morning me.

good morning world. why did you wake me up? you could have at least left me alone for a few minutes. i want to go back to sleep and forget about the fact that i slept with a bruised part of my body plus my back hurts and a few places of my body is just plain sore. Despite the fact that my bed right now is big, cozy and in a state of disarray (to which I have no intention of arranging). I'm a mess myself -- tousled hair held in place by a ballpoint, hand with visible "paid" mark, sleepy face half painted in chocolate ice cream (becuase of "gluttonic" reasons hehe), and feet up in the air for no apparent reason. My shoulder hurts a lot from the position i was in when i was asleep and i kept on yawning that makes my nose grow big. sheesh. talk about major mutation. I morphed into something my mother would call "a disaster"... or is it "hopeless" ... i think i remember her saying I'm born "a disaster" and I've mastered the sophistication of being "a headache" -- what can i say? --patience is a virtue, the main virtue that regulate mothers and their impulses to choke their children in their height of tantrums. I'm sensitive though. I may not be emotional sometimes but a good drama flick can make me soggy -- someone dies in the movie and i bawl. I connect. I try to not disturb people (except for very few close ones). I seldom contradict (unless you're really asking for it). I sympathize. and lastly, i'm nobody's pain in the ass except for those people who loves me. *smiles.

....Life is...

...beautiful despite ugly truths.
all i can say is...what happened?

the curls

me and my officially curly hair ^.^

death of a friend

What a way to go. He couldn't have picked the best time... It is perfect. Everybody is celebrating the dead. He instantly becomes a celebrant. But is it worth celebrating? A friend expires and we are left behind with nothing but memories of him. Memories that are not even accurate. Memories to be visible only in words as we write and talk about an expired friend. no...expire is demeaning. retired would be a suitable word. or is it?

death is as common as can be. everyobody I know is always related to someone dead.
We, ourselves are going that way...But it still sends shivers everytime I am informed of a death, especially of a loved one. Confronted with this reality, we tend to question our mortality. We look for ways to validate the fact that we are living the life we want. or the life we thought we want.

*Sigh. suddenly, just knowing we wont see him again, instantly I immediately want to see him. Pathetic. Pathetic and too late. Does he know that I see him special? Does he know I see him as a good friend?

the answer holds no value now.... ---right? questions and answers are for people who can question and answer...I wish the opposite though, but that would mean, we'd have to bring him back to life... please -- find someone who can arrange.

license to breathe

Solvent overdose of the year.
a mixture of rugby, thinner, and paint --- sniffed to the highest level --- resulted to a salon cruise that involved threading and perm.

Martin and I started painting the office. We felt creative that day... Too creative perhaps... If there is one thing I have learned so far -- it is the fact that being high may result in unwanted hair perm.

The paint.
White and sticky. It came in the form of a gallon of stuff that just wont stop from trickling to our elbows when all we wanted was for it to stick the wall.

**We were left to our own devices and thus painted our way to destroying the already-in-shambles-studio.

mission number one.
status: over and done with
drip.drip.drip --- while singing I have two hands.

The bottles of thinner.
Clear liquid used by people who doesnt know what they are doing. Primarily used to clean up various indescribable mess on the floor.

Mission two
status: partly accomplished.
Requirement: you must love the art of stooping. NOt reccomended for people who are in the dying age.

The Mafia Boss -- the rugby.
sticky white goo that smells so strong that your spirit just fly out of you.
Caution: is alive!!!!

Mision three a.k.a. Mission Impossible
status: it's complicated

Carpet has not been installed yet. And so covered with paint, martin and I decided to create another fiasco -- and in our little hands is the bottle of rugby and on the floor, the black carpet laid to be exploited... Little did we know...that would be the icing on top of the cake.

Without further ado, let me confirm your suspicions-- yes, you are right, we struggled to paste it on the floor...oh yes we did...in a very bad way... Its like teaching grandma the pretzel.Mission number three--- is mission impossible times three.

Skills gained:
at the end of the day, we have practically perfected the technique of smelling through our ears.

After Effects
The rugby smell was so strong we got knocked out so bad that resulted to an even more mess that resulted to the towing of my beast as suggested by my mechanic because he just couldn't make "Colonel" roar back into life in the office parking lot. The painting took a week and my truck was dead for almost a week also. he was trying to resuscitate for five days already. He said, the beast needed to be taken to his shop.
Nobody said being a Laborer is really a labor...sheesh

What could have happened?
All I remember is that Martin and I were in the car wanting to go home. The next thing I remember, I was in the office couch the next morning and my car is not starting.Don't ask me, your guess is as good as mine.

Other damages
HAIR -aside from the dead brain cells due to solvent inhalation

I was so stressed with the fact that my beast has no life and has to be towed that I made the wrong decision of stepping into THE salon -- insisting that i get a perm.

The lady said no.
I should have listened.
Shyet.

Huhu...but anyways...crying over spilled milk is useless. I'm determined to be happy about this...and I will be! drat - Lalalala!

oh...and yes... I am now officially not straight...
no, not that way, pervert.

writing my way to sleep.

where is mr. sandman when you need him?

I can feel the air getting colder and my feet are kinda liking it. Humming slowly to calm my wandering mind and making a havoc in other people's lives by sending unnecessary hellos via sms to people who don't want to be disturbed.

Im sorry. I am a bad girl. And this bad girl is having trouble sleeping. And just like any other bad girl, this little missy is making sure, her suffering of having another sleepless night is being shared with other people who've hit the bed with ease and who unfortunately have their cellphone under their pillow. Im sorry, but misery loves company.

My nocturnal friends have, to my disadvantage, gotten smarter. They know what to do now when they receive my sleepless-night-lovenotes...They ignore it. hehe. Or better yet, they reply with an invitation for me to come out of my hibernation to join them in their prowl of the city. Regardless of the fact that I may look like a party-girl, I am not. My semi-goth choices of clothes and make-up is something I wear because I like it...not because I have some goth-party to attend to...that's just me...weird. Anyway, an invitation to party out always make me stuck my tongue out in frustration. I rarely go out to socialize.

Don't get me wrong, I am a happy, outgoing little missy-- it's just that I have my own little party twirl in my head. A second party will just mess me up. A hot coco is a better preference to soothe my heart and calm my soul. Plus I grew up where parties are for special occasions. haha CHAR.

oh well.

My choices of whatever is the least of my concern tonight.
I am willing to give up my bloody red lipstick for a few winks from mr. sandman. Ok, let me throw my to skull tops too...
but please please don't ask for my slippers...they are expensive.

I know I should stop wearing slippers in my meetings...but I've totally given up wearing sandals and shoes for a year now that I find it quite difficult to give up the comfort of having my bare feet worshiped by friends and strangers alike. WOhoo! The comfort of feeling their eyes look at my stubby toes as it lightly taps in choreography that makes them wonder if the toes will even fall out sooner or later as they hold their breath in fascination.
Ok I made that up.

It's just comfortable...plus they're mine.

ok, now im starting to worry about my feet. Thank heavens, we have a just God, he gave you a pair of your own to worry over...if not -- you must have done something to piss him off. All I can say is...better learn how you did it and fast, before you start doing it again and have your organs removed next.

Lucky you if He chose the kidney first...if not --you might voluntarily offer that one...others get a Php100,000 in the exchange... but the money is actually not a payment for the organ...you cannot make God pay for something he made...the money you receive is a debt...to be paid in installments...within small measures of suffering when you urinate everyday...when your pissing with one leg up...that means, your interest just got higher.

Awww..that is sad... I don't want to give up my kidneys..not now. Not ever... well...except when I really have to. hehe. Giving up something we love or something that is a part of us will always be painful...It can come in the form of SBOD --shocking blow on delivery or to be experienced in installments of small measurements of suffering stretching from a week to half a millenium... But that is life. It is neither free nor fair. It has its own sets of jokes that we sometimes find cruel rather than funny... But its jokes are always funny. We just sometimes don't have the right sense of humor.

Speaking of which....so many things I want to say...but sleep has finally found it's way to me....hehe. good night world...hello mr. sandman. finally.

Epal Moment of the year!

All I can say is that, I wish I didnt smile as much! ang epal ko! haha!

Do i I look like I haven't taken a bath in the photo? (nod?) of course... its because I haven't. After being cornered at Via Mare, sunday night, no thanks to Roberto (and accomplice Bianca), I proceeded to spend the rest of it running around to find markers and cartolina. Do not ask me what it was for... I'm still groping for words to explain how I got myself there...

When I sent Roberto a message that I am free for the evening, I was ready to get wasted and to get drunk. I was wearing my black skull dress as a prep. Wore goth makeup with black kohl lines in my eyes.ashen gloss and a "kinda-sorta" depressive expression to go with it. Had my mother saw me, she would have disowned me -- which is not far from happening anyway. We haven't spoken for almost a month now, btw (but that's another complicated story of my life).

I was already looking the part, with my red high platform havas to match the red rubbers of my braces, I was ready to enter the dark side.

If I remember correctly, it was Roberto was the first one to get me drunk without me realizing it. There were three of us then. It was my first time to meet him. I didn't know then that rice makes him grumpy. We were with a foreigner, so naturally rice is not part of his daily routine. But I'm a chicken-and-rice girl. I live and breathe because of chicken and rice. They ordered beer and other sundry stuff. Like a fool, to be polite, I told myself to wait for them to order rice before I order mine for dinner, it was, after all, past 6pm, they are bound to eat something of substance...or so I thought.

Come 9pm, the two just drank beer...I ended up closing the night, half shouting my theory of relativity in an attempt to philosophically explain how we are all a product of our human history...Not being coherent but trying to be by shouting -- like that foreign guy you see that raises his voice when he orders, thinking that the waiter will understand him regardless of the fact that the waiter doesn't speak his language -- I was that...except I was not making an order...and the two are not waiters. But like that guy, I just didn't make sense.

The next day, we met again, I was careful not to be in the same state... I went home feeling funny but sane. The third night, we met again over buckets of beer. In the fourth night of the beer marathon, I responded to the invitation by saying "I have a fever". That was the end of my beer drinking career.

That sunday night, after having been done with all the stresses of my life, I thought it apt to drink my way to oblivion as a reward. But life has a funny way of making you change your plans. And life is not very patient, it makes you change it immediately. Roberto brought me a friendly face from Mindanao who snapped me out of my drinking fantasy by telling me that I need to get up 7am the next day. I nodded and life approvingly made the weather easier for me to accomplish my treasure hunt ---> from one block to another, in search of markers and cartolina, and thankfully finding them at 7-eleven. After obtaining my jewels, i found myself at a coffee shop making plans and nowhere near getting drunk (drat)! My ghetto-morbid attire is making other people stare at me and I was looking too happy for my goth make-up.

But life decided to put in another surprise. A friend came by to uproot me from my little homey coffee shop. I ended up watching a movie, squeling in embarrassment for the actor, and going home hungry and stressed than ever because I havent started my cartolina job yet. Needless to say, I was a zombie when Biancatot woke me up via text.

And that is the story of that funny face in the first picture. I looked out of place...because I was out of place. Having slept so little because of going home late and waking up before everyone does because of a too early appointment, the madness of it all tends to register in the face.

Thank heavens, sanity came back the next day.

the culprit, roberto

the accomplice, biancatot

Health.Beauty.(and)Wellness for Creative Exchange 2009

Health, Beauty, and Wellness.
our VIP guests will surely purr in contentment

We have started last year and now on our second year of celebrating good relationship with clients and friends. We've done the Cultural and Fierce performances last year, this year, we have decided to do an intimate gathering for selected guests. A muted elegant atmosphere with complementing music and a more warm setting this time. Lighting it up with incense and scented candles coupled with relaxing free massages, facial spa, special treats...

Felicitea, Market Basket | Friday, 6:00 pm | Sept 04, 2009

This theme is being inspired by the uprising buzz of SPAs in Davao City. Of course, doing a SPA Party means we'd be introducing something in that line too. Soon to open in December: REJUVENASI, Davao's first anti-aging SPA. With treatments using Galvanic method, everyone can now age gracefully...literally.

Our signature Facial

Rejuvenasi Signature Facial

To calm, balance, and revitalize

45min - 1hr | Php 1,500

Skin regenerative results in just a few minutes

The luxurious facial spa you all have been waiting for. Pampering you with a 5-10 minute facial massage infused with Marigold, sea kelp, and vanilla extracts to soothe and condition the skin. Followed by 5-10 minute Hydrating spa treatment. Indulging you with 5-10 minute massage of Arginine to help your skin recover from stress. And lastly a rich facial spa treatment of Magnesium to energize, invigorate and revitalize.

Effects: restore skin's natural vibrancy by removing impurities and promoting cellular energy. Slows the signs of Aging, instantly erases crows’ feet and laugh lines, lifts up sagging facial features, cleanses and hydrates leaving skin feeling incredibly soft, clean, and refreshed.