14 posts tagged “throw the box away”

LB has taught me that I should always be ready with Mother Nature's weather mood swings. Everyday, I bring a folding umbrella to work. It's not really the best umbrella in the world, but it's the smallest that I could fit into any of my office bags.

I don't like that umbrella much because it's wobbly. I'm not sure if there's such a word as wobbly, but if there's such a word, I think it best describes that umbrella, which wobbles whenever I use it. Nonetheless, I still keep it for its size advantage.

It's been my habit to let umbrellas dry before I fold them. But one day, my wobbly yet trusty purple umbrella gave off an unfamiliar scent when I unfolded it. It's not stinky, but I knew it's not its old self. It's always been dry whenever I fold it. I've never left it anywhere that stinks.

I wondered why it suddenly became skunk-like, giving off a scent that would make you fold it and stash it back inside your bag. Then I realized that I've never washed it. So I asked my team mates at work, "Ang payong ba nilalabhan?"

Come to think of it--clothes, bags, shoes all get cleaning, but umbrellas just get disposed once they start looking ragged or become wobbly.

That night, indifferent to what other people do with umbrellas, I washed my umbrella with detergent. It hasn't gone back to its old scent, and it has become even more wobbly.

In line with RX's Morning Rush, I'm outlining the silly and not-so-silly beliefs I had when I was younger.
I used to believe that...

1. I was swapped with another baby at the hospital where I was born.
2. animals can talk the way humans do. (Mickey Mouse and friends could talk. But why can't our dogs talk to me?)
3. the McGyver show was full of camera tricks.
4. UFOs abduct humans.
5. my dolls' hair grow back even after I cut them.
6. a kiss can make a woman get pregnant. (And I wondered how actresses prevented pregnancy when their roles required doing so.)
7. when you're about to turn 23, you're old, mature and wise.

Some people have these skills developed in their earlier years.
And I'm one of the few who haven't.
~~~~~
The tables turned. Perhaps this is karma. Whatever that is.
~~~~~
He stands there and delivers a speech. He shoots thought-provoking statistics, interpretations and advices.
I sit there, wish I can turn into liquid like Alex Mack, leave unnoticed and save my ears from hearing about situations I haven't been into. But I don't have any super powers, so I stay put, bear the pain in the ears and learn from someone Wise.
~~~~~
There's this flower in a park that has received admiration from many. But no one has bothered to bend and smell it, touch it or even pluck it. I've never seen it. But I'm not at all enticed to visit that park for one rumored flower. If it's such a beauty, why hasn't anyone thought of picking it up and showing it to everyone else?
~~~~~
When you think you've just hit rock bottom, think of it as just a side effect of your crazy, female hormones.

"Hindi pa ako nakakapag-shoplift," I once told my friends three years ago when we were at a book store. It still holds true today.

"Wag mo subukan ngayon," one of them advised back then, "Of legal age ka na."
In spite of being a good consumer, alarm systems of a department store and a boutique have gone on the moment I set foot on their stores. Tama ba 'yun?

The first incident was traumatic--I'm not exaggerating. After the incident with Rustan's alarm system, I always say this line to myself whenever I enter boutiques or stores with those alarm columns: "You don't have a bar code with you. It's not going to ring. You're safe."

If you think that's ridiculous of me, well, I don't know what you'd call me now after the second incident. The second time it happened, I didn't know how I'd make a graceful exit from Lhasa. I didn't even feel like window-shopping anymore, which was my only purpose for entering the boutique. After about two minutes of pretending to be window shopping, I had to ask one of the salesladies to accompany upon my exit from their boutique.

Does this call for online shopping? How geeky.

I’m certainly not of them. It’s no myth. Studies prove that tobacco companies are increasing nicotine content.
http://health.howstuffworks.com/nicotine-increase.htm

I wonder what they’re doing with chocolates.

Ok. So I found out that vox can't support the moving template of myheritage.com:

I was first introduced to Harry in 2004. The first meeting made me look forward to another. But there were no other opportunities, and we both moved on. He continued to rise to stardom, while I began building my career. I busied myself, and became content without Harry.

Then in 2006, there was a buzz on metamaterials. I began to think of Harry again. Taking the matter to my hands, I went to see you, but there was no conclusion.

The chance
The most exciting thing happened last week. An officemate and friend lent me Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which I started reading at a bookstore last year but never finished. After a week in my hands, I finished reading the book. But there’s less magic now—the invisibility cloak is something possible in the Muggle world. When I first read a Harry Potter book in 2004, my favorite parts were when Harry and Ron would sneak out with the invisibility cloak. But now the invisibility cloak reminds me of metamaterials and not magic.

Nevertheless, I’d still like to read all the Harry Potter books. :-)

Kala mo kung sinong Harry, 'no?

I guess I'm stricken with this rare syndrome (or mental disorder?) of taking a haircut whenever my hair reaches my shoulders. I wanted to perm it, and see how I'd look like with soft curls. But I lack the patience to wait for it get long enough and have it permed. After a couple of months, I decided to end the perm dream (at least for now)--I took another hair cut.

The visit to Canon’s service center went well. A80 will be back in about two weeks and in top shape once again. I took a cab back to the office, and as we neared the building, I prepared the fare—two yellow bills and two five-peso coins. When the driver finally pulled over, I took a peak at the meter and sat back. I took the empty camera box, and the other five-peso coin slipped through my fingers and went straight through a tiny hole on the seat.

“Ay, nahulog po,” I said as I handed him what’s left of the fare. I tried to get the five-peso coin, but no coin popped out of the seat.
“Ok lang ‘yun,” the driver said.

I offered him another five peso, but he declined and said that he can get the other five-peso later. That’s nice of him.

That’s like the nth time I dropped my fare in a cab, FX, PUJ or PUB. Other drivers got pissed off at me, while others just smiled and told me it was fine, even though the coins went straight to their trash bins.

Slow suicide?
I took the longevity test based on a Harvard study, and I found out that I can live for up to 91 years! I really don’t want to live that long and bear the sorrowful mystery of life for a long time. I almost wanted to eat all the chicharon in the world, forget about going vegan and dump all the tea bags. I realized later in the day, however, that I might still be able to skydive at age 90! So it’s still no to slow suicide. My professor once told our class that she met an 88-year-old who still eats beef, can walk and may have the health of a 70-year-old.

Music

It would embarrassing to sing out loud the songs that'd been playing in my head:

"Forgiveness is more than saying sorry."
"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf?"

Hush! Please press mute mode now. Thank you.