| Useless Rant (No Need To Read) |
[Feb. 4th, 2009|10:11 pm] |
Just came home from the park, where I spent about two hours, eating a Vanilla Almond biscotti and sipping an iced white mocha from Starbucks, which I paid for with my last 200 pesos. Ever heard the saying "Live like there's no tomorrow"? If I did just that, I'd be broke by sundown, just like I am right now. And what led to such an extravagant park experience? Well, nothing like an iced mocha and a hankie to blow off some steam. I threw away half of the biscotti. It was hard as rock and threatened the safety of my retainers. I spent some time in the park, to cool off, talked to some people via cellphone, and even as I lie on my bed, I'm still thinking about how my day just about reduced me to a blubbering idiot.
My day started okay, with me sleeping most of the morning away. I woke up at about eleven, took a long shower, and after getting dressed, headed out to the kitchen to make myself some brunch. I was going to make myself some coffee, when, lo and behold, I couldn't even find the coffee canister. Right then and there, I already felt like some bumbling idiot, who may have had a memory lapse as to where I put the coffee jar. It was either that, or someone stole my coffee. Neither idea sat well with me, and since I'm not typically a morning person, I already felt like a grouch during the first of my waking hours. After brunch, I headed off to driving school, where five hours of driving awaited. Oh goody.
The first few hours wasn't that bad, especially given the fact that I had to learn how to drive on EDSA, which is a 2 to 4-lane highway at best, and a 4 to 6-lane highway at worst. One way. That's okay, though. A highway, I could handle. I already did okay during my first day, yesterday, even though the engine sputtered and died a couple of times en route to MoA and Makati. Today was basically a review. The first few hours were okay. I just had to review driving in a straight line, changing lanes, shifting gears, parking, that sort of stuff. But by the time the 3rd hour rolled in, I was already feeling tired and cranky, my left leg was feeling a bit strained, and the traffic got worse, since it was already rush hour. As a result, I wasn't as alert as I was earlier, and given the amount of cars on the road, I was more stressed and panicky. I did okay in shifting down-gear earlier, when we basically practiced on deserted backroads. But my waterloo was still re-starting after a full stop. My engine kept dying because I couldn't quite get the feel of the gas pedal, and how much pressure I should put on it before I release the clutch. After practicing that a bit, I FINALLY got the hang of it, and so we were off once again to the busier streets. This is where it got a lot harder.
In my perfect world, it should be illegal to honk your horn at a student driver. Really. All it accomplishes is to make one feel flustered, and such a feeling leads to messing up whatever skills one has just recently acquired. And it should be a crime to cut in front of a student driver. I mean, I'm not even used to checking my side mirrors yet, since it's only my what, 7th hour of driving? I swear, I lost my peripheral vision, since I was concentrating on staying on my lane and a damned taxi cuts in front of me. I couldn't very well swerve to the left, since I might plow into a damned bus. What other choice do I have but to step on the brakes? And yes, to a seasoned driver, it would be a basic move to step on the clutch as well, but as a beginner, I panicked and stomped on the brake pedal alone. The result? My engine died again. And my instructor gives an exasperated sigh.
In my perfect world, drivers who don't follow traffic rules would be seriously fined. Like those who switch lanes without signaling, and those who overtake on the right, with inches to spare before they would graze the paint off my car. And rule-abiding drivers would give student drivers a wide berth, so as not to add to the poor soul's stress. It's stressful enough to try to get the hang of things inside the car. I shouldn't have to deal with buses coming at me from both sides, trying to squish my car. And in my opinion, there's a reason for creating bus lanes and PUV lanes. It's to make picking up and dropping off passengers safer and easier. I mean, what the hell is up with PUV's stopping in the middle of a busy highway, only to swerve to the right to pick up a passenger, and then swerve back to merge into your lane once again? If I had a hundred bucks for every time I swore mentally, my wallet would be overflowing. And if my driving instructor possessed telepathic powers, he'd be itching to scrub my brain with soap and water. My profanity level usually ranges only from sh*t and a** and d*mn, but today, I reached full f*ck stage. I couldn't help it. My nerves were shot, not only for having to deal with traffic, but with the driving instructor as well.
I get the fact that when you drive with a person who has only spent a few hours behind the wheel, you're putting your life in your hands. But when you're paid to teach that person, I believe that you should do your best to not make the person feel like the world's biggest imbecile and not show the said person that it may be more pleasurable to bang your head against the dashboard in frustration. I don't know, maybe I really am a slow learner when it comes to driving, and it's bad enough that I feel that way, but to be treated as a moron? That just sucks. Really. After three or four hours on the road, it gets tiring, and I don't know about others, but I feel less alert when I'm tired, and more panicky, since it was already rush hour and more and more cars were appearing on the road. And the engine kept shutting off, and I got more frustrated, and the instructor got more exasperated, so I became even more flustered, so the engine kept dying, and I felt like tearing my hair out, and the instructor looked like he wanted to hang himself. And such was the viscious cycle that made up the last two hours.
I hate feeling like an idiot. I really do. And I hate it even more when people actually treat me like an idiot. And the more pressured I become to prove them wrong, the worse I get. It just sucks. Or blows. Why do those two expressions mean the same thing anyway?
Today basically sucked. I couldn't find my morning coffee, my eyes are still swollen from the other night's allergy attack, I feel like moron for not getting the hang of driving, I'm broke, there's no one to talk to at home, and I couldn't even hug my dog because she's not here. Hmph. I'm getting a migraine. Oh well. A friend once said that people only blog when they're ranting, and there are only a few entries made when people are happy. In my case, that's mostly true. Thus, another one of my rants makes its way through cyberspace. And I think I feel better now.Goodnight. |
|
|
| Desperate Housewife(?) Post 0001 |
[Jan. 30th, 2009|04:28 pm] |
Ahhh, some downtime. I spent the better part of the afternoon scrubbing the kitchen counter with a toothbrush and all-purpose cleaner. Why the toothbrush? Well, I'm reserving the bigger utility brush for the bathroom, once the water finally starts gushing through the pipes. And because good ol' trusty zonrox didn't help much, neither did the tile cleaner, aside from maybe giving me a high.
In my opinion, tiles should come with a disclaimer. Something like Warning: will cause hardship in a few years, or Tiles are easy to clean, spaces in between are not. That sort of stuff. I think I may have acquired Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from scrubbing between those itsy bitsy spaces. I've been eyeing them for weeks now, and when I first moved in, I sprayed it with zonrox. A week or so later, I sprayed it with some tile cleaner. And yes, the tiles became squeaky, sparkly clean, but the grout did not. Hmph. So finally, when I ran out of money to buy cleaning implements and everything else, like food and clothes, I stayed home and decided to do a little cleaning. Okay, a lot of cleaning. I tackled the stove, the counters, did the laundry, and obsessive-compulsively did the dishes. I now have a grease-free stove, dustless counters, fragrant clothes and a well-stacked dish rack. But alas, those damned tiles have yet to be tamed. Don't get me wrong, they look really clean right now. Except for those ugly splotches between the tiles that refuse to come off, even with zonrox, tile cleaner and the handy dandy toothbrush. I'm contemplating the merits of using muriatic acid vs. the necessity of keeping the skin on my hands right where they are. The hands win, of course.
In the course of repetitively scrubbing between the tiles, I have decided that when I get a house of my own, I will not let a single tile in. My bathroom and kitchen, and maybe the rest of the house, will be made of marble. I'll have someone bulldoze a few mountains, just so I can have my marble floors and counters installed. Imagine the beauty of hard, shiny rock, with absolutely no space in between slabs. Ah yes, I could easily get the dust, grime or whatever unholy stain out, with just a swipe of a rag. Easy enough to do. Easier even, if I have enough money to hire myself a couple of housekeepers. Then again, if I have enough money for a marble house, I sure as hell have enough money to spare for housekeepers. Plus, marble is a great self-defense tool as well. If any intruders manage to slip through my Siberian Huskies, I could just clothesline them and smash their heads against the floor. Voila, concussed unconscious person. And the bloodstains would be easy to get out too.
Since I'm already discussing the benefits of having a marble house, I could easily add another one, simply to convince myself that the benefits do outweigh the cost. First, there's the easy upkeep, second is that it acts as a security system, and the third? Well, when I'm too old to move around, and my husband dies ahead of me, and all my kids have abandoned me in favor of a richer life, then I could just hire a caretaker. For both me and my house. All I would do is lounge in bed, laze around with dvds (or whatever would replace them in the next few decades, say maybe holographic movies). So there I would lie, watching reruns of Gossip Girl and One Tree Hill and whatever shows that have hot guys in it, regardless of plotlines. I'd be too senile to understand anyway. Anyway, there I will be, lazing about in my King-sized water bed, with a callbell at my side and trusty servants at my beck and call. I'll just lay there, in my own version of paradise and await my death. And when I die, my family could just seal me in and close off my marble house, which would then be my mausoleum. Just as other cultures give their dead the fare to cross the River Styx, or food, clothing, and treasure to accompany them to their next life, I, too, would have all the comforts I have acquired in my spoiled, bratty existence.
Oh well... I suppose the fumes of the tile cleaner must have messed up my brain after all. |
|
|
| Smellvile |
[Jan. 30th, 2009|04:11 pm] |
I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!
Sorry, I've been too lazy, I've been meaning to catch up, but... yeah, still lazy. But I wanna let you guys know that I MISS YOU!!!!
So... forgive me? Please? ^_^ |
|
|
| I AM ALIVE!!! |
[Mar. 27th, 2007|10:23 pm] |
Ladies and Gentlemen (if any), I, the supercalifragelisticexpialidocious callipygian bodacious Cesbomb, am alive! *insert evil cackle here*
Oh wow... suddenly, this feels so alien. Me updating eljay, I mean. It's been quite a while, about three months? Almost four months, I guess. Yes, I've been lazy busy. ^_____^
So, here's what I've been up to the past few months:
( January --- )
( February --- )
( March --- )
~~~~~~~~~~~
And just coz it's been a long time since I've posted stuff like these:
( Read more... ) ~~~~~~~~~
That's all for today! I miss you guys sooooooooooo much!!! Thanks to everyone who remembered my birthday. ^_^ Ren, see you at my birthday party!!! (Wahehe... that made us sound like we're eight years old. ^_^) |
|
|
| Pic Spam |
[Dec. 3rd, 2006|06:14 pm] |
Wahah! Just spamming eljay with my face pictures from the Ateneo Fiesta, just as I promised sY-chan.
( Get ready to <s>barf</s> enjoy! )
Kitty, btw, we went against CLA for the championship. Uhm... Grade School kinda gave us a better fight. CLA's handling was all over the place, and they didn't have any spikers, unlike Grade School, on both counts. Unfortunately, my team was overconfident/tense/pressured(probably because I commanded them to win in three sets during the best-of-five game. Haha!) and so, due to our deluge of errors, it was a close fight. Haha! Miss yah!
Anyway, The College of Nursing once again won as Over-all Champion for the Ateneo Fiesta, despite the handicapping and the new tally system. We also won as Sports Champions and Non-sport Events Champions, much to the dismay and disgust of the other colleges. Yey! |
|
|
| Tired. |
[Nov. 24th, 2006|04:51 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | sore | ] | Hooboy... just got home from school. I haven't been to any of my classes in a week, because of volleyball practice for the upcoming Ateneo Fiesta (which starts tomorrow, by the way). It's a week-long celebration, with lots of sports, games, music, food, and food. I was planning to join volleyball, and either debate or basketball this year, unfortunately, the COllege of Nursing is restricted to having one event per student, unlike the past year's one sport, one non-sport for every student. And since I'm this year's volleyball captain for the Nursing team, I obviously can't join any other event. And so I've spent most of the week practicing with my team. I'm worried. Gyaaah. And pressured. We've been volleyball champs the past two years, and most of my team from last year already graduated, and now, I have a lot of new players, some of whom aren't that good, compared to the reserves of last year. WE NEED TO WIN. I hate losing. I'm tired. This entry seems disjointed. Too tired and too lazy to edit. Maybe I'll look back on this entry someday and laugh at my incoherence. Wah. Goodnight. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Oct. 16th, 2006|12:14 am] |
GYAAAAH! This was gonna start out as a happy post, but I redid my nails, and they look horrible, and I'm not too happy anymore. Tooopid nails. I should learn how to do them myself so I won't go broke everytime I wanna feel girly. And no, it's NOT kaartehan *glares at someone*
Anyway, it's the end of the sem, and I just thought I'd pic-spam some of the stuff I found at various locations in the city.
( Insanity )
That's it for tonight. It's so damn difficult to type with semi-wet nail polish. Dammit! |
|
|
| Nice day for a rant. |
[Sep. 18th, 2006|07:34 pm] |
|
Apparently, I'm fat. According to Filipina standards, I'm overweight, all 5'1'' and 128 pounds of me. And even if I don't see myself as fat, everyone I encounter has made it their personal obligation to tell me that I look about the same as a baby hippo. Remind me again why it's unfortunate to have a bit of curves and adipose on one's body? I weigh a hundred and twenty-eight friggin' pounds, nowhere near enough to be considered as a medical emergency. I shouldn't let myself be affected with all the negative comments I've been getting the past few weeks, but it just sucks when I meet a person I haven't seen in three months or so, and the first thing that comes out of her mouth is, "Wow, you're fat!" Not, "Wow, you're fatter," but FAT. It takes every ounce of self-control to not reply with, "Good gawd, you're still ugly!" Ah well. Maybe one day, I'll lose enough self-control and buy that shirt Ren and I saw in Manila that says "Skinny People Suck." I'd wear it to school, too, just like how I wear my "I See Dumb People" shirt. |
|
|
| Housewife Post #01 |
[Jun. 23rd, 2006|09:37 pm] |
Tonight, I experimented with chicken. Not in the usual dismember-slash-mutilate psycho way, but in the cut-and-garnish way. I cooked.
Ahehe, I think I was somewhat successful in my experiment, since my brother ate it without complaints. Now, all I have to do is to pray that we won't have adverse reactions, like difficulty in breathing or sprouting wings.
Anyway, for anyone interested in trying out my recipe for Chicken Thingy Omelette, here's what you need:
1/2 kilo chicken breast chicken cube 1 onion, medium-sized around 6 cloves of garlic pepper salt 4 eggs cornstarch
What to do:
1. Boil chicken for 10-15 minutes or so. Add salt and chicken cube while boiling. (Yeah, yeah, cooking chicken with chicken cubes is redundant, but I thought it would add to the taste.) 2. Chop onion and garlic, then sprinkle some salt on it. It helps bring out the taste. 3. Beat 4 eggs together, add a little salt, and a little pepper. Depends on your preference, really, since I don't really measure how much crap I put in. 4. After boiling the chicken, allow it to cool down, then shred it into itsy bitsy pieces. Add the chicken, onion, and garlic to the eggs, and mix. Add some cornstarch, the quantity depends on how thick you want your mixture to be. 5. Fry! 6. The first omelette was my experiment. I tasted it after frying to find out what it lacked. Add salt/pepper to taste.
And that's about it!
Wehehe... post #01 as a housewife. Without a husband, though. Ah, life sucks sometimes. |
|
|
| Nyaaaaaa~ |
[Jun. 4th, 2006|07:13 pm] |
I am so dead. I just got my assignment from the Beacon Newsmagazine. Two assignments, actually. Both of which are focused on the negative sides of the College of Nursing: low passing rate in board exams, and grade miscalculation.
Oy vey. Here I thought my blacklisted status in my college couldn't get any worse, but then along come the assignments. The editor is out to get me. (KITTY! YOU SHOULD BE HERE FOR MORAL SUPPORT, BIYATCH!!! THE WICKED WITCH IS RUINING MY LIFE!!!)
I suppose I could hand in my shifter's forms now. After all, after these articles get published, I might as well be persona non grata in the College of Nursing. *sigh* |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|