Ah-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi! Ah-looooo-ha! *jumps up in the air and does a backflip* Yeah, baby. No classes tomorrow, and yesterday, and the day before. And oh yeah, I almost forgot, today. Do you know why I haven't been posting? Well, our Quarterly Tests arrived. *dandandandan* Well, at least they were supposed to, but then the rains arrived first, and the Tests (yeah, with a capital T) were delayed. Too bad. It wasn't too awful last Wednesday. We weren't sent home when classes were suspended, but it was okay. We had the mass (which was very long, even in my standards--and I'm the girl who can stand really long mass celebrations.) with the Koreanito priest. *Cough?* Then we had the community day. Ay hindi, bago pala yun, recess, we were given ice creams! They were given ice creams. Naubusan ako. Boo-hoo. Man. Next year, I'm gonna be fast and I'm gonna get my share of ice cream! Ha! Then the community day. Lots of picture taking, lots of presentations, and lots of rain. You know, for some particularly weird reason, the rain doesn't make me feel gloomy, it actually cheers me up. Well.

Oh, hey. I have one fear conquered. Or is it supposed to be "had"? Since technically, it was conquered last Tuesday, but then again, it still is conquered today? Oh whatever. What's the conquered fear? The fear of the stove people! I actually managed to go near the stove--and produce something relatively edible. I cooked pasta, men! I followed 3 seperate recipes, so that makes my recipe an original. It does look like gravy--point taken. But still! It tastes like pasta. Cheer with me y'all!

But I didn't go near it again ever since.

I studied, if you might want to know. I slept, then I studied, then I ate. I ate too much I think I'm going to gain SO. MUCH. WEIGHT. All of it goes to my arms, of course. I believe that in the 13 pounds that I gained since last summer, 5 went to my left arm, 5 went to my right arm, 2 went to my bum (THANK YOU LORD) and 1 went to my stomach. What the hell? I used to not have humongous arms. Whatever. I'm not eating until I feel like I'm passing out. I know it's not proper, but I survive that.

Oh, I'm reading a self-help book: Battlefield of the Mind for Teens by Joyce Meyer. Is she realated to John Meyer. Waley, joke lang. Sorry, sorry. Haha! Anyway, it's actually pretty nice, there are a lot of things that makes me nod and knot my brows at the same time. I'll give you a clip:

Satan is a liar. Jesus called him "the father of lies and of all that is false" (John 8:44). Here are some of his deceptive lines, which he'll use as he tries to control your mind. How many of them have you heard in one form or the other?(Wait, may naamoy akong hindi maganda, I can smell foul foot odor, ew? Where'd that come frome, anyway, moving on...)

-You don't need to listen to your parents, your pastor, your youth leaders, and all thouse other people who try to tell you how to live. I mean, look at 'em, those incompetent hypocrites. Look at all their flawes and inconsistencies. This is your life. Live it your way. (Whoops, I've heard--and said this a thousand times, man.)

-Drinking, drugs, and sex won't really hurt you. All of those horror stories won't happen to you. It's just a big scare tactic. Adults just don't want you to have any fun--even if they had plenty when they were your age. They just want to control you. (Same goes for parents preventing you from having boyfriends/girlfriends. And for the parents who don't want you to go out. THe last two sentences have dawned upon me in more times that I can count, and this well, struck me like a bullet shot from telescoped gun. Wait, what? Heh. But the drinking, drugs and sex? Nah, not my area of expertise.)

-Do you really believe in "the devil"? Some red-skinned bald dude with a pointy tail and a pitch fork? An intelligent person like you? Get real--that's a myth. There is no devil, and there is no hell. And, by the way, there is no God or heaven, either. "Right now" is all there is. So, get yours while you can. (Wait a minute. FYI! Since 2 years ago, I have resolved that bald guys are hot. And no one dare contradict! VERY few people can actually pull it off, and if you can, then woah. *thump!* Okay, moving on. Well, that's a very wonderful technique. Squeezing in the "There is no God" part as a "by the way" statement. Like it's not important? Fuck you, devil. His greatest tactic and mission: Make us believe that he doesn't exist. And he has all eternity to pester us, man.)

-Come one, admit it: You have doubs about God all the time. If God was real, why would He allow these doubts to creep up inside your head? (Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend! if you ever took time to listen to Ms. Clarete, you'll know why. So listen while you've got the chance. I KNOW she's malabo sometimes, but if you listen, she'll actually make sense.)

-If there was a God who cared, would you feel as lonely as you do, as overwhelmed by life as you do, as powerless to change things?

Well, that's that. And for APA's sake, it's page 8, paragraph 2. I read that book for one reason and one reason alone: My sister told me she told my Mom who's angry at me that I read it and she advised me to read it or else. Ha! Then...now, I have a better reason. I actually like it. I never, in my entire life, imagined myself to be someone reading a self-help book. I mean, hel-lo? But well, I actually enjoyed it. I chose the book over Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, It Girl: Reckless, Hardy Boys 41 or 42 (Oo na, geeky to read it but I absolutely adore it--ever since I was in Grade 3! Heh.), Emma and Pride and Prejudice. That's how much interest the book sucked out of me. Why don't you try reading it?

Before I go, I'll have to say this. For all the make-up whores out there, change you mascare every month and your sponges every week. Okay? Thanks. That's what Jay Manuel said, I never knew that. But oh well. My mascara is 6 months old, FYI. And my sponge? Well, I don't really use a sponge. I like the liquid foundation better. But I don't use it. I use the translucent-bronzer-whatever from L'oreal. And speaking of whores, random information: I'm a ketchup/barbecue sauce/any other dense sauce-whore. Anyway, I guess I'm off.

PS. The little cartoon drawing of a devil is cute, but the old devil? No, man. Ew?

PPS. For future references. The P came yesterday. Okay, B? Happy. Mood swing.