Yuck I hate it that all my recent posts sound depressing. Especially when I had the best surprise on the night of my birthday (haha kunek!). Yep, I got my suprise! It more than made up for all the crap that morning (which, as predicted, did not go well). Yay! Hehe. And I had a pretty good weekend.
But now I'm not so fine. Haha! Hay. Oh well, it's not me if I'm not emotionally confused and torn, let's just put it that way.:D
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
THE PITS
Why do not feel alright? I AM happy. But sometimes during the day I am suddenly jolted by the realization that something's missing. Yes yes yes yes. I'm griping about my life. Forgive me. I don't have money for a psychiatrist. I honestly think I'm borderline.
I think this mini-anxiety attack is triggered by the fact that I am presently jobless. Coupled with that is the fact that I recently demanded from my mom to the highest level that I could (meaning we had a fight) that I be given independence. Actually, I'm just thinking she understood it as independence. My exact words were "I want to be given the chance to define my life."
After that argument (which had to happen on my birthday, yey), I sensed that she backed off a bit. Or maybe just ignored me out of spite. Either way, I felt a certain aloneness. I asked for it, and I got it. It felt quite strange to say the least.
Anyway, since by all normal accounts a job is a very concrete measure of independence, I'm quite scared as well, seeing that I obviously have none. And if I should consider a job my ultimate yardstick (good thing I don't, not completely), this "defining life" shit is certainly backfiring, because truthfully, I'm STILL not sure what kind of specific job I would like to have.
Back to square one.
Very scary. Extremely painful.
I texted Rhea last night and asked her plainly, "masaya ka ba?" I wanted to find out, among other things, if stability is cause for happiness. It is not. I knew that already, I guess.
Haaaaaaay. I think one problem that is my fault completely, is that I am not looking as hard as I probably should. I'm not the type who walks down Ayala Avenue with copies of my CV and an umbrella, like my friends used to do (and bless them because they have jobs now). Either I'm too confident or I'm too afraid of rejection. I think it's the latter. Things had come too easy in the past, and now that they are not, I feel helpless.
I don't want to go back to my old life. How many times have I said this? This time I mean it. No more of the familiar, comfortable life I used to have, where lunches were signed for and I got what I wanted because I had my ID and I knew people (damn I sound like friggin Celine). I knew what power meant, but not from reading 48 Laws. I just knew. I saw both its beauty and brutality. And I've been running away since.
But at the same time I've been holding on. This I've come to realize, and I have to be honest with myself, otherwise I can't truly move on. Len was right when she said "wala ka naman ata talaga problema" at the time that I was telling them I wanted to leave but couldn't (during the first few weeks that I returned to my old job--which I've now left again, for the second time). Because if I wanted to leave then, I would have done so in an instant. But it felt so familiar, so natural. Instinctive. It was the best and the worst kind of fallback for a person like me.
But enough now. Enough. Truly, enough.
Maybe I do need this. I need to be scared. I need to not be on top of the game. I need to feel lost. I need to feel powerless.
I think this mini-anxiety attack is triggered by the fact that I am presently jobless. Coupled with that is the fact that I recently demanded from my mom to the highest level that I could (meaning we had a fight) that I be given independence. Actually, I'm just thinking she understood it as independence. My exact words were "I want to be given the chance to define my life."
After that argument (which had to happen on my birthday, yey), I sensed that she backed off a bit. Or maybe just ignored me out of spite. Either way, I felt a certain aloneness. I asked for it, and I got it. It felt quite strange to say the least.
Anyway, since by all normal accounts a job is a very concrete measure of independence, I'm quite scared as well, seeing that I obviously have none. And if I should consider a job my ultimate yardstick (good thing I don't, not completely), this "defining life" shit is certainly backfiring, because truthfully, I'm STILL not sure what kind of specific job I would like to have.
Back to square one.
Very scary. Extremely painful.
I texted Rhea last night and asked her plainly, "masaya ka ba?" I wanted to find out, among other things, if stability is cause for happiness. It is not. I knew that already, I guess.
Haaaaaaay. I think one problem that is my fault completely, is that I am not looking as hard as I probably should. I'm not the type who walks down Ayala Avenue with copies of my CV and an umbrella, like my friends used to do (and bless them because they have jobs now). Either I'm too confident or I'm too afraid of rejection. I think it's the latter. Things had come too easy in the past, and now that they are not, I feel helpless.
I don't want to go back to my old life. How many times have I said this? This time I mean it. No more of the familiar, comfortable life I used to have, where lunches were signed for and I got what I wanted because I had my ID and I knew people (damn I sound like friggin Celine). I knew what power meant, but not from reading 48 Laws. I just knew. I saw both its beauty and brutality. And I've been running away since.
But at the same time I've been holding on. This I've come to realize, and I have to be honest with myself, otherwise I can't truly move on. Len was right when she said "wala ka naman ata talaga problema" at the time that I was telling them I wanted to leave but couldn't (during the first few weeks that I returned to my old job--which I've now left again, for the second time). Because if I wanted to leave then, I would have done so in an instant. But it felt so familiar, so natural. Instinctive. It was the best and the worst kind of fallback for a person like me.
But enough now. Enough. Truly, enough.
Maybe I do need this. I need to be scared. I need to not be on top of the game. I need to feel lost. I need to feel powerless.
Monday, October 17, 2005
NOT GOOD
I'm really not looking forward to my birthday this year. For some reason, I'm fearing it might be a blah birthday. For one, I couldn't really decide what kind of party to throw. Eat out? Where? When? Before or after my birthday (the first choice has gone pffft, as it is exactly two days before my day and nothing's happened yet)? Or, get drunk and crazy at home? Again, when? Do I invite pockets of friends or throw them all together? Who will be in charge of the mic when someone wants to vidoeke? Yes, I say it's a verb.
I think I've settled on the second option, maybe. Anyway, I admit I've gotten kinda tired of going crazy in bars. I miss "getting drunk" indoors and talking about life and love and jobs, or the lack thereof. Sheesh that sounds super boring haha. I guess I just miss the simple company of friends. The problem with that is logistics. But since my friends love me as they are supposed to,:) they wouldn't mind the excursion to my house, right? Riiight. We're actually all a bunch of brats, so I could understand.
Haaaay. I really don't know what to do. Guys, help me, will ya? Since you've been asking bout it anyways, please gimme some ideas. Pleasepleaseplease. And hello clubbers and militant elitists, PLEASE reply asap!!! Where are you? Where are all of you? Are we getting old and is life becoming more and more unfair that we never get to see one another anymore? Save for those impromptu coffee meetings that rarely even happen, I haven't seen any of you in lightyears.:( Same goes to KL, Shivs et al. Good thing KL called and promised to treat me to lunch on Wednesday. YAY! SURPers, I'm fixing the sked. If my original plan doesn't push through, I'll have something for you after the 30th, which means next sem? Waaah. FANGS, I'll just go with the flow. I haven't told you guys yet, but I'll be happy to treat you on Kash's proposed November dinner date. Hmm, do you kiddos even read my blog? Hehe.
I'm on the brink of not throwing a bday bash at all. Ang gulo! And Mark would be at work the entire week, which doesn't help at all. But that's okay babe. Hehe. And to top it off, I'll be turning 23. That's two years before 25 (duh). Egad!!! I'm deathly afraid that I might suddenly make like Celine Lopez and prattle on about inane pre/post-quarter life, pseudo-existentialist angst triggered by a confusion over LV bags and Gucci leather and driven by a wannabe Upper East Side mentality. Speaking of Celine, I read another one of her articles. Lord help me. I thank heavens that whatever I do in life, whatever stupidity I find myself committing, I will never be quite like her. Or so Ajeet bash my head now with the heel of a Jimmy Choo shoe. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Waaaaah!
Haaay. Someone surprise me please. And surprise me good. I badly need it.
I think I've settled on the second option, maybe. Anyway, I admit I've gotten kinda tired of going crazy in bars. I miss "getting drunk" indoors and talking about life and love and jobs, or the lack thereof. Sheesh that sounds super boring haha. I guess I just miss the simple company of friends. The problem with that is logistics. But since my friends love me as they are supposed to,:) they wouldn't mind the excursion to my house, right? Riiight. We're actually all a bunch of brats, so I could understand.
Haaaay. I really don't know what to do. Guys, help me, will ya? Since you've been asking bout it anyways, please gimme some ideas. Pleasepleaseplease. And hello clubbers and militant elitists, PLEASE reply asap!!! Where are you? Where are all of you? Are we getting old and is life becoming more and more unfair that we never get to see one another anymore? Save for those impromptu coffee meetings that rarely even happen, I haven't seen any of you in lightyears.:( Same goes to KL, Shivs et al. Good thing KL called and promised to treat me to lunch on Wednesday. YAY! SURPers, I'm fixing the sked. If my original plan doesn't push through, I'll have something for you after the 30th, which means next sem? Waaah. FANGS, I'll just go with the flow. I haven't told you guys yet, but I'll be happy to treat you on Kash's proposed November dinner date. Hmm, do you kiddos even read my blog? Hehe.
I'm on the brink of not throwing a bday bash at all. Ang gulo! And Mark would be at work the entire week, which doesn't help at all. But that's okay babe. Hehe. And to top it off, I'll be turning 23. That's two years before 25 (duh). Egad!!! I'm deathly afraid that I might suddenly make like Celine Lopez and prattle on about inane pre/post-quarter life, pseudo-existentialist angst triggered by a confusion over LV bags and Gucci leather and driven by a wannabe Upper East Side mentality. Speaking of Celine, I read another one of her articles. Lord help me. I thank heavens that whatever I do in life, whatever stupidity I find myself committing, I will never be quite like her. Or so Ajeet bash my head now with the heel of a Jimmy Choo shoe. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Waaaaah!
Haaay. Someone surprise me please. And surprise me good. I badly need it.
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