i was on my way to the madison ave and 44th street j.crew when this pillow from one store caught my eye. it said:
BEHIND EVERY SUCCESSFUL WOMAN IS HERSELF.
if only it wasnt the baduy (and reality checking) cross-stiched kind of a lumbar pillow you are supposed to put on your lower back, i would have probably bought it for myself.
in this one sex and the city episode, miranda was calling carrie because of some emergency (i forgot) and carrie screened her call. miranda was really annoyed because she almost died.
i have this thing for answering machines, and screening calls. I HATE THEM.
you see, i grew up in a house where every call was answered. no phone call in the middle of the night was ignored because we were sleeping (most of the time, it would be the hospital, calling for her because her patient is delivering a baby)
now that i live alone, i answer all my phone calls except:
1. phone battery is dead
2. im at work (tmobile does not have signal in my office)
3. im in the subway
4. im sick (and im high from all the over the counter drugs)
5. and when im on a night out and i cant hear the phone.
otherwise, i would. i always make it a point to answer my calls even if it makes me grumpy because it woke me up.
i keep my phone open most of the time because my family lives far away, and because its the most certain way to reach me.
i remember one certain day when i was having a buffet dinner when my mom called me up and asked me if i was okay, turns out she saw an accident driving home and she got worried if i was in it. i thought she was crazy, and my voice definitely sounded that i did think she was crazy, but it calmed her.
i thank everyone who answered my calls in the middle of the night, because i was having a bad heartburn attack, and thought i was gonna die, everyone who consoled me when i was bored, annoyed, stressed and just wanted to do some girl talk.
i thank everyone who always answers their phone.
in this day and age of cellphones and the ability to reach anyone instantly, ironically, it is also the most unreachable. everyone is busy doing what they have to do and complain that the never have time to call anyone, and yet when somebody calls them, they ignore it and let the machine get it.
i dont get it.
"im busy" has always been the biggest and most convenient and most acceptable excuse.
has it ever occurred that a phone call can be as short as 30 seconds? just enough reason to find out why that person is calling?
if you keep letting your answering machine pick up your calls intentionally…
1. why do you give out your phone number?
2. why do you bother having it?
in a world of answering machines, i am most certainly afraid to call anyone. ive always been uncomfy with them, and i hate pouring myself out to recording devices.
but you will most certainly be sure that if you call, i will pick up. (save for those reasons ive mentioned above)
i have my bags packed. my outfits planned and my checkcard loaded with enough money to do some long overdue girl shopping activity with lee.
we have fantasized about this ever since EVER!!! since she is my voice of shopping unreason, im taking her along to my great shopping trip for the key west wedding im set to go on the first weekend of may.
and then i catch the friggin flu.
here i am, complaining my aching bones, fever and headaches to smithereens when i would really rather be shopping with her and drinking loads of alcohol with her husband. and my body hurts like mad.
i blame it on the combination of my weak immune system and…
thank god for american fastfood (yoshinoya, mcdonalds and kfc) and blockbuster video. and the greatest babysitter for crankiest patients.
most of you probably know that my mom is an anesthesiologist (my dad was a surgeon)
yeah, sadly, i didnt turn out to be one of them white coaters. while i sometimes feel bad that i didnt trudge the path that everyone wanted me to take, save for my parents, there are moments when i feel pangs of regret.
regret that is too fleeting to ponder upon.
enough of the dramatics.
lee and i have this great interest in the field of psychiatry. we have all too often used the term middle child syndrome (for me), only child syndrome (for her), and on certain occassions: bipolar disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), oedipal complex and the various forms of the word crazy, such as loony, lunatic, praning, abnormal… etc. etc.
of course, my mother would be familiar with these. after all, she needs basic psychiatry to deal with everyone’s hypochondria.
all too often, i would whine and whine some more about how people are. you know, the typical mother daughter thing when you ask (or mostly complain) to your mother why this person is annoying you, why that person reacts differently to yours and sometimes why a lot of them have certain behaviour annoys the general public.
she doesnt call it by any kind of medical term. she calls it with her three magical letters.
KSP. (kulang sa pansin. in english, annoying attention getter)
oddly enough, it soothes my raging nerves down to a giggle.
i have been on the constant clamor for lazy days. in fact, i have successfully converted my weekend mornings into the great snorefest that i deserve after a long week of work.
i have managed to deal with my weekends without much activity — in fact i have successfully managed to not cook any proper food for the past week — mostly relying on takeout and leftover takeout. it had been a rewarding experience with regards to my use of time. somehow, after this experience, i have come to the conclusion that i waste so much time doing chores. chores chores chores chores.
my hours were passed by playing with the great super mario brothers three on my game boy…
i deal with inactivity so well, that any small bit of activity tires me. (weird, isnt it?)
sometimes, i think that time passes by so quickly that i tire just letting it pass. its odd that i try so hard to be bored and not tired. (most of the time im tired of the daily grind that it bores me)
it would either be of two things. the long delayed winter blues, or the premature birthday blues.
