*Just Like a Star*
perfect starry nights. sweet dreams. moon beams. a love that's warm. and bright.
hello. i spilled coffee on my chin, blouse and office table because i sipped from the wrong end of the cup. good thing it wasn't hawt or i'd have pretty much damaged more than my stuff. oops. i dropped something. my brain.
speaking of brain [in]activities, i had another full-moon-ia /fulmonya/ episode last week when i filed a resignation because i felt like i wanted to try something else without really exactly knowing what that something else was. i said i'd go pursue my foiled radio star plans while freelance writing for all the prettiest glossies in town. i said i thought about it well when all i really did was practice my imaginary would-be-editor interview on the way to the office.
to channel my inner[?] okrayera and grammar nazi inclinations, i decided to one day be a miranda priestly. but first i must become an andy sachs. minus the icky threads she used to wear. i like imagining myself running around in trendy clothes lugging paper bags and balancing a tray of starbucks coffee while cradling my super techy communicator for a voice call... oh wait. i do that for fun.
but i'd like to see myself more like the prada-wearing devil i'm cut out to be [bwahahaha] but on a nicer scale. i'd like to think i don't have pitch forks and a tail although most people would disagree. i don't understand where they get the idea. tchhh.
and since the full moon waned, i'm back to normal, loving every minute of the spilled coffee on my desk. because it means i still have a desk and i still have a job.
speaking of brain [in]activities, i had another full-moon-ia /fulmonya/ episode last week when i filed a resignation because i felt like i wanted to try something else without really exactly knowing what that something else was. i said i'd go pursue my foiled radio star plans while freelance writing for all the prettiest glossies in town. i said i thought about it well when all i really did was practice my imaginary would-be-editor interview on the way to the office.
to channel my inner[?] okrayera and grammar nazi inclinations, i decided to one day be a miranda priestly. but first i must become an andy sachs. minus the icky threads she used to wear. i like imagining myself running around in trendy clothes lugging paper bags and balancing a tray of starbucks coffee while cradling my super techy communicator for a voice call... oh wait. i do that for fun.
but i'd like to see myself more like the prada-wearing devil i'm cut out to be [bwahahaha] but on a nicer scale. i'd like to think i don't have pitch forks and a tail although most people would disagree. i don't understand where they get the idea. tchhh.
and since the full moon waned, i'm back to normal, loving every minute of the spilled coffee on my desk. because it means i still have a desk and i still have a job.
- stuck in :here pa
- glimmerring and:
okaaaay - listening to:voices in my head
i browse kc concepcion's multiply. really depressing. but i love her to pieces because i love her mom lots. yeah sharonians go!
::::::: (",) :::::::
today, i passed off another opportunity to be a star. i have reached a year's quota of foiled sparkle plans. i know there is a chance that i wouldn't be able to make it. what irks me is that i didn't even try. when am i ever going to step up and reach the stars?
::::::: (",) :::::::
plan B: make them come to me.
bukas luluhod ang mga tala.
::::::: (",) :::::::
today, i passed off another opportunity to be a star. i have reached a year's quota of foiled sparkle plans. i know there is a chance that i wouldn't be able to make it. what irks me is that i didn't even try. when am i ever going to step up and reach the stars?
::::::: (",) :::::::
plan B: make them come to me.
bukas luluhod ang mga tala.
- stuck in :plainess
- glimmerring and:
grrr - listening to:my other self
the xaris is a corporate brat.
i threw a tantrum yesterday because i did not get the planner i wanted. i raised my voice at my supervisor because she was not paying attention to me. i interrupted the sales meeting because i felt like doing an impersonation.
i update my friendster and blog and play solitaire when the company email/website is taking too long to respond. i spin around in my swivel chair and roll to different tables when i'm bored. i talk a lot. sing a lot. make noises a lot. when somebody points that out, i throw another tantrum.
all the while i am trying to be grown up; to be an adult who duly pays her taxes and comes to work on time. but there are just days that you feel that life is unfair for throwing you out into the real world too fast, too soon. i am grateful that the first transition phase came easy for me; that i never had a hard time looking for a job and i mean it literally. i never went company-hopping, resume-floating, or ayala/ortigas/makati-strolling to land a decent paying work. i thought that was the end of the student-workforce transition.
i'm in the middle of crossing over from a generic brat to i don't know. they say i have to be a grown up whatever that means. but i refuse to be a thirty-year-old adult when i'm only twenny one. there will be times when i will definitely act up intentionally or otherwise because that's what twenty-one-year-olds do. i'm new at this. nobody should expect me to know precisely what to do in any given situation. i won't be hard on myself because i am making room for mistakes. because i know i am entitled to making them. [haha]
someday, i'll get over being childish or childlike, whatever you call it. and someday, i will have to make only a few mistakes [and that's assuming i learn from them now]. someday still, i will tell a twenty-year old what to do and there's only one thing i can tell that [un]fortunate kid: pace yourself.
my officemates are giving me dagger looks now for blogging. i smile.
i threw a tantrum yesterday because i did not get the planner i wanted. i raised my voice at my supervisor because she was not paying attention to me. i interrupted the sales meeting because i felt like doing an impersonation.
i update my friendster and blog and play solitaire when the company email/website is taking too long to respond. i spin around in my swivel chair and roll to different tables when i'm bored. i talk a lot. sing a lot. make noises a lot. when somebody points that out, i throw another tantrum.
all the while i am trying to be grown up; to be an adult who duly pays her taxes and comes to work on time. but there are just days that you feel that life is unfair for throwing you out into the real world too fast, too soon. i am grateful that the first transition phase came easy for me; that i never had a hard time looking for a job and i mean it literally. i never went company-hopping, resume-floating, or ayala/ortigas/makati-strolling to land a decent paying work. i thought that was the end of the student-workforce transition.
i'm in the middle of crossing over from a generic brat to i don't know. they say i have to be a grown up whatever that means. but i refuse to be a thirty-year-old adult when i'm only twenny one. there will be times when i will definitely act up intentionally or otherwise because that's what twenty-one-year-olds do. i'm new at this. nobody should expect me to know precisely what to do in any given situation. i won't be hard on myself because i am making room for mistakes. because i know i am entitled to making them. [haha]
someday, i'll get over being childish or childlike, whatever you call it. and someday, i will have to make only a few mistakes [and that's assuming i learn from them now]. someday still, i will tell a twenty-year old what to do and there's only one thing i can tell that [un]fortunate kid: pace yourself.
my officemates are giving me dagger looks now for blogging. i smile.
- stuck in :youth
- glimmerring and:
so-so - listening to:is that the phone ringing?
