481 months…

11 07 2007

till my intended retirement. Or, less morbidly, 1 month till I turn 25. And then the title of this blog will be so much more appropriate. I will have another 13 months to think about what I should change the tagline to once I’m no longer 25.

I was so excited the last 11 months to be THAT much closer to 25… and now that it’s rapidly approaching, I am horrifingly anxious of it coming to pass. It feels like another wave of my personal QLC hell is coming back to haunt me… or something. What have I accomplished in the last 4 yrs 11 months? I transferred schools. I graduated in nearly record time (given the circumstances). I was successful in building my career. I’ve gained plenty of professional experience. I maintain a publicly-viewed blog that has been up for more than a year. I’ve gained some very close and special friends. I have the bestest boyfriend. I have a retirement investment. My retirement investment application wizard asked me how long I intend to use those retirement funds after retirement. It was like it was asking me, ‘when do you think you’ll croak?’

This past weekend made me feel old too. My cousin’s daughter’s 2nd birthday was held in Central Park on Saturday. She turned 2, and I’m turning 25. When I had my 2nd birthday, I fell into my cake. I still harbor some strong feelings about not being able to eat the frosting/cake off of my arm. Apparently, I was too precious of a child to do anything as low as licking cake off your hand. The day after was a massive bbq at my house. Aforementioned cousin’s daughter was also in attendance. As she was toddling around my backyard, I realized how massive the yard must have been to her. I remember how it seemed like an eternity and a week to walk across the lawn in any direction. Yet, there I was — smacking around a birdie with the boyfriend — covering previously massive distances with only a few strides.

We played for nearly 4 hrs. I have been aching, throbbing — for the last three days. I feel old. My back is stiff. My neck is stiff. My joints are sore. I crack even worse when I move. I tire easily. Incidentally, my mom was able to keep up with us — even keeping up a spirited verbal exchange with the boyfriend — for at least an hour. I remember HER as the one playing badminton for hours on end during the summer of my smaller youth.

It’s so true… years go on forever when you’re young. But those things are over seemingly in the blink of an eye the older you get. Before I know it, it will be August 11th… and I’ll be 25.


Game link – Sling

30 09 2006

I really should be asleep right now.

But I must present to you the latest ezone game — Sling

Game: Dumbolf

31 07 2006

Too addicting.  An elephant that golfs.


Social Networking for the Younger Set

27 07 2006

Or, what I did before MySpace. Actually, it was a way to kill time, procrastinating procrastination. Now I just use it as a means to play little flash games. I’m not ashamed, I’ve been a member for near 6 years. Maybe longer.


You can’t look at it and not think social networking.

These thoughts, brought to you by me — procrastinating procrastination.

Heat examination.

18 07 2006

I do have a couple of entries on deck such as Cultural Identities and this newspaper clipping I came across the other day. But why aren’t I posting? (this entry excluded)

I’m getting lazy. (score so far: laziness – 1, Corinne – 0) I have nothing to do, I admit. Except maintenance of this blog. But that requires effort. Effort, that in this heat, kills.

I’m in NY, where the heat indexes the last few days have been heat stroke/exhaustion inducing. Just typing this, and I’m breaking a sweat. Maybe I should turn on the AC. Better. But not totally. I’m now turning into an icicle. Can’t win.

Eat? Cook? Who wants to stand over a hot stove in this weather, come to think of it — who wants to stand?

I’m self-teaching myself things. In an effort to remain productive and … marketable to potential employers. I gave up teaching myself guitar a while ago. I know basic notes… and I need more guidance to other things. That brings myself up to knowing: voice, piano, guitar, recorder, xylophone (and any other instruments I was taught at school).

I’m teaching myself French. And in trying to speak (due to a CD course, my speaking is a bit more advanced than either my reading/writing/grammar — of course), I realize that I know a whole lot more languages than I give myself credit for. Unfortunately, I’m still only completely fluent in English. Not unless you’re the type that counts being able to fluently understand. So, now I can add French to my repetoire of: English, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Surigaonon (my parents’ dialect) and Tagalog. Unfortunately for me, since I am Filipino, and my parents speak exclusively their dialect around me — I cannot differentiate between Tagalog and Surigaonon. Lucky for me, Tagalog, as well as English are the official languages of the Philippines. Meaning. I can get by okay.

Some links:




Game link: Damn Birds

12 07 2006

Damn Birds.

An addictive shooter where you play an animated park statue that’s out for revenge on pooping birds.


Bounce falling kittens so they don’t smash on the street. The sound effects are cute, but can get as annoying as The Meow Meow song after a while.

Traps, Mines, and a Sheep

1 07 2006

I confess, this one owes me an hour of my life back.