Reason for cancellation

6 04 2007

An IM to a friend:

‘Birthday party cancelled due to lack of sex.’

‘Wait! GUESTS. Crap.’


Foodie post!

22 03 2007

Because I am woefully inadequate at writing one myself. I leave it to Miss Beancurd to provide all the mouthwatering details.

Guiradelco. A little place with excellent food that you wouldn’t know was there unless you’ve been there before.

We speak in codes

12 02 2007





“addisex! Ahahha… did you just see what she did?!”

“dark and twisty…”

“cheery resident.. sheeit”

“soft bailey!”

This is the normal conversation between myself and Miss Beancurd. Usually at its most energetic on Thursday nights, during Grey’s Anatomy.

We are 24 and 22 — but for one hour a week — we type like tweens. That’s my sad confession for the day.


7 02 2007

A friend once told me that after the weaning days (from breastfeeding) the human body starts becoming lactose intolerant.

This doesn’t sit well with me… not only because I love me lots of dairy, but I was a formula baby up till my 4th birthday. Like literally, I woke up, I was 4 years old – and suddenly I could drink milk no problem. Incidentally, later that day, I remember walking up to my refrigerator, and realizing – in utter horror – that all my baby bottles filled with the soy formula goodness have just up and disappeared. Baby Bottles. GONE. From The Refrigerator. It was so traumatizing, I can feel myself fill up with anxiety just thinking about it now. It’s like waking up one morning, I’m 24 years old, and the internet never existed.


Anyway, after my 4th birthday, I continued on happily ingesting and imbibing everything and anything dairy. Not just cow milk, but caribou milk (I’m Filipino, remember?), goat milk, sheep milk (the latter two are from a couple of European excursions I took in my youth). I was totally that 4-glasses-of-milk-a-day kid.

Then I went off to boarding school, and suddenly I was that 6-glasses-of-soda-mainly-root-beer-a-day kid. Dairy intake was in the form of cheese and ice cream – mostly.

And now I find myself getting sick to my stomach a few hours after eating ice cream or cheese or drinking a cup of milk. Sick in my stomach results in gas. And I’m not talking your belching kind.

It’s three weeks, kids. He’s still not letting me fart.

He’s just not that into you pt 1

30 01 2007

I’m going to start reading ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’ soon. I’ll be making comparisons between it, my past romantic history, and my life, currently. Should be interesting conversation going on there.

Being a token

23 01 2007

I had an interesting conversation with a friend the other day. She mentioned to me that I had always been her commitment and relationship-phobic friend. Then out of nowhere, I’m taken.

In fact, I’d always been the comfortably single friend. The token single female friend, as it were. Now, all of a sudden — I am also the taken girl. To be honest, it’s throwing a wrench in my comfortable life routine too.

Of course, I’m not complaining… it’s just strange.

Cheers to the strategic nice guy that snagged me. Thus disproving ‘Embrace the Unknown’s theory that bad boys are desirable. They are desirable, perhaps in one or a few capacities. Beyond that — I like my nice guy just fine, thanks.


28 12 2006

Somewhere in the discussion in Psych of Attraction, the subject of value came up. Someone stated survival and replication value (makes it sound so businessy, doesn’t it?). What about the quest to seek value in our lives (post-college age)… whether it be short term or long term?

Is it one’s career? Success? Social value? Biological value (ties into replication)?

Personally, I seek success over anything else in the short term. I do not need a man to complete this. Friends are also of value to me, as is my sanity (ha). Career success, financial success… sure, if/when I get married (which is not something at the forefront of my mind) — financial success of the man does play a part. But it’s not my focus right now.

I go for personal independence first and foremost. Long term is an issue, but not as pressing as the short.