New year, new life, new older shorts for the LA Lakers? In all fairness, I kinda like it on him. It's so old school. Wait, is that an omen representing his AGE? Oh no, Kobe, you're getting older. Shame, I rather like you. Well, I understand that you're in the middle of some traumatic press experiences and management blues, but one can not begin to question your greatness when it comes to basketball. I mean, sure, Tony Parker looks hotter that you, but well, you're still the first basketball player that I've KNOOOOWN...about. No one beats the 23 + 1 guy, even though you're so full of yourself, I gotta admit. Oh and by the way, the Spiderman-inspired shoes work. ;))
Now, off to the real issue when it comes to ME, ME, ME. The biggest issue hounding my subconscios is actually female hormones. I think the reason for my incredible hatred of the December 20s are very emotional (or rather, hormonal) in nature. I usually get my period every 19 or 21 days. Yeah, yeah, I know. Why's the cycle so short? Well, maybe because I'm long? My life needs balance, you know. Well, that's pretty much going off-topic. Here are things that you should bea ware of when you mess with me when it's a week before my period, odds are, you'll have me a) yelling at you, b) crying my heart out secretly, c) giving you the cold shoulder, or d) all of the above. (Note to self: Don't make decisions when you're a week away from bleeding, or your heart will bleed along with your vagina. Try me. Note to people who read my note to self: Try me is actually a dare, and you're not supposed to try.)
Think of it this way, if what guys hate most about being guys is (according to Francis anyway, I don't know about other people, haven't asked yet) having to be the one to say sorry even though you don't a really have a fault to a girl, the worst thing about being a girl is the feeling that you can't possibly have done anything wrong...all by yourself anyway. The blame should be directed to the excessive amount of estrogen in our body. We don't really want to be like this. We're actually avoiding to be like this, but we can't help it. Earlier today, around 11 am, I was in the car on the way to Megamall (to get my planner, beybeh!), and I was in tears. I couldn't help it. My nose had this tingling feeling and suddenly, my eyes were producing these...liquid that I refuse to call tears. Because I am not SAD. Neither am I excessively happy. Tears only happen when you're REALLY sad and REALLY happy. Since I am neither, I call the funny liquid Drops of Frustration. Woah, could be a nice name for a candy.
And it didn't rub off.
I bought Ice Cream from Snowstorm, and I snapped at the girl behind the counter. Damn it, I asked for the ice cream with loads of chocolate in in, the ones with BITS of chocolate and not the ones that tasted like chocolate. But what? She gave me chocolate ice cream with cherry. Where the hell did the cherry come from? It's a good thing my Mom pulled me away to breathe before I said anything. I was FRUSTRATED over nothing. Hell, ice cream can't really mean ANYTHING, right? I'm lying. I'm not frustrated over nothing. I was frustrated over SOMETHING. But that something is hardly the topic here, so what the hell. Save that for later. I was waiting outside of the department store, and I got so pissed off that the ice cream did not have chocolate bits (smart, right?), that I crushed the cup and threw it away (while mentally saying sorry to the kids who never got to taste ice cream). How childish. Hours later, I was at Shopwise, Libis, and I saw ice cream. And I was like, What. A. Stupid. Spur-of-the-moment. Reaction. What was the point?
What's the point in going on?
Simple. Because in the end, things work out just fine. You can't really have a happy life if you haven't had any sad or frustrating or confusing experience to compare it with, right? Right? Okay, I'm pretty much trying to convince myself now. Thing is, I loved how my 2007 was. Things worked out pretty well. It started in a rather emotional way, with me trying to find myself and working out priorities. Then some people came to my rescue. My friends, you guys know who you are. They grabbed me from that pile of ditch I was swimming in, washed me with lukewarm water and dressed me again. And here, I present to you, Bianca of 2007. Happy and so contented with life. I was bored part of the year, but as it progressed, I found joy in the simplest things. Even a text message can brighten up my day. A ballpen from Trisha can save my note-taking obssession. A little bite of my Mom's lasagna will make us all smile. And a tight, squeezing hug from a friend or my little brother can make my day. Friends to come over and see our games are big, big pluses too! (Shout out to Alyssa, Meryl, Drew, Paulo, Marci, Ryan, Alex, Brian, Sam, Anna Q!, Trisha, and all the other AA people who watched us!) Little things make me happy. I just wish those little things will not remain in this blessed spunkfectacular year.
I can't put anything more in words. I'm just so oddly contented, yet I feel like I lost things. Words, words. In the end, it's all we really have. The right words, or the wrong one, they're nothing but words. And we have to make do with what we have.
Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?
Out To Me
Dead
Double Dead
Y!M
anca613703@yahoo.com
Email
anca613703@yahoo.com
mariabiancaleanneruiz@yahoo.com
biancaruizmatters@yahoo.com
I Constantly Thank God For Esteban Hearts
* Books (with the S)
* Debate!
* Basketball (End Here)
* Tickets and jellybeans
* Reese's
* sofas
* Da Vinci, Monet, Progress, Progressive
* loving && much more loving
* Touch screen @-)
* Candy && Chocolate Bars && String Cheese!
Desperate For Attention
Scalpels && Knives
View My Stats
In Case Of Emergency . . .
Exit doors are to your left and to your right.
Airisa Molaer
Andy Andes
Belle Rodolfo
Bernice Cruz
Cara Chongco
Deirdre Camba
Giyay Santiago
Irene Zuniga
Isa Salazar
Lara Villaluz
Maan Nitura
Marga Ambrosio
Maxx Dompor
Meryl Marcojos
Micah Matic
Pat Aquillo-Tan
Reichelle Carlos
Trina Pineda
Veve Alastre
Blast From The Past