Boy, I Like It When You _____ My ___

What's with the title?

Be creative. Feel free to fill in the blanks, my friends.

Boy, I like it when you:

massage my feet
kiss my lips
paint my nails
pay my bills. *wink wink*

And the list goes on...

But the reason actually is... Wait, the question is, am I allowed to mention it here? Because everyone seems to tell me it’s a taboo here in the blogosphere. It’s like one of the major commandments --- Thou shall not say “____ my ___”.

Oh well. What the heck, this is my page. So here it goes.

I was reading the “love notes” at my chatbox and well, I couldn’t help but find certain people sweet by bothering to type “$mile$ for you, friend” instead of just a simple “hi” or “hello there”.

Then there’s the “Ro$e$ for you.” Wow. See how the person bothered to press Shift and 4 at the keyboard just to put a design on the words. What an effort. Very sweet. LOL

Pardon my ignorance but as a virgin blogger, I didn’t know what this meant. Silly me. Haler! What are those dollar signs for?

So you just don’t know how proud and happy I am for someone TRULY HONEST AND BRAVE to leave a blunt message at my chatbox saying, “I ____ your ___, please ____ my ___ too!”

LOL. Actually it’s "I clicked your ads, please click my ads too!"

Aaww. Darn! If only I have ads… LOL.

Major Announcement

How and where do I start? Oh well. There's no easy way to say this but...

... I'm pregnant.

God forbid. *knock on the... $#@!, I can't find a wood.*

People have been asking me where the heck I am and how come I don't show up on gimiks or how come I can't be there on Gheri's exhibit at Eastwood or be at BFF Tin's fashion show. And a friend just called up to yell at me and say, "You're so PI! Why don't you effin' reply? Where the #$%@ are you?"

"First. I'm okay, THANKS FOR ASKING. Second, I'm in Samar."

"WHY?"

"Why why?"

"Why the sudden decision to go home?"

"I'm pregnant."

It worked. My friend who lives a fully verbal life (whatever that means) in her articulate world suddenly couldn't find a word to say.

First Day. I was awaken by a doorbell and there was my yaya since kinder standing at the gate with her daughter. They told me it was mom who called my tita to persuade yaya to stay with me. Owwwkayy. But boy, was I glad to see yaya! Both of them can't stay until night because they have "kids" to take care of. With kids, they meant husbands.

First Night. Oh gawd... thanks my dear cousins for sharing me your scary tales inside this house... my heart was pounding.

Knock knock.

&^@#!

Close your eyes. Just effin' close your eyes!

Then the phone rang. Ohmigod... Is this the part when someone whispers, "I'm watching you" in that husky voice. Ohgahdohgahdohgahd. Who would call me anyway? No one knows I'm here. Then my mobile rang. It was Tita.

"Why aren't you answering the phone? And why aren't you opening Sheila?"

"Who's Sheila?"

"She's the helper who'd stay with you at night."

Oh. Imagine two yayas by day and a yaya at night. What happened to "Be independent - Do your own laundry - Don't rely on helpers" lessons of my mom? This is a turning point of my life because I just realized that my mom truly loves me. LOL. BUT why do i have a feeling my mom is just being herself --- overprotective? :p

P.S. Regarding internet connection, that would require another entry. LOL.

The Prodigal Blogger

Guess who’s back and blogging?

The Noble and The Nonsense, moi, Miss Elle.

Joining the Peace Corps has been an experience! However, while I was in my solitude and in deep abyss of profound thoughts, I realized that blogging is of more significance. LOL.

SERIOUSLY. I was trapped in a very TALL tower in the middle of a desert and surrounded by flames that could be put off by the brave one. It was disheartening to perpetually wait and more tragic when my long hair was cut off by Abu Obama bin Lohan aka Kimmie.

But last night. Oh one snowy night (yeah snow in the desert), someone saved me. When I opened my eyes from an eon of sleep caused by too much Benadryl that terrorist Kimmie had been giving me, I heard two guys arguing. Oops! I was saved not by someone but by someTWO.

One must have been angry to the other because he wanted to kiss me. So I asked both of them and one in red was like, “Excuse moi. Ilusyanada!”

“But you must be Prince? And you in green must be Charming?”

“Nonsense! You don’t know us?!?”

“I’m Mario and he’s Luigi! Gahd!!!”

“And contrary to the rumors, we’re not brothers... WE'RE LOVAHS!”

They kissed. And lived glamorous gays ever after.

Fin. Wakas. The End.

Hugs, Kisses, Pizza and Manicures.

MISS ELLE: I LOVE posting in your blog. Albeit I think I'm not doing it justice, but I very much am enjoying being able to post in The Noble and The Nonsense. :) I'll put it in my resume! LOL

I'M NOT GIVING YOU YOUR BLOG BACK! :)

Hahahahaha. ;)

PS: Seriously. No burden here. I ♥ interacting with all your readers&commenters. :) Long live The Noble and The Nonsense!

Everyone say Hi to Miss Elle. :P

So Help me God.

After five weeks of washing dishes, manually doing the laundry, ironing, sweeping the floor and other various household chores, we finally found ourselves some household help. All should be well, except for the teensy weensy fact that she can be a bit ... How shall I put this? Slow.

Slow, literally and figuratively speaking.

Example:

ME: Can you call Mommy at the office?
Helpergirl: O_O

ME: Tell her the guy whos varnishing is here

Helpergirl: O_O

ME: You know how to use the phone, right?
Helpergirl: O_O

*picks up the receiver*

O_O

ME: Do you know her number?
Helpergirl: O_O

ME: *dials the number*

Helpergirl: O_O

Another example: We're in the process of switching residences; and we're doing the move one day at a time. Today, I put out some dishes so the dish holders and the rest of the utensils can be driven out to the new home along with some other boxes.

Helpergirl puts them back in

Me: No! Didn't I put it out?
Helpergirl: O_O

Me: Leave it there

Helpergirl: O_O

Me: Don't put the dishes back 

Helpergirl: O_O

Me: I put them out intentionally

Helpergirl: O_O

I know this sounds really gross, but my tummy's been hurting pretty bad lately. I also noticed that our water has some weird after taste -- like it was taken from the sink (which is definitely not sanitary).

My sister: Why does the water taste gross?
Me: I dunno, but it won't be the first for that water company we order from

My sister: It tastes like sink water

Me: *thinks: maybe helper girl has been getting water from the sink? nah! i don't think she's THAT dumb. i mean, she gets water from the dispenser herself, right?*

A FEW DAYS LATER...

Mommy sees helpergirl "washing" the water bottles and filling them out with sink water

Mommy: Inday, have you been getting water from the sink?
Helpergirl: O_O *Nods very very slowly*

O_O

And the ultimate winner...

Inday is a working student. She goes to school at 5pm-8pm. On her first night out, Mum gave her P20 for her allowance. (She's used to P5/day). Inday comes home LATE, almost 10pm.

Mommy: What took you so long? Where have you been

Helpergirl: Nag sweeper pa ako. O_O

SWEEPER? For two hours?

Mommy: *dismisses the incident* Eat your supper

Helpergirl: *shamelessly devours two whole plates of rice*

Mommy: *to me:* Pubresita. She's so hungry. At least now when she comes home, she doesn't have to worry about anymore. At least we're helping her in a way.

THIRTY MINUTES PASS BY 

Mommy: *to helpergirl* Inday, try to hurry up a bit because you have a few more chores to finish off.

Helpergirl: Is that my food?

Mommy: You've been eating rice without the food???

Helpergirl: O_O

Mommy: Didn't I tell you that that's your food?

Helpergirl: O_O

Mommy: So all you've been eating is rice???
Helpergirl: O_O

We try to understand her. We really do. Mum told me to put myself in her shoes. She feels really bad for helper girl, and likes the notion that we're making a difference in her life. 

Poverty is a vicious cycle, and Mum hopes that inday can finally break it. "If you were up to your neck in poverty, had to work before going to school, didn't have food in your stomach; you'd be slow too."

Which got me thinking. Where would my state of mind be without my vast collection of books? Or without my college degree? What if I didn't get to eat three full meals a day? Maybe I'd be worse off than she is. Maybe my facial expression would be O_o.

It is with this, that I try to empathize and understand. Even if, five minutes ago, I asked her to clean upstairs and she gives me this blank stare again. Then asks me if she's to clean upstairs already.

O_O

And even if, before that, I asked her to make some ice and she threw out the mineral water and replaced it with sink water. (Isn't that different from making ice?)

My mom makes the sign of the cross whenever things get too frustrating -- and she's not even Catholic.

We're going to need all the mercy we can get.

So help me God. :|

'Til Miss Elle gets back,

Kimmie. ♥

HeyLow!

Hey! Kimmie still here. :) Sorry, but Miss Elle is still being held against her will (we've been injecting Benadryl into her bloodstream); so I'm still in charge here.

I honestly feel incompetent yet privileged that Miss Elle has given me access to her cyber journal. And now, for a little history.

Miss Elle and I go wayy back to pre-pubertal days, and have come to be the very best of friends in high school. She'd always have this little plastic blue notebook with her, perpetually doodling and writing whenever she had the chance. We'd always have heart to heart talks, but it'd start with her letting me read a few entries from her precious notebook. Then one day, probably fed up with having to explain things to me, she handed me her pad and said, "Read whatever you want. I'm giving you 100% access."

Cool. Now, five years later, I have yet again unlimited access to her pensieve. What should I do with it?

Suggestions? LEZZ PARTAYYYYYYY.

***

I'd like to thank those who've commented on my previous post. I was kinda wary at first because I wasn't sure how you guys would react to me. :) Thank you! *I'll try to post better when I have time:)*

So help us God.