at around 12 midnight i received a text message that our meeting would be moved to thursday, which was great. i wasn't going to do any thinking tonight anyway. i never was a bibo kid. i always do my work just as my bosses are asking for it. i took the message as a cue to have a cup of coffee while i finish the rest of the book im currently reading. lately ive been feeling extra volatile. i know, i always write in every entry that i'm in the grips of a major emotional breakdown but believe me there are days when i'm happy and every bit satisfied with my life. those are the days when i dont write anything because then i wouldn't have anything interesting to write about --- not that i find misery more fascinating than happiness but when the weather is generally clear i always opt to spend it outside than to stay home and think about how pitiful life is. i guess i'm down mostly because it's november and i always go crazy during my birthday month. the days leading to it and the few days after are especially excruciating. it's just like christmas. i always think that i should be ecstatically happy during my birthday and when it doesn't turn out that way --- even if it was just normal day with no hassles or anything --- i still feel like shit. this year, however, i was actually okay the day before my birthday. although i must point out that at around noon i was already becoming a little sentimental. on my way to work, i saw a handsome middle eastern guy who was probably in his late twenties. his face was something i believe i have already dreamed of in the past. i felt like tim burton stumbling upon my own helena bonham carter. but of course all i did was admire him from a distance since i was never the type who could pick up a man in the middle of a busy street. and so i told myself --- and this is truly barf-inducing presumption --- that perhaps the guy was a present from the gods. of course i would have preferred if he was given to me wrapped in a bow (and only a bow) but the sight of him made me a little cheerful, which was good. when i arrived at the studio i saw yael, that sexy guy from spongecola, and guess what i claimed him as another lovely present as well. my day was cruising along perfectly when just as we were about to end our episode at close to midnight our segment producer slipped a manila paper in our boards, which announced that it was my birthday the next day. when the hosts read it my blood froze instantly. more than embarassment, i felt anger, prompting me snap at our poor assistant. i tried to play along but i think my face gave it all away. on our way home, i couldn't feel more depressed. it's not that im not appreciative of the greetings (lots of people actually greeted me this year, even some strangers on the net) but every time someone greets me a "happy birthday" or even a "merry christmas" i always feel like slashing my wrist. i always think that just as they are wishing me well they are also pitying me. the happy birthday is not so much as a shout for joy but more like a condolence. i know that i could very well be hallucinating this (which could be true in some cases) and that i may have just been projecting my own feelings but damn it it still hurts like hell. it's enough to make me believe that perhaps in reality funerals are a tad more cheerful than birthdays and christmases.
P.S. On the day of my birthday, I met Filma at Trinoma. "Happy Birthday," she said just as I was about to approach her. "And by the way," she added. "I have a stone in my gall bladder and I need P100,000 for the operation." My friends, they are such fun people. Out of the three who invited me out for lunch, I just had to choose her. She just got out of the hospital today by the way.
picture above: my boyfriend and i were bored out of our wits so to entertain ourselves we took photos of each other. we wanted to know what i would look like if i had hair. rakenrol!