I wonder...
::: Friday, October 25, 2002 :::
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 |
You're
Cutie!
You like to always
look very feminine and pretty sweet. With soft colors, dresses, and some other accessories always very
glamourous
What's
your Own Fashion Style?
|
Which Charmed character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
::: posted by
Chel at 10/25/2002 11:32:00 PM | |
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Mad Girl's Love Song
by Sylvia Plath
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in;
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moonstruck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
::: posted by
Chel at 10/25/2002 11:26:00 PM | |
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Snatched from www.pangga.blogspot.com
1. You are attracted to those who are elegant and well-mannered.
2. In the process of courtship, the approach that would make you
feel irresistable is patience, never give up on you.
3. The impression you would like to give to your lover is stylish.
4. You don't like it when your partner is emotional and/or too
moody; and you don't know how to please him/her.
5. The kind of relationship you would like to build with your
partner is one that you care not only about the present but
also the future with your partner, a long-lasting relationship
that you can grow with.
6. You care about the society and morality, you won't do anything
wrong after marriage.
7. You are quite pessimistic, you don't think happy marriages exist
anymore nowadays.
8. At this moment, you think of love as a committment for both parties
::: posted by
Chel at 10/25/2002 06:15:00 PM | |
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It's 3:03 in the morning and I'm awake.
Nah, I have not just finished studying OB-Gyne - actually, I haven't started reading the damn book. So much for wanting to be an obstetrician someday.
After another disastrous haircut this afternoon (Richard of David's Davao - uwi ka na sa Luzon please), I was wasting my time in Centerpoint when I suddenly felt a small lump inside my inner lip - actually, in the mucosal surface of the mouth but that would sound incredible nerdy - and I panicked. It was the size of a small mole, and elevated. I just had a case discussion on our PD patient with breast cancer that afternoon, so you can just imagine how scared I was. And then I remembered that the past few days, I actually felt cervical lymph nodes, so I immediately thought maybe it was cancer. Plus, the lump was painful when I ran my tongue over it. It didn't help that I had that conversation with a taxi driver not so long ago about his brother in-law who has squamous cell cancer in the oral cavity. I got so scared because I thought hey, the head and neck region pa naman is filled with lymphatics, this would metastasize soon. I started mapping out my plan for my more-or-less six months more of stay here in Earth - I'll get married right away, drop out of med school, and just enjoy my six months to the fullest. Then even when I'm supposed to be on a diet, I bought blueberry cheesecake and ate it after my relatively heavy dinner. I was so scared I couldn't even talk to Aimee when she called.
I fell asleep. When I woke up, I found the mass has burst, and all along, it was just a sore lang pala na lumobo. Talk about hypochondriasis. Yan ang mahirap sa med school, simpleng bagay nagkakatakutan. Even Aimee had a bout of paranoia last week - her cough still didn't resolve after two weeks, and we were considering the possibility of TB. Funny thing was, even when I was so scared because I thought I might have cancer, the idea that at least, I'll have weight loss in the next couple of months came to me. :)
Maybe it's an offshoot of spending your whole day sitting on lectures and interviewing patients. Then when you go home, there's the patient report to finish after which you read pa Harrison's ( or in this module, Panlilio and Williams - who, btw, claimed that swallowing sperm decreases the risk of pre-eclampsia in pregnant women; hmn, obvious tuloy na lalake siya. Si Panlilio, hindi sinabi yun eh), which is, like, a repository of diseases that can make even the healthiest man on Earth squirm in his seat.
Anyway, when I woke up and found out that it's just a sore, I ate a second dinner. :P Yeah, I know. But I needed to celebrate. Besides, sticking to the diet now is futile because I'll most probably be meeting the boys in my life (Rhome and Roy)tomorrow for dinner and maybe coffee. Yey, Green Tea Frap, I miss you. :) Rhome texted me earlier, and told me he has a problem, he's depressed, and he hopes I can help him. He wouldn't tell me naman on text what his problem is. Hindi ako sanay na namomroblema siya, ang labo. Oh well. Maybe trouble in paradise? But then why would he ask for the help of the ex if that's the case? LOL
Whatever, I'll know tomorrow. And btw, I also had a bout of another paranoia but then it disappeared after I found out it can't be true.Hay, do I have stars in my eyes now?
::: posted by
Chel at 10/25/2002 12:26:00 PM | |
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::: Thursday, October 24, 2002 :::
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From www.toptensite.blogspot.com
top 10 things a young single woman should know
1. You'll get over that devastating heartbreak. And you will love again. Yes, you will even though you feel your life is falling apart right now.
2. Never put your life on hold for anyone, not even for that man you love so dearly.
3. Love is never enough. Whenever possible, use the brain over the heart.
4. Then again, all things being equal, follow your heart as long as your thought process also involved the brain.
5. Keep your virginity as long as you can. This is only for you to be able to exercise your brain when you so decide to finally lose it to someone you love. But don't think it's the end and be all of your existence. It isn't.
6. It's the year 2002. Do yourself a favor and learn about birth control.
7. When it comes to men, always opt for character over anything else. Ask about a guy's beliefs and values. That's the real him.
8. Know what you want. This will take some doing. But once you know what you want, there will be less nights torturing yourself solving any problem you will face. And it's also a character trait extremely attractive to men.
9. Always have a little black dress in your wardrobe.
10. About 90% of the time, when a guy is a bumbling idiot each time he talks or faces you, he is actually in love with you. If not, and he's a tad too smooth or a tad too confident, you may just be another conquest. Be wary of this guy.
::: posted by
Chel at 10/24/2002 02:37:00 AM | |
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::: Wednesday, October 23, 2002 :::
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SHOWBIZ! SHOWBIZ! SHOWBIZ!
What time is it? 7:33 pm
Name as it appears on your birth certificate: Not here, but the birth certificate of my first daughter (oo na, hahanap muna ko ng boyfriend) will be Danielle Nicole.
Nickname: Chel
Parent's names: Lorenzo and Lourdes
Number of candles that appeared on your last birthday cake? my blueberry cheesecake didn't have candles, but I'm 24
Date that you regularly blow them out: July 24, 1978
Pets: Rhome and Roy not counted? None.
Height: on a really good day, 5'7"
Eye color: black
Hair Color: Black, but now, it has copper highlights
Piercing: three holes on each ear
Tattoos only fake ones
How much do you love your job: I used to really adore it, but now, med school's so toxic beating the deadline can be a bummer
Birthplace: Gapan, Nueva Ecija
Hometown: Gapan, Nueva Ecija
Current Residence: Sta. Mesa, Manila
Had the drink Calypso Breeze? no
Been in love before: I think so
Been to Africa? no
Been drunk?? not THAT drunk
Been toilet-papered? nope.
Loved somebody so much it made you cry? No, but I was annoyed at Rhome so much it did make me cry.
Been in a car crash? no
Croutons or Bacon Bits: croutons
2 doors or 4? doesn't matter
Sprite or 7 Up: Sprite
Coffee or Coffee Ice cream: coffee
Blanket or stuffed animal: blanket
Dumper or Dumpee: i'd rather be the dumper, but you'd have to be dumpee sometimes. that's just the way it is.
WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE...
Salad Dressing: Caesar's
Color of socks: black
Number: 1
Letter: J
Place to be kissed: lips
Movie/s: Life is Beautiful, EverAfter, Never Been Kissed, You've Got Mail, My Bestfriend's Wedding
Quote from a movie: Anything less than mad, passionate love is a waste of my time.
Favorite Holiday: Christmas
Foods: blueberry cheesecake, Bacolod Chicken Inasal
Favorite day of the week: Saturday
Song at the moment: Only Hope - A Walk to Remember
TV show/s: Gilmore Girls, Seventh Heaven, Sex and the City, and my ultimate favorite, Will and Grace
Celebrity (/celebrities): Drew Barrymore
Word or Phrase: "ano kaya ang ginagawa ng pinakamamahal kong siMichelle?" - texted by the asshole last night :P
Shampoo: Pantene Volume and Fullness
Toothpaste: Colgate Whitening
Restaurant: Bellini's, Friday's
Flower: roses
Least Favorite Subject? Urology
Alcoholic Drink: Mule
Sport to Watch: basketball
Type of Ice Cream: rocky road
Zoo Exhibit: what?
Sesame Street Character cookie monster
Fast Food Restaurant: McDonald's
RANDOM QUESTIONS
When was your last hospital visit? kanina lang- I'm a med student
Favorite drink: diet soda
What color is your bedroom's carpet? none
What was the name of your childhood blanket: none
How many times did you fail your permit? never
What do you think of Ouija boards: huh?
Where do you see yourself in 10 yrs: in a hospital, slaving away
Who is the last person that you got mail from before this one: Paul
Have you ever been convicted of a crime: no
Which single store would you choose to max your credit card? Nine West
What do you do most often when you are bored: blog
What words or phrases do you overuse: oo nga
Name the person that you are friends with that lives the farthest away from you: Karolina
Most annoying thing: waiting
Best thing: being loved
What time is it now? 7:55 pm
::: posted by
Chel at 10/23/2002 04:41:00 AM | |
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snatched from Quarter Life Crisis
HINDI KA NA BA NIYA MAHAL
ni Gaby Camacho
*condensed version
Paano mo malalaman kung wala nang natitirang pag-ibig para sa iyo sa puso niya? Ito ang mga warning signs:
Hindi na ba niya sinasagot ang mga text mo?
Ayaw na ba niyang makipag-holding hands sa'yo?
Hindi ka na ba niya sinusundo?
HIndi ka na rin ba niya hinahatid?
Late na ba siya lagi sa date niyo?
Masyado na ba siyang busy pa sa'yo?
Bihira na ba siya magsabi ng "I love you"?
Kapag tinatanong ma ba siya kung mahal ka pa niya, nagagalit siya?
Hindi na ba niya sinasabing maganda ka?
Mas gusto pa ba niya manood ng tv kaysa kausapin ka?
HIndi ka na ba niya dinadalhan ng bulaklak?
Hindi na ba niya ginagawa ang mga ginagawa niya noong nililigawan ka pa lang niya?
HIndi na ba siya malambing kahit man lang sa text?
Maikli na ba ang pasensya niya sa iyo?
Hindi na ba kayo nagtatawanan?
HIndi ka ba niya pinapakilala sa friends niya?
Bwisit ba siya sa friends mo?
Hindi na ba malambing ang boses niya sa'yo?
Mas mabait ba siya kapag kausap niya ang ibang tao?
Madalas ba siyang sumira ng plano?
Hanggang kanto na lang ba ang hatid niya sa'yo?
Kapag tinatanong mo ba siya kung magbi-break na kayo, ang sagot ba niya, "Ikaw?"
Hindi ka na ba niya sinasama sa mga handaan ng kanilang pamilya?
Madalas na ba siyang naglilihim sa iyo?
Hindi ka na ba niya pinapasalubungan?
Ayaw na ba niyang pinaguusapan ang future niyo?
Madalas na ba siyang umalis ng hindi ka kasama?
Hindi na ba siya nagseselos kahit anong gawin mo?
Habang kausap mo ba siya text siya ng text?
Hindi ka na ba niya namimiss?
Ikaw na lang ba ang laging nagyaya mag-date?
Kahit ba nagtatampo ka na hindi ka pa rin niya pinapansin?
Ano ang dapat mong gawin?
Ginaganyan ka na, lalambingin mo pa rin?
Palitan mo na. Bilis.
::: posted by
Chel at 10/23/2002 03:52:00 AM | |
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::: Tuesday, October 22, 2002 :::
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I feel sick.
::: posted by
Chel at 10/22/2002 04:25:00 AM | |
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::: Monday, October 21, 2002 :::
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My weblog owns 6.25 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?
::: posted by
Chel at 10/21/2002 07:03:00 AM | |
(0) comments
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Stolen from bunny's blog
Youngblood, Inquirer September 2001
MY PLACE
By SC
TODAY, I will attend an execution: my own. I will watch it with both eyes open and I will not cry. I will not break down just because the man I have loved since forever will marry someone else. I will watch him promise himself to a woman who will never love him like I have. I will watch them bind themselves to a vow I should have taken.
I have loved Oliver almost all my life. I have known him since I saved his six-year-old hide from a bully named Ricardo who wanted to rid him of his two yellowed front teeth. I was five at the time, but having grown with five older brothers and a hellion of a sister, ``Totoy Cardo'' was a piece of cake.
Oliver was so overcome with embarrassment at having a girl to protect his scrawny neck that from that time on he made it a point to be the rescuer, not the rescued.
As time passed, muscles filled out this lanky frame and those two front teeth began to sparkle. He combs his hair, and he takes a bath daily now. In short, he has become a fine specimen of manhood.
The best part is, he lived up to his promise: he became my self-appointed guardian (well, I don't know if that's the best or the worst part). He was just always there, sticking to me like glue. It used to drive me nuts that he never let me out of his sight.
When I was 12, I ran from the infirmary on my way home. I had found out in the most humiliating way that I had become a woman: there was a big red stain on the back portion of my skirt. The jeers and the taunts followed me through the school corridors.
Oliver dashed after me and offered to accompany me home. I declined, of course. He seemed to understand my discomfiture and promised to drop later with the things left in school.
When I reached home I was told that I needed to jump three times on the stairs (which I did) and to wash my face with my blood (which I didn't do).
Oliver dropped by in the afternoon, sporting a black eye and a bruise on his arm. When I asked him what happened, he said he had walked into a closed door. I believed him. But a few days later, minus the dysmennorhea, I found out that Oliver got into fisticuffs because some guy made a disgusting remark about me.
Nobody had ever fought for me before that. And when you're 12 and discussing in class how King Arthur and fairest of them all, Lancelot, fought for Guinevere's love, you tend to get ideas. I loved Oliver then.
When we were in high school and I found out that the school's heartthrob and one of my most ardent suitors, Richard, was involved with a bustier girl, it was to Oliver that I ran. When I didn't graduate as valedictorian and I got so drunk, it was Oliver who took me home. He didn't even mind that I barfed all over his dad's car (which he borrowed without permission). When I decided to go to UP and he went to Ateneo, we celebrated by partying. When I lost my mom in a car accident, he took care of everything. When my dad followed my mom less than a year later after a heart attack, he was there again.
By this time he was an appendage of my life. He used to check out the guys I came to know. Nobody dared to get serious with me--not when Oliver had a black belt.
I didn't know how to define our relationship. I didn't know what we were. We definitely were more than friends, better even than best friends. It was like we were a couple, but formally not one. We did all the things that couples did like hang out and neck but always stopped when things got too hot. Since we never defined what we meant to each other, we never said ``I love you'' or whatever serious couple told each other. As a result, I remained a chaste princess while my prince caroused and sowed wild oats, but still had the energy to monitor my movements.
I didn't mind. After all, I was so sure we'd end up together. I always thought that in the end, it would be us. I loved him. I managed to convince myself that he loved me (what else could it be?). Little did I know that love doesn't conquer all, it only conquers the weak.
I didn't think he'd be so stupid as to get a girl pregnant on the same night they met at a party. I didn't think he'd be so stupid as to forget to use some form of contraception. After all, he had given me a lecture on safe sex. And I didn't think he'd be so stupid as to marry the girl.
But maybe I forgot that after all he was a man, and men have been known to be stupid about these things. Their brain is located in a region other than between the ears.
What could I do? Kicking him in the groin and punching him in the eye seemed like a good idea then. Don't blame me; he was the one who enrolled me in a self-defense course. But I did not feel better. Seeing him bent over in pain only made me angrier. I wasted my life for this lousy excuse of a man? I could not believe it!
I wanted nothing more than to run to him and beg him to wake me up from the stupid dream. I wanted him to take me some place where we didn't know anybody. No pain, no memory, no humiliation. I wanted to just forget it ever happened but since I flunked in the School for Martyrs, I couldn't, for the life of me pretend, it didn't happen. I
couldn't pretend he didn't hurt me. I couldn't pretend everything was fine and dandy and exactly the way it was before.
We didn't talk for a month. For both of us who were practically inseparable, that was like an eternity. I ducked into corners whenever I would see him. I wouldn't take his calls. I wouldn't see him. And for some time hate was my reason for getting up in the morning, for breathing, for living. Hate and I became good friends.
``God brings men into deep waters, not to drown them but to cleanse them,'' somebody once wrote. I didn't want to be cleansed. I just wanted to drown in pain and misery and utter desolation. I wanted to wallow in the dark and deep pit of despair.
I know a thousand and one clichis that say this can be a blessing and that I should be thankful. But thankful is the last thing I'm feeling right now. I've always thought that there are three kinds of women: those who break, those who mend and those who are broken themselves. Before this hit me, I assumed that I belonged to the first or second
category. Now I know I'm in the third--so hurt and broken up inside.
My grandmother used to say that there is nothing you can do about pain when it gives you a silly grin except grin right back. All I could manage was a wry smile, a killer headache and the worst hangover the day before his wedding. Evidence of that is the disgusting sight of mashed potatoes and barbecue, thrown up not three meters away from where I was lying prostrate on the floor and the awful stench of cigarette on my hair.
Frankly I don't want to go. I want to wallow in misery in my messy room, crying, retching and stinking, surrounded with Michael Learns to Rock (whose songs are dedicated to the broken-hearted) CDs. But I have to go and attend the wedding. I have to bathe and prepare and put on that atrocious peach (it's not even my color!) gown. I'm not doing it for the groom, my one true friend and love, Oliver. Neither am I doing it for the bride, my younger sister, Sandra, who needs me. I'm doing it for my unborn niece who has the great fortune of having me as her aunt.
Call me stupid, but I've always known my place. If it isn't beside the man I was destined to marry, if it isn't behind my sister, who will take his name, wear his ring and bear him a child, then it must be with my niece, cradled close to my heart so that she will know both of our love.
-------------------
SC, 22, teaches at a private school in Cagayan de Oro City while taking up postgraduate studies.
::: posted by
Chel at 10/21/2002 06:57:00 AM | |
(0) comments
::: Sunday, October 20, 2002 :::
?
| I have issues with... |
race
honesty
history
gender
law
|
Take Word Association Test
::: posted by
Chel at 10/20/2002 01:08:00 AM | |
(0) comments
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take free enneagram test
::: posted by
Chel at 10/20/2002 01:02:00 AM | |
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