Showing posts with label Story of My Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story of My Life. Show all posts

Ma, Pa, Thank You!

I was not born with a silver spoon.

In fact, I wasn't born with any spoon at all. I remember being poor. But I don't remember how it feels like to be poor, I just remember being loved. Looking back to where we came from, I grew up with hand-me-downs and that being treated with a slice of pizza would already mean the best day ever.


We also didn't have a house of our own, so it's no surprise that we moved quite a lot. From one church parsonage to another to the squatters area in Claveria to the shady slums of Piapi Boulevard to the outskirts of Puan, it's not a wonder living in those dog eat dog communities that I developed this astig (badass) personality. However, I was raised well. My dad worked two jobs, he's a church pastor and also a government employee. My mom, a public school teacher, who had to work to a far-flung area also sold ice candies and yemas for extra. We definitely had tough times. We almost had nothing but like I said, we have LOVE.

How to be you po?

How to be u po?

That's one of the comments I often receive whenever I post something on Facebook or sometimes here on my blog. I'm not a celebrity or something. But I believe every blogger who has a decent amount of followers has certainly experienced the same.

Not that I think our readers and followers worship our curated and seasoned lives on social media. But then, I think it's fun to answer that infamous question once and for all.

How to be me nga ba?  Here are 39 ways:
Seriously, you would never want to be me

To be me, you have to look younger than your age and act younger than you look.

To be me, in this world of gandang-gluta you should be that proud morena who wouldn't mind getting even darker because you will spend most of your days hiking a mountain or swimming at the beach.

To be me, you shouldn't be afraid of spiders, snakes, horror movies, being alone, blood, needle, or 49 missed calls from your mom.

But a sight of frog should scare you enough to leave you pale and rigid.

To be me, you should hoard notebooks and pens and (almost) never use them.

To be me, you should be messy and disorganized in everything except your bookshelf.

And you should read a lot of books too.

To be me requires a lot of neurons because you will be interested with a lot of things like Geography, Astronomy, and Anatomy.

But you should hate Math.

To be me, your wardrobe consists only of shirts, pants, and sneakers. You're no fashionista. Deal with it.

But you can slay a dress when the situation calls for it.

To be me, you have to sneeze and burp loud enough for everyone across the room to hear.

To be me, a boredom-strikes kind of selfie done once a month is not bad and should be enough. Take selfies only when you're on a date with Mother Nature.

To be me, you should have a weird obsession for pandas, penguins, and potatoes.

To be me, you should not like dairy products such as milk and cheese. But you love yogurt and cream cheese just because they are sour.

To be me, you should have an obvious liking for bacon, green salads, nilagang okra with bagoong, tomato ketchups, sashimi, vinegar, and onions.

To be me, you should eat a lot. And never get fat.

To be me, you should love dogs and cats. And you also fancy exotic pets like a tarantula, a bearded dragon, a caracal or a serval - you should own at least one of these.

To be me, you should always be active and play sports.

And be equally lazy otherwise.

To be me, you should always be late. Except on those 4:00 am assembly time of planned hikings and other outings.

To be me, you roll your eyes on KPOP, Korean Dramas, Twilight, reality shows, and anything that makes the girls go gaga.

You shouldn't even be watching TV.

To be me, you should be the loser everyone thinks who has not tried Starbucks yet.

And those beautiful Starbucks planners don't excite you because you're too spontaneous, planners simply don't work for you anymore.

To be me means being a huge fan of Harry Potter. You should read all 7 books and watch all 8 movies a thousand times and still not outgrow it.

To be me, you should be able to quote the whole Mean Girls movie or else you can't sit with us.

To be me, you should know how to speak Bisaya, Ilocano, and Ilonggo other than Tagalog and English.

To be me, you should have a green and dirty mind. But you should not have a foul mouth. You do not cuss nor curse others.

To be me, you should do fine with 3-4 hours of sleep daily.

To be me entails a lot of guts. You are a thrill-seeker and you get excited at the sight of a mountain's knife edge or a 50-foot cliff. And you do not hesitate.

To be me, you should have high tolerance for pain and higher tolerance for bullshit. You should not get mad easily and petty annoyances should not bother you.

To be me, you have to be confident. Which means...

You should not give a fuck about what people say especially when it comes to singing. You are tone-deaf but you will sing your heart out when you are given the floor on a videoke night. And you're not afraid to sing Backstreet Boys, Westlife, or any mushy boy band that people deem as corny and uncool.

To be me, you should have the quick wits to rebut any argument, counter offensive punchlines without being offensive, and contradict anything you think is stupid.

To be me, you should not fantasize love stories as seen on movies or those plotted by Nicholas Sparks but you are a hopeless romantic.

To be me, you have to live simply but would love to take on any complicated challenge.

To be me, you should have the same exact DNA as me. And you know that's not going to happen.

And a single blog post cannot cover everything how is it to be me because it's freakin impossible, ridiculous, and no amount of words can describe how wild and crazy I can get.

Simply put, if I have to sum up everything I've written here, it only means to be me is to simply be yourself. Gasgas na ang linyang ito but it holds true all the time.

You are your own kind of beautiful. You are your own quirk. You are you. And there's no other way to put it.







Of Birthdays and Testicles

I never really look forward to my birthdays. My 20s isn't all that awesome and isn't really my favorite decade. Climbing the hills of my 30s isn't that glorious either. At least, that's what the internet told me.

My face has been slammed with those "30 Awesome Things to Do When You Are 30", or "You'll Regret It If You Haven't Done These 30 Things Before 30", or "10 Life Lessons People Should Learn Before They Turn 30", or "10 Things Successful People Do By Age 30" yadda yadda. I never really read the entirety of such listicles because my attention span extends only up to 3 list items and the rest would already sound gibberish knowing I have miserably failed.



Ako Si Jun-jun

My second name was derived from my birth month. So if I were born a boy, I would most likely be named June. And perhaps will be given a nickname Jun-jun. Which would make me cringe the same way I cringe when I think about the fact that some people still call me Jane-jane. Ugh.

I have always wondered, what would it be like if I were, indeed, Jun-jun? Just a few weeks ago, I found this beard and mustache toy scattered in our house, so I tried it on just for the heck of it. Add a bonnet and tsaraaaaan!

Presenting, Jun-jun:


My Life as a Blogger and Other (Not so) Recent Shiznits

I have over 50 drafts to date and not one of them is worth publishing anymore. Panis na kasi.

I don't know if I should feel bad about that or the fact that I got more stories still waiting to be written (cue: I Can Wait Forever by Air Supply). The blogging wells could run dry sometimes and I have a few things to blame. One, I am busy. And by busy, I mean, I do a lot of things that has nothing to do with productivity. Two, I have never failed at procrastinating. Three, blogging on a mobile device is absolutely frustrating.

But none of that really matters. No one's holding somebody a hostage to get me to write. So it's not really a big deal. Heck, the word deal should not even be brought up here. On the other hand, I feel like I am the one being taken hostage by this blog and it is demanding me to write something - and it does not matter if it is sensible or not. Damn you, blog. Why don't you just leave me alone?!

I can always quit though. It will save me the pressure of having to write something regularly that's not of a disposable value. But I won't. Whenever I am asked why I blog, I always give one solid reply. So if you are waiting for me to answer "because I earn from it" and expect me to talk to you about monetization strategies and shit, you picked the wrong girl. I have kept ads off my site. I find them annoying but not the same way those bakit-kung-sino-pa-ang-corrupt and drama-lang-walang-trabaho ads get into my nerves. But still, no one likes pop-ups and flashy banners, so I think I am kind of nice to spare you that one.

But I know you will not also buy my overused and overrated line, I blog for expression. Though I do love to express myself explicitly sometimes because I would explode if I won't be able to.

Blogging for expression is only half the truth. Of course, there's more to that story. The other half is divided into: one, I love the attention I get from it. Not everyone might openly admit it, but truth be told, any blogger would want readers and their attention. Otherwise, we would have just kept a private journal. And two, there are those little cherries on top of a pretty icing on a three-tier black forest cake which we can also call, the blogger perks.

As a small scale blogger who writes only about her misadventures, mundane activities, and what grinds her gears, I get to enjoy free passes, VIP seats, free dining, free trips and accommodation, free access to paid and premium services, gift certificates, free gadgets and so much more in an exchange for verbal diarrhea - the only diarrhea that I fervently enjoy. Although most of the time, I just get them with no strings attached.

The first two months of 2016 have really been great. Blogging has been slow but it was great. And believe it or not, it was not just all about the huge raid of freebies here and there. Blogging became a gateway to a lot of my life's little and even big accomplishments. And I am really grateful for that. To name a few are:

1. First and foremost, I finally took my commemorative trophy home. :)
Bloggys 2015

It took 3 months before I finally got my hands on these. I relished the few minutes of ecstasy when these were handed to me before my feelings got taken over by annoyance to the overwhelming Manila traffic.