Chillin'.

It's not a surprise, I am a chill person.

If you ask anyone who knows me well to describe me in one word most would say, "yeah, she's chill." And if you were to ask my best friend, how I am he'd say, "passive." Meaning, I guess I don't say much unless I really feel like I need to. As if not much emotion is evident unless it's something I'm truly crazy about.

Haha, and yes... I'd have to agree. Those one-word testimonials sounds about right. It's true I really don't say much unless I want to. Unless I feel it's necessary. I feel like it's a hassle for me to talk if I don't want to. Call me lazy or selective, but I just hate talking too much under the unnecessary. To me, it's just a waste of good tongue to be talking about bullshit.

So I write.

Last week, I was talking to my dad about my career choices and we talked for a long while about what I'm doing with my life. Considering I have about a little over a year and half before the real world takes over, he was just giving me that career "talk" that all parents worry about when their sons/daughters aren't pre-med. And as a Filipino parent has always been known to do, he was playing the devil's advocate in this case. He was telling me that he supports me in all I want to do, but again, at the same time feels that this career path of mine isn't something I should pursue completely without a back up plan. It's clear he's worried that my voice won't be heard and that my "chill" and "passive" ways won't get me to where I want to be right away. Basically, he's just throwing me warning signs so I know what to do when my ambitious mind doesn't get me where I want to be.

Which is something I completely understand but I think not many folks understand about me is that I'm a different person when I write.

For some weird reason, I'm not myself when I get a story underneath my belt. I mean, I'm still my shy self and I still hesitate to ask random people questions, but I somehow have this drive in me to just avoid it. I could say nothing one minute, but write a million words the next. It's one thing for me to say something than for me to write it. A conversation I usually wouldn't come across would be the story I can't stop writing about.

I'm on and off like that. I talk too much or too little. It just depends. I'm one person split into two. Simple, I'm a damn Gemini.

So don't worry about me.


My writing is louder than my own words. And it'll get me somewhere.

Game 7: Sharks win.

Goodbye Calgary Flames...Hello Round 2: Dallas

http://sharks.nhl.com/team/app/?service=page&page=NewsPage&articleid=361347

After 13 years of watching the sharks, I finally feel the cup comin' on. My boys are goin' to take Stanley home to San Jose in a few - watch it.

Who didn't know?

WE FRESH.

today.

I feel i just need to breathe this one out.
Last night, I was invited by both my past, and my current i like you to this auction thing...the whole day I planned not to go. Then, night time came around, and I figured why not. I asked my past THREE times to let me know when she was leaving the party, but--obviously, i knew she wouldn't. No matter how many times she said "I'm probably leaving early."
So I'm parked, walking up, and rounding the corner, and...I see my current touching my ex...and hanging on to her keys. Hmm.
I wander a bit, say hello to people. Then decide to leave, because I am angry and disgusted.
I arrive at my car, sit politely inside awaiting my friend, and this rage enters me...BAM.
CRACKED WINDSHIELD. I say, it was part of a hate crime within myself.

So I proceed to TODAY:

Today was bomb motherfucking diggity. I went to the night night maybe @ 5AM. after a night of motherfuckin' debauchery with my fellow mates, met some new kids, and as I like to say-gained new perspective and liking to my current situation. I also rolled into my wonderful apartment to find my housemate just as fucked up as I was. AND IT WAS GREAT.
I walked across the street due to a little sharing/calling in from the pretty girls of Maple Street, have myself a glass of two buck chuckers, and cross my legs with my ciggarettes up to my lips. Listening to Jole sing, and erin saying, "you're agitating the birds".
I awake around 7, then proceed to awake myself again around 11AM after hearing a car alarm go off. I scurry up and look around for my housemate, half knowing she could have left to take photos w/o me...but little did I know she would enter laughing: I just saw these two mexican kids running out, then the cops pulled them over. I just wanted to make sure they weren't getting pulled over for just being 3 mexican guys walking the street, but for trying to jack one of the motherfuckin' cars. But don't worry, Ann, our cars weren't touched.
:]
SOOOOOOOOOO, I drive around town, develop my film w/in the hour and decide to back track to the days my princess Steph and I ventured off too when the days were weary for me in the beginning of the end of my 2.5 year relationship. Which by the way, no matter how many times I asked what the fuck was going on between those two young ladies--they played me well. Yet, my past knows im bomb at intuition/perception and didn't want me to mistake it as the same matching situation of what happened last year, same quarter. And, sadly, it's pretty damn well pieced together.
Anyways, so I'm driving down this road trying to find these bridges and what not when i decide to pull over, and give this photo shot a go. *chuckles* Three cars piled up randomly behind me thinking this must be a Vista point-look at this crazy kid with their SLR-it has to be a hit, a gold mind. No daddies. I laughed as they ran out of their cars, and looked disappointed, specifically at me...and drove off. So I'm driving, thinking about the goodness in my life...when I reach a thrift store. I jolly my way in there..and bam. Get me some goodies, and bam, buy another SLR for $15. Yes, bitch. Take that.
So I get lost, re-enter my household. Stoked off motherfucking life. Most of my shots came out pretty good, while the one that I fucked up on...still made me laugh.
Erin and I drive up to the campus quarters and desperately need to configure three human bodies to form a triangle. BAM. Hello, Lilia, Vanessa, and Corin. Thank you very much. I climb my tree..and get mocked at by three young boys...I scream "dude, dont worry about it, it's for my photo class" they laugh because they think..."don't fall, be careful, knock on wood, haha, see you around"................bitch, please. I'm 5'1, and I can kick you in the face, that is why i climb trees.
We drive down the cemetary, the fog is catching up, moving in. What is this "irreverant" shot...Erin jumps the fence, I'm freaking out looking for those damn First Alarm Security patrol beezies...and Erin is hunched over in a blanket, laughing, staring at two heads.
One said 'WHITE', the other "BROWN'. I must say, that made my fucking month.
we scurry off, make it home safely, eat.
and I go on to do my laundry....
That's right, the cats would pee on my shirt.
& let me motherfuckin' tell you.
Life is so good.

I can't write, or sing, but here's a few lyrics from my new lala poison

"Don't make a memory that hasn't even left quite, yet.

and don't you drown out either. I promise it will get

much easier. Just don't lose yourself in the wreck, in the wreck...

Just don't lose yourself" Tadas,AC '08