20.02.04; Frenetic Friday; 00:33
No. of Friendsters: 130. No. of friends in myspace: 23. No. of Tickle friends: 3. No. of Ringo pals: 0. New virtual nick: Lornadahlrymple. (Isn’t it cute?) No. of absences incurred on the month when I planned to be absent-free: 2. Plans I’m currently cramming for: 1. Masteral degree; 2. Vacation in Leyte and/or Cagayan de Oro. This month’s vaginal event: The arrival of Niña. Impact: Signal 2.
It began like this:
SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
It’s Valentine’s Day once again. The fateful day when opposite tribes, the Saccharine Couples and Bittersweet Singletons, acknowledge co-existence and fight for supremacy. Thank God Cupid put a hole in our chest – we are distracted by the merry task of locating gifts for our partner or friends to even fire up the all-out war. Here’s a peek of gifts that will certainly get a loving nod:
…and was replaced with this:
Definitely not for the coy or pretending to be, these gifts – some of them, cheesy – will give your friend or love one a good laugh or two. Thanks to Lornadahl for helping us find some of these kinky goodies.
Yes, the article I bled for the Valentine’s issue is no longer under my name. I initially felt an arrow slowly piercing its way to bore my back as my editor explains the decision she made. Mine, she said, was too sweet for the aura she wants this article to ooze. Ouch. Allow me to bask on her previous acknowledgement that she liked what I originally wrote and rub my hands together in Satanic glee for her promise to ask the management for compensation. It may be disappointing but I understand I was bereft of an ear when she asked me to add description for each item. And hey, the Thunder from Down Under made it.
Uh-oh. The arrow chose immobility.
On my way to date crazybitch, I changed my lane to go to the loo. Upon entrance, I immediately recognized an old school face. I pretended we’re not sharing the same oxygen. It was hard to contain my shock that inspite of the long queue of impatient kidneys, she was still powdering herself when I came out. Oh, well. Her mannequin countenance way back assured me she’s still in character. What made her even more in character is her pompous route outside with a screeching halt beside me for one, last glimpse of her narcissistic, attention-hungry self.
Why should I feed her ego? I went on and applied a coating of my lip gloss with lavish amount of care. There is no way I would cease from what I’m doing and shower her with inquiries as to how smooth her career path has been. Academic starlets don’t deserve my 68.44M English pound-worth attention.
Never underestimate the power of google.
X’S: Since my Valentine byline is now a history, allow me to make up for my unpublished acknowledgements:
Special Thanks to DJ, Grace, Mars, Mitch, Ria, Rumeyt, Sheryl, and Vanessa.
Attached (As soon as my tech trauma subsides): My first paycheck as a journalist.