mexican mass of mohair
There's an Asian Tsunami going on, right inside my bank account. This time, with me hoping it will be the last, it was for a pair of knee high boots that I've been searching rather high and low for more than a couple of months now. I'm thinking that this is the end of my shopping for year 2004, with a little bit of overflow. Contributing $91.88 to my grand total, it brings me closer to 4-digits: $ 881.87 (tax inclusive). I had also to buy foot enhancements because I have rather bad feet, in addition to bad everything, and that sets me back $28.45, amassing in $910.32 in investments towards my fashion-diva-hood.
I wore my not-so CFM boots to work for the first time today, and I got just one compliment about my general appearance (without specifying the boots, but somehow I knew it had something to do with them as I was given the once-over). Just because my boots are not red, pointy, and up to my thick thighs does not mean it is less suggestive. Suggesting what is another question. We don't want to turn the workplace into a strip joint now, do we?
I was quite satisfied with my boots, visual-wise because I figured that this is as close to the perfect-for-my-chicken-legs boots that I could get. Perfectionist and anal that I am, I have to get used to the little creases here and there. Let's just say that flaws flavor character. Well, at least, that's my excuse.
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In other news, these past couple of days saw me alternating from moods of apprehension, mortification, extreme guilt, giddiness, plain silliness ---- all stressing me out enough that I am beginning to imagine that my eczema is going to flare up again, no thanks to my sister and the Mexicans. Basically, the Headless Horseman sent out flashcards advertising my sister's blog to the community of 10 at the party. Quick to their feet, or shall I say fingers, one thing led to another, created laughter (because my sister's recounting of the New Year extravaganza was certainly hilarious, at best), and some awkward silence perhaps (I was not there, I would not know). Bottom-line is - it created a big hoopla that reached my pseudo mommy's ears, and who just fell short of quoting my sister's entry for the New Year extravaganza verbatim, but she was too damn close for me to call her bluff. So it's the usual "I know that you know that we know that you know that we know" kind of story. In two words: we're busted!
Plans to rectify the situation were underway. I'm not exactly a professional spin doctor, but I'm pulling tricks out of my proverbial hat while I was inhaling on my puffer (sucking my thumb, more like it) just in case I die from hysteria. I'm back to my hair-pulling, making-mountains-out-of-molehills days because bad habits die hard. To placate P, or more likely myself, I pulled my hand out of my ass and with sheer willpower, dialed Chef-O's number in a stage to make amends. Now calling a boy first, making the first move is a big no-no, almost a taboo in our family's backward thinking, that even when I'm in a relationship (like I'm an expert in this area), I'm expected to be passive and let the guy do all the finger exercises to the point where the guy isn't sure of my feelings and wondering if he's more likely having a brick wall as his girlfriend.
Anyway, this time I felt compelled to "assault" Chef-O at all points and left messages here and there (just two) in the span of a day. Wooooo. What a feat! And I didn't even break a sweat! They just turned popsicles.
I'm a firm believer of "keeping my distance" and this, to me, is being "in your face." Leaving two messages (one phone, one email) is akin to being a stalker in my book. Wooooo!
But I know my mind is just on overdrive and I'm stressing out for no reason. So imagine the huge wave of relief I felt when he did return my "I hope I don't sound too desperate" call. I was trying to sound calm, playing cool while I try to ignore the jets wheezing past my head and a hundred mile per hour thuds somewhere in the vicinity. I was making feeble attempts at conversation, laughing at my own jokes, just to get the party started, even though it was 10 minutes before I get off work. I can feel my face turning red when everybody else in the room tried not to listen intently. They went on their menial tasks, some in their own little world, but I feel as if I may very well be naked in the middle of Times Square.
I don't know if he's trying to make me feel better by saying he didn't read it and not to worry so much about it. But it's the nature of a worrywart to worry, that's why I'm called a worrywart. Even psychoanalyzing for hours would not do me any good but at least I felt.....not as worried. Haha!
Long story short, I think I've been given a chance to start with a clean slate, and damn if I don't take that opportunity. I've been trying to get rid of excess baggage at the end of 2004, to be fresh and in time for 2005, but there were a few snags along the way. But I managed to clean up shop yesterday, even though sometimes things might come out of the woodwork like they did the beginning of the week. You just have to learn to keep them at bay, bury the hatchet before everything bursts at its seams.
-----
Today, somebody told me a story that may put things in perspective. What many people do is take things for granted. Life is still a life, no matter how many ways you cut it. All I have to do is learn and enjoy what has been provided for me. I should live each day as a new day, heal old wounds, start fresh because there's always hope if there's life. I do not have to try to be someone else in order to feel loved and appreciated, because the only person that I have to love is me. Everything will fall into place once this is achieved. My value would not be lost on discerning people, and I have to realize that the ones who know how to appreciate me are the only ones that should matter to me.
As for tomorrow, well, that's for me to know, and for you to find out. Hehehehe!
I wore my not-so CFM boots to work for the first time today, and I got just one compliment about my general appearance (without specifying the boots, but somehow I knew it had something to do with them as I was given the once-over). Just because my boots are not red, pointy, and up to my thick thighs does not mean it is less suggestive. Suggesting what is another question. We don't want to turn the workplace into a strip joint now, do we?
I was quite satisfied with my boots, visual-wise because I figured that this is as close to the perfect-for-my-chicken-legs boots that I could get. Perfectionist and anal that I am, I have to get used to the little creases here and there. Let's just say that flaws flavor character. Well, at least, that's my excuse.
------------------------
In other news, these past couple of days saw me alternating from moods of apprehension, mortification, extreme guilt, giddiness, plain silliness ---- all stressing me out enough that I am beginning to imagine that my eczema is going to flare up again, no thanks to my sister and the Mexicans. Basically, the Headless Horseman sent out flashcards advertising my sister's blog to the community of 10 at the party. Quick to their feet, or shall I say fingers, one thing led to another, created laughter (because my sister's recounting of the New Year extravaganza was certainly hilarious, at best), and some awkward silence perhaps (I was not there, I would not know). Bottom-line is - it created a big hoopla that reached my pseudo mommy's ears, and who just fell short of quoting my sister's entry for the New Year extravaganza verbatim, but she was too damn close for me to call her bluff. So it's the usual "I know that you know that we know that you know that we know" kind of story. In two words: we're busted!
Plans to rectify the situation were underway. I'm not exactly a professional spin doctor, but I'm pulling tricks out of my proverbial hat while I was inhaling on my puffer (sucking my thumb, more like it) just in case I die from hysteria. I'm back to my hair-pulling, making-mountains-out-of-molehills days because bad habits die hard. To placate P, or more likely myself, I pulled my hand out of my ass and with sheer willpower, dialed Chef-O's number in a stage to make amends. Now calling a boy first, making the first move is a big no-no, almost a taboo in our family's backward thinking, that even when I'm in a relationship (like I'm an expert in this area), I'm expected to be passive and let the guy do all the finger exercises to the point where the guy isn't sure of my feelings and wondering if he's more likely having a brick wall as his girlfriend.
Anyway, this time I felt compelled to "assault" Chef-O at all points and left messages here and there (just two) in the span of a day. Wooooo. What a feat! And I didn't even break a sweat! They just turned popsicles.
I'm a firm believer of "keeping my distance" and this, to me, is being "in your face." Leaving two messages (one phone, one email) is akin to being a stalker in my book. Wooooo!
But I know my mind is just on overdrive and I'm stressing out for no reason. So imagine the huge wave of relief I felt when he did return my "I hope I don't sound too desperate" call. I was trying to sound calm, playing cool while I try to ignore the jets wheezing past my head and a hundred mile per hour thuds somewhere in the vicinity. I was making feeble attempts at conversation, laughing at my own jokes, just to get the party started, even though it was 10 minutes before I get off work. I can feel my face turning red when everybody else in the room tried not to listen intently. They went on their menial tasks, some in their own little world, but I feel as if I may very well be naked in the middle of Times Square.
I don't know if he's trying to make me feel better by saying he didn't read it and not to worry so much about it. But it's the nature of a worrywart to worry, that's why I'm called a worrywart. Even psychoanalyzing for hours would not do me any good but at least I felt.....not as worried. Haha!
Long story short, I think I've been given a chance to start with a clean slate, and damn if I don't take that opportunity. I've been trying to get rid of excess baggage at the end of 2004, to be fresh and in time for 2005, but there were a few snags along the way. But I managed to clean up shop yesterday, even though sometimes things might come out of the woodwork like they did the beginning of the week. You just have to learn to keep them at bay, bury the hatchet before everything bursts at its seams.
-----
Today, somebody told me a story that may put things in perspective. What many people do is take things for granted. Life is still a life, no matter how many ways you cut it. All I have to do is learn and enjoy what has been provided for me. I should live each day as a new day, heal old wounds, start fresh because there's always hope if there's life. I do not have to try to be someone else in order to feel loved and appreciated, because the only person that I have to love is me. Everything will fall into place once this is achieved. My value would not be lost on discerning people, and I have to realize that the ones who know how to appreciate me are the only ones that should matter to me.
As for tomorrow, well, that's for me to know, and for you to find out. Hehehehe!