Things you don’t normally say, but would want to.

Sometimes I get really tired pretending that all of this matters. I’m tired being nice. Being responsible. Being so god damn in control. I just want to one day not show up at work because I don’t care anymore. Fire me, I don’t care. I don’t care about the money. I don’t care about the papers. I don’t care about being in this god damn country. I’m so tired worrying about the future. These long-term plans people are always asking about. Fuck you all, I’m done with this shit — feeling shit. I don’t care anymore. I want to do something out of character. I want to leave without notice and live a life where I’d eat breakfast food everyday all day away from everyone who knows me. I’m so tired being there for people. I’m so tired pretending that I care about people’s problems, people’s losses, people’s woes and fears. I’m done with all of your shit. Fuck all of these possessions. I don’t need all of these material things. Just give me a big black plastic bag and I’d fill it with everything I own and throw it away. I have so much stuff. So much clutter that takes up so much space. I don’t need all of this. I don’t need all of you. I didn’t care to live this long to be this dissatisfied. I am so tired being responsible. I am so tired living by the rules. I want to be mad. I want to shout at people who piss me off. I want to tell people off when they’re god damn annoying. I want to live without filter. I want to say what I want, I don’t care if I offend anybody. I want to lose control. Because I’m fucking tired. I am so tired worrying about life. This life that has sucked all the energy out of me. I have no more motivation. I have no purpose. I’m just done. I am done and I don’t want to live this goddamn shit show of a life whose audience I’m impressing I don’t even care about. I am done.

Meet the Belchers: Why You Should Start Watching Bob’s Burgers

If you haven’t yet discovered the treasure that is Bob’s Burgers, then I suggest you drop whatever you’re doing, log in to your Netflix account, and start on a Belcher binge. While some people are true blue Simpsonians and others find home in the Griffins, I would be a proud Belcher homie.

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Bob’s Burgers is an animated sitcom created for FOX. It’s about the Belcher family who runs a burger joint and tries to keep it afloat to keep their lives afloat.

Bob Belcher is the chief, main cook, and head of the household. He may seem like a boring dad, but he is wild on the inside. You wait till he get his freak on. He sure is lazy sometimes or maybe he’s just tired of life. He really wants the restaurant to do good for the sake of his family. Aw, cool dad, cool voice, and cool mustache! See the best of him when he gets competitive with Jimmy Pesto, the owner of the Italian restaurant from across the street, also Jimmy Jr.’s dad, Tina Belcher’s love interest. You will totally ROFL.

Oh, Linda Belcher, she is a sweet and independent woman. Linda is the manager, cashier, and waitress of the restaurant. She’s the kind of mom who always want to have a good time and always reminisces about the days of when she was young (aren’t all moms like that?). She never shies away from free buffets, free concert tickets, long weekend getaways, sexy dates with Bob, hosting parties, or even turning their house into a hostel just to keep things exciting. She is the cool mom in real cuckoo fashion!

Aside from being my spirit animal, this sister is also the best thing that happened to the show, in my opinion. Tina Belcher, the first-born and sensual sister who has a thousand feelings to share to the world. I honestly feel that she’s secretly Bob’s favorite child. (Yes, we first-borns secretly make assumptions like this and we know we’re right. Yohza!) She writes erotic fan fiction and why the hell not?! She is a 21st century woman and she is entitled to express her sensuality in whatever way she pleases and can do whatever she wants. She maybe shy and quiet on the outside but she is a firecracker. She’s never afraid to make her move (dance moves), ask her crush to dance, and touch Jimmy Jr’s butt. She loves butt and unicorns. She can be awkward, but she is a total babe. For all those reasons and those unmentioned, I believe we all have a Tina Belcher living inside of us.

 

Now, now, Gene, the strange middle-child. He is how brothers usually are, crazy and irritatingly stupid. He is so easy to love because he brings on the laughter. He is so stupid sometimes to the point that you wish he’s just faking it because if not you seriously begin to worry of the future of mankind. His side comments win in life and I won’t be surprised if he publishes a book when he’s older. He is musically-inclined too. He can play the triangle really well, go figure! He dreams to be a rock star someday, and who knows he might actually rock at it. (You have to listen to Gene’s The Ding Ding Song. It was my ringtone for a month, it was that catchy.) Gene is the restaurant’s official mascot, who parades this awful burger suit while handing out flyers to passersby.

Last but definitely not the least interesting of the kids, Louise Belcher. She is the youngest and also the darkest of them all. She eats sarcasm for breakfast. She wears this pink bunny ears hat everywhere. She never takes it off. There was one episode where a bully took it from her, and she turned into a monster. Now that I think about it, she might be on drugs. Her bunny ears is her drug. Louise likes coming up with all these devious plots to achieve her life’s desires and slowly eradicate the stupid people she’s allergic to (of course Gene is exception to the rule). She is a non-conformist and she questions the rules of the society. Hooray, Louise, but she is also an apathetic, conniving child who I suspect can easily be convicted for murder when she grows up. I think she is usually the brains behind the burger puns of the day, like the I Don’t Bay Leaf in Magic Burger or Bohemian Radishy Burger. (If puns amuse you, check out this Tumblr account that compiles all the burger puns used in the show.) Intelligent child. Almost Satanic, this Louise. But believe it or not, her weakness lies in those boy bands (ehem, ladies of this century, are you listening?!).

I am so happy that a devoted audience kept the show going. Now on its 4th season, it has got its rhythm and it has grown weirder than ever that it’s even harder not to love. The Belchers are precious gems and I hope creator Lauren Bouchard never runs out of ideas for this show. It’s really one of the best animated sitcoms of this day and age. It’s relatable, it’s funky, it’s delicious!

Deep Breaths

One night, while lying in bed, I realized I just had enough. I told Him, “Lord, I am done. I am done forcing myself to believe that everything is working for the better, that everything is okay. I am tired and I just want to stop fighting. I am done.” And you know how much of a relief that gave me? The fact that I just surrendered to Him and gave up. It tasted how I imagine freedom was supposed to taste like. Ever since I took the path with most resistance, I feel like I never had rest. I never got a break. Even those times when I was doing nothing, bumming at home, enjoying the senseless in television, or lying in bed doing nothing, it seems that my mind had always been running, figuring a route to success, or mapping an escape plan in case of failure. I never stopped, for a second, to be worried of my future.

You know what makes it all the more stressful? The fact that all of my options, aside from coming with a countdown timer, have restrictions and extreme consequences attached to them. There is no gray area. I have to pick black or white. If I want black, I have to pick now. Not picking black, means picking white. The weight of this decision and what the impact is gonna be to my life scare the shit out of me. Just thinking about the responsibility of making this decision kills me.

There are so many factors to consider, so many angles to look at and perspectives to come from that I just want to cry in the corner and hide from life.

I lose hope every time I think about the goals I’m supposed to make to live my dream. The path to my dreams comes at such a high price that I won’t afford to take it until I’m maybe thirty… and by the time I’m thirty I think following that path will already be too late. I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it because it makes me sad.

Life….. why

Gotta Love D.C.

Fine, I’m eating my words. I hated Washington D.C. the first time I was here back in 2007 because I found the atmosphere boring for my taste. I see university students, people in suits who look like they’re in the middle of a conference call with business partners in  Shanghai, and tourist families exalted to see the White House and A Lincoln.

Now, six years later, my thoughts about this place have changed. Maybe because I’m of age already to appreciate this kind of independent and intellectual vibe of the city. There are so many yuppies here, and people my age, who just sit around in parks enjoying the sunny afternoon, hang out in cool cafes, and enjoy walking around the smart city while deep in their ideological conversations. I am beginning to love it! Actually while I’m doing an unpaid internship here in D.C, I’m whiling away idle time by looking at the best places to get coffee, pizza, tapas, Ethiopian food and etc. and imagine where I’d be spending my non-existent and future money! Oh, gosh. This is totally unhealthy, but how do I stop planning these fun and exciting activities when I’m surrounded by such variety, such inspiration for life, culture, food, and beauty? I hate that I am so poor right now. I am noone but someone young without consuming power. Since I’m on a rampage here, I’ll go ahead and share to you that I’m also planning where to spend my afternoons next week, because my boss will be out of town and I thought that maybe it will be worthwhile to visit some museum and galleries while she’s gone. I’m so unprofessional I know, but fuck it, I’m in D.C. Gotta make the most out of it while I’m here!

Be sexy.

I really liked Ashton Kutcher’s message in the recent Teen Choice Awards 2013 after he received the Ultimate Choice award. I always thought Ashton Kutcher was gorgeous and funny, but I never really got the idea of his success as an inspiration to the millenials or as a trendsetter to this age of social media. However last night, after I watched my recording of Teen Choice, I realized that it does make sense.

He made three points that drove a sensible point. He said something simple yet relatable to my life as of the moment and I just want to kiss his face for making me realize this truth.

1. Opportunity = hardwork. Stop telling yourself that you don’t see any opportunities. Just accept whatever is in your way, don’t choose. Starting with something, starting with anything is a good start. Just work hard and one day it will make sense and your hard work will pay off.

2. Be sexy = Be smart. Be thoughtful. Be generous.

3. Do not live a life. Build a life.

I hate how darn good writers control their readers’ emotions like putting iron chains around their necks and dragging them to the end of the room with their bleeding hearts out. It’s so fucking twisted! And amazing… As a reader, you can’t help but feel helpless and breathless and all you want is for the characters to be happy but you can’t do anything about it. You want to stop reading, but you can’t ’cause you are gripped. Gripped to the core, as if the characters have already become a huge part of your life. You’re hoping that your life can be the way it was before you started reading this captivating story, but it just won’t happen. DAMN THESE DARN GOOD WRITERS. 

Cross the damn road.

One step forward, two steps back. That seems to be the pattern my life is in right now. One day I am so enthusiastic and filled with optimism, picking myself up from a fall. Then two days later I wake up falling back to day one, all the progress I made has spiraled down overnight. It makes me feel that everything I do only sets me up for a bigger failure. Seriously, it is a tiring pattern to be in and it is hard not to lose patience.

My breaking point happened one afternoon when I went out for a run with my dad. It just hit me — the why am I here, what am I doing with my life questions. The worst existential kind. I tried to run as fast as I could to divert my attention to the building weight in my lungs as I go faster or the hitting of my feet to the ground. I tried to run fast as an attempt to empty my head but it did nothing. My dad tried to talk to me and ask me what’s happening, but I don’t know how to answer him. With my head throbbing, I decided to shut him out. I shut my mom out too when she tried to do the same. When I went to take a shower, that was when I burst. I lost it and sank to the bathroom floor, crying all my misery and frustration to the poor bathroom tiles.

And then I realized what I thought the problem was:

  • I lost the control to my life when I moved. My parents gave me the steps to take, the choices to make that I felt like I lost the say on my own life. Suddenly, everyone had a damn thing to say about my life. My relatives, my parents’ friends, my friends. I don’t know how everyone suddenly had control, except for me.
  • I lost the comfort of being with my friends. Yes, Mindy, everyone is hanging out without me back at home.
  • I lost my idea of what I want for my life, no clear path, no clear destination. Blank. Question mark question mark.
  • I lost the life I loved… and I was devastated because I kind of want it back. I don’t know, I’m not sure.

~

But the real problem is, I just can’t let go. I can’t let go of my old comfortable life, which is why I can’t look at the present and the future and all the possibilities it holds. I’m not even trying. I just keep on running away from it, scuttling to my rut and pretending like things haven’t taken a 360 degree turn. I keep on running to the past because it’s a safe place, a comfort zone. At present, all I have is fear and uncertainty and I don’t want it.

I am the problem. Even if I didn’t move across continents, people would have still moved on with their lives so I should just accept it. Accept that a huge change is going to happen anyway. People were meant to move on and lives were supposed to change and I couldn’t have done anything about it.

I am stuck because I refuse to move on. I can’t cross the road because I don’t want to. I can’t cross the road because I am afraid of what I’ll miss if I do. Damn it, even the chicken had the courage to cross the road.

So let go, Cha! Let go of the past. Let go of your fears. You should let go. Stop resisting and accept the possibilities in front of you. With an open mind. With unyielding courage. With hope of an exciting new life. Then, you can move on. Cross the damn road.

ALL MY TENNIS FEELS

Before anything else, I am not the biggest tennis fan and I don’t pretend to be. But I have to admit that my recently rekindled tennis fandom is getting serious. It all began with my dad and two brothers being tennis maniacs, actually more like FEDERER maniacs. Everytime there’s a tennis tournament they hog the telly for themselves and talk tennis over breakfast, lunch, and dinner until I had no choice but to pick my corner on the couch and create my own cheering squad, if I wasn’t on Federer’s side. And I wasn’t.

Ever since I watched Djokovic play in 2011, I was an instant fan. I admired the burning passion in those gorgeous eyes of his and his flexibility on the court. His splits are show-stopping and tennis pros respect his sliding, on-the-line, double-handed backhands that only he is known for.

First game of him I watched was against Nadal, and it was just the cherry on top when he beat the golden Spanish leftie, who everybody seem to root for, that made me notice him more. Maybe I had a thing for the underdogs, but ever since his first game I’ve watched, he won and continued to snatch more titles under his belt until he has totally won my heart. I admired the guy’s motivation and determination to walk the talk and be World’s No 1. Apparently, Nole isn’t appreciated or loved as much as how hard he is working and that is what dismays me.

He was always the villain. Against Federer. Against Nadal. And earlier in the Wimbledon finals, it was a struggle for me to see him ace, score, or make faults and get nothing from the crowd. Nothing from the crowd. He never wins majority of the crowd when he’s playing. A lot of comments were made telling that he is too arrogant, that he doesn’t have that tennis star quality, or how he is not so likeable unlike Roger and Rafa. Add to that my brothers telling me how his fan base never grows and that he can never be celebrated like Federer because he just doesn’t have the charisma. Hey, if there is one thing you never do to me, it’s to bash my idols. I am irritated to the bone because people don’t understand how deserving he is to be loved just like any other tennis pro who have worked to reach the top. They don’t see how hard he has worked and how much he has given to master the sport and to win even just a slight of the warmth the crowd and fans give to Roger or Rafa. As a huge fan and a part of the Nole fam, it is heartbreaking.

Don’t even get me started about people comparing him to Lendl (“the player who was respected but never loved”). I’m sorry but that guy looks like he’s made of stone or steel or wax. Nole, on the other hand, has a good sense of humour and he actually makes good impressions of Sharapova, Nadal, and Rodick. Now Lendl, he doesn’t even smile.

So today was my first time to witness Murray and Djokovic play on the same grass court and against each other. If Roger has Rafa, Novak has Andy. I have learned that they go way back, meeting in a tournament while they were just 12 years old. Mind you, Andy is just seven days older than Novak. They also know how to work with each other, as they have participated in Men’s Doubles as a team before. They are alike in a way that their path to Grand Slam titles didn’t come easy to them.

Seeing Andy Murray beat Novak Djokovic today didn’t hurt that much to a Nole fan like me, because I thought that this was the perfect time to see Murray make history with a whole nation on his back and all eagle eyes on him. Although my heart was broken to see Nole lose without a strong fight (not winning a set to me wasn’t like him at all), this Wimbledon event is clearly bigger than him winning and proving once again that he is World’s No 1. It was about Murray, who for years have tried, failed, was cut short, and almost tasted victory, finally proving to the world that he can play with his all and bag a title that would free Great Britain from 77 years of tennis dismay. He fought and stood up there making his nation proud and it was a glorious moment.

Now Djokovic had a glorious moment too today. To see him accept his loss and commend his opponent like it wasn’t difficult to be composed at a time of failure is a sign of a true champion who acts with grace even in defeat. Nothing could make me more proud. He will definitely rise in the U.S. Open. #TeamDjokovic all the way!

Boy, has it been a great day for the world of tennis!

Would you give it a rest?

There is a certain amount of nagging I can take and I’ve had enough of it earlier today. I didn’t mean to be mean to my dad, but I know that I may have raised my voice a little higher while I was talking to him on the phone earlier. It’s just that a lot of things are going on inside of my head and they are stressful enough on their own. My dad nagging me about those things twice a day doesn’t help at all.

It’s not that I don’t want or need his help, but I just want to figure out things on my own first. I want to find my place in this house and in this new life on my own. I don’t need for him to tell me that ‘I don’t seem to understand that things will be very difficult’, because he certainly hasn’t been in my mind lately not seeing what a chaos it is there right now. I understand the current change in my life situation, but I need him to give me time to process everything. I haven’t even passed the first week yet, for God’s sake. The last thing I need right now is to be rushed. Because if this continues, I will seriously lose my mind.

Dad doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve been spreading myself too thin in the past couple of days (with the adjustments of moving and all) and I’m just being nice by nodding my head when tolerating his consistent nagging. So after that exchange of muttering of breaths over the phone, my dad hung up and I knew that the moment he reaches home he’ll do the silent treatment on me. And I was right. Maybe he did harbor some ill feelings about what happened, but I’m kind of thankful because at least I’m getting the quiet that I want. I hope he understands, ’cause right now I don’t need anyone breathing down my neck or hovering around like a teacher checking up on my right or wrong answers. I just need time, is that hard to understand?

It’s a pain to have an over-achiever-nagger dad sometimes.

Shit scared

I am aware that June starts tomorrow and along with that fresh start is my possibly putting a period to an already run-on sentence that is my summer vacation. I am flying out of London… and out of Europe for good. I don’t know when I’m coming back, but someday I hope I do.

I am moving to the States to rejoin my family and to look for a possible bright future. I am actually dreading this day to come. I’m afraid. More like shit scared or terrified. I tried finding an escape to this situation by listing things that I would like to do, namely: learning how to cook, joining some friends in a book review blog and doing it religiously, learning how to drive, starting on a diet and exercise, coming up with interesting pieces for my blog, or seriously growing potted plants (believe me, I bought sunflower seeds already). I tried really hard to sweep whatever I’m dreading under the rug, but it doesn’t work anymore. And now I’m wide-eyed staring at it.

What do you want to do, Cha? Will you study further? If so, what will you study about? Will you find a job? Do you think people will take you seriously? Or maybe you want to study and work at the same time? Can you handle it? Or maybe find some rich guy you could marry? Or you know what, surrender and just go back to the Philippines? What do you plan to do?

I don’t know. I really don’t. And no matter the many minutes under the shower I’ve spent thinking about it, I get a different answer and get more frustrated. I always make an excuse, like Oh I’m so young still I have a lot of time to think about what I want, but the hard part is my time frame in the form of my visa and its expiry when I turn twenty-one next March. I know I just can’t do nothing while I hear the clock tick. That frustrates me even more. Why can’t things be much easier?

Well, the best idea I have right now is to settle down first and figure things out when I’m there. Tomorrow, my ten-month countdown officially begins. Wish me the best.