Blooming carnations

B wanted to know if the carnations bloomed after all. I put them in the vase last Saturday (he gave them Friday night).

Yes, they bloomed. Orange and green is the new yellow and pink (says me). :)

The best gifts are those given just because

Thank you. For the flowers and just because. I'm glad you're coming home.

P.S. I took good care of the flowers this time, changing the water and trimming the stems and everything. :)

The Backstreet Boys will always have a place in music history

I have a newfound appreciation for Backstreet Boys after watching their concert last night. I realize now how important that event was in my life: I.was.watching.THE.ULTIMATE.BOY.BAND perform in person. And it took 17 years for them to get to the PI!

The BSB concert stage was all purple, pink and blue lights. How Backstreet Boys!! Pulling something like that without looking gay. And you know why? The BSB represents the times when kids were wholesome, when teenagers dressed in jeans and rubber shoes, without makeup and certainly without any part of their abdomen showing. Such was the hope the BSB lyrics gave squealing girls: that some Nick Carter or Howie Dorough would come into our lives and give us true love. The BSB set the bar for boy bands. Until today, I look at the BSB as so wholesome that I couldn't even imagine them getting it on with the backup dancers. Couldn't and wouldn't.

I have to say the concert was a bit boring though. They gave the old boy band stunts
that didn't really do anything except make them look ridiculous because they already look like fathers and drug addicts to be honest. Hoodies and rubber shoes? Not really. Leave that to the Jonas Brothers, please! Is it just me or do they seem tired as well? It felt like any wild move and someone's gonna pop a joint.

Nevertheless, I'm glad I went to the concert. It's my second concert ever after E-heads which I enjoyed far less. I wonder if NSync is ever gonna get together and have a final world tour?

I feel so much better

Ok, I just came back from a client meeting. We spent 30 minutes talking about a project an an hour discussing the good fortunes of his children. All his daughters are IT professionals working abroad for international companies. They're Ateneo graduates who started locally with HP or P&G, and eventually got transferred to other countries.

Yes, I feel so much better now. My dad would do anything to be able to brag like that about me. I wonder when I will finally make him proud like that.

Mean Reds

Another day just like all the other days. I'm getting a serious case of the mean reds this year. Does this happen as women grow older? The feeling that there's nothing to look forward to? That you're sick of struggling for everything... for anything?

I just want the ground to open beneath my feet and swallow me up whole already. I'm so sick of being me. Can't even look at myself in the mirror without wanting to barf. I'm tired of aspiring.

How to be happy

Today I arrived at the conclusion that I am generally not a happy person. What do I mean? It simply means I don't radiate sunshine everywhere I go. You cannot engage me in a conversation where I am supposed to express wonder and amazement in every second sentence. Instead talk to me if you're looking for sarcasm, judgment, mean jokes, someone's unflattering top, someone's stupid boyfriend, his lame-ass car, and celebrities getting fat.

Talk to me if you want to hear what a load of crap you are, but only because you're listening to me, though not really because I'm actually very wise (half kidding ;D).

I blame my incapacity for true bliss to being a Virgo and an INTJ. Our types are so obsessed with making things--and even ourselves--perfect that perfection is bound to be constantly "just around the corner". I suspect I won't know I have something good if it whacks me on the head.

And so, it's not men's fault they can't make me happy. It's me. I'll grow old alone and holding out for something better. I'll work myself to the bone, emotionally bare. I'll lose touch with my family. I'll have one or two real friends. I'll be hard and cynical with a weird sense of humor.

I mean, look at my co-star signs and fellow type logics: River Phoenix (Virgo, committed suicide), Hannibal Lecter (INTJ, cannibal), Mr. Darcy (INTJ, arrogant prick), Jane Austen (INTJ, spinster, early career woman)... you get the picture.

So yeah... I can't help it-- my preference for struggle and conflict, I mean-- in all things, especially in love. It makes me feel I'm working towards something, that the relationship has some kind of value that's why it's difficult.

I once told B that there should be something wrong about our relationship; it's too... smooth-sailing. He got mad. It figures; he's an ENFJ, the type who hates conflict in relationships probably more than any Jungian type logic there is.

I'm uplifted that year 2010 has and is continuing to shower us with problems. Sadly, we don't really know exactly which are real and which are imagined, a very big problem in itself. I should be rolling with delight, only I'm not confident that we can solve the problems at all.

In my friend's email, she asked, "Where are you right now?" If only I were passive, I would like to be where people want me to be.

I used to feel guilty for wanting something different... for being less than content with everything being given and promised to me. It's not that it's not enough... I just don't want all of it. It's different now. I realize I have to communicate this somehow, and sometimes silence speaks decibels. I used to be afraid of losing everything. But what can be so bad about losing something I'm not supposed to have?

This is all because of my dream last night. It hurled me into this depression ever since I woke up. The dream summed up everything I've been unwilling to face these past few days...

I'm taking a big risk with this post. It's everything I can't say. It's the silence that's just a tad longer than necessary. Can you hear it?

It's my dad's birthday today. Happy birthday, dad!