7 days to go

30 Aug

Aside from the daily JO’s and meetings, I have been helping out in the planning for our company’s 35th Anniversary.  Okay, i’m not exactly helping out in the planning, but i’ve been volunteering left and right to do the AVP and practice for the dancing portion of the program.  Both things I suck at, but hey, it’s fun (?), I get to learn a lot as well as meet  interesting people.

We’re 7 days away from the actual event, and I am still yet to fit into my dress.  Come to think of it, I don’t even have shoes for the event yet.  I think it’s time to start panicking.

This is my life right now.  Trying to keep busy, being extremely shallow and caring about useless things.


I gotta look hot next week.



Finally, moving out!

19 Aug

I just bought a domain, and I have no clue how to go about it.  Thank God Helga is smart enough to figure it out for me.

Going to start writing the copy for the banner and the “about me” section.  


All-nighter tiredness.

13 Jun

“Hey Sanya! Who’s your favorite Superman?”

I am not ready for this question.

That L-Word

27 May

I hate the rain.

Some people like rain.  I don’t.  Raining means everything will be wet and muddy.  It means that the skies will be dark and everything will be gloomy.

This weekend, it rained.  It did not make me feel better in any way.

So I got out of the house for a quick drive.  Thought I could catch cute college guys in the nearby café, but ended up being surrounded by couples (UGH).  Which got me thinking, and thinking some more, making my weekend all the more depressing.

Fuck love.  Seriously.  I’m glad in works for some people.   If you’re in love and in a perfect relationship…good for you.  Congratulations.  I hope you don’t piss each other off halfway and feel like you’re just in it because you can’t do any better.

Because, in reality, YOU CAN’T.  That is the best you can do.  If you’re thinking that there’s someone out there who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated (you know, like you’re the Ventolin to their asthma).  If you think that there’s someone who will understand you and all your quirks.  Someone who will love you for who you are… HAHAHAHA I hate to break this to you, but no.  No one else will put up with you but the person you are with RIGHT NOW.

So toughen up.  Take all the shit they give you.  Shouting match everyday?  Take it.  Hates holding you hand? Accept it.  Makes fun of you and your passions?  Love them anyway.

Because you’re probably just as bad as they are, and hey.  They’re still there.  Annoying as fuck, but they’re still there.  And they still love you.

So hang on to your bitches, people.  Chances are, you won’t find anyone else.

My Girl-Girl-friends

13 May

For some reason, the whole break-up gave me a sense of entitlement to be angry and immature.  It gave me the right to listen to angry songs because now I can relate.  Being miserable is making me happy.  It doesn’t make any sense, but I haven’t been making much sense lately.  But if it’s helping me cope, then I’ll take it.

I’m happier now.  I’m laughing so much more and really meaning it.  I’m getting to know myself better; irrational, spontaneous (LIE!!!) and nonsensical most of the time.  But my friends, my dear, dear, friends, accept me for all the bullshit I spit out.

I mean, these people let my dog vomit on them.  That’s amazing.   They lovingly wiped his drooling mouth with my underwear (unused) without bitching.  THAT’S LOVE.

They don’t get mad at me when I get lost in Panadacan or Paco or whatever ghetto Manila street we end up in. 

They listen to me rant about the most immature things and let me sing Wicked songs at the top of my lungs without telling me to shut up.  They tolerate my torpe-ness to the guys they (attempt) to set up with me because I’ve got no game.

So Helga, Triccie and Sam, this one’s for you girls

 I love you!

Hello, Happy Hanson Day!

7 May

So it was yesterday.  But I needed a title for this thing while I wait for my Dad to pick me up.

Since i’ve been following the Secret religiously, and i’m on this “positivity” high, I decided, that for once, I will write about happy things!  Also, I read my LJ and it tired me out.  Like literally.  I felt like someone was screaming at me for a good hour while I read my exploits back i college.

Or maybe it’s the constant talk about my thesis.  And the budding romance that you need to read between the lines for.

Which I can honestly say is hilarious at best.  I don’t feel sad or bad about it all.  It’s a learning experience and at 20, I can chalk it up to ~young love~ (except for the other one from Feb 2005 down, that one was just plain disgusting, i’m not singing any songs or writing about any of that shit, and you can tell because all I talked about was being single and not lamenting what we had).

Anyway, I am never going back to that.  

I’m pretty happy where I am now.  I like the freedom.  I like meeting new and exciting people.  I like that I can stay until late at work without having to worry about anyone’s schedule or dates.

Like, I genuinely enjoy pretend-hitting on my office “crush”.  No guilt about it all.  At least I get to practice my spit game on him. 

I enjoy this new relationship I am having with alcohol.  And how my friends are training me to be able to stay up late.  How they’re trying to “support” me through this all with constant night lakads and tolerating my sudden bursts of immaturity (while I tolerate theirs!)

On Sunday we’re going to have a picnic.  Tomorrow I’m going to panic-buy booze before the alcohol ban.

I’m beginning to let go of my “I want everything yesterday”, my feeling of entitlement and insecurities.  Hell, today i’m wearing crazy printed tights with hearts and bears.  I look like a toddler and I don’t give a flying fuck.

I am genuinely a better person and It feels wonderful.  I feel like dancing to 90’s songs but i’m too lazy to get up.

I even think that I look good.  Considering that I dropped 10lbs from not eating for 2 months.  That red lipstick makes me look like a pin-up girl.  I’m beginning to come to terms with the fact that my hair will take at least two years to grow back.  That I need to buy this bra in all colours because it makes my boobs look uh-mazing.  Oh, my favorite part of being single?

I can now devote all my love and my time to Hanson.

Happy Hanson Day Motherfuckers!


Single Girl Blues

26 Apr

DISCLAIMER: Humor me.  This is going to be a painful, angry, ranty post.  I also took a shot of GSM from the tatay bottle.  IT’S MY BLOG AND IF I WANNA BE GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT AND MAKE MY SPELLING SUCK I CAN OKAY.

So, this is being single.

It’s not that bad.  I get to to hang out with friends.  I get to work.  The thought of someone out there, someone shiny and new is exciting.  The search for that someone shiny and new is something I am not looking forward to.

That’s when it gets a little bit scary. Thinking of putting my best foot forward tires me out.  I don’t have the patience to get to know someone new.  It’s exhausting.  Imagine the process of the first date.  I’d have to wear something relatively decent.  Then I have to put make-up on, decide if I should wear contacts or glasses.  After that, I would need to bleach my teeth, fix my stupid short hair and spend an hour practicing my pretend smile in front of a mirror.

 And that’s just before the date.

Then what?  I look for the place.  Sit down, smile and engage in conversation.  Now how to impress this dude is another challenge in itself.  Do I ramble on about what I do?  Do I tell him about the dumb stuff I like doing?  Do I move it up a notch by getting current events (which I know nothing of by the way) all the while thinking, I’m so sleepy, I want to go home, Is my mascara running? OR SOME SHIT LIKE THAT.

 Everyone is thinking, hey Saaaaaawnya, why not just be yourself?

Well everyone, it’s because Sanya Coo is not exactly first date material.   I AM NOT SMART, I JUST KNOW ENOUGH TO GET BY.  The rest of my brilliance comes after the first date (pun NOT INTENDED OKAY) The best of Sanya Coo is like, third date material (no I’m not talking about sex).  If you’re interested, and I’m remotely interested, you will have the best time of your life.  From food walks, the zoo to surprise overseas trips (oh yeah, you better believe it.  I do stupid things when I bored), life with me (even as a friend!) will never be boring.  “Ask any of my exes” is a bit crass to say, but hey.  It’s true.

Like, right now.  I am highly bored.  I’m looking at my office and half of my officemates are in meetings or just slacking off.   Sanya 3rd date material is thinking.

  1. I will text imaginary date what time he gets out of work.
  2. Worry about where I’m going to leave my car.
  3. Make  stupid excuse on why I’m going to be away for the weekend to my mom.
  4. Pick up imaginary date (or he picks me up, either way is fine) and go straight to NAIA 3. (oh shit, pick up passport pala muna)
  5. See if there are any tickets to HCM left.
  6. Fly to HCM
  7. Spend the weekend eating Banh Mi wearing the same clothes and chugging down Vietnamese Coffee.

OR invite him to that Hipster thing I have with my friends tonight and he can watch me get drunk after two bottles of beer.  Then he will realize that there’s not much difference between the drunk me to the un-drunk me.  Same lame jokes.  Same stupid rants.  Same non-sequiturs.  “I was an OFW”, “My Dad won’t pay for my credit card bill”, “I don’t know what i’m doing with my li—ife, but damn you’re cute” (assuming that I wouldn’t keep seeing him if HE UGLY.  But i’m not picky, I’m not simple girl type either).  Then I will show my crazy friends a meme on my phone (“WHY DO YOU HAVE MEMES ON YOUR PHONE?!?!”) then i’ll attempt to talk like a redneck, all ghetto, and maybe a little bit of that Australian accent I have carefully hidden from everyone.

And he will look at me and think WHAT THE HELL GUUURL GIT YOSELF TOGETHER!

Or if he has a meeting the next day, or we’re just too poor that day.  I don’t mind going to the Zoo.  I’ve always wanted to go to the Zoo…drunk (I really really like beer).  Or go to Dong Bei in Chinatown for some XLBs and legit mochi, not those pacute ones that you get from “bazaars”.  Or maybe drive to the beach because I feel like going to the beach for once in my life.  Or go PX goods shopping in Subic even if it kinda sucks there.  Or go some artsy vintage place and pretend to know about the struggles of being areal artist.  Or go to a café and discuss shallow things like Hanson, Honey Boo Boo and clothes.

Or maybe, he’ll take the reigns and take me somewhere exotic, exciting, fun and stupid at the same time.

Anyway.  Whatever.  This blog post is just pissing me off.  Here’s a picture of me during my chick days in a slutty outfit.  I guess since i’m single, I might as well bring out the goods.


That’s not the only costume I have, too.