19, 18, 17, 16, and 15 to 30

19, 18, 17, 16, and 15, Hell Week: I realize this is cheating since I’m lumping all five days together, though me ranting in 5 separate posts would be immensely annoying - for you and for me.

Some weeks are good, some bad, others are designed to make you wish for death. This was one of those weeks. Death obviously did not come for me, so I experienced a phenomenon that can only be referred to as: Meta-Sucky. Yap, I was pretty much feeling sucky for feeling sucky. Sucks.

Weeks like this cannot be helped, and I know that there will be more hell weeks in the coming years so I might as well accept that shit happens. Repeat after me, shit happens. It’ll pass. Friends (others don’t), happy food (Coke Float), and happy music (Vitamin String Quartet, I owe you fan mail) helps.

21 and 20 to 27

21, Two Weddings, One Weekend: The start of my odyssey of getting hung over. Got home at 3-ish, feeling buzzed but fully safe from the “kawatan.” It’s weird how safe I feel with bus mates during the unholy hours of madaling araw but not feel completely safe in broad daylight on the same bus. 

20, Two Weddings, One Weekend Part 2: The second part of the odyssey of getting double hung over over one weekend. Got to wondering why people get married on dates like 10.10.10. I can see the significance, for sure, but I’d rather have a wedding on a completely obscure date and have a meaningful marriage afterwards than the other way around.

22 to 27

22, Sighs: Sighs have that duality in them, surfacing both during relief and sadness. Some days, an audible exhalation of air can be heard either in relief or in sadness. Some days, you can’t tell the difference.

23 to 27

23, Sucking it up: You can do this, you know you can. You have done this kind of thing before and you can definitely do it again. Get off your ass, stop whining and let’s get this party started. You’re fine, you’re okay.

Repeat mantra when necessary or until it sounds true.

24 to 27

24, Hormones: Never be afraid to say that you are affected (emotionally, physically) by your hormones, but never use them as an excuse for stupidity.

25 to 30

25, Patience: Learn how to better deal with squalling brats and annoying people. At the moment, I only look at them, then shake my head in disgust or worse, I completely don’t acknowledge their existence. I know I was a squalling brat once, and I accept that I am obnoxious and annoying to other people so I really should learn how to deal. I accept that I can’t get along with everybody and I can’t make everybody like me either.

26 to 27

26, Waking Up: There are “those days,” those days when you just don’t want to wake up, when you want to pretend that if you sleep long enough, the day would go away and leave you alone. Too bad “those days” exist, and too bad that no amount of pretending to be asleep can make the alarm shut up.

27 to 27

27, Sleep: Sleeping late then sleeping in is something I particularly like doing during the weekends. Sleep is a guilty pleasure, the only truly private time you can spend with yourself and your subconscious. I like sleep because I like dreams and dreaming, though pulling a Rip Van Winkle isn’t really my style. I can only sleep so much, but sometimes I wonder about that too.

28 to 27

28, Idleness: One of the things I like about being single is that I still own my weekends. I can spend them lying on the couch like a piece of lint, doing nothing but watching DVDs or playing with my DS. On weekends, I can write, draw, sleep in, sleep late, or sing at the top of my lungs and my mother (or brother or father) won’t mind. I can spoil myself rotten on weekends, and believe me I plan to continue doing so even after 27.

29 to 27

29, Criticism: Welcome criticism, and welcome it not with an expression that looks as if you’re chewing shit. Being chastised once in a while means that you’re not nearly as mature as you thought you were and you’re not nearly as smart as you think you are. A reality check is a great teacher, especially when it is administered when you least expect it. I should learn to appreciate those quick kicks to my metaphorical balls, as the said kicks remind me that I have cognitive biases, and it’s not possible for me to accurately judge myself under any standards.

30: Don't forget thy mature pills.

Today, I was reminded of how immature (read: totally retarded) I can be when faced with some types of situations. I should not forget to take my mature pills, since they don’t only keep me from embarrassing myself, they also keep me level. I have yet to learn to shut up whenever necessary, when to keep my voice down, and when to have an opinion and meddle and when not to meddle but still have an opinion. Actually, I’d be able to fill several books on what I have yet to learn, so let’s not get ahead of Batman and the Universe.

I accept and acknowledge the fact that I’ll learn as I go, and I’m not more mature than the person sitting next to me on the bus this morning who was busying himself with probing the inside of his nostrils and smearing the results of his investigations upon the bus seats. I do not have the social license to judge because I’m not sure I was above doing that when I was his age (around three or four). My mother remains to be my moral compass, though on occasion I’ve told her, “Nay, ang mean mo.” She only laughs, of course.

I can only wish to be as cool as her when I’m 50-ish.

30 to 27

I’ve decided to do something this year: instead of a highly depressing and deeply distressing self-assessment, I’ll do a 30-day blog project. I swear I’ll finish this 30-day challenge, and since I always have a hell of a time finishing shit, I shall have to reward myself with something at the end of all this.

Anyway, 30 to 27. Wish me luck.