Nine times out of ten, he's looking down inside the shirt.
I am reminded of a scene from the Big Bang Theory, when Penny was introduced to Leslie, the female genius.
Penny: Wow, a woman scientist! Cool!
Leslie: Yes. Guys come for the breast and stay for the brains.
Sadly, more often than not, men just come for the breasts period. If he is the kind of guy who stays for the brain, then he is probably not the kind of guy who came for the breast in the first place. But how many guys do you know are like that? How many, pray tell? (Janica, don't answer that question.)
It's funny how a lot of women go through the hassle of enhancing their boobs to make them more attractive to men. Sometimes surgical, like getting implants. Sometimes manual, like stuffing wads of tissue in their bra. Girls, you do not have to do any of these. Cut your breasts some slack and trust in the power they wield against all men. Big or small, all-natural or enhanced, men will take boobs in however way they can. Just as long as they are attached to a female homo sapien. Your A-cups should not be the cause of your worries. They should not be the reason for your inability to find a mate. The fact that there are more than a couple billion other women who possess the same anatomical parts is where the problem lies.
Friday, December 10, 2010
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By:
Hazel
It Always Rains On My Parade
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| photo credit |
I was born in summer. I'm dark-skinned. Unlike every other Filipino women (and men) I know, I am not afraid of constant or over exposure to the sun. I am not afraid of getting sunburned. I am already burnt. There is nothing more that the sun could do to me that would bring about distress and hoarding of whitening products. I flourish under the sun. I love the sun. I worship the sun. Even if it is scorching outside, I would never bring an umbrella, another contraption I hate with a passion. Which is why I hate the rain even more. Try going somewhere in the rain without an umbrella. I cannot count how many umbrellas I have lost when I was still going to school. It distressed my mother that I had not the slightest inclination to protect myself from the constant ridicule of schoolyard bullies. So what if they call me 'Negra'? They can all froth at the mouth from calling me names but there is no way in hell I'm bringing an umbrella.
It is true when they say that when it rains, it really pours. In the Philippines, it pours a lot. And true to nuisance fashion, it always comes in the most inopportune times. Like when I'm wearing a dress and killer heels on my way to an important appointment and I find that my hair is in sudden need of of blow drying. Or when I'm supposed to play tennis but the court is submerged in rainwater and can be used for swimming. Or when I'm going to meet friends and suddenly the outfit I had previously picked out is no longer appropriate because of the weather. Or on my way to the office when I have a deadline and I get stuck at the other side of the street. Or when I need to run an errand but can't because I have no stinking umbrella. On a side note, did you notice that in the Book of Revelations, the apocalypse is signaled by raining something? Stones, fire, ice, scorpions, frogs, cats, dogs...
And what about the aftermath? Flood water and more flood water. Filth, filth and more filth. Mud, mud and even more mud. Everything is wet and unlike the images that poetry would have you believe, it is not beautiful. It is wet in a depressing and unattractive sort of way. This list could go on. What can I say? When you really hate something, you will not find any redeeming quality in it. Give me something you like about the rain and I will turn it into something awful.
In hindsight, I don't think I will be able to appreciate a sunny day as much if I don't hate the rain. There is always a yin to every yang. Maintaining a cosmic balance is such a pain in the posterior.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
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By:
Hazel
My Imaginary Conversation With a Non-Entity
My profuse apologies to the loyal readers of my blog which has now reached a count of 4 people. I know that you needed your goddess fix 3 times a week but I have not been updating for reasons I'm gonna explain below. Just this weekend, I was plagued with the most mortal of conundrums.
I got sick.
I don't get sick a lot. Germs would be lucky if they get into my system twice a year. But when I do get sick it's a big deal because germs come in full force. I get fever, chills, diarrhea, vomiting, the works, all in one setting. If disease were a festival, mine would be the Carnival at Rio. However, I am not the type of person who lets microscopic life forms get in the way of life. When I woke up on Saturday, my stomach felt funny but I went on with my tennis lessons anyway. It got progressively worse that by lunch time, even if I was really hungry, I couldn't eat anything because I felt like throwing up. I went home and had a major case of diarrhea. I took some medication then I slept and woke up at 3pm because I was going to have a coffee date with Janica. But I suddenly realized that I was running a fever and my stomach upset worsened. The more sensible of you might say stay in bed and get some more rest. You must understand, I do not see this person a lot. So when we set a date, it's written in stone. I just had to go. So I got up, vomit my intestines out and went. It's funny how vomiting can help you feel better because when I met Janica at the mall, there was no indication of the civil war being waged inside my body.
We blew our cash on overpriced coffee and stared out at the newly-opened hotel building across the street. I had the best toffee-chocolate cake ever. Then we stared out at the new hotel some more. But I left the mall feeling like I just had the most interesting conversation ever. Friendship is a funny thing.
When I got back to the dorm at around 7pm, I was sick again. I took my meds and slept. After another 2 hours, I woke up and threw up. My vomit tasted of the cake that I had earlier that I was tempted to swallow it back up. I remembered that I had not eaten anything the whole day except for the cake which now lies in that black hole where crap goes after they are flushed out of the john. So I ate a little then I asked my cousin to rub my back which was aching like it's going to burst open.
I tried to have a conversation with my tormentors.
Me (channeling Gollum): Leave now and never come back! Leave now and never come back!
Germs: Sorry, vacation's not yet over.
Me (threatening mode): If you don't leave, I'll make sure that you are coming with me to the grave.
Germs: Nyahahahaha. Are we supposed to be scared now?
Damn parasite! They are not getting out without a fight. But I still wanted to give it another shot.
Me(bargaining mode): If you leave now and torture somebody else, I'll stop taking the meds, thereby increasing your chances of actually getting out of my body alive. I'll go back to being healthy and you can go on being a parasite. Everyone happy except the next host.
I fell asleep before the germ could formulate a witty reply. I woke up on Sunday still feeling feverish. Apparently, the germs are a slow bunch and have not yet made up their minds whether to accept my generous offer. Or maybe I'm the one who was dense and didn't get that the unwelcome tenants had rejected my offer. Be that as it may, I made sure the the delay or rejection on their part would cost them dearly. I took more meds. Die, you filthy animals! Die!
I went to my tennis lessons again but this time I made sure not to over exert myself. Like I said, I am not the type of person to let disease get in the way. I would never let them germs have that kind of power. Besides, no one in their deathbed ever said that they wish they had taken more bed rest.
To be human is to suffer and to deal with life forms which are so useless they can only survive by living off of other life forms. As if dealing with everyday life is not enough of a challenge, you have to fight creatures which you cannot see. What are our chances of winning?
Mortality, "thou art a heartless bitch".
I got sick.
I don't get sick a lot. Germs would be lucky if they get into my system twice a year. But when I do get sick it's a big deal because germs come in full force. I get fever, chills, diarrhea, vomiting, the works, all in one setting. If disease were a festival, mine would be the Carnival at Rio. However, I am not the type of person who lets microscopic life forms get in the way of life. When I woke up on Saturday, my stomach felt funny but I went on with my tennis lessons anyway. It got progressively worse that by lunch time, even if I was really hungry, I couldn't eat anything because I felt like throwing up. I went home and had a major case of diarrhea. I took some medication then I slept and woke up at 3pm because I was going to have a coffee date with Janica. But I suddenly realized that I was running a fever and my stomach upset worsened. The more sensible of you might say stay in bed and get some more rest. You must understand, I do not see this person a lot. So when we set a date, it's written in stone. I just had to go. So I got up, vomit my intestines out and went. It's funny how vomiting can help you feel better because when I met Janica at the mall, there was no indication of the civil war being waged inside my body.
We blew our cash on overpriced coffee and stared out at the newly-opened hotel building across the street. I had the best toffee-chocolate cake ever. Then we stared out at the new hotel some more. But I left the mall feeling like I just had the most interesting conversation ever. Friendship is a funny thing.
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| photo courtesy: Janica |
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| Her (taken with my phone's cam) |
I tried to have a conversation with my tormentors.
Me (channeling Gollum): Leave now and never come back! Leave now and never come back!
Germs: Sorry, vacation's not yet over.
Me (threatening mode): If you don't leave, I'll make sure that you are coming with me to the grave.
Germs: Nyahahahaha. Are we supposed to be scared now?
Damn parasite! They are not getting out without a fight. But I still wanted to give it another shot.
Me(bargaining mode): If you leave now and torture somebody else, I'll stop taking the meds, thereby increasing your chances of actually getting out of my body alive. I'll go back to being healthy and you can go on being a parasite. Everyone happy except the next host.
I fell asleep before the germ could formulate a witty reply. I woke up on Sunday still feeling feverish. Apparently, the germs are a slow bunch and have not yet made up their minds whether to accept my generous offer. Or maybe I'm the one who was dense and didn't get that the unwelcome tenants had rejected my offer. Be that as it may, I made sure the the delay or rejection on their part would cost them dearly. I took more meds. Die, you filthy animals! Die!
I went to my tennis lessons again but this time I made sure not to over exert myself. Like I said, I am not the type of person to let disease get in the way. I would never let them germs have that kind of power. Besides, no one in their deathbed ever said that they wish they had taken more bed rest.
To be human is to suffer and to deal with life forms which are so useless they can only survive by living off of other life forms. As if dealing with everyday life is not enough of a challenge, you have to fight creatures which you cannot see. What are our chances of winning?
Mortality, "thou art a heartless bitch".
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
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By:
Hazel
Tales From the Creep
If you are familiar with the show from the 80's (Tales from the Crypt), then you will know that this is a horror story. Or in this case, a series of horror stories based on actual events.
Story 1
(Unknown person called. Girl picked up.)
Unknown person (guy): I love you.
Girl: Who is this?
(Guy hung up the phone but proceeded to repeat this procedure 5 times a day. Girl soon got tired of this so she did some research and found out who the caller was. So the next time the phone rang...)
Guy: I love you.
Girl: Classmate, I know who you are.
Guy: Ahh...Uhmmm... Sorry, wrong number.
Story 2
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: What are you doing?
Girl: I'm working.
Guy: Please turn on your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm working.
Guy: I want to see you.
Girl: You'll see me when you get to work tomorrow.
Guy: I want to see what you are wearing.
Girl: My work clothes. Geesh, you're like Norman Bates.
Guy: Who is Norman Bates?
Girl: That's you, sicko.
Story 3
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
Girl: I'm okay.
Guy: Please use your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm at work.
Guy: Please. Just use your webcam.
Girl: I'm sorry but I really can't.
Guy: You know me. If I don't get what I want, I'll get angry and I'll bang this keyboard on my desk.
(Like I care? Offline mode.)
Story 4
Guy: Can I have your number?
(Girl doesn't know how to say no to requests like these, so she gave him the number. The next day, Guy texted Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
(Girl saw this as a chance to let Guy down without confrontation.)
Girl: I'm okay. But please don't text me, my boyfriend will not like it.
Guy: Okay. Let's go to church later.
(Huh?)
Girl: I will but I'm going with my boyfriend.
Guy: Why do you always have to be with him? He's already your boyfriend.
(That's a good question but I have a better one: If I'm not gonna be with him, then who should I be with? You? Don't think so. Remove from contacts.)
Story 5
Guy: Let's go out on a date.
Girl: Excuse me, you have a girlfriend.
Guy: Do you want me to break up with her? Because I will if you ask me to...
(Uhmmm.... Is that supposed to make me feel special?)
Story 6
(Guy posted on Girl's Facebook wall.)
Guy: Your smile is nice.
(Obviously, Guy has not seen Girl's awful teeth. But a compliment is a compliment.)
Girl: Thanks.
Guy: You're beautiful, baby.
(Ewwww. Remove post.)
Creeps of the world abound. Most of them men. I really only know two creepy women. One is me and the other is a housekeeper we had a long time ago. Somebody told me that creepiness is contagious. If you are exposed to it for prolonged periods, you will assimilate creep. But then again, there is a creep gene in every single one of us. It comes out especially at times when the current object of our obsession is unaware of our existence. And that's fine. But if you see a full-pledge creep heading your way, run screaming to the opposite direction. We can only hope that, for recognition purposes, they are wearing a name tag.
Story 1
(Unknown person called. Girl picked up.)
Unknown person (guy): I love you.
Girl: Who is this?
(Guy hung up the phone but proceeded to repeat this procedure 5 times a day. Girl soon got tired of this so she did some research and found out who the caller was. So the next time the phone rang...)
Guy: I love you.
Girl: Classmate, I know who you are.
Guy: Ahh...Uhmmm... Sorry, wrong number.
Story 2
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: What are you doing?
Girl: I'm working.
Guy: Please turn on your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm working.
Guy: I want to see you.
Girl: You'll see me when you get to work tomorrow.
Guy: I want to see what you are wearing.
Girl: My work clothes. Geesh, you're like Norman Bates.
Guy: Who is Norman Bates?
Girl: That's you, sicko.
Story 3
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
Girl: I'm okay.
Guy: Please use your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm at work.
Guy: Please. Just use your webcam.
Girl: I'm sorry but I really can't.
Guy: You know me. If I don't get what I want, I'll get angry and I'll bang this keyboard on my desk.
(Like I care? Offline mode.)
Story 4
Guy: Can I have your number?
(Girl doesn't know how to say no to requests like these, so she gave him the number. The next day, Guy texted Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
(Girl saw this as a chance to let Guy down without confrontation.)
Girl: I'm okay. But please don't text me, my boyfriend will not like it.
Guy: Okay. Let's go to church later.
(Huh?)
Girl: I will but I'm going with my boyfriend.
Guy: Why do you always have to be with him? He's already your boyfriend.
(That's a good question but I have a better one: If I'm not gonna be with him, then who should I be with? You? Don't think so. Remove from contacts.)
Story 5
Guy: Let's go out on a date.
Girl: Excuse me, you have a girlfriend.
Guy: Do you want me to break up with her? Because I will if you ask me to...
(Uhmmm.... Is that supposed to make me feel special?)
Story 6
(Guy posted on Girl's Facebook wall.)
Guy: Your smile is nice.
(Obviously, Guy has not seen Girl's awful teeth. But a compliment is a compliment.)
Girl: Thanks.
Guy: You're beautiful, baby.
(Ewwww. Remove post.)
Creeps of the world abound. Most of them men. I really only know two creepy women. One is me and the other is a housekeeper we had a long time ago. Somebody told me that creepiness is contagious. If you are exposed to it for prolonged periods, you will assimilate creep. But then again, there is a creep gene in every single one of us. It comes out especially at times when the current object of our obsession is unaware of our existence. And that's fine. But if you see a full-pledge creep heading your way, run screaming to the opposite direction. We can only hope that, for recognition purposes, they are wearing a name tag.
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| The Crypt keeper, creepy but genius. (photo credit) |
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About Me
- Hazel
- I'm a goddess. I'm a nut-case. I just realized that I've become a here-and-now person and not anymore the look-far-into-the-future type I used to be. I laugh hard. I love harder.