Debutante

Bridget Jones never fails to make me happy. — Or maybe it’s just Colin Firth? Haha.

I think I’m having another off week, so I’ve been keeping myself busy these days to at least not feel miserly and fat at home. I’ve been going to the mall and around town to see what’s up with everyone. My mom just filled my tank, so I get to go around. I only panic when my gas tank is 3 quarters empty anyways.

Oh, today I went to El Camino to take a Chemistry placement exam. On my way back to the parking lot, I noticed this huge scratch on my sideskirt (again). I sort of half-knelt down beside it and examined the damn scratch. All the while I’m thinking: “When the fuck did this thing happen?” No, I wasn’t crying yet, but I was pretty damn close to bawling until I saw these dried flowers on the back seat of the car.

“Wait a minute,” I thought to myself. “I don’t have dried flowers — HAH!”

It wasn’t my car!! Haha. Man. I felt more stupid than relieved. Tsk.

In times like these.. In times of single-hood.. I only rely on my car. It’s my boyfriend, you know. I love it. I love it. I mean, come on. It’s inanimate - yea - but it’s always there when I need it, it has never stood me up. My car is just as ideal as any other human specimen - it even has a stick.

Alright alright. That was a sexual innuendo. Haha. Hmm.. Maybe watching Bridget Jones didn’t really help me with my inner conflicts of singlehood and stuff. Gah. I’ll meet my Mark Darcy someday.. I just got to wait…

But fuck it. What is taking him so long?

I dont know.. Maybe because I just have my period today, and I’m pmsing like a motherfucker. BUT I’m really upset because my ‘friend’ JC and I were supposed to meet up and go watch movies today.. I’m not gonna use the term “go out” because that’s being too presumptuous on my side (as it turned out, obviously). And it meant so much for me.. And I really thought he was gonna come.. And I had my hopes up..

But the fucker stood me up.

Maybe if it was just another guy it would’ve been okay. But JC was/is different. This is the guy I wrote poems for. The guy who I know I love deep down inside.. And no, it’s not one of my “I-want-to-fuck-you” kind of love.. It’s one of those unconditional love I never believed in until I’ve decided to become a martyr for him. Ehh.. the story’s way too long, way too cheesy to be told again.. Our story is all crap anyways.

Damn it. This blog is getting personal. I’ve always wanted to keep the sane Rina talking here. Not the cheesy side of me. I save all my love dramas for my other anonymous blog.

Whatever.

I hope JC finds a way to this blog and reads this entry and knows how shitty I feel right now.

On the other hand, it might just be my menstruation.

It really does help if you jam happy thoughts into your system — as if you’re forcing yourself to be happy just… so you could be happy and your day won’t feel as shitty and whatever’s happening in your life right now doesn’t seem to be so… un-perfect.

No no no. I’m not back to my pessimistic self yet. I’m still indulging myself with nothing but happy thoughts and I still feel good. Though I’ve given up on what you call love. Maybe that thing isn’t really for me, no? What is love anyways.. It’s all.. unnecessary for people like me… who only want to be happy, and love is nothing but a distraction and a nuisance with the likes of us.

I ‘ll believe in it when I get it.

Right now, I’m good with my happy, love-less thoughts.

I’m good.

I’ve been chewing on some deep thoughts lately - well, since RR asked me what my ideal guy is.

I simply replied: “Someone who wouldn’t need me..”

It’s like Julia Roberts line in the movie Closer when Clive Owen asked her why she’s having an affair with Jude ‘Hottie-But-Reportedly-Has-A-Small-Wang’ Law.

“Do you love him?” Owen confronts his wife.

“Yes..” Roberts replies.

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t need me,” she said with conviction.

What exactly did I mean when I said I want someone who wouldn’t need me?

I want him to want me. Yes. But, not depend on me… Like the Mark Darcy type from Bridget Jones’ Diary. Oh,Colin Firth is just too damn beautiful (though somewhat balding and wrinkly), and he definitely epitomizes my ideal man.

I want someone who’d be stronger than me.. I’ve no strong feminist sentiments, and I don’t mind my man subduing me (in all the right time and place, of course). I want him to be better than me. I’m really not that great, so it shouldn’t be such a hard task.

JC told me before that none of my guy friends wanted to mess with me because they didn’t want to hurt me. Bullshit. I say, that’s because they’ve got no balls to do so.

Bring forth the Spartans. I want real men.

“My boyfriend have some Filipino and Vietnamese homies,” said P, while we’re at school.

“Hook it up!” I teased. “Haha.. as long as he’s cute and polite, I guess, he’ll do.. Haha..”

“Yeah.. Actually one of them is coming to pick me up..”

“He cute?”

“Yeah..”

“Well.. we’ll see..” I said half-thinking..

The guy comes.. pulls over, gets out of the car, and checks his trunk (literal car trunk — not that trunk). P and I were at a distance ogling.

“So what do you think?” P asked.

I look over Guy XYZ.. All I could discern was this 5′7″-ish, light skinned Vietnamese wearing a wifebeater shirt and khaki pants..

“Yummy,” I whispered to P.

Honestly, I didnt even get to see him.. I’m nearsighted and his face was a big blur. Bleh. Well, I’m desperate and have low standards anyways so why should it matter?

Haha.. Just kidding.

Woke up at around 8 this morning. Checked my phone for any text messages. Then I headed to my computerfront to see if I had any new emails or new messages or new whatevers from people.. All these I did even before I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth..

I know, I know.. It’s sad. My life is completely engulfed with all these technology things.. and again, I am reminded that my life is no more than a bore, and I’m slowly becoming a full-blown sociopath.. Tsk.

Haha..

Anyways.. so I left the house at about 9:45-ish and headed to Starbucks to get Paula’s and Brian’s caffeine fix. Drove to school.. hung out a little bit with Brian in my car.. and finally got to class.

School was a big blur.. I’m seriously terminal with my Senioritis, I tell you. In chemistry, I had to explain some chemistry kinetics mechanics in class (which is supposedly general knowledge by now) and I completely bombed it and made an ass of myself in front of the class..

“Rina,” my chem teacher called, ” Do you think if we reverse the reaction then it will be more favorable to the reactants?”

“Uhm.. no?” I hesitantly answered.

“Are you sure?”

“Mr. Hagen, is this a trick question?”

“Well… no. It’s just a matter of understanding how the mechanics work..”

Man, I hate reminiscing about my good old chemistry days.. when everything was easy and I wouldn’t ever get a grade lower than a 98% on any given test.. It makes me feel so incompetent now..

Now that I can barely raise my grade up to a B.. and when I’m probably one of the stupidest in the class.. My Asian powers fail me..

After school my mom, sister, and I headed to San Diego for [my cousin/ family friend] Anna’s confirmation. I still think the kids who get confirmed here in the states have it easy.. I got slapped by the priest when I was confirmed back in the Philippines.. Tsk.

This post is all over the places.. Sorry. It’s almost 3 in the morning..

I had a [supposedly] potluck lunch and a movie party today.. Not really a party (my dad will surely overreact if we call it a party), it was just a small get-together thing for my friends and I to chillax and unwind.

I made some pasta, pigs on a blanket, some mothafudger spring rolls, and TR brought some chicken salad (extra mayo for lubrication - haha). Afterwards we watch one of my most favorite movies, Closer, with Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, Jude “Hottie-but-rumored-to-have-a-small-wang” Law, and Natalie Portman. It was cool.. the guys weren’t so thrilled to see it (a guy thing, I presume); the movie’s mildly (and as I’ve said before) implicitly sexual. So yeah.. (yes, it must’ve been that guy thing.. tsk..)

********

Oh and my mom is enrolling me to a driving school.. She nearly had a heart attack when I re-parked the car in front of our house.. I accidentally stepped on the gas instead of the brakes, and that kinda freaked my mom out.. But so what, right? Everyone has their first time.. at least I didnt hit anyone..

“We are definitely enrolling you to a driving school..”

“Mom, I had everything under control..”

“We need to get you driving, but I dont think you’re ready yet..”

“I just need to get comfortable with the car I guess.. Wait, wait, wait! That’s what I need.. A new car! Dont let me drive this beat up the Ford.. You know I’m an environmentalist and that car adds up to global warming..”

“Tsk. Talk to your dad..”

I know I’m gonna get a new car.. I know it.. They just don;t want to tell me yet..

My cousin KC tells me I’m too perverted..

“i can see that with your watching the 300 movie and crank”

Background information: I love love love Jason Statham and Gerard Butler (and any other hottie Britain has to offer *except for the most recent Mr. Darcy guy in Pride and Prejudice.. they could’ve used Colin Firth again and I don’t think anyone would mind) and I find it generally okay for a girl (i.e. myself) to revel in their sex scenes.. There’s nothing wrong with that. We’re merely extending our duties as fans as well as giving them due compliments by ogling and fantasizing about their sexy jerks and oomphs.. (onomatopoeia effect)

***For you, visual learners..

“Man.. you cant blame me..” I replied. “It’s Leonidas’s own fault girls are dying to see him have sex on the big screen.. That damn Gerard Butler shouldn’t have worked his body out that well.. Makes it worse for girls to contain themselves in the movie theater even..”

“You should take a cold shower whenever you watch that movie..”

“Eh.. It’s ‘tastefully’ done anyways.. It was beautiful..”

“Are you into like sex scenes now or just hot guys with sex scenes?”

“Just hot guys with sex scenes,” I said casually. “If I don’t discriminate against the guys who are doing ‘it’ I might seem a little too.. perverted.. and porn-addict, which I’m totally not.”

“Man better control yourself before I see a whole collection of movies in your room”

“I already have Closer.. And it’s not even that bad. Just implicitly sexual..”

“Seriously whenever I talk to you.. I have to take a breather and think.. ‘dang is this Rina’”

“I’m not that bad..”

“Well.. When I think of you as a cousin.. Yea, it does get pretty bad..”

“Think of me not as your toddler cousin.. I’m just an 18-year old.. with insuppressible hormones… that’ll make everything better..”

Hahaha..

Though I’m a self-professed pervert, I honestly don’t think I’m that bad. Paula’s much worse that me.. I think it’s because I’m already 18.. and having a mild case of Pervertia (made up for the purpose of this blog) is already punishable by law.. especially if you take it out on minors..

Tsk. I hate it that I’m probably the oldest Senior girl in school.. and it’s already illegal for me even to “imagine” things.. cause every damn guy I associate with in school are jail baits..

Today is probably one of most well-spent Saturdays of my year.. Not productively, of course, that’d be tiringly boring.. At least today my mom, my sister, and I went shopping.. I got me earrings that I’ve been drooling about.. I got a haircut like a month ago and I realized them dangling and bigass earrings don’t look nice with my newly cropped do.. So I got some cute little earrings.. and some fancy necklaces too. Hope my mom would reimburse me though.. The money I used to buy the stuff came from my Prom Fund..

Plus, my cuz K.Che will come over to take my sister and I out.. so that means I gotta take more moolah out of the fund. Damn. If I’m broke for prom.. I’ll cry.

Haha. Just kidding.. But if I really am broke.. it’d be really really sad..

Which brings me to consider this one guy who asked me to prom.. well, if he’s a gentleman he’s gonna have to pay for my ticket and stuff right? But no. I’m still waiting for this guy to ask me.. and if he won’t ask, I’m probably gonna have to gather up my guts and ask him myself because he’s that special.. and I want to spend my prom night (sans sex) with him.. (Or with.. whichever..)

I digress.. again.. to my pervert state..

Anyway.. I gotta go shower.. K.Che will be here in 30 minutes..

Only crazy and creative people come up with this kind of lameness. Haha.

Hopefully, in a week, i can fool around again. I can’t keep this boy too long. He’s too nice and too innocent for a pervert like me. Tsk.