Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Kids say the darndest things

When someone you once knew to only lie still and look at things, barely peep a sound or move a muscle begins talking out loud, constructing sentences, making choices & asks questions: it's really an incredible thing.

Dylan: Mommy, can we sing?
Mommy: Sure, what do you wanna sing?
D: A song...


Dylan is playing with a rubber band. He stretches it out and lets one side go. It hits him, he screams, and cries, "Mommy, it BIT me!!!"

We're walking in the mall and the COMING SOON posters are up. There's a huge board with the Silver Surfer on it.
Brandon (Dylan's Godbrother, 4 years old): Mama! Mama! Look!!! The Silver Surfer!!!
Dylan (3 years old): Mommy! Mommy! Look!!! ELEPHANT!!! (Referring to the Evan Almighty poster with this huge elephant right smack in the center)

Gotta love innocence and picture books. haha!

Ian comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
Dylan: Hey, don't kiss my moooooom...

My little man- overprotective at the age of 3. How can you not admire that?

Dylan's at the parking lot looking at all the cars parked.
Dylan: Wow! look at that! Lots of cars...
Skratchmark (uncle Mawk): you mean, HELLA cars...
Dylan: HELLA CARS!!!


I'm getting ready for work and Dylan barges into the room, like he always does. He looks at the mirror, and looks at me. He points, and says, "Pretty, mommy! Pretty!!". My heart melts... and then he adds, "butterflies! Pretty butterflies, Mommy!". He was referring to the butterflies stuck on my mirror that i've had on there since 5th grade. Oh well. haha! =)


We're walking across Taft Ave. The LRT is right above it. As the train passes by, Dylan's eyes get bigger and he stares at the train with awe and excitement. "IT'S THOMAS!!!" He yells. =)
He's obssessed with Thomas the Tank Engine and was convinced that any train was named Thomas.
That was a few months ago though. He knows better now. The guy can name all the trains just by looking at them... sometimes, I can't even tell the difference. Amazing, i tell you.


Mommy: Good morning, hunnie. What would you like for breakfast?
Dylan: Egg.
(He's going through this egg phase. Sometimes, he'll ask for bread)


We're all having dinner. Dylan has a thing for fried, crunchy things, and assumes that everything he likes is chicken. He also loves his carbs. I call him the Carbs Kid. He'll eat pasta (alone. No sauce), bread (nothing in it. Just bread), and rice (again, on its own), just as it is. But he needs his protein, so there are days i have to force him, get mad at him, trick him, or bribe him. Whichever works best.

So i hide a piece of meat under a spoonful of rice. I motion it towards his mouth, he opens wide, and just when i thought i had it, he stops. He pulls back and looks at the spoonful of food. He knows he's been tricked.
He looks at me and says, "Mommy, rice lang!"
I can't even outsmart a 3 year old?
I need practice.


When he sees pictures of himself in a swimming pool, he calls it- TAKING A BATH. =)


Geez... i could go on. He's growing up way too fast, but he never ceases to amaze me every single day. Life is beautiful and he only makes it better.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Deprivation be gone

In a word, yes.

Okay, so the new not-in-valenzuela pad happens to have no access to internet. It's more complicated than it seems. How hard can it be, right? Well, you try talking to the landlady... just like the last one, seems to think of everything she could possibly charge us an arm and a leg for.
The first day Ian stayed there, the bathroom sink got clogged. Like, seriously clogged. The water would chill there for hours- and i mean HOURS. There are days it's never even empty. Nasty, i know. But she blamed it on him and says she's not gonna fix it. She says it's because he shaves there... yeah. Apparently, stubble, 1mm thick, can clog your drain. Geez, i can't believe that got past me! Genius.
We have a landline that we never use. We don't ever have a reason to call anybody and nobody's home long enough to ever use it for that purpose anyway. Oh, and the lady didn't give us the number. We don't even know what our phone number is. I also keep it off the hook because in ridiculous hours in the morning or every single time i decide i wanna get some much needed rest, someone calls- and they're looking for Banrangay. Always. Every single time. Did we get the same number as them or something?
My point is- we don't use the landline... and she's charging us 1,000 pesos a month. Yeah, right! For what?!?!? We didn't ask for it, and we don't use it. End of discussion.
I'm internet deprived.

I have been sober since my Friday Night Birthday Fiasco. Well, i've had a drink here and there... but i can honestly say that i've really just been sober every time i go out. It's not so bad. It really isn't. The night goes by a little slower and watching everyone being crazy is not as fun as being crazy with them. But i think my liver likes me better and my head fully thanks me the morning after.
However, all that will come to an end tonight. We're about to witness major stupidity once again- it's another birthday weekend, and the entire crew is getting plastered.
That's just the way it is.

Harry Potter 7 has been out for almost a week now and i'm happy to report that i didn't come across any spoilers and actully finished the book in just under 15 hours- straight. Well, i had to eat in between and use the bathroom and such... but i even ignored Dylan for a little bit and told him not to talk to Mommy. haha! He didn't listen so i had a few interuptions here and there.
I'm not gonna give away anything... but i'm just gonna say i expected a little bit more. My sister cried. I didn't. But nonetheless, the story was brilliantly executed and JK Rowling just made another hundreds of millions of dollars. Mere pocket change to add to her already flourishing empire. Jolly good for her.

I don't know if i've written about this recently, but i think not. I miss my gurls A LOT. It's not the same going out a lot and not seeing your core group gurls. Or having dinner and coffee or afternoon chats when we just feel like it.
I understand that things have changed and the possibility of things going back to the way they once were are slim to nil... but i'm only asking for every so often. It needn't be every single day.
Err... i just miss em, that's all.

Ian's leaving in 8 weeks... and i already don't see him as much as it is... boo.

Okay, so at the moment, i feel as thought there may be some things in my life that needs altering or maybe some things are just simply lacking. Whatever it is, i feel fine. I know i can do this. My cancerian-boar self just shouldn't be so freakin' emotional and sensitive all the time.
It's not that serious.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007


NO, it's not that serious, really.
A few days to clear my head was therapy enough... and a good scare really does the trick. I don't go looking for a high and i don't go craving for alcohol either... and whaddya know? No withdrawal symptoms here.
I guess i can blame my stupidity on boredom. Yeah, there you go. In my defense, i blame all my stupidity on being bored.

Oh, another excuse- it was my birthday weekend. hahaha. Riiiiiight.

You know what would help? Some retail therapy...
I lost an earring again this weekend. I hate it when that happens.
What to do?

Monday, July 9, 2007

Sweet Escape

10:03pm. Friday night. I'm 3 minutes late for work. Ian decided to come out tonight. It's my birthday thing, you see. We just had dinner at my place with my whole family. It was intimate and sweet... but i had to rush getting ready for work and i left without having any cake. I didn't want to be late.
An old friend i haven't spoken to or heard from in 8 years is meeting me tonight. It should be a good night.
Another friend of mine was throwing a despedida. She gave me "a little something" as a "birthday gift". They're blue. Yeah, it was gonna be a good night.

11:30pm. I'm on. I usually play for about an hour. I've had 3 rhum-cokes already. The place isn't as packed as it was last week. I'm not feeling too hot. I think i could do a lot better. The equipment, always the equipment at this place. It messes up a few times. It's not my fault but it makes me look bad. They fixed the airconditioning, retiled the floors, bought new lights and fixed the outdoor fan... they should've bought new CDJs too, dammit. It might not seem that big of a deal... but they're just as important as those turns.

12:30am. Technically, it's STILL Friday night... but really, it's Satruday morning. I'm finally catching up with Christia (i haven't seen her in years!) and we're having s great time. We drink a bit more and knocked back a few shots. I'm sentimental. I get lost in our conversation because i love to reminisce. Hey, it's such a good night... let's make it more interesting. The "blue birthday gift" i got earlier? Yeah. Done.

1:00am. Ian's still at the club. He has work tomorrow. I have to ask him what time he's leaving... he can't stay out too late. He has to go home soon. I pull the front door open and casually walk in. I look for Ian.

Lots of people.



CD case.






8:30am, Saturday morning. For the love of Elmo, what the hell just happened?
I'm in my sleeping clothes at Ian's pad. Ian left for work already. I just heard the door shut. I think i left some important CDs in the player last night. Crap. I have work again tonight, i need those. I get up to check. My head is pounding.
What do you know? They're there. Ian must have put my things away. Aww... that's so nice.

Only he didn't. Apparently, i did. We also didn't leave at 1am. We stayed til around 3am. Yeah, i was so plastered, i don't remember a thing. That's where i start to freak out... I ALWAYS remember what i do. Being drunk is a poor excuse to do stupid things. It plays a huge part in the stupidity... but a poor excuse nonetheless.

Hi. My name is Thea... and i'm an alcoholic.
I'm not supposed to put this kind of thing on blast. But i've done some serious thinking and i want to put this out there.

In the past few weeks, i've blamed my alcohol consumption or certain drug abuse on the dilemmas that have happened in my life. YEah, when life throws a curve ball and i get high blood pressure at some point in my day, my mission is to escape on weekends and drink til i'm dillusional. It sounds idiotic. A lot of people would say it's therapeutic.

If it were every now and then, maybe therapeutic would be considered... but not every single time we hit the bar though... that's a different story. And i'm not just saying about the veteran club-goers who just drink to pass time and have fun... i'm talking about those of us who drink to forget. To escape the fact that reality is a bit tougher than we figured.
That was a lot harder to admit than i excpected.

I may be self destructing. I know for a fact that what i'm doing to myself can't be good. I've said it before, i'll say it again- my liver hates me. I wouldn't be surprised if my lungs did too... my brain wouldn't hesitate to jump in that same band wagon either.

Nobody ever said life was gonna be easy. Being given the gift to exist doesn't come with a warranty if something goes wrong. It's also not guaranteed satisfaction. Some people glide through life like pros (or so it seems), while others just can't keep up with the pace. Who's to say that you can handle whatever is thrown your way? How did it go? Right- "It wouldn't have presented itself to you if He knew you couldn't handle it".
Is it such a bad thing to try to get away from the unpleasant things that stare at you everyday?

I've formed my own little world and i haven't let anybody in. It's hard for me to do that. I'm always supposed to be okay. I'm always the one to pull through. I'm not the one that sits around and does nothing when i know there's work to be done and bills to be paid.
But nobody sees that.
Everyone is fighting a harder battle.

It's a sad realization to find it hard to be happy unless intoxicated. I refused to believe it until i woke up one morning not remembering a thing. I did it to myself for a reason... and denial is such a bitch. My worst enemy is most likely me.

I'm not being cynical. C'mon, the teenage junkie/alcoholic gag is so passe.
I'm coming clean... no pun intended.
Dependency and will power aren't as simple as they seem.

It all started with one night. Just to "get away". Stupidity can sometimes be synonymous to FUN. And the things you do in life, the choices we all make... well, they all come with a price. I'm not sticking around long enough to find out where this one could take me. I've read the articles and i've seen the documentaries. I'm not trying to prove i'm better than anyone else. I'm not trying to set some kind of record either.

I'm trying to make life better.
So much for the sweet escape.
I thought i was making life better... it took something completely idiotic to tell me that i was walking down the wrong alley.

To a certain extent, it does help. For a momement, i do escape. Everything is fine. But that's all a have- a moment. It's not permanent... well, atleast the experience isn't. The damage, however... well, that's a different story.
As human beings, we learn our greatest lessons through tragedy. Apparently, bad things have more of an impact than the good, happy stuff.
I'd much rather know that my real life is making an improvement rather than making myself "happy" a couple of times a week while i deteriorate from the inside.
Deal with it. Why should i trade in the rest of my life for a few retarded, artificial happiness moments?
I have so much to live for. I want to be around for a long time. Some people may think that this really is just nothing... I look at it as the first step to solving a problem.

Really, it's just not worth it...

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

One fine day

A day like any other.

I woke up to the words "i love you". I went out to buy eggs and made Dylan and the boys breakfast. I spent the morning watching Dylan's movies. We skipped lunch because breakfast was considered brunch. When Dylan went down for his nap, i spent the whole afternoon finishing the 2nd season of Prison Break (it's one of the worst series i have ever seen, but it kept me preoccupied for a few days).

We bought chicken for dinner and we had ice cream for dessert. I played with Dylan the rest of the night. I got kicked in the face, my hair was pulled, there were toys everywhere, the room was a mess, and Dylan was filthy. I gave Dylan a bath, my dad cleaned up his toys and now the ever-so-hyper 3 year old is getting ready for bed.

What an ordinary day. Nothing out of the norm.
I turned 24 today.

I've been waiting to turn 24 since i was 13, i think. I don't know why. I thought it had a nice ring to it. Ridiculous, yes. When we were young, we all just couldn't wait to grow up. "Grown up" lives looked fun and promising. Running our own lives and making our own decisions. Yet the older we get, we only long to be young once again. How ironic.

I haven't decided if this means anything yet... but shoot... i turned 24 today.