• Family,  Friends,  Places

    A quick trip to Quezon

    For weeks, I pestered my parents for us to take a trip. It doesn’t have to be far away! I just want to get away from the metro for a while!

    Finally, on a weekend near the end of November, they caved to my whining. We’d be going to Quezon for an overnight trip, and they encouraged me to bring Gelo so I’ll have company.

    beach, trees

    And so, with some alcohol in the bed of our pickup and way more food than is necessary for an overnight trip, we drove to Real, Quezon. Being the chronically sleepy bum that I am, I spent the whole drive fast asleep, curled up like a cat, while Gelo happily made conversation with my parents.

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  • Friends,  Personal Favorites,  Prose and poetry

    You, me, and the sea

    But time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I’m getting older, too.

    Landslide, Fleetwood Mac

    “I’m happy we’re doing this,” you said. “We haven’t really talked like this in a while, and I’ve been wanting to speak with you.”
    I perked up a little, trying to blink the drowsiness from my heavy eyes. I wanted to listen, to truly hear what you had to say. Then again, you never did have much trouble catching my attention.

    tent on beach
    Photo by Jamison McAndie on Unsplash
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  • Friends,  Mental health,  Ruminations

    I will always believe in you even when no one else will, not even you

    He spots me smoking alone and staring off into space. Lost in my Spotify playlist, I don’t notice him approach until he taps me on the shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”

    He didn’t need to wait for an answer. I couldn’t speak, anyway. I just collapsed into his embrace.


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  • Friends

    To K & P

    I’ve had a lot of friends in my life come and go. For some reason, you two stayed.

    You’ve seen me at my best – joyful, laughing, making goals and bursting with joie de vivre. Now you see me at my worst – utterly despondent, lifeless, despairing.

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  • Friends,  Prose and poetry

    A conversation between Allison and Claire

    “Which The Breakfast Club character are you?” I asked. It was meant to be a light question, one that was meant to keep the mood easy. After all, it had been a tough week for us both, and all we wanted was to relax and knock back some beers under the night sky.
    “I’m Allison, of course,” I droned on, lighting a cigarette. “I always was a freak.”
    You scoffed and leaned back into the wicker chair. “You’re really not. The weirdest thing about you is how you think you’re a loser.”

    “How am I not?” I demanded, gesticulating wildly towards myself. “Look at me. I’m an overweight, socially-awkward loser with bad skin and unfashionable clothes. Everyone says I’m weird. Hell, even when they don’t say it, I can feel them thinking it.” It used to hurt to think of myself in such awful terms, but I’m slowly embracing the fact. I pressed on, “Plus, in high school, I was always that girl, the one everyone thought was a bit off. I’m goddamned Allison, and that’s the end of it.”

    “Fine, okay! Jesus.” You gave a short laugh, sipping from your glass. “I’d have to say, I’m Allison, too.”

    “The fuck you are!” I cried. My head was getting foggy, and I wanted to scream out into the stars that you, dear sir, were far too lovely to be Allison.
    “What? I’m Allison. I’m as weird as you! That’s probably why we’re friends! Unless—” Your eyes widened. “Shit, I’m Claire.”
    My laughter was a mix of amusement and disdain. “God, you’re right! You’re Claire! I mean, look at you!” I jabbed my cigarette at the air. “Well-off family, lots of friends, expensive clothes, nice things, basically everything you could ask for—and still unhappy! God!”
    After another round of laughter, you adopted a more somber look. “Seriously, though. It’s pretty sad that no matter how lucky Claire—and I,” you hastily added, seeing my death stare, “No matter how lucky Claire and I are, we’re still miserable with our completely empty lives.” Reaching over, you plucked the cigarette from my fingers and crushed it on the table, your brows furrowed in thought.
    I sighed deeply and brushed some ash from your hair. We’ve been through this conversation many times before, and never did it end up neatly. A few minutes passed, both of us looking out at the city lights, lost in thoughts never to reach our lips. Finally, I broke the silence.
    “Do you think we’d still be friends on Monday?” I teased, referencing one of my favorite lines from the movie.
    Your answer sounded hesitant and a little sad. “I don’t think so.”
    “Typical Claire,” I said, and we started laughing again.
    I refilled my glass and drank as quickly as I could. I wanted the truth, and I got it. The truth was, we never could tell how The Breakfast Club ended. For all we know, Allison and Claire passed each other in the halls many times, and never acknowledged each other again. After all, despite all their similarities, they were far too different, from separate cliques, lives, and worlds.
    How many times have we talked about this? For that matter, how many times have we watched The Breakfast Club? We know how it goes: our favorite fivesome will never have that moment of openness, ever again. They will ignore each other in the hallways, and laugh at each other’s backs. They go back to being strangers.
    But it wasn’t what either of us wants to hear. The best we could do is hope that Monday would never come.
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  • Friends,  Music,  Ruminations

    I listen to Tennis and think of you

    Listening to Tennis reminds me of you.
    At first, I couldn’t figure out why; I just knew that when I hear the strains of My Better Self, I wish I was having a cold beer with you. After approximately 182 listens to Tennis, I’ve figured out why they remind me of you.

    When I started listening to them, I never thought, “This will be a band I’ll love.” It was a casual decision based on downloading random music from the Internet. A few weeks later, I realized I hadn’t gone a day without listening to them.
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  • Friends


    Thanks to our conflicting schedules, I only get to see Gelo around once a month. It sucks donkey balls, but it’s a blessing in disguise, because when we do meet, we make sure it counts.

    Yesterday, we went to Gateway. I am sick of malls, so before that, we tried coming up with other places we could go, including Milky & Sunny, Bookay-Ukay, and Quezon Memorial Circle. We even almost boarded a bus to Tagaytay on a whim, until we decided to just go to Cubao. Shame. I really wanted to go to Tagaytay, but we’ll save it for next time.

    Anyway, Instagram photos of yesterday~

    Taco Bell, as usual
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  • Friends

    Happy Blood and Peanut Butter Day!


    You are Finn-ter Angelo and I shall be Mikaelarceline! #AdventureTimeGeekgasm

    It’s February 12 and you know what that means.
    God, you’re so fucking old already.
    I mean, seriously. You’re twenty. TWENTY. Your age no longer has the -teen suffix. You’re an adult now! You’re growing up! I wish I could say the same for your height, though. HAH!



    So, you know the deal. This is the third birthday blog I’ve written for you, and you know that I’m just going to prattle on about how you’re an amazing person and how I’m lucky to have you in my life, blah blah.

    But I can’t help it; you are amazing. You:

    • are the best listener I’ve known. When I talk to you, you don’t seem distracted or uninterested, you engage me and make me feel better even if your advice, um, sucks
    • are the only one who doesn’t get annoyed when I get picky and high-maintenance about where to eat. California Pizza Kitchen, The Old Spaghetti House, Cafe France… Yep, you’d eat with me anywhere
    • are a good sport when I beat you in videoke (in your face, cunt! TAYLOR SWIFT 4EVR!)
    • don’t know how to accept compliments about your art, which pisses me off because you’re talented
    • were so generous as to give me your original copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I never really forgot that favor
    • always manage to salvage my self-esteem when I feel like a needy, clingy, worthless loser
    • have EXCELLENT taste in music and movies

    For me, your birthday is a big deal, because hello, this is the day you were born and I am so thankful that you are alive today. So. You know. Happy birthday, I labia, and stuff!

    (You might have noticed that I made a conscious effort not to make this too sappy. My sketchpad is cheesy enough.)

    Adventure Time photo taken here. Because I like to give credit.

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  • Activities,  Friends

    I went ice skating! (sort of)

    I’ve always dreamed of a white Christmas: snowball fights, snow angels, and all that. But in this tropical country, the closest I can get to ice is a skating rink.
    I went to MOA with Gelo yesterday to try my hand (feet?) at ice skating. Being a klutz, I didn’t expect it to be easy, but damn, I didn’t expect it to be this hard! I landed on my ass six times (yeah, I kept count) and on my last fall, landed on my left knee. As I’m typing this, I’m aching all over and nursing several bruises.

    That confident smile hid the fact that I was so stiff when this photo was taken. I was moving so slowly that he had to hold my hand and drag me around the rink. It wasn’t so much “skating” as it was “human sled ride”. Amazingly, I lasted for around 2-3 hours before begging him to stop. #endurance

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  • Books and Comics,  Family,  Food,  Friends,  Places

    My last “-teen” birthday

    As of Sunday, August 14, 2011, I am nineteen years old, the last of my “-teen” years. This means I have one more year before I really have to start acting like an adult.

    “Holy crap, I’m getting old” issues aside, I really loved my birthday celebration this year.

    Saturday afternoon: Paula gave me a cake. I was speechless; I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually give me anything. <3
    P.S. That’s supposed to be “Happy 19th b-day Ela,” but someone *ehemPeterAngeloehem* didn’t hold the box right and ruined the icing.