Wednesday, October 22, 2003
Friendster rocks!
In a span of one week, I found my college, high school and even elementary classmates.
Only, most of the testimonials made for me states that I’m always horny. Gawd, if they only knew that cobweb-making spiders practically settled in my p***y because of inactivity, they wouldn’t say that.
Sheesh.
***
Other people feels liberated when the moment they start earning their own money. Strange, I don’t feel liberated, I feel cheated. I still feel that my parents should still give me allowance (hehehehe).
Now that I’m living in the real world, I realize, I don’t like it. I don’t want to work. I want to go to Taiwan. I want to watch TV all day. I want to sleep. I want, I want, I want!
Being grown-up is a bitch. And I’m a spoiled rotten woman.
***
I experienced waking up in the middle of the night sweaty and breathing hard, asking myself if I placed the correct pasa frame for an article.
My worst nightmare is forgetting to apply the styles of the paper on my pages.
My daily dilemma is to carefully analyze if a group of words is a sentence or not.
I spend 16 hours in the office every Monday to attend the grammar seminar where a prof tortures everyone with the correct usage of linking and transitive verbs.
I have to remember that makeup is spelled as one word, without the hyphen. Editors had several FGDs before they finally settled for “privilege speech” instead of “privileged speech”.
And I receive e-mails from the publisher informing me, and the rest of my colleagues, that the word “star-struck” is spelled with a hyphen.
My job demands me to be an OC. But what happens if I don't turn into one? My head will most probably roll.
***
I was enjoying my Al Tono pizza with Jas at Segafredo’s last last Saturday when a very loud-mouthed and rude customer interrupted our feast with his drunken misdemeanor. He kept badgering the waiter/manager the whole night.
Based on his rudeness, we concluded that he was…
--A politician’s son
--A noveau riché (we both agreed that old rich are quiet and more simple. In other words, old rich has innate class and elan)
--Or he’s just a plain asshole
On the same night, same resto, we were snobbed by a girl who was handing out invitations to some party. Mind you, she gave everyone invites, well, everyone except us.
I think our sleeved shirts stood out like a sore thumb among the diners. And since the “tube” is the basis of coolness in Greenbelt, she probably immediately labeled us “uncool”.
I couldn’t care less about the party. But like what
Jason felt about the F4 concert, I wish I had the power to turn it down.
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