I once trimmed my bangs back when YouTube tutorials did not exist yet. I wanted to sport the same bangs like the celebrity most kids looked up to - she's no other than the legendary mother of all jologs:

I already told myself a million times that I'll never ever take any advice from Google whenever I feel something unusual in my body. It's a terrible idea. But if you knew me very well, then you'd know what I would do. And I did what I shouldn't have.

I have a pancreafuckintitis.

Last Monday was the first time I ever had a blue cheese and I almost gagged in front of scholars, businessmen, and the Australian ambassador to the Philippines. But since everything else on my plate was utterly delicious, I was able to compose myself, swallowed the cheese whole and immediately stuffed my mouth with the best Australian pie I ever had before disaster could ever happen - afraid that I may never be invited to such event again and be remembered as the girl who caused ruckus just because she cannot eat cheese (as if the overwhelming judgement I face regularly as someone who doesn't love cheese is not enough).
I cannot fathom how people could eat a mouthful of blue cheese as if it was just a chocolate or something. Cheeses cries! I should have just kept my cheese hatred in silence because I have been answering the same question over and over again since day one, how come you don't like cheese? Telling people you don't like cheese is like telling a devotee you don't believe in their god and they will spend all day persuading you to see the light.

I think my cat, Appa, thinks I am super adorable that he decided to bite me. Well, if I had it my way, that's how I would show my fondness to Jan too. Except, there will be no bleeding.

Appa is actually sweet and affectionate. He follows me wherever I am. He sits on my lap whenever I work. Snuggles beside me when I'm on my bed. And right now, alcsfnhacflhan ;j;dh;jhb[dtu[ he's helping me write this post. Awww... thank you so much, buddy! His sweetness makes me forget that cats are naturally shady characters. Perhaps, he was actually trying to murder me because his breakfast was not served on time. I did not see him the whole day, so I can only assume he's plotting his next move after a failed murder attempt.

But if my cat did not kill me, the rabies shots will. Google simply told me that one vial costs more than a thousand pesos and I need at least 3 shots for it. 4 if he's proven rabid (which I think he's not. I believe he's just a murderous, raving lunatic). The cost did give me a heart attack but not close to killing me though. Try harder, Appa.

The past week until today has been the Mondayest week ever. To be honest, it felt like I am stuck in an episode of The Walking Dead where everything nasty and ugly is chasing you and badly wants you dead (and here I am talking as if I watch TWD). For more than a week, I really thought the universe hates me because nothing seems to go right. I was already on the verge of becoming a nutcase. Then Columbia happened.