zhinesade's surreal world

everything about nothing

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Technophobia

per dictionary.com:
[tek-nuh-foh-bee-uh] –noun; abnormal fear of or anxiety about the effects of advanced technology.

what? did you say that was exactly what i had?

such a genius.

and I work for an IT company.

darnit.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Passiva Aggressiva

I live in a land called Passiva Aggressivaand I am the Queen.

I've thought about this during the lull in between overtime and my swift cab ride home, and I'm ready for the whole world (or whoever cares haha) to know that I have a blog. Me. Zhinesade. Allan. We are one and the same person. I was planning to put up pics of me from when I was ultra-thin(parang modess haha) to when I was abusively overweight, to today (uhm, I stopped whining about my weight and actually did something about it).

However.

Things happened. And I think they're more important than talking about myself directly. So I'll express my feelings and tell you the stories in pictures.

She looks the way I feel. Say hello to Poch. One of my closest friends. Sh'e leaving for Ireland pretty soon, and I'm at the verge of devastation. Not because she's leaving, but because her life is moving and mine seems to have stopped a year ago. Hello, passive-aggressive me. Welcome to my life.

This is me with all of my office team mates. We all posed in greenhills, on the last night (or day) of three of our teammates (wow, my english is terrible.. blame it on lack of sleep). Anyway, I know I sound incoherent, and it's mostly because I love this team, and will not stand by as we decimate into nothing because of Singapore. Ahem. Haha. More on that later next time.

This is me and the Hot Onshore Peeps, vacationing in Subic. We did an overnight thing, where we mostly ate and slept, with occasional drinking and sound-tripping. It was fun and ultimately relaxing. Just what the doctor ordered after a 60+ hour workwee (yes, 5 days, I abhor working on weekends).

This is Khail, with my eldest sister. I love this picture. No, it wasn't edited. The blurriness was caused by my sudden backing away(I thought I stepped on my dad's toes hehe). Taken on my dad's birthday, it reminds me that we have a small boy carrying the family name now. Whoopee, he makes me smile, even after having less than five hours of sleep. He truly is a miracle.

Finally, this is our small despedida for my teammate Gelyn. We used to be sub-team mates (long story), so the former subteam mates got together and "ate to her success", pun intended hehe. I lvoe this picture, because we're all soon going our separate ways, but the bond we had from way back is still there. Just reminds me why I stay with my company even though the money situation isn't the best.

Other Anecdotes:
I'd like to say hurrah to me, because I've lost 10 lbs. Woohoo. I'm trying to lose more, don't worry. My goal is to be at a hundred pounds by November 1 :D With the workload and all the resignations, I think it isn't a stretch.

I'm also proud to say that my red-faced ex-boyfriend is now a senior manager (I told him I'd mention it on my blog, because I'm so goshdarn proud of him haha). Congrats, Sandy! You really are an awesome fella!

I read something in Inquirer a few days back. And this sosyalera writer was trying to discuss monogamy blah blah. She used some pretty deep words, but NOTHING. Using big words doesn't make you a good writer. It just means you either have a helluva good dictionary or college-level english writing skills. Haha. Blah.

I might be physically dependent now (i.e. love to have company, etc.), but I am more emotionally independent than I was before. Granted that I live in Passiva Aggressiva, I survive. I think my EQ just got a bit higher.

On the side, I have 2 dudes I hang out with now most of the time -- Miken and Lester. They're awesome drinking buds. They treat me like a woman friend should be treated, but they also share 'one of the boys' stories all the time. It's like SATC, without the drama. I love it! We also now have an official tambayan, Kafebaresto. People from QC, try it. The food is good, they have big servings, the band is awesome, and the staff is way-friendly. Also, Romnick Sarmienta and wife Harlene Bautista own the place, so if you're a fan (or a previous fan), come over. They're always there. We're always there too, haha.

'Til the next time I have 20 minutes to spend on writing.

P.S. How 'bout you guys? What's up with you?

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Like a Moth to a Flame


Note: Something I wrote a while back...

They say looking back always yields 20/20 vision.

I read some old emails today and came across a post-break-up correspondence with an ex. You would think that after such a long time of having broken up (count the years, baby), the letter would come across as cheesy or pathetic, but it didn’t turn out that way.

It was an intense letter, touching the core, naked to the bone.

It brought back memories of how that relationship began, how it progressed, how it roller-coastered into a train wreck you couldn’t take your eyes off of, and how I eventually got up and, miracle of miracles, walked away.

I wasn’t unscathed. I had bruises internally and externally. My bravado, for the first time in my life, faltered. I had a meltdown of sorts, and neither Discovery Channel, Cartoon Network, nor ABC Dramas could give light to my days. I was hopeless. I wished I was dead. I was drowning, arms were reaching for me, but I didn’t want to be saved. If this was how intense love ended, I wished I never experienced it ever again.

I cursed the man, I cursed the day we ever met, I cursed my heart. I should have known better, but I didn’t. I lost hope in life and love for a time, although my capacity to fake smiles and laughs fooled a lot of folks.

It wasn’t until a full two years later that the intensity subsided. We met up, and suddenly, there were no bells ringing, no tingling in my joints, no unexplainable awkwardness. There were just two people chatting, talking about their lives and loves.

I still loved this man, this man who showed me how intense a love could be. But now, that man was a memory, and this new guy was just a fragment of that person. Time had changed us and we had changed time.

In those two years, I had another, but my heart, all taped up, could not stand another possible beating, so I didn’t give it my all. I said I did, but deep down, I knew I still wasn’t completely healed from the thrashing my heart previously took. And so we faltered, me and this new guy, and it eventually ended. And I had a tear or two to cry, but it was more out of guilt and frustration than sadness and anger. It wasn’t an intense relationship, and this made it easier for me to let go, to move on.

My diatribe with intensity now over, I’m not quite sure if I want to have another brush with it again. I’ve learned a thing or two about loving and being myself, but it certainly seems a daunting task to face intensity a second time.

I told a friend I wasn’t sure I would survive another one, and that is true. So, if one walked through the door today, would I move toward it?

Most probably, yes.

Like a moth to a flame.