Each city has a story. This one was partly told by a set of pretty blue eyes under the CN Tower. I got lost in those midnight sky amidst a late night drive before drifting apart.
This is it! Rule-bender is finally going up to blog heaven.
This site has gone from expressing my hatred for my boss to becoming an outlet of my frustrations when it comes to matters of the heart.
I knew I have outgrown this blog whenever I cringe at the sound of hearing the word “rule-bender”. I can’t even remember how I came up with that name. From what I know now, when you don’t like the rules, you don’t bend them. You just change them completely.
I’m not shutting Rule-bender down. I’m just keeping this on the side. It sure would be nice to read this from time to time and look how far I’ve grown from then. No more shitty job, no more complicated love problems, no more pretentious advice.
To those who have expressed appreciation of this blog, I’m sorry to say that the blogger who came up with all those shit is not here anymore. People grow, people move on, and people have to deal with their lives without a crappy blog.
But….this is not entirely the end. Who knows? Something better might come along. You know me, I always have some shit to say. And there is no damn way of shutting me the fuck up.
Is this girl reaching out or letting go? Sabi ni Banksy “There is always hope.” Let’s just take it from there.
Thanks to all the readers. Rule-bender is now signing off.
Buti pa ang daga, marunong lumandi.
I can’t flirt. I have been to 107 cities, read 204 books and passed 179 units in college. After 156 menstrual cycles, there is only one thing I’m sure of. I’m a terrible flirt. I guess I haven’t really come to terms with liking someone and forming close friendship with them, only to risk making things horrifically awkward by telling them you like them.
Easy for me to say when after all these years my idea of flirting basically sums up to: a) not looking like a dork b) not being seemingly eager c) not being weird and d) not being creepy in any sense. As you may see, if you use my flirting styles, you really don’t have to do much. But despite all efforts, I eventually failed in applying the flirting techniques that I myself made.
I cannot count how many times I have been romantically affiliated with anyone, not because they’re too many, but because it’s just plain embarrassing to recall. Infants have done better “beautiful eyes” than me. Well, at least I have memorized The Owl and the Pussy Cat when I was five. That was very impressive, I know. Too bad that doesn’t count as flirting.
Abnormal ba ako? Putang ina. Ang tanda ko na, bakit hindi pa rin ako marunong lumandi?
I’m usually a very witty person. Pero pag kaharap ko na yung crush ko, parang naka sleep mode yung utak ko. Kung anu-ano na nasasabi ko para may masabi lang. Word vomit. “Birthday mo pala. Ang galing ‘no?” Eh bakit ba hindi na lang ako nag happy birthday? Bakit ba walang cue cards ang mga wingmen ko? Walang silbi. Hindi ba kaya dapat nandiyan ang mga kaibigan mo para tulungan ka? Moral support my ass. Ang kailangan ko teleprompter. Palibhasa kung sila may Phd na sa kalandian, ako bonus round pa lang.
Perhaps I’m not doing it right. Maybe mind games aren’t for me after all. Eh weird talaga ako eh. What’s the use of the art of flirtation if you’re not being you? On the other hand, kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa? It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Seize the day. No guts, no glory. You only live once. If I can change the world, I would be the sunlight in your universe. Whatevs. I think I’ll just stick to being myself and praying to God that everything will fall where it should be. And I know it will. For what I lack in the art if flirting, I make up for the science of attraction. ❤
Kape
“We started over coffee…”—iyan ang sabi ng isang kanta. At doon nga tayo nagsimula. Itinuring ko ang ilang sulok sa Starbucks Coffee bilang historical landmarks na napag-ugatan ng ating pagsusuyuan. Sa mapait na inumin tayo magkwekwentuhan ng walang kakwenta-kwentang usapan. Mag-aasaran na wala namang patutunguhan. Minsan, sinadya ko talagang bagalan ang aking pag-inom. Dahilan ko lang naman iyon para maiuwi ko ang basurang may nakaukit pa ng pangit mong pangalan.
Wala akong pakialam kung pang-ilang kape ko na sa isang araw. May mga pagkakataon na nasosobrahan ata ako. At sa mga panahong iyon bawal na bawal ako gulatin at baka atakihin ako sa puso. Sobrang pagkabog ng dibdib at hindi na makatulog. Nasobrahan sa kape, nasobrahan sa iyo. Mapa Nescafe man, Mcdo o Starbucks, lahat ng klase ng kape papatulan ko basta kasama kita. Mistulang sugar at cream ka na tila nagpapatamis at nagpapasarap sa kapeng labis ng pait at tunay na nakakaadik. Sa ating pagakakape, nakita ko nalang ang sarili kong nahihirapan na mapahiwalay sa iyo katulad ng hirap na mapaghiwalay ko ang kape at yosi.
Yosi
Hindi naman talaga ako naninigarilyo sa totoong buhay. Naiirita ako kapag naiisip kong ang baga ko ay mistulang squatter’s area na maya’t maya ay nauusukan ng mga smoke belcher at pabrika. Pero nang nakita kitang nagyoyosi, humingi ako ng isa sa iyo. Ang sarap kasi pagsabayin ng kape at yosi. They complement each other. Kaya sa tuwing magkasama tayo, napapayosi na rin ako. Hindi ko namamalayang naaadik na pala ako.
Naalala mo pa ba noong naiwan mo ang isang kaha ng sigarilyo mo? Talaga namang inangkin ko talaga iyon at itinago sa basurang memento na galing sa iyo. At nang nakita iyon ng aking nanay sinabi niya, “Hindi ko ata gusto ang lalaking iyan…He’s bad for your health.” Hindi ako nakasagot.
At tuluyan na nga ako nahumaling sa lintik na cancer stick. Sa pagiging, chain smoker, ako ngayon ay chain smokerer na. Hindi ko na nga alam kung anong putanginang nangyayari at bakit gustong- gusto ko talagang manigarilyo lalu na kapag kasama kita. Minsan nakakalito kung saan talaga ako nahuhumaling. Masarap kasi ang yosi pero masmasarap magyosi kapag ang kasama ko ay ikaw.
Ikaw
Parang eksena sa pelikula kung paano tayo pinagtagpo ng tadhana. Nakakatawa nga eh, nagbabasa ako ng “When God Writes Your Love Story” habang may nakasaksak na earphones sa tenga ko noong pag-angat ko ng mukha, nakita kitang dumaan sa harap ko. Nagkatinginan tayo ng ilang segundo pero nilampasan mo lang ako at patuloy ka sa paglakad mo. Ilang hakbang na ang layo mo noong lumingon ka sa akin. Ngumiti ako sa iyo at nginitian mo rin ako. Doon na nagsimula ang lahat.
Dumating ka sa buhay ko ng hindi ko inaasahan. Pero sa pagdating mo, kasabay noon ang pagbago ng mundo ko. Sa kabila ng pagiging abala ko sa maraming bagay, pagdating sa iyo, nasisira lahat ng plano ko. Hindi ko na napapansin ang oras kapag magkasama tayo. At napupuna ko na lang, lagi na kitang hinahahap. Parang hindi kumpleto ang araw ko kapag hindi kita nakikita. At kahit na lagi kitang nakakasama, mawala ka lang sandali sa tabi ko, miss na agad kita.
Lahat na ng kabaduyan, pumapasok sa isip ko kapag naaalala kita.
Mahal na nga yata kita.
Kahit hindi tama.
Bakit kaya kahit alam natin na nakakasama sa atin ang isang bagay, tinutuloy pa rin natin? Nakaka-cancer ang pagyoyosi, at nakaka-palpitate ang kape, pero na-a-adik pa rin tayo dito. Bakit? Kasi iba ang pakiramdam na nabibigay ng yosi at kape. Kaya kahit masama, kahit alam natin sisingilin tayo ng katawan natin sa panandaliang kaligayahan na iyon, tinutuloy pa rin natin. Kasi sa kasalukuyan, masaya tayo.
Parang ikaw… alam ko na hindi ka nakakabuti sa akin. Alam ko na dadating ang panahon, masasaktan lang ako sa iyo. Pero bakit habang maaga pa, hindi ako umiiwas? Kasi sa ngayon, napapasaya mo ako. Napupunan mo ang ilang taong pagkukulang sa buhay ko. At pinapadama mo sa akin ang mga bagay na akala ko noon, hindi na darating sa akin.
Ikaw ang yosi at kape ng buhay ko. Hindi ko maiwas-iwasan, hindi ko kayang tanggihan, kahit na alam ko na iisa lang naman ang patutunguhan nito – sakit sa puso.
So your late for work and your boss hardly noticed because he came in later than you. You think you are off the hook. Well, not so fast. That is until you get that memo from HR (screw them!) saying you have to explain why the fuck you should not be punished for wasting sixteen minutes of what could have been valuable productive work hours. You list in your head all the possible reason there is. MRT malfunction. Headache. Emergency. The usual. It is just an excuse letter that you have to make, not a short story. But believe it or not, tardiness excuses have been some sort of entertainment for most HR personnel. Here are some of what they have gathered:
1. The biometrics is wrong.
I am currently writing this entry in my head as I encounter yet another awkward first day of work. By my fifth company shift, you would have probably guessed that social interactions, series of introductions, office tours and company orientations would be a piece of cake for me. But no, not me. That’s not going to happen to the queen of awkward right here. Yes, fifth first day of work and I just turned twenty-three. Trust me, I would not be able to get past this stage until a few couple of weeks from now, and my pitcher-load of coffee intake and anxiety-eating is not of helping either.
In the midst of mental writing, I am being interrupted by the instruction of my upcoming tasks for this company. No complaints. I am just taking it all in. After all, that’s what life is all about. A list of meaningful obligations, all vying for our attention.
I started this blog when I was looking for things to do in my spare time of employment. In writing, I can deceive judgmental co-workers into thinking that I am actually working. What started out as an afternoon hobby turned out to be my outlet of passion and recreation. I find happiness in knowing that my useless thoughts could actually reach people all over the world. I find it very amusing that a person is willing to waste his precious few minutes for reading my crap, er, craft. Feedbacks and stats reassure me that I have provided simple entertainment to a lot of people. But above all, I realized it was me who got entertained the most.
I did a screenshot of my stats on its first month. After that, I promised myself not to overly-obsess on figures. Thank you, (imaginary) readers!
This morning, I contemplated on being on hiatus. Unlike my previous job, what I do now requires actual work. I feared I may not have a lot of time on my hand. I shrugged off the idea immediately thinking a passionless life isn’t such a bright idea. I have the strength to stand being a corporate slave for awhile just as long as I can set aside time doing what I love to do. And unlike actual work, this does not have monetary rewards, just pure happiness.
Happiness is also what I felt when I found a PWD Restroom this morning as I enter my new workplace. It was the same kind of restroom I used in my previous office, another outlet where I can “let it all out” when I am “disabled” to work. In this moment of rambling and reflection, I also feel my stress-eating finally kicking in.
Now, excuse me while I wash myself off this restroom. I just had some weird lunch and…ugh forget it! I need to orient myself with this toilet.
So I am writing this a few days after the big shenanigan. By this time, I am hoping that Pacquiao fans have a partially recovered and the Filipino boiling blood had finally died down.
Manny Pacquiao is the best boxer ever – hands down. He has surely made a long way from being a balut vendor to the People’s Champ that he is now. He could knock out any opponent if he could in no time. So when I heard he is going to have a fight with this Timothy Bradley dude, the thought of another hero’s welcome came across my mind. I did not watch the fight. No, really. I was catching up with the Saturday Night Live reruns on another channel and I did not even consider the effort of catching it live. Not much of a sports fan, obviously. But as any other Filipino, I have already assumed the fact that he won. Well apparently, he didn’t.
Everyone was taken aback. I spent my time retweeting hate-sentiments of random celebrities because I, myself, could not even compose what my thoughts are at that moment. Shockingly, I did not know what to say. I watched the replays with the hopes that the decision be adverse and that Buffer retracts the shit he said. Sadly, it was the biggest lie that everyone saw in synchrony. And at that moment, I realized Snoop Dogg was right. That decision was bullshit, mothafucka!
As Pacquiao gracefully accepts his loss, all the rest spat on the match with much disgust. In my attempt to console the melancholy Filipino fighting spirit. I will recount to you why it is good that Pacquiao lost.
Among all things, the show Manny Many Prizes is the silliest thing I have ever seen on national TV. His attempt on acting and hosting is the biggest disgrace on the craft of entertainment. I would like to give him props for Show Me Da Manny but that show named after him only gave him two speaking lines per episode. Let’s not even recall the movies he had made in the past or else I’d be swallowing a mouthful of vomit in no time. I am sure there are lots of ways to help the poor Filipinos and he being an actor is not one of them.
I commend Manny for wanting to share his blessings to his countrymen. Putting up a business might be a good way to uplift the economy but I plead to God that he does not pursue politics anymore. I do not support his ideals in any way, or the little birds ass-kissing their way to the famed athlete. I hope he and Chavit Singson finds the time to read The Common Misconceptions on RH Bill. If he cannot, he can ask his bitch, Buboy Fernandez to read it for him. I am pretty convinced he has done similar favor when it comes to the Bible.
Manny mixes his devotion with politics. The State and the Church are separate entities for a reason. I cannot support a politician who does not support the minority. A decent congressman cannot say, “I represent the Filipinos…except the homosexuals.” Like the poor, if they have the choice to be a part of the majority or be ridiculed, they would probably choose the former. Though he denied quoting Leviticus, I will still quote Jesus, “Let the sinless person cast the first stone.” One name I have in mind — Krista Ranillo.
No need for a flashback on Manny’s womanizing and gambling ways for he is now a changed man. Although a lot of critics blame his loss to his new-found devotion, I think it is sick that you blame religion more than you should blame the Celtics vs. Heat game. I am not sure if Preacher Manny could help him improve his game plan but I am very sure he could help him find himself as a person, and give Jinkee the peace of mind she deserves.
“I believe I won the fight,” Manny said with much conviction on his post-fight interview. I could not agree more. As his fans lose their dignity in the process of enumerating the reasons why the fight is bogus, Manny remained a real class act accepting whatever the judges say. He instead finds comfort in knowing that he is the real winner, and people with open-minds can see it clearly. The way I look at it, he really did win. In victory, he taught us what an ordinary person can achieve. And in defeat, he taught us what a respectable Filipino can stand for. That kind of person deserves a shrine in Monumento. I just hope the misjudgment will serve as a wake up call that he should focus on doing what he does best. He is a good boxer, a damn good one. Let’s keep it that way. When he knocks politics and showbiz out, then he could really get ready to rumble.
Many girls out there are asking: Why am I still single? I’m sure every other girl/woman/lady asks the same question. Pare-pareho tayo ng litanya: “I’m smart, I’m not completely unfortunate looking, I’m funny and I’m willing to commit but WHY THE FUCK AM I STILL SINGLE?” Well, instead of going crazy asking myself that question, I decided to come up with a few answers. I’m not saying I’m drop dead gorgeous and as smart as Marie Curie but come on, every guy I’ve talked to told me they want a smart, witty, sensitive and attractive girlfriend. I’m sure all the other ladies my age possess these qualities and at the risk of being redundant, we all ask ourselves: Why are we still single? Allow me to present the top three theories that sprung from my demented mind:
1. Naghihirap ang bansa natin at bumabagsak ang ekonomiya. Hindi naman kasi ganun kadali ang buhay ngayon di ba? Nagtitipid ang mga lalaki dahil mahal na ang bilihin ngayon. Sa panliligaw palang, kahit sa Dangwa ka bumili ng bulaklak, magkano na ang gagastusin mo. Isipin mo pa ang pang-gasolina papunta doon at ang katakot-takot na traffic. Eh di sana, ipinang-lunch na nila yun hindi ba?
Tapos siyempre dahil kailangan magmukha silang concerned, kailangan lagi nilang tinatawagan at pinapadalhan ng text messages ang nililigawan nila. Isipin niyo nalang yung load na nagagastos nila or yung binabayaran nila sa bill ng telepono. Minsan, demanding pa tayong mga babae dahil gusto natin imported na chocolates or flowers na mamahalin. Kung hindi naman tayo demanding, gusto lang talaga nila magpa-impress kaya mamahalin ang ibibigay na mga regalo/suhol sa nililigawan.
Siyempre, pag naging kayo na, magastos parin. Because of the infamous male ego and pride, hindi pwedeng sagot ni babae ang date kaya si lalaki parin ang magbabayad. Kahit KKB, gagastos parin si lalaki. Sayang ang pera. Even if you love each other that much, love won’t pay for the movies you know. And think of the gifts. Every Christmas, birthday, Valentine’s Day, Anniversary, etc., you have to give your significant other something. Especially pag Christmas kasi sisipsip pa sa magulang, kapatid, pinsan, etc. ng girlfriend/nililigawan at bibigyan sila lahat ni boyfriend/manliligaw ng regalo. Mahirap kumita ngayon dahil mataas ang unemployment rate, mahal ang bilihin at likas na kuripot ang mga lalaki. Hence, females like me have no boyfriends.
2. May mga babaeng perfectionist. Admit it, every female is looking for the perfect man. Apparently, the perfect man does not exist… yet. What are the qualities we look for in a man? Gwapo, mayaman, responsible, mature, sensitive, funny, smart, presentable, gentleman… the list is endless. We have to face the fact that the perfect man doesn’t exist kasi it’s practically impossible to find all these qualities in one man. If we ever do, the guy is gay, a priest or in a realtionship! No, I’m not saying that we have to settle for second best but maybe, just maybe, the perfect guy is out there, we just have to lower the standard a notch. He might not be perfect in every way but his flaws just might be the very reason that you will love him. Because his imperfections may be the reason why he might need the person made for him… for that person to be the one to pick him up when his flaws take him down. I’m not sure if that made sense but I do hope you get the point.
3. The last great theory (and the most likely) of my demented mind is that there are more males born than females every minute of the day. I don’t know what the ratio is now but a couple of years back it was four females to one male. Can you believe that? Imagine sharing one boyfriend with three others. Plus you have to face the fact that maybe that one male wants to be a female. Or that one male devotes himself to God. Siyempre, hindi mo kakaribalin ang Diyos di ba? Or that one male is taken. Would any female want to play second fiddle? I know I wouldn’t.
Patience is a virtue, that’s my mantra. The theories I made up are just there to console me whenever I feel I’m missing out on something because I’m single. Case in point: Valentine’s Day or weddings or family gatherings na hinahanapan ako ng boyfriend. He’s out there somewhere, the boyfriend that at the moment is missing in action. While he’s not there yet, enjoy being single. Sabi nga ng iba, wala pa tayong sakit ng ulo and pag gigimmick, sa parents lang tayo magpapaalam at walang message na biglang darating from a boyfriend asking us where we are, who we’re with and what time tayo uuwi. The perfect guy for me will come along when I’m not looking for it. And when he does, I’m sure everything will be worth the wait.
In response to: The Lies I Tell My Single Self by The Get-a-Life Project
This is it! My obligatory last blog entry as an employee. Frankly, I was about to post an article with a tone of anger and resentment. But I figured complaints never did anyone favor. It never inspired anyone. Doing so would defeat the purpose of putting up this blog in the first place.
I originally allocated this space to say GOODBYE, IDIOT! Now, my awesome talent would never have to cover up for your glaring ineptitude. Nobody likes you and that’s good enough for me. But you will never understand that as much as how delegation of tasks works. You may now proceed with your big gooey ass of a “boss”. Stress on the quote-unquote marks, pun intended.
If there’s anything I would thank her for, it is for pushing me out the hell of mediocrity. She gave me a good story to tell just like how the tale of Little Mermaid would never be a cute story without the part where Ariel got to meet her prince on soil. And yes, she is freaking Ursula, except Ursula has better facial features. I hope you created an accurate mental picture of her with that description.
I could never be kinder in this post. I have so much in mind but I would rather keep it on my own. I pat myself on the back for holding it. (And also, the chance of getting my last paycheck pretty much crossed out the option of letting it all out.) Thank me, bitch.
Enough about the right-hand of Satan, let’s focus on ‘me’ for a second. You know, I could go on forever with my ranting OR I could go on with my dear life. The latter is less waste of a time so….
First Step:
Begin.
What you do in your life is your choice. What you do not do is also your choice. You have the power to do whatever you want in your life. It is your life and your life is short. How dare you not take charge of it. Be happy or find whatever it is that will make you happy. I do hope you find enough courage to believe in yourself and know that you have the capacity to be happy. Don’t pretend you’re okay. Never settle. Whatever justification you have for mediocrity is wrong. Your whole life awaits you. You just have to take that one step. One tiny little step.
| “Never continue in a job you don’t enjoy. If you’re happy in what you’re doing, you’ll like yourself, you’ll have inner peace. And if you have that, along with physical health, you will have had more success than you could possibly have imagined.” |
| — Rodan of Alexandria |
On a side note, I want to thank good God for giving me a chance to take step 1. I feel bad for everyone who wronged me. All of that led me to this. The way I look at it, I won.
The world watched as the sixteen year-old Jessica Sanchez climbed her way to superstardom. The half-Filipino, half-Mexican singer crawled into the Top 2 finalists of the most popular talent-search show by nailing sky-high ballads such as And I am Telling You I’m Not Going, I Will Always Love You and I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing. With her soulful voice and unique renditions, JSan proved the world that she has what it takes to be the next American Idol.
Although the teen sensation has grown major followings from American Idol viewers and voting campaigns has become prevalent, I have my reasons why I wouldn’t vote for her as the next Idol. Here’s why:
First and foremost, voting is not possible outside USA. Even if it is, I’m too lazy to find out how. It’s not her, it’s me.
Second, I believe Filipinos are only rooting for her only because she is a Filipino. I do not have any problem with that. She truly holds the Three Stars and a Sun for us and has shown the world what world-class Filipino talent is. However, this Filipino pride pandemic spreading like a contagion only symbolizes our country’s ignorance and immobility.
The Philippines is truly a home of gifted people. But so are other nations. How many times have we adored a Filipino celebrity solely on talent? Manny Pacquiao has been around for too long as a boxer but it is only when he gained Las Vegas frenzy that everyone started purchasing Pambansang Kamao merchandise and sang with him to the (off-) tune of Sometimes When We Tats. Take Charice for example. No one but a sore loser in an amateur singing contest, beaten down by Mr. Pogi Sam Concepcion who now is…I don’t know, is he still alive? I reckon ASAP Rocks would not even give her a three-minute spot if it weren’t for Oprah’s seal of approval. I raise my middle finger to westernization.
Jessica Sanchez is already our Idol, even if Seacrest will announce otherwise. Americans need not influence our opinion. As she reaches the high notes on the finale, so will the Filipino hopes and dreams. Long after Season 11, she will remain to be an epitome that a small Filipino can truly stand tall.
Filipinos can take ownership for her success. I can attest to that. But while you vote for Jessica because you consider her as a “true Filipino talent” she has already won my heart for being a “true talent – period”.
rule-bender 