On all things OC.

GOODBYE, MARISSA.

Now don't get me wrong, I am NOT left behind! ha ha. I've just picked all the wrong DVDs to buy thanks to my suki . The first third season of The OC that I bought was missing about 4 episodes, and the next one that I bought missed the most important one - the last episode.

I've been trying to watch it on You Tube but all I can watch are the silly edited MTVs. Ha ha. All the good ones don't load.

Today, I was channel surfing when I stumbled on The OC on ETC. I was wishing it was the last episode, and voila! It was.



A SURE SIGN OF ADDICTION.

The moment I started watching the first season, I didn't stop for the next ten hours. 9PM to 7AM straight. That's how addicted I am.



I already knew that Marissa was going to die but I've been anxious to see how, and why Ryan just sat there. And man did I get teary-eyed! But Jed, Caloi and I agreed that nothing beats Season One's season ender. But man, this is Marissa. And she died. Just like that?

PLUS they played freakin' HALLELUJAH as the background music again! (Jed always tells me ahead too. Ha ha.) Super nakakadala kaya yung kantang yun? I downloaded the slower version na . I love all the breathing Rufus Wainwright does at the beggining of the song.

"Maybe I’ve been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
..."

LSS.

I hate Caitlin. She's never going to "fill in" for Marissa (you're never going to rule Harbor, missy!), and The OC will never be the same without her.
Damn you Mischa for wanting out. Boo. But I still love you. Ha ha.

So much for being so addicted to The OC. But there's still Seth (Yum) and Summer to watch out for. Plus I guess its nice to see Ryan cry occassionally while he's reminiscent. Ha ha ha. He looked so cute when he got scared when he realized Marissa died.

Why is "Stay, don't go" her last words? Dapat sana mas mabigat yung lines para mas nakakadala. But its still depressing either way.

Besides, there's still One Tree Hill. Season Three made me cry like hell. But that's a different story.

"...And it’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah
"

1 comments:

Learning from people you barely know.

I used to misunderstand her. Like, she's the type of person who puts herself on a pedastal. I tried being friends with her at first but then she rejected my invite. I wasn't mad or anything, but I was wondering what could possibly be wrong with me, that she couldn't even give me a chance to be her friend.

And then "Big Brother" happened.
I was really in shock, because I never thought something like this could happen to me, when I'm not even famous. I mean, why would someone want to ruin my reputation? What have I done wrong?

And then comes the lightbulb.
I have trusted easily.
I used to think that sharing your everything with people all over the world wasn't something I should be careful of. Thoughts like, "who would want to do that?" would always pop in my head. Post "Big Bro", I have learned one very important lesson : That being overfriendly has its downside.


Define traumarama.


I PMed her in Multiply saying that the experience changed the way of how I saw things and that I understood her now. And this time, I wasn't expecting a reply or a "thank you" or whatever. I mean, I can't blame her (of all people) to be so trusting anymore.

Months later, she finally gave me a chance. I guess she stumbled on my "Big Bro" entry and she then told me she could totally relate. That's really nice of her.

Ellen is right. Its better for people to see you as someone who isn't approachable rather than someone...vulnerable or gullible. People always feed off the vulnerable ones. You have to appear as someone "like this". I guess its okay for people you don't know to say really mean things or judge you because what they say is actually pointless because they don't know you in the first place. Heck, they don't even know when your birthday is, what's your middle name, and if your nostrils get bigger when you cry.

And now, because of her, I am reminded of this one code that could disable the right-click function. I used it in my old blog, but lost the code (credits go to Bullish1974. Thanks for that, man. I miss reading your bs everyday). I searched for the tag online, and now its back. YAY.

I still find it hard rejecting people's invites. But I have to do something about it. Its not that you're accusing them of being capable of ruining your life, its just that its hard to trust again.

Its only happened to me once, what more if half the world would use your photos in all the evil things they could think of? The posers are already irritating to begin with, what more with these mongrels who use your photos for sex? That's seriously fucked up.

The things people do.

And so, to "my girls" (haha feeling) - Chesca, Patty, Carissa, Mika, Saab and Ellen... and everyone else who has been victimized by the fucked up minds of the new generation... Pairalin na ang instinct. I've learned that you really have to be picky of the people you should be nice to.

And yes, you don't have to please everybody.

So thanks again, to these girls I've met online, who I've learned to trust, and who have also learned to trust me.

3 comments:

Blackbag Heaven.

When you're older it seems like there's no excuse to cry over what people think of as "little things".

Moving on is never easy. Its never been easy to me. I couldn't stop wondering why today can't be just like Sunday I've gotten used to. I still can't believe that one of the days I've dreaded the most is already happening. I'd do anything to have those days back again and I would have never done anything stupid to make each day spent with Andrew a happy one and I wouldn't have let the day end without giving him the assurance that he deserves, of how much he really means to me.

Most of the time I wished that I could cut this place just as if I was slicing a cake and I'd take it with me because this really has been my home.

I don't think anyone else will ever love this place like I did, like I will always love.

And now I sit here on the corner of my room, silently wishing I'd just wake up and this is all just a bad dream. That when I open my eyes, all of my things are still in place. My dreamcatcher still hangs on the ceiling. My side of the floor is still messy. I can still hear Andrew and his room mate playing Smackdown in his dorm. That I'm just a whistle away. The airconditioning still leaks at night. Weekends are spent with no one else but the love of my life. I still sleep at 3 AM with my Polca 8 (and Polca 1) girls. I still worry about Elementary Statistics. That everything is normal, and exactly the way it used to be. Of how I want it to be.

If only I could just...take it all back. But now that I can't, I wish I could just forget all about it. I wonder why it can't be that easy.

- October 29, 2006
1:48 P.M.
Polca Six

I barely have photos of myself smiling here. And I do look wasted because I'm going through really tough times.


All my stuff are packed in black bags. Kinda sad and funny in a way.




I couldn't believe it was my last night.




A silly photo of myself frowning in the bathroom.




Just something I drew that night, Peyton-inspired.




I wrote my name on the matress as a sign of owning it. I will always own this freakin' matress!




Maybe I can just stay here...




The prettiest door.




Me without Andrew.




I will miss staring at this dorm




We used to lay on my dirty comforter and play Tong Its by the grass in front of Andrew's dorm.




Andrew and I would talk by the dorm's gate and stargaze. Its where all the "ligawan" happened!




I will miss you, Kittycets!




The dorm is just as empty as I am.


I found it so hard to stop the tears from falling. Funny I thought my Mom would find it silly that I was crying over something like this. Though I'm sure she understands, but it really is just a big deal to me, bigger than what most of you would think.

I always thought that my Mom would understand me better. But somehow, after all these years, the person who knows me (now) is Andrew.

This one night, I was hugging him and crying in his arms, and he was just quiet but he was stroking my hair and running his hands at my back. He just let me cry there. And I think that was one of the days I will never forget. Andrew just sitting there, holding me, drying my tears and telling me that everything will be alright.

I told you. He may not be perfect, but he's trying so hard for me.

And with all this distance between us, I can only think of one thing: Carrie Bradshaw. And in the words of this one liberal, old-fashioned mentor of mine, I quote...

"Distance makes us closer."

3 comments:

Five Five?

Now tell me how can I get that tall to join this!?

It would be a dream to be a part of that!

I guess I have until the 30th of November to pray. I have until the 29th to think about it. Should I give it a shot? Even when I'm like, 5'2"? My height has never been a problem to me, and I hope people can see that too.

Should I? Or is it better that I don't try so I won't get hurt. But hey... people need failure to succeed. If I don't get it, then its not for me. God has better plans. If I do, then that has to be good news.


Do you think this will be enough for Ruffa Guttierez?


Ha ha. So much for "putting yourself out there".

Oh please, God.

Tingin niyo ba makapal yung mukha ko for thinking about joining? I need your honest opinions. Tell me what you think, people.

7 comments:

You gotta chop-chop, missy.

Spending all your money
Ain’t it funny how the time goes by?
First you start believing
Then you’re leaving for no reason
And you’re wondering why
So till the morning breaks
Go and make your mistakes
Don’t be surprised if your head hurts
Life is for the living, the forgiven and for leaving town alive

Whisper in the ways
Watching days and moving on
You wake up every Monday then suddenly it’s Sunday
And the week is gone
So till the morning breaks
Go and make your mistakes
Don’t be surprised at the sunrise
Life is for the living, the forgiven and for leaving town alive

Oh, do you wonder where it starts
Where it ends
What you find around the bend
Oh, do you wonder where she’s from
Where she goes
No one knows
Now and then you wonder
Why you’re spending all your money
Ain’t it funny how she walks on by?
She had you all believing
Now she’s leaving for no reason
And you’re wondering why

So till the morning breaks
Go and make your mistakes
Don’t be surprised if your heart hurts
Life is for the living, the forgiven and for leaving town alive

Oh, do you wonder where it starts
Where it ends
What you find around the bend
And oh, do you wonder where she’s from
Where she goes
No one knows
Now and then

Oh, do you wonder where it starts
Where it ends
What you find around the bend
And do you wonder where she’s from
Where she goes
No one knows
Now and then you wonder

Why life is for the living, the forgiven and for leaving town alive
Life is for the living, the forgiven and for leaving town alive



- Leaving Town Alive, Bethany Joy Lenz

Go figure.
Will post a long, sentimental entry tomorrow. As soon as I'm done with all the hoolabaloo. There's a lot to deal with. And I mean, A LOT.

I can't even go to Elan's halloween party on the 31st. I already have a costume prepared. And besides, Nans, Mika and Cham won't be there.

For the meantime, I'm singing this song and wishing my boyfriend was a hug away. And then the world will be better.

I miss you, Andrew. You're my everything, and without you, I just feel so restless.
Please hug me right now.

Time does fly fast.

0 comments:

There's no place like home.

(This entry was typed offline. October 18, 2006.)

The hardest part about having a home, is having too many homes.

I have four different homes. I was born in Muntinlupa which was next to San Pedro Laguna. I stayed in Laguna for 5 years with my grandparents and cousins. I didn't remember much, but I remembered all the good times we spent. Going out with my cousin Chi, not to mention in matching outfits. We were always out, spending time together. I also remember my Mom taking me to Greenbelt to have lunch and that chocolate store a few steps away from Mushroom Burger. The cashier was always so nice to me that buying chocolates got even sweeter.

At age 5 I found it difficult to move out of Laguna to live in Palawan with my Dad's parents. Life was a lot more simple there. Little things make me happy, like watching my favorite movie while munching on ice cream or taho at 6 AM right after simbang gabi with Ate Joy while our video shop was still closed. I had friends and frenemies. I had my foot operated there, thanks to the needle that was stuck near my heels. That's where I met Jason, the forever love of my life. That's where my family had our first house. That's where my Papa Loy spent the last few days of his life. That's where I turned our house into a zoo.

At Eleven, Pops' petition of having us move to Jeddah was granted, and we left at 1997. It felt weird being there. As soon as I got down from the plane I was tearing up. I was confused. Was it probably because I missed everyone back home, or was it because of the humid air? Either way, I remembered everything clearly. The moment I got into the car, up to the time I saw the mall right in front of our villa closed. I remember going up the stairs to an almost empty flat, and a room which was filled with a double-sized bed and the moonlight coming from the bare window.

When I left Jeddah, I hid my emotions. I barely took a second look around the house, and my room. I've always been attached to the walls. Attached to the smell. Attach to the feel of the carpet on my floor. Attached to the bed. Attached to everything that took witness - that saw ME. The real me. I've had an attachment to the rooms that I actually end up feeling that the walls have actually been protecting me. Cradling me. These four walls have seen the real me but never spoke a word about me. They're just there, listening. Without judgment. Without question. Just listening. Just listening. That made it harder for me to leave.

Jeddah has been home to me, it shaped me into the dramatic teenager that I have been. Its where I realized I wanted to be a model. Its where my family and I became complete again. Its where I experienced having both of my parents always there for me. Where I experienced being what its like being a daughter to a father. The scolding and the slapping. Its where Pops molded me into being a gadget freak. Thanks to the many times he's surprised me with a gadget on my bed, or on my couch.

Moving to the dorms at Dasma was difficult. Both of my parents are in Jeddah, my grandmum was in Laguna, the only family I have in the country, and my parents still decide to house me in a dormitory.


I will miss messing up my already messed-up side of the room.



The first thing I see when I wake up everyday - the dreamcather I've had since high school.


I cried on my first night here, feeling restless. There's no one to turn to. No one really knows me here. There's going to be a lot of adjustments. A whole lot more of adjustments. And then being a true Cancerian that I am, I made the environment adjust to me, rather than me adjusting to the environment. I decorated my part of the dorm to make me feel like home. Home being Jeddah. All my stuff is here now. And since Andrew and I got together, I barely went home on weekends, so we'd get to go out on dates more often.


It holds most of my favorite things.


If Jeddah turned me into a dramatic teenager, Dasma turned me into an adult. I can say I've experienced the toughest parts of my life here. Dealing with so many things. Since Andrew is the only person I can turn to, all my attention is on him, which made me REALLY attached to him. It was difficult for me at first because I was so KSP.
It wasn't until I got close with my dorm mates, Roch, Upper and Camille. But when they all left, I was back to being all uber-emo and crap. And then I met Kat, Anna, Jhen, Tsik and Pao. Everything changed then. I finally had friends I can see at the end of the day to talk about all sorts of things. I felt like we could all relate.

I'm leaving so much behind here. DASMA IS MY HOME. I did things on my own here. I committed my mistakes here. I fell in love here. I turned 18 here. I turned 20 here. I was here when I started modeling. I would do anything just to stay here. But I can't. For my parents, I can't. But if it was for my friends, and Andrew...as long as they'd stay here, I'd stay here. Things could've been this way. But its not. And it won't.


Its going to be hard adjusting, missing ordinary nights like this, by Andrew's dorm window.


I'm leaving home. I'm leaving the one place that really sheltered me.
Four years. Four years of mostly pain. That bittersweet feeling of wanting pain. Here. All here.

I still want to end up staring at the same ceiling, seeing the same scotch tape stains on the walls. Same hanger full of wet underwear. Same airconditioning that leaks at night. Same bed full of pillows. Same couch full of clothes and school papers.

Everyone's left. Everyone packed. But me.

3 comments:

Just cause.

Sometimes, you can't help but wish you could grab them by the balls so hard until it either turns blue or end up crushing them.

Then maybe they'd get it.

0 comments:

It bites hard.

And me, I still believe in paradise. But now at least I know it's not some place you can look for, 'cause it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life when you're a part of something, and if you find that moment... it lasts forever...

- Richard, The Beach






Because I can love him forever.





I miss Andrew. Daydreaming has never been this painful. Sometimes, you take advantage of things that are always there. And somehow, in some stupid way, we realize the true value of a person when you're no longer an inch away.

2 comments:

An almost bonafide rockstar.

I'm back.

Just like any comeback a rockstar would make, like Kate Moss after her heroin addiction, or even Dirk Diggler.

I'm back.

0 comments: