Danabelle in Kissing Shorts

My lower lip is itchy and it hurts. Grrr.

I have a penchant for getting "kissed" by the kissing bug. I think the bug can tell if you're a good kisser or not. And seeing as they're always kissing me, then I don't think I have to tell you that the rumor about brass players is true.



Yeah, baby.

Hahaha. I kid.

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Speaking of kissing, yesterday, I realized that it's been so long since I've kissed someone and meant it, that I've forgotten how it actually feels like.

...To mean something when you kiss.

You know what I mean?

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Confession?

The reason I brush my lips is not only for the benefit of my vanity... But also because the numbness I feel after brushing my lips is slightly reminiscent of the numbness you feel on your lips after you've been kissing someone for hours and hours.

I miss long meaningful kisses. Whatever happened to those?

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So, I've been re-watching Ally McBeal for the nth time. And yesterday it was the episode where Billy finally told her why he left.

...He said it was because love was wasted on someone like Ally.

I wonder if any of my exes felt that way. I'm generally a happy person and I'm generally easy to please... But I do have a tendency to fall back into this melancholic state that has somehow become a haven. I think I'm happiest when I'm miserable. ...Because only then do I realize just how much I can actually feel.

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Maybe I need a therapist...

Unfortunately, my insurance doesn't cover it. And even if it does... How exactly do you find the right one?

...I think I'd be more comfortable with a girl therapist than I would be with a guy therapist... Because I fear that I might fall in love with a guy therapist in the process of my mental healing.

What? I have a penchant for falling in love at the most inopportune times with the most inopportune men...

If you give me a man, who is seemingly successful, smart and even has a PHD to prove it, and he listens... Boy oh boy am I going to be in trouble. Big trouble.

Look at me... Thinking about going to a therapist to get help, but realizing that I may be in for some bigger trouble. Dramadramadrama. I really do need a therapist.

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Last night, I dreamt that we went out drinking... In a pool bar sort of thing. Only it was more like a beach instead of a pool... There were waves all over the place. Waves that almost drowned me for Pete's sake. Goodness.

Funny thing, there was supposedly an entrance fee kind of thing, which was cheap, but the guy behind the counter seemed to be like the typical sex-deprived maniac, who, for one didn't want to give me back my change until later, and two, who kept trying to wink at me in the most indiscreet way possible. Eeek.

Thank goodness it was just a dream. I would have kicked him in the balls if he wasn't careful.

...In the dream I think I actually did.

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There's this guy who is annoying me to bits. Pinoy s'ya. Itago na lang natin s'ya sa pangalang Gary. (Actually, yun ang tunay n'yang pangalan. Ehhh di n'yo naman s'ya kilala at wala naman s'yang Multiply. At kung meron man, I really don't give a flying frick kaya ok lang. Nyahahaha.)

So anyway, itong si Gary ay nakaka-kati ng bangs. Paano ba naman kasi, pinipilit akong Ingglisin.

MALI MALI NAMAN ANG INGGLES.

Goodness.

Tinatagalog ko na, ini-Inggles parin ako.

I hate that.

I really really really do. Yung pareho naman kayong Pilipino, at pwede naman magTagalog, pero sapilitan kayong i-Ingglisin na mali mali ang grammar and to top it off ang PANGET pa ng accent.

Nakaka-bussett.

And he's not the first one to do this... I've met a lot of people on numerous occasions na talagang pinipilit akong kausapin ng Inggles. To which I usually respond in two different levels:

First Level: I make nice and just speak to the person everso calmly in Tagalog, all the while trying to keep my left eyebrow from reaching for my hairline. Usually, this works, but if the person is persistent I proceed on to the next level...

Second Level: I start talking to the person in English until his/her head explodes with having to process all the highfalutin words that I'm spitting out at a fabulous speed, whilst trying to stifle a laugh while looking at the person's bewildered expression and in my head I'm saying: "Ang kulit mo din naman kasing tao ka. Sabi ko naman kasi sa'yo mag-Tagalog na lang tayo dahil mali mali ang grammar, pronounciation, at tenses mo. Nagpipilit ka parin! Ayan. Yan ang mga napapala ng mga katulad mo. Ito tissue, punasan mo yang ilong mong dumudugo. Lichi ka."

Luckily, the guy is still on the first level. Isa pa. ISA PA. Isa pang kausap n'ya sa'kin ng English, and I promise y'all, hindi ko na talaga mapipigilan mag-level up.

Oh and para sa mga taong pinipilit parin akong Ingglisin at nakakabasa nito, kung tina-Tagalog ko na kayo... Get a clue.

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...I wanted to write something else, but I forgot.

Oh but before I go...

Here's a picture that serves no real purpose except to show you my hair.

Nyarflarharharhar.

Yeah... Even I was surprised. I didn't realize it was THAT long already.

Around this time last year:

And around this time the year before that:

Hope all is well wherever you might be.

Kissy kissy.

Latersss!