7 days to go

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.

Gah.  

I gotta look hot next week.

 

Finally, moving out!

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.

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

I am not ready for this question.

That L-Word

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

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!

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

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 3^rd 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.

Karma is not a bar.

2012 is the SECOND worst year of my life.  2010 being my first, but this year is certainly giving it a run for its money.

I guess as some point, I kind of deserve this.  I’m not going to say WHY because it’s too ridiculous, but at the back of my head i’m thinking: DO I NOT DESERVE TO BE HAPPY?

Fucking emo shit, I swear.  But the last 25-and-a-half years of my life i’ve spent trying to figure out what I wanted to be.  It took me that long and a huge ass mistake to finally figure out where I want my life to go, and the first step I take to making it happen, I end up with this shit.

I SWEAR.  WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

A friend said to go where you thrive the most, I’ve lowered my pride and accepted that I am just a beginner when it comes to my chosen career.  I’ve accepted that I’m a newbie, I know shit, my training isn’t good enough, but I think I have what it takes to become something great.  At 26 i’m starting from scratch, at 26, i’m eager to learn, i’m a newbie at this and what I thought would be my training period ended up blowing on my face.

It’s hard to be alone, that’s for sure.  From being the one to call the ropes, to the clueless one… that’s the most fucking demeaning thing in the world.  Now I have something to prove, without anyone telling me how to it.  I feel lost, I’m in the middle, I was supposed to be learning this, but it ended up me trying to fill a shoe that refuses to fit.

Where did I go wrong?  Jesus, what do you want me to do?  Where am I supposed to be?

I am not thriving, I have a huge pit in my stomach knowing that I don’t belong here.  I feel uneasy, I wake up nervous, every assignment leaves me weak on the knees, knowing that i’m going to tackle this alone.  I just need someone’s hand to hold for one fucking day.  I just want to ask for help, I just want to be the new, hopeless newbie who is clueless.  But I can’t.  I’ve been running this race far too long already to decide that OOOPS, I don’t know shit.

Because I KNOW SHIT.  I know a whole hell of a lot, I just need a place to unscramble all these thoughts.  I just need someone, anyone, to point me to the right direction so I know what i’m doing is not all over the place.  I’m tired of squeezing my brains without someone organizing my thoughts.  I’m tired of being the only one.  I left before because I was sick of being the only one, but now it’s happening all over again.  It seems so unfair.  Shit was dangled in front of me, then suddenly taken away when I decided to take the step.  No one’s going to old your hand through life, Sanya.  Don’t expect to be babied for the rest of your life.

Was I ever?  For every shit i’ve gotten myself into, i’ve never had anyone to pull me out.  I’ve never had anyone to tell me “oh hey, this is how you’re supposed to be doing this”, all i’ve done in my life is to trial and error everything.  For once, I decided to be humble enough to ask for help, but now it seems like it’s not going to happen.  I’m sick of my whining.  I’m sick of it.  No one’s going to hold your hand through life, Sanya.  No one.

But this is MY life.  I want to become something good, and for that to happen I just need a little help.  There, I said it.  I need a little help.  I’m good, but i’m not that good.  I’ve finally figured out what I wanted to be, and I don’t like that it’s being messed up like this.  I don’t appreciate it.  I feel cheated.  Don’t make me hate the only thing that I know how to do and enjoy doing.  Because every day I spend here, I begin to hate and hate and hate writing, and every day I spend here I begin to regret my decision.

STOP IT.  I know i’m good, don’t fucking ruin it.  Don’t fucking mold me into a mediocre piece of shit just because that’s what’s demanded from me.  I have a talent.  I figured out finally that i’m good for something.  Everyone needs someone to look up to, and it’s becoming clear to me that there’s no one in this world who will help me but myself.

I am made for bigger things.  This isn’t it.

Go to where you thrive.  I don’t have time to wait things out anymore.  If I don’t thrive, then I’m going to find another place that will let me thrive.  This is the only thing I know how to do.  If I was good in anything else, I would wait it out.  But i’ve been sitting on my ass for way to long to just wait things out.  We’re talking about MY future here, how i’m going to FEED myself.  I stay here, I’ll just be toxic.  I’LL BE TOXIC.

Don’t make me hate what I do.

Please.

I have a lot of hate again.

Maybe it’s that time of the month, where I get irritated by the smallest things, and I pick on irrelevant details.

Or maybe, I am just not fucking impressed anymore.

 

DAMMIT.

Middle Class w(h)o(r)e.

I miss LJ’s “listening to” feature.  If wordpress had that, then I would be writing “Every Word I Say”-Hanson, and imma be feelin’ fine!

I splurged on a pair of Steve Madden’s heels.  EXACTLY the same pair as Jemima’s , you can see her raving about it here.  I am such a sucker, I swear.  I’m living proof that internet marketing works.  I can’t even keep track of the stuff clicknetwork.tv has inspired me to buy.  From the Bodyshop BB tinted cream (I’m looking at you Tried and Tested!
) To Xiaxue’s secret diet regimen  (SO EXPENSIVE TOO SO NO MORE NO MORE!).  This is not a shameless plug, too.  If it was shameless, then I wouldn’t have forked a cent to buy those things.

I was waiting for my sister to finish work yesterday in Greenbelt.  My plan was to go to SM and look around for cheap stuff.  You know, the usual useless items that find themselves in my closet.  I’ve been eying a particularly funny looking bag that is puffy and soft, it’s sort of ugly, but I want it because “It can double as a pillow”, I was looking at it this weekend and I hugged it and I was in love.  Oh the stuff you can do with a puffy bag!  I wanted to buy it, but my supposedly reformed self gathered enough will power to walk away.  But OMG, it’s the cutest thing!  It’s so soft and I cam use it on the drive home, or when I’m stuck in traffic.  Imagine, a bag AND a pillow!!  The possibilities are endless!  I’m going to buy it later!!!!

So anyway, I was strolling around Greenbelt 5 when I saw Steve Madden, and they were on sale.  I remember that yeah, Jem owned and swore by a pair of Steve Madden’s, so I decided to give it a try.  ALSO, the Love Bonito Girls were also saying how comfortable they are, yet another influence from clicknetwork!  So I went in the shop and saw the beloved sign that said “45% off”.  My eyes wandered around and saw THEM.  I was going to buy the flesh coloured one, but after having the shop assistant call all the branches in the metro with no luck, I decided, right then and there, to just buy it.  It didn’t help that when I took off my shoe (FUCKING 2 YEAR OLD ALDO FLATS) the lining broke into pieces and stuck to my foot like really gross shit.  So aside from utter humiliation from my gross feet, and the fact that they had no stock on these shoes that made my look tall and lifted my ass to the high heavens, I really had no choice but to plunk down my credit card and have her swipe it before I could change my mind.  Hey, at least I got P1,500 off.  Yeah, I should repeat that over and over.

To add insult to injury, my right foot is smaller than my left, so I had to go to Beauty Bar (I was too lazy to look for Watsons, and I was on a spending roll anyway) and buy those transparent gel cushion things, and FUCK THAT they are so expensive (but I bought them anyway, they were lavender scented! LAVENDER!).  To make myself feel better, I used a newly opened tester foe lip exfoliation and used it on MY WHOLE MOUTH.  So I have soft lips now.

Aside from that, this weekend, I wasn’t able to go shopping because of the rain.  I had a whole list of stuff to buy, like, a clipboard, a new case and screen protector for my Ipod (justified, i’ve been using the same one for 2 years already) and I needed to pick up two sets of ceramic cups (the kind they use in Kopitiams).  So now I spent all my money on A PAIR OF HEELS, and I gave all my cash to my boyfriend to deposit on my Singaporean bank account, I have absolutely no money to buy the stuff I was supposed to buy.
Oh well, that’s what credit cards are for!