I went to bed before midnight, groggy from taking Neozep, but was still awake past 2 am because my mind was whirring with thoughts on my passions and future. I was tempted to text my friends to beg them to hang out so I could vent, but I didn't have the guts to text people at two in the morning.

Then I finally fell asleep thinking that maybe those thoughts were only for that night, that I need not bother anyone, that maybe things would be a lot clearer in the morning.

This morning I was late for class for the first time, even though I left the house the same time as always.

Today was the most boring class EVER. A classmate said I looked so sad, all I needed were teardrops to complete the effect.

I had a snack meal for lunch and didn't go hungry.

I bought a new calculator, the latest model allowed for the board exams, even if my old calculator was working perfectly fine. My principles took a backseat.

I went to get a haircut at my usual salon. The guy who shampooed my hair asked me if I just came from work. Er.

I was the only customer there. They were playing MJ songs. My usually talkative stylist was grumpy today.

I told him to give me the exact same cut as the last time. Apparently "last time" was almost 2 inches shorter than I remembered. I ended up looking like a Utada Hikaru wannabe.

I felt like I looked like a guy and went to buy something extremely girly to compensate.

I decided to look around for some stuff I've been looking to add to my wardrobe for some time, didn't find ANY of them. (On another note, PRP are selling these exact same Forever21 wedges. I thought about getting them for myself as a birthday gift, but decided not to since I already have a pair of black wedges, though not as cool as these.)

On my way home I saw one of my close friends from elementary school and her mom. We haven't seen nor talked to each other since my debutante party when I turned 18. We chatted for a bit and it turns out she's already on her second job.

I joined my parents for dinner for the first time in years.

I told my mom about seeing my friend. She asks me if I asked my friend for her phone number. I said no, since she's my contact in both multiply and ym. Mom then starts a conversation with dad on how rude my generation is because we were raised by the Internet, and that we've forgotten proper human interaction.

I remembered why I liked eating dinner alone.

The thoughts I had last night never left me all day.

Nabobother ako.

I was about to vent on some issues affecting several parties. Then I found myself hesitating because some of those parties would take my vents personally, as attacks. And some of those people are my friends. And/or potential friends. Then I beat myself up with thoughts of,

"WTF, this is whhhyyyyyyy you started blogging in the first place!"

I've found that personal blogging is a paradox. By choosing the internet as my medium I'm granted some level of animosity. I can opt to never post pictures/videos of myself. I can use an alias. I can disguise dreams and ideals as real life--after all, you readers wouldn't know.

But by the nature of writing about myself, I've exposed my innards in a manner more grossly intimate than say, television. Designers have capitalized on this by inventing barriers like, "friends only" or "password-protected", but all that does is create a form of elitism among the readers. What's worse is that most of these barriers offer only single-level protection, which means I can't be selective on who gets to read my entries, whether its my "Best friend forevaaaahhhh!!!" or "Oh, that friend I made the other day... What was her name again?"

Multiply has offered multi-level protection for its bloggers (ex. friends, family, online buddies...) but that's only because the nature of the site is "social networking", NOT blogging per se. Meaning you will be forced to filter your entries because of the sheer amount and background of contacts, not because you're wary about your content. Note, contacts. Not readers. Also, note forced. I don't like being forced to do anything, especially when it has to do with writing.

Back to my issues. Am I allowed to blog them?

(my thoughts in red)

From my entry a few days ago,

"Watch what flies in the window on or just after January 8. Whatever new projects come up, they will arrive out of the blue and surprise you. There's a good chance you will be at the right place at the right time."

PHAK Susan Miller.
You do NOT call having an allergic reaction to some unknown new thing AND getting conjunctivitis being at the right place at the right time.

(Geez, I seem to be on a mad posting spree today. Please do cooperate as my swollen cheek + medications are leading me to be easily amused and therefore finding things easily blog-worthy.)

You know how kids are, right? They ask you silly questions which you think are absolutely absurd, but when you look at them and their big, innocent eyes you can't help but laugh because you know they're just seriously curious. Bill Cosby totally capitalized on this with "Kids Say the Darndest Things".

Obviously my two younger siblings are no exception, but when he reached the age of seven, our youngest, Joshj, seemed to ask less of these questions and replaced them with more science-related ones--"Hey, `te Dang! Did you know that so-and-so lizards can live in extreme blahblahblah... It's so cool, right?"

That's why when he asked me this today I was totally caught off guard:

"`Te Dang, when you grow old, can I pull your hair out?"

Err, WHAT?


Now I don't know how, but this led me to look up something I've long forgotten: my very first website. I made "Bloodtypes" as a requirement in Comp Sci during my freshman year in high school, and prior to that I had no knowledge in html whatsoever. Heck, I'll admit it; I used a WYSIWYG program to design the site.

I look at it now and I'm overwhelmed with embarrassment. The poor organization, the cheeky fonts, all the crazy animation, and lavendeeerrrrr?! Gawd. And while my memory of the site in its prime years are blurry, I'm pretty sure it wasn't as overrun by ads as it is today. Nor did I have poker, fishing, and loan entries in my guestbook.

Then again I don't have the heart to demolish it. ♥~