Jaykie, Jaykie’s nephew George, me. Arm-wrestling at the Marriott.
I just think this is a cute photo.
Interesting. I don’t even remember using this service.
This popped up in my Inbox today:
The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Thursday, October 19, 2006, and sent via FutureMe.org
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Have you won a Palanca already? Have you published a book?
Are you happy?
Well, 2006 self: 1) Yes. 2) Yes. (Though Jeremy’s Magic Well was published after winning a contest. I suppose that still counts, haha.) 3) Yes.
The girl who wrote that letter back in 2006 was very lonely and unsure of her talent, but at least she had hope.
I buy costume jewelry whenever I have the chance, and now I’ve accumulated a pile of them. Rings, earrings, bracelets, necklaces. I love them all, but last night I finally decided to organize.
I started collecting simple earrings, studs and the like,
until I fell in love with dangling pairs
These aren’t jewelry, but Jaykie gave me a tin box for them:
The rest of my accessories are now here:
* * *
Every now and then I turn to Etsy. I don’t shop. I just look and sigh and wonder where I can get these stuff at cheaper prices. Ha. (Also, I don’t like paying first before getting my merchandise. I’d rather go COD or agree to meet-ups, or visit the stall myself.) (Also? Some of Etsy’s jewelry are overpriced. I saw a necklace that looked exactly like the one I bought at ToyCon for P150. On Etsy it was going for what? Eighteen dollars? Please.)
All of the following photos are from the site. Go visit.
Sigh. So pretty.
was a good week. Met up with Jaykie almost every day, and on Saturday I was finally able to shop and have a mani/pedi. I’ve had a pedicure every week since the Bohol weekend, but I can’t even remember the last time I’ve had a manicure! My poor nails.
(My perfect manicure didn’t even last an hour: I bit on my right thumbnail while having lunch. Heh.)
Jaykie had class on Saturday, so while waiting for him at the mall I bought a 1) leather case for my cell phone (which will have to do as an mp3 player, since I don’t want to shell out that much money for an iPod), 2) gifts for my parents, 3) another pair of Havaianas flip-flops (since they’re durable and I’ve discovered the joy of not having to wash socks every single day), and 4) a wallet! I’ve long led a wallet-less existence, but I saw a flash of purple in the store, so:
Now if I can only fill it with money.
We bought booze and went wasak to celebrate Jaykie’s good first week in grad school.
We had drinks while watching –
America’s Next Top Model Cycle 13!
Why? I DON’T KNOW.
Aaaand I threw up several hours later. I can’t seem to handle my booze anymore. I should swear off drinking.
* * *
On Friday night I had a dream that I actually remembered upon waking. In the dream, I was in my old boarding house back in my college days, and I just knew it was raining outside – it had that cold, wet feel. Then I woke up, and I felt incredibly sad. You know that feeling, as though your life were only starting? I had that feeling in undergrad. All the possibilities! So much joy in the simple act of crossing the street from Mass Comm to have lunch with friends in the College of Music’s cramped cafeteria, in watching a foreign film while freezing my ass off inside Videotheque. But even when I was alone, I was generally happy. Reading Newsweek in the college library, walking home to the boarding house after three subjects. I’ve never before realized the intensity of my dreams then. How hopeful I was.
* * *
Sorry for that random spurt of nostalgia/melancholia.
* * *
And now, for your Moment of Zen:
Mar Roxas will have unlimited access to me.
Ahihi. :”> (Credit: Philippine Daily Inquirer.)
1. Oy, we have a new president. Good vibes, good vibes.
3. I like my Math simplistic.
4. I don’t really get Math.
5. I’m working on a story that finally found its direction. Now it’s all a matter of not being so fucking lazy.
6. I actually have stuff pending in several places. Good news: I haven’t received any rejections. Bad news: I haven’t received any acceptances, either. Where are my rejection slips, editors? Come on, give ’em to me so I can send my pieces to other shops.
(Recommended reading: Mary Robinette Kowal’s “Why rejections make me laugh. Auditions are good prep.” Got it from Charles Tan’s blog.
With writing, the rejection comes months after I did the work, after I’ve already moved onto another project that I’m excited about. I just pop the story in the mail and send it off to someone new. Eventually, it will sell if I’m patient enough.
There’s always another chance to sell a story. And I only have to do the work once.
This is why I say rejections don’t matter in fiction. Of course, I’d rather sell the story but the important thing, the thing I learned from theater is to put all my effort into performing the audition — which in writing is the story — and not worry about the results of the casting. The performance of the audition is in my control. The casting isn’t.
The writing is in my control. The editor’s choice, isn’t.
You see why rejections for fiction make me laugh?
You go girl.)
7. MY MP3 PLAYER DIED WAH.
8. I haven’t been jogging lately.
9. Item 8 has no connection with Item 7 because I can jog in complete sil- Wait.
10. So we’re here now: scorching hot mornings, rainy evenings. I love the rain, but the heat is still killing me, man.
How have you been?
Nice quiet Monday dinner and coffee to celebrate our seventh month together. Spaghetti and potato salad and and sausages and peach pancakes and mango crepe and whipped cream (Pancake House) and espresso java chip frappes (Starbucks). Windy day. Nice day.
* * *
Had a pedicure yesterday morning after an effing long time. I’d be spending time in Bohol mostly in flip-flops and my un-pedicured toenails would look er disgusting. So. I like this nail polish because it makes my feet look pale:
The parlor I went to was just across the street from the building where I live, and appeared to cater mostly to old women. Haha. I was the youngest person there. It was like stepping into another planet.
Ate managed to remove the indelible ink from my forefinger! Finally. I would’ve wanted to subject my fingernails to a coat or two of nail polish as well, but how will I get my money from my pocket without ruining my manicure? (LOL.) Anyone here know of a place where they let you dry your nails before pushing you out of the salon?
I’ve set aside Falling Man to read this. Thanks Jaykie for the pressure buying me a copy. Note the lace bookmark. (I make bookmarks out of everything. Folded receipts, shirt tags, etc. This one came from a top I own. I still wear that top – amazingly the subtraction worked.)
I have an idea for a story, but every time I sit down to start writing it just runs away. It simply won’t take shape. Very frustrating. One of these days I’ll sit down in a quiet corner with a pen and my Spongebob notebook (the white, empty screen of my laptop is making me puke) and a cup of coffee and brainstorm until I churn out an outline. (“Outline” is a fancy term I use for snippets of scene descriptions and dialogue arranged in more or less chronological order. I don’t do the academic outline with the Roman numerals and shit, I’m not that crazy.)
Also, I just learned at the PSF V launch (thanks Charles for the head’s up) that my poem, “Tour Guide” (the last poem I wrote before the pesky poetry writer’s block hit), is in the April 4 issue of the Free Press. Yeah, I’m late, I’m sorry, I forget to monitor these things. Hope you can get a copy. :) National Bookstore and the convenience stores (7-Eleven, Mini-Stop) carry back issues; Jaykie and I even saw some inside a Mercury Drug branch. So yes, my poetry can be found inside a drug store, or on the shelf beside the booze. Coolest thing ever.