Month: January 2015
Dream Blog: She’s Not Dating The Gangster (Yet? Hopefully)
I swear to God, I don’t read Wattpad or any of its cheesy anime-style covered churn-outs that you can buy from your local convenience store. So when I had a gangster-themed dream last night, I found it strange yet interesting.
I was on a foggy bridge with Fernan, Kel, Rap, another pretty big guy I definitely know but forgot who, and Joy. We were waiting on the bridge for some punks to show up so we can beat the Daniel Padilla out of them. Instead of letting the time pass idly, my friends decided to wisely spend it by training me. Apparently, even my dreams, I am a damn noob.
The first to teach me was Fernan. He tried to teach me how to properly land a punch. He explained the importance of footwork and the proper stance, and then did a demonstration, which he told me to imitate, so I did. As I emulated him, I noticed a pair of sharp eyes intently watching my every move. Joy’s. Come to think of it, it was quite peculiar for a girl like her to be found in a potential turf war. What was her role? A fighter too? Our manager? The one who will record the fight? I don’t know. If this dream is fully fabricated by my subconscious, then I guess I have a pretty creative, cool, and badass subsconscious. If this dream is a vision based on a current or upcoming reality, then she is or will become either a street-wise street-tough girl with killer moves or one of those guys from Inception who jacks dreams.
Anyway, I’m digressing. As she watched me, I felt pressured, as if I had the need to step up. Well, any heterosexual male would feel the same if a cute girl watches them, more so if that particular attractive female is fancied by the guy. I’m a writer, not a fighter, but I had to make her think I’m cool, so I did my best. Thankfully, I did, so Fernan commended me.
After the short fisticuffs training session came idle chit-chat, which was followed by something…annoying. Rap grabbed me by the waist and attempted to suplex me for no apparent reason. As he did, he told me that I was so light and that I need to bulk up. Apparently, he’s the part of my subconscious that’s telling me to get ripped. Anyway, when both my feet were thrashing in midair, I asked for Rap to put me down, which he thankfully did. Unfortunately, it was already too late – my nonexistent gangster toughness has already been tarnished in Joy’s jet-black aquiline eyes.
She had a severe case of the giggles, so much so that she had to cover her lips, clutch her stomach, and bend a few degrees forward to contain it. Confound it all to the highest of heavens! I thought that she probably thought of me was a wimp, so I got pissed with myself, which caused a “kick” and woke me up. I looked at the clock. 7:30-something, so I got up and wrote this.
I wonder where did all that come from? Maybe a fight’s about to go down really soon. Then again, I’ve been fighting (not literally) all my life, so I guess it just means that another epic chapter’s about to come really soon. Or maybe the writer in me just wanted to have something to put in this blog. I don’t know.
P.S. If Joy were a gangster girl, she’d be Aoi Kunieda from Beelzebub.
The physical similarities are uncanny. I wonder if she can also wield a katana just as wickedly?
To Tinderella…
Hey Tinderella!
Yes you, Clarize. You asked for a post so I can prove that I am a writer, so here it is. So, do you believe me now? Of course not yet; I’ve only written a sentence, and anybody, even someone who’s not a writer, can do that. So, how do I convince you that I really am a writer? Well, why don’t I convince you that I am indeed the one who was talking to you instead? By doing so, I can prove that I am indeed who I say I am – a writer.
If the prince had Cinderella’s glass slippers to find out who was the beautiful belle from the ball, I, on the other hand, have the knowledge on where you found out about Tinder. English Only Please. Quite a lot of people have been telling me it’s pretty good, so I guess I’ll watch it, with a date or otherwise, like what you said.
Anyway, if Cinderella has a fairy godmother, you, Tinderella, have Fairy Tail, since you don’t like Naruto and all. Now, are you convinced that this is my blog and that I am indeed a writer? You should be. If still no, then read on. Anyway, see you on Tinder after work. Your kingdom awaits.
P.S. I would’ve written more if I knew more about you. Let’s keep chatting, okay? 😉
Blog Mischief Managed: My Boss(es) Pay(s) A Visit
Dear Miss P3 (and other coworkers/bosses if you brought any, most likely Janica),
Welcome to my mental crib, my fortress of solitude, my atelier, my – okay enough. It’s just my personal blog, which doesn’t have much aside from overly gratuitous and self-indulgent crap, so much so that any employee who’s in a corporate setup who opens this during office hours will definitely not get off the hook no matter how much he or she says it’s work-related.
First off, I would like to apologize first about the lack of any serious content. In all honesty, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my personal blog will be viewed for work-related purposes, so I guess you’re going to have to make do with whatever crap is here. But then again, it’s not crap. My thoughts and my feelings are here, and they’re definitely not crap. I value them, and that’s why I try to update this as often as possible, which hasn’t been as often recently because work in the office, my part-time, and grad school drains my mental stamina, leaving my brain with just enough juice to read manga, watch anime, and play video games. Anyway, I’m just ranting on, so don’t mind me.
Second, I do hope you’d like what’s written here. It’s probably not much as compared to the many other blogs you’ve read before, but this one is special because of sentimental reasons. However, if you have any feedback about the content or the use of the English language, do tell me so I can improve.
Sorry, should’ve used a more appropriately-sized photo. It’s just that I liked it.
Third, I would like you to know that my page sometimes doubles as a shrine, which means there are posts that mention or are dedicated to a particular shrine maiden. You know this shrine maiden quite well. Please don’t tell her, or anyone in the company who doesn’t have to read this blog, that I’ve written about her. While I could’ve chosen not to write about her instead because I knew you’ll be visiting, I just couldn’t help myself because I don’t feel like cheating myself, for I like writing about who I like. While I probably should’ve made a new blog or changed the URL so that people in the company wouldn’t find it from this point on, it would seem like a hassle to start from scratch, not to mention the fact that I don’t know how to change my URL on such a short notice. Also, the next posts are already “premade”, so I thought I’d publish them to hit two birds in one stone – assignment purposes and my personal satisfaction.
Either way, thank you for visiting. I hope you enjoy your stay. Don’t forget to leave a comment.
P.S.: This is still not a love blog. I swear I’ll work on a geek post sometime in the near future.
P.P.S.: If you do tell someone, I hope they don’t blabber.
P.P.P.S.: Thanks Miss P3. 🙂
The Joys Behind My Short Hair
“I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”
-AOA, Short Hair
Put the song on the background while you read this. There’s no better tune for this post. Or just watch the video at least once.
Just two days ago, I lost all my fighting spirit and was replaced by a chaos of hopelessness. My DoTA game, a manifestation of that turbulence in my heart that I did not wish to disclose at first. Even if I have already told Fernan and Nhel about what’s troubling me, it didn’t seem to help – my Enchantress’s Impetus still missed on Windrunner, and I hesitated whenever I fired Windrunner’s Shackleshot and doing a Powershot followup right after. It’s all because…
Seriously, at this point, it should be a no-brainer that it’s about a girl. Again. Except she’s not just another girl. She’s Joy. She’s the girl from my office that I have fancied for months now. She’s the girl I got for exchange gift who made me feel the joy of giving and not expecting anything in return. Seriously, I haven’t opened what I got for exchange gift because I’m already content with having given Joy what she wrote on her wishlist. Anyway, case and point: she’s different; she’s pretty – petite, slim, fair-skinned Filipina type with jet-black belladonna eyes and equally jet-black flowing wavy hair; and she’s got the spark, the magic, the whatever-you-call-it that I haven’t felt since college.
My hair not so long ago
I mean that – she beats Sean, Nicolette, Lin, and Ina straight up. And because she’s all of the above, I got myself some stiff competition. I know so; I’ve seen her FB, and it’s more than enough to make me feel disheartened. However, Fernan, being the friend that he is, told me that the battle is far from over.
Aside from the usual love advice, he gave me advice on how I should have my hair cut, since he came with me to Tony and Jackey. For a change, not to mention that it’s what girls like, he told me to go for short hair this time around, which is what I have exactly had in mind, until I realized that the short hair I envisioned, which is this:
is totally different from the short hair he has in and on his head. In all honesty, I had qualms of getting short hair, so I thought I’d decide when we finally get to the salon. I don’t know, I just love having long hair; it makes me see myself as a cool dude – a probable side effect of too much anime and manga – even though people nowadays prefer clean spikes or that Machoke fin,
which I thought before as uninspired – a sign of the times’ tastelessness.
When we got there, other than short or long, there was another dilemma. Regular stylist or senior stylist. Senior stylist means a Korean stylist who’s a licensed stylist from, well, Korea. Yes, South. I don’t want the same hair un-do as Kim Jong Un.
Anyway, enough of that, before this blog goes the same way of The Interview.
Obviously, I went for the senior stylist, like I always do. And for the kicker, she’s a tall and cute chinita babe with a brown bob-cut, a thin white blouse, and pink short-shorts. However, the best part wasn’t her looks that is totally my type, but her name – Joy.
The senior vs. junior stylist conundrum turned out to be the easy part. The short vs. long part, on the other hand, turned out to be heaps more difficult. Thankfully, Joy, being a senior stylist, offered her opinion and told me that it’s best to go not so short but also not so long. Since she knows better, and because she’s a Joy, I took her advice.
When I saw my long, black locks on the floor, I knew that there was no going back. At that point, the beauty of my crowning glory rested on Joy’s hands, scissors, electric razor, blower, wax, and hairspray. I’ll be honest: I enjoyed the cutting. A pretty chinita standing so close to you, her face almost touching yours – any heterosexual male would definitely have the same feeling as I did. Still, despite the sheer beauty of the one shearing, I had my reservations, since my hair was starting to look like Doctor Octopus’s at the time. However, all of them were snipped away; it only took a short diagnosing and a heartfelt question.
As she shaved off the hair at the back of my head, Joy told me that my hair underneath the surface got rolled up into tangled little hairballs. She added that it’s usually a result of stress, then she asked me if I was feeling stressed recently. I told her no; my full-time job, my part-time, and grad school, despite seemingly overwhelming on paper, weren’t really stressors. But apparently, she’s not the type who takes no for an answer.
After her question that I said no to, she then told me that she’s not just talking about work-related stress, but another kind of stress. Since she’s not very adept in both Filipino and English, she didn’t ask me through words, but through actions – she placed her flat right hand on her left chest, as though she’s singing the national anthem, except she’s making her hand flutter like a butterfly wing. She was motioning to her heart – my heart, the stressful turbulence inside of it. She knows these things; after all, she’s a licensed hairstylist all the way from South Korea, and she’s a Joy.
Yes Joy, I have Joy-related stress. And oh Joy, I’m very glad that a girl as pretty as you gets to cut my hair for the better, but how I wish Joy would stand as close to me and draw her face as close to mine the same way you did. Even if she’d give something like this:
I wouldn’t mind. Actually I would, I’m just being exaggeratedly poetic, although I’d forgive her in a snip and just go skinhead.
Anyway, let’s talk go back to the head – the hair to be exact – not the heart. When I thought Joy was done, when I thought I was going to be Otto Octavius, she blowdried my hair, put wax on her fingertips, fashioned my hair to a few raised spikes, and VOILA! What I thought would be a boring hairdo that is devoid of personality turned out to be full of attitude; all it took was the right cut, the right tools, the right products, and the right stylist with the right name. Joys sure know how to work their magic.
“Wag kang malungkot; maganda gupit mo (don’t feel down; your hair looks good)”. Fernan told me when I was about to go home. Of course Fernan, Joy made it. And yes, Joy liked it. And oh, how I wish Joy would go out with me. Which one? Well, I don’t mind either since they’re a close shave beauty-wise, but you know which one I prefer. Clue: it’s not the Korean chinita, fair-skinned, short-haired one, even though she’s more of my type.
New hair, new year, new hope. Like what K-Pop fans always say: FIGHTING!
#vain #selfie #blurred #crappyitouchcamera #onlythisonce
Holy Sheep, It’s The New Year: A Lookback At 2014 And 2015’s Resolutions
2014, one of the best years of my life, the year when I went back to school and got myself a girlfriend (which I lost just in just two months),a hopefully stable full-time writing job, and confidence in my dating abilities, is unfortunately over. However, instead of wishing that an amazing year could’ve been longer, let’s just look forward to the next one with me joining the resolution bandwagon. But before that, let’s look back at 2014’s highlights. Don’t worry; this is real quick.
Okay – I quit my job as an editorial assistant because I thought was going to get a job as an editorial assistant, but I didn’t, so I looked for another job. I got a writing job, but then its 8AM-6PM shifting + Saturdays sucked, so I turned it down for a home-based writing job where I write twenty abstracts of college-level textbooks in one day, which also sucked, so I quit it.
Because I only found nothing but crappy writing jobs, I decided to study Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing in La Salle. And while I was at it, I got myself a writing job for an SEO company. God is good indeed.
Thanks to school, I met Kei, Adrian, John, Steffi, Joyce, Carlomar, Brylle – my new school friends. Thanks to cosplay, I met Anya, my ex-girlfriend that I didn’t like in any way whatsoever; Carmina, a girl I dated for a short while and watched Big Hero 6 with while she tickled and massaged my arm; and Fatima, a cute chinita and fair-skinned girl – the type I’ve always wanted I’ve always wanted – but now pales in comparison to the one I met at my current work. And thanks to work, I met Sir Sean, Sir Kevin, Sir Vince, Sir Austin, Miss P3, Miss Avii, Ivy, Ice, Janica, Jill, Jona, Miss Denise, Sir Robin, Miss Che, Miss Aubrey, Shiro, Miss Pam, and Miss Sandy. I didn’t miss anyone, right Joy?
Anyway, thanks to all of these people, as well as everyone that is still in my life, my 2014 became a year unlike any other. Now that the acknowledgments are out of the way, let’s begin with the resolutions. Yes, that’s how we roll here; we begin in the middle of the post.
Like I said, 2014 was an awesome year, and it’s because a lot of my expectations and resolutions came into fruition. This year is basically a continuation of the last, so my 2015 resolutions are somewhat similar to the previous one. Since I was able to make a handful of last year’s resolutions come to life, I’m confident that I’ll do the same this year too. Without further ado, this year’s resolutions:
- Continue to do better in school, my full-time, and my part-time. I may be a hopeless romantic, but career always goes first. Career = self, self > the girl I currently like the most.
- Learn a new life skill. I learned a bit of photography last year, so this year driving, Nihonggo, or cooking sounds good.
- Play less MMOs. Damn, those things eat more time than DoTA 2. Maybe an hour a day is more than enough when I return to Final Fantasy XIV.
- Bulk up. Damn it, I think this one’s not going to come true because I’m neither a physical nor a disciplined person, but I really want a few muscles on my bod, so this one stays on the list.
- Try to make actually nice, non-sleazy, non-idiotic moves on Joy that would make her go out with me, even at least once. Hopefully that would lead to one beautiful thing after another, but still…
- Have my options open. Yes, Joy is the one mermaid I want to reel in with all my might, even if my ship sinks, but the sea is vast, so I can’t allow myself to get hung up over one beautiful, one-of-a-kind siren. The James Bayot of 2011 is not the James Bayot of 2014 and above.
- Get more non-geeky clothes. More buttoned shirts, less American Boulevard statement shirts.
- Find new inspiration for a new novel. The one I was working on went stale. And of course…
- Pray for others. I still have yet to master this one, because I’m kind of a greedy, selfish, bastard.
That’s pretty much it. It’s a lot simpler than last year’s, but only points one and six are a walk in the park to attain. Then again, if I had easy resolutions, then they won’t mean much. You see, a resolution is like an amazing girl. She’s going to be hard, but she’s going to be worth it. Insert Bob Marley quote here. Besides, I’m aiming for a considerable image change; it’s supposed to be considerably difficult. So, to anyone reading this (hopefully not just Fernan or some soul in SEO Hacker), Happy New Year! Whether it’s the sheep or some other animal, May God bless our fresh beginnings, endeavors we plan to undertake, and goals we aim to achieve. This is going to be a great year, I can feel it, and hopefully it’ll even top the awesome 2014.
I put the I in the UNIVERSE. I hope I can put U too. 