Category Archives: psychology

“(They’re) Selling The Drama (but I’m not buying it)! Thank you!”

Today’s  topic: Drama Kings (and Queens to a little extent)

Been reading articles such as “How to Spot a Drama King” and “Signs You Are Dating A Drama King/Queen” lately. Because for some reason, I seem to “attract” quite a bit of people like these. When in reality “Drama” in a person is one of my biggest deal breakers. On a related note, I am currently enforcing a “Zero Tolerance Policy for Excessive/Unnecessary Drama, Bullshit and Lack of Respect”; warnings are usually given though (I have a “three strikes and you are out” policy. If I happen to care a lot about a person I might give 2 or three more extra chances, and I consider that very generous on my part.) Repeat offenders and violators will be ruthlessly severed from my life (very much like a doctor would remove a tumor) regardless of the nature of the relationship, and how long we have known each other (family, friends and significant others are on “equal footing”.)The “cutting-off” is most of the time, more an act of self-preservation rather than “hate” or for punitive purposes. The logic behind this is that I only have a limited amount of energy and if a person repeatedly “sucks it out” from me faster than I can say Lestat, then where does that leave me?

But first things first, what is “Drama”?

“Drama” is anything that causes you to waste your most valuable currency; mental energy. If there’s anything in your life that you’re thinking about that you don’t like, any friendships that cause negative emotions over positives…or any environment which you exist in that effects your emotional state in a negative way.” (this is according to one commentary on one of the blogs I was reading earlier, and is pretty spot on.)

A bit of “history” now.

  • My childhood was fraught with drama; At one point during my teenage years, I declared a moratorium on all excessive displays of emotion. This was often mistaken for “coldness” and “lack of emotion” -insert eye-roll here- which is never the case. My emotions tend to run deep, although expressing them in excess -especially anger- tend to tire me (I remember one case I was so upset, I couldn’t breathe literally). So like I said, I found a way early on to “regulate” my emotions. I also swore at the age of 12 that “my ideal relationship will be drama-free” (the volatility of my aforementioned childhood also made me quite “mature” in thinking for my age).
  • So fast forward to my adult years, working on my technique and reading books (the usual nerdy pursuits). Then for some reason, I’ve had a relationship with a guy who seems to thrive on creating drama (although I realized it quite late into the “partnership”). He sure had good points (I think) at the beginning, but mostly with him it’s the “Battle of the Mundane”, “Shake the Dead Rat Repeatedly”, “Hey Jealousy”, the “Passive-Aggressive Attack Mode” and the dreaded “Explain Why The Earth is Flat Using Quantum Physics In French” (in other words, the impossible). And did I mention the “Nostradamus Is My Middle Name Act”?Saying being with him was exhausting would be the understatement of the century. So well, I finally “hit my head” after a few years and now I am back on track. Excellent right? In some ways, that was an “eye-opener” (and mostly the cause of my “No Drama Policy”), enabling me to detect “red flags” into any future relationships.
And the award for
And the award for “Best Performance In A Drama Anthology” goes to…

But then, here is another example of the drama I’ve had to deal with recently:

  • I was communicating with this guy for a while now (a “potential partner”) and everything seems to be going well. But then we seem to have hit the “asteroid belt” of conversation and “Houston, We Have A Problem”! He is good-looking, witty, funny and educated as far as I can tell (we are even on the same wavelength, Star Wars fan too! Yey!) So naturally, there is the “flirting” stage with all the “sweet nothings” etc. Then of course, like any adult, you move to the actual getting to know each other phase (which is paramount in getting a “picture” of the person with whom you might potentially spend the rest of your life with). I answer his questions as honestly as I could (without discussing things which I deem would be in “poor taste”), but when I’m the one asking questions he avoids it faster than Han Solo could shoot Greedo. I let it go and switch to more “sweet nothings” for a bit, but I’ve noticed that at his age the guy tends to use the word “crush” repeatedly (I must suppress the urge to go all “Buffy” and say, “My God! Are you twelve?!”) Then, when I have not answered a message at the speed of light, asked me “Have you lost interest?” and “Am I that easy to forget?” For all we know I could be in the bathroom, working on my drawings and generally performing tasks which are essential to the business of living. I am at a loss on how to proceed at this time. But I’ll figure it out eventually.

I know this makes me sound incredibly “bitchy” and “mean”, but I value respect more than “romance” in any relationship. The shallow romance eventually fizzles-out but if you have genuine respect and true friendship with your partner, then that is a relationship that will withstand any test (I’ve seen it from many good people I know). You would forgo the need to “constantly monitor” or “control” your partner because you know that they truly respect you as a person of value and therefore avoid anything that would cause you hurt and loss of dignity. Anything based on that is carved in Adamantium (#geekmode). Well that’s what I believe.

I also believe in constant self-improvement and enjoying life as much as I can. I just needed to get this out of my system, hence the necessity of this post. 😉

Gender-roles and “fag hags”

Lately, I’ve been wondering why I have (had) so many gay friends. In fact, I’ve never been without a gay friend. From the time I started school through the various jobs and places I’ve been, I’ve always found it easy to befriend gay men. I also have a lot of  straight guy and women friends but it’s a whole different matter with gay guy-straight women friendships.

In my searches across the internet, I came across the term “fag hag” or women who have a lot of  or prefer gay men for friends. While I would never call my gay friends fags (lest I be bitch-slapped to death), and I’m certainly far from being a hag (well maybe during my “younger years”, but now I have better fashion sense, no small thanks to my sassy gay friends), I found it rather fascinating that there is some sort of “phenomena” behind this.

I’ve read a lot of purported reasons why women would purposely seek the company of gay men. But here’s my two cents. I think it’s because these gay guys are like me in the sense that they fall somewhere in between the gender-role spectrum. There’s the “overly feminine” and the “overly masculine” and there’s the somewhere in the middle. Before assumptions are made, I am not romantically or sexually attracted to any of my gay friends (that’s just a big no-no). Nor do I wish that they are straight. I like them just the way they are.

Let me explain further. While I would definitely identify myself as 100% heterosexual, I also tend to embody a lot of “masculine” traits which tend to either confuse or intimidate straight guys (I’m speaking from experience). What do I mean by confuse? Most of the time, just because I’m into “guy stuff” (like comics, violent video games, gory movies, military history/fiction, etc) they would assume that I’m certainly not straight or automatically relegate me to “just a friend” status . I am extremely annoyed by this. Where was it written that because I’m a woman, I can’t be interested in those things and still be straight?? Hey, I also happen to like cross-stitching and knitting! Couldn’t they exist side by side?

Sorry, I seem to have lost my composure there for a bit. But being an artist, I find it useful that I can appreciate both the “masculine” and the” feminine”. So I’ve drawn a bad-ass looking Jedi Knight, does that mean I can’t draw a great sexy pin-up of Nancy Callahan from Sin City? I don’t think so.

Another thing is, while I’m certainly far from fat, I’m not frail-as-waif  either (for body type comparison, see Battlestar Galactica’s Kara Thrace). I happen to possess bones that do not break at the slightest pressure. Is that a problem now?? Add my slightly “tomboyish” attitude. I wear make-up, dresses (I’m more of a tee/blouse and jeans person though) and all, but I guess it’s more of the way I carry myself. I hold my head high and swing my arms (not my hips!!) when I walk. And I walk rather fast. I could also be rather direct. Although I generally try to avoid arguments and would rather have things be resolved peacefully if possible. But once  my tolerance (which is considerable) is breached, then we really have a problem. I do not slap people, I’d rather punch them.

Point is, this is who I am and I don’t intend to bend over backwards to please some guy. So far, only one person (from my last relationship) has managed to understand  and like me they way I am. We had have had our differences of course (and so the relationship is sort of over) but that’s one of the things I liked about him. He had no problem with me loving gory/horror films, Call of Duty or Fallout (with the same enthusiasm that he has). Maybe because he is such a geek as well. But you know what I mean.

So, back to the topic of gay men. So my gay friends accept me for who I am. They are generally fun to be with (witty, sarcastic and funny). They call out my BS when they have to and do not let me wallow in self pity. They would boost my self confidence and give great fashion advise (I would still be wearing sweats to the office if not for them). Plus they open doors and carry my stuff for me too. And they’re not doing it to get in my pants because we love the same thing: men.

Liz Lemon-ing (or should I start considering buying a cat?) Part 1

Highlight of the weekend:  I went to heaven, I mean the Manila International Book Fair, yesterday.

Listening to: “Now We Are Free” – Lisa Gerrard live at Milan (I’ve loved her music for more than 10 years. It speaks to the soul and takes you somewhere else entirely. Whenever I hear this song I am standing on an open field, just a few steps from the beach, the sun is shining; the wind ruffles my hair and I wave my arms and embrace the infinite heavens. I hear the cry of a seagull close by. The waters are a clear emerald from where I stand. It is all so peaceful. I wish I could stay here).

I woke up this morning with an urge to finish the last piece of chocolate cake sitting on the fridge downstairs. That or some spaghetti with cheese.

On January 2012, I’ll be 29 years old (oh wow, really?) and while my life is not so bad (I have a job w/ a somewhat lucrative salary- in spite of what I might think about it. Tons of friends who really care about me), sometimes a realization just hits me hard (like the Deathstar beam vaporizing Alderaan in one quick *zap* *boom*), how in the blerg did this happen?? I’ve never particularly “planned” my life when I was younger. But I have an idea on how a “normal” life should go. I’m sure there are quirks along the way, but still it should have certain recognizable highlights. Such as:

>”That time when  you danced and socialized happily during Prom” –

To me it’s “that time I considered going to the catering area and chatting up the staff so they would give me second helpings of the entire menu”. Prom was quite an embarassing  and somewhat bewildering time for me. And I never attended the second one (during my senior year). My dress as I recall was lousy, more suited to one of those “El Shaddai” events on TV than a Junior-Senior Prom. I saw my female classmates arriving one by one wearing one gorgeous dress after another. The questions in my mind then were, “How did they know what to wear?” “Was there something I missed?” “Were they part of some conspiracy?” And I never really saw the point anyway. All I could think of was “How long until this is over?” and “Can I go home now?” I think I might have had one dance. And then I spent the night hanging around the fringes (thinking of escape methods should a fire occur). I’m quite sure my friends had a better assessment of the event than I did. Some people might say it’s just the a prom, but to me it’s an indication of how I managed to enter womanhood, not with grace but with a sputter like a clogged exhaust pipe. I think the pipe has been clogged ever since.

>”That time when you should understand the complicated dance of consorting with the opposite sex and the art of looking good.”

Never really understood this one. The whole “flowers-and-chocolate-flirting-sweep-you-off-your-feet” ritual. My last boyfriend (whom I will now refer to as “Dennis” after Liz Lemon’s erstwhile BF)  and I didn’t exactly follow that routine. Though we had loads of conversations/debates about geekery (movies, videogames, the whole nerdy nine yards). And truth be told, I am not quite sure what our current status is at the moment, but I guess the whole thing is over more or less, given the fact that I haven’t seen him since the Cretaceous Period. I’m of the Sex and the City generation and somehow I couldn’t relate to the four main characters. I might be closer to Carrie since I am an aspiring writer, but I don’t have a closet full of designer clothes, with the designer bags and shoes to go with each of them, and don’t spend the weekends sipping champagne in the swankiest locations possible. I also do not date the city’s most eligible bachelors every other weekend (well maybe not exactly,but you know what I mean).

My closet space looks like it hasn’t been organized since the moon landing. It has been invaded by books mostly. And no designer clothes anywhere. The most expensive piece of clothing I own is a sort of dress-blouse from TopShop (sale at 999 PHP) and a sweater from Kamiseta (1,300 PHP), both of which I bought in a very rare fit of insanity. Weekends are usually spent with friends or in front of the TV/laptop (while eating all manner of artery-hardening foods, ahaha!) or mostly curled up reading a book or drawing. I just remembered, I didn’t wash some of my not-so-dirty laundry again this weekend, which is typical. Back to the matter at hand,  I think looking good (both for the sake of looking good and attracting the members of the opposite sex like flies to rotting meat, wait – did I just say that?) is hard work. It requires meticulous planning. Which outfit goes with what, what colors go with this and that and so on. After many years, I finally figured out that it’s something I’m not really interested in. I don’t dress like a hobo though (except maybe at home), but I’m not exactly “glamour girl” either. I’d rather spend my energies in what I deem to be more worthwhile pursuits.

And again, on the “subtle” art of flirting, I’m flying blind. It’s not that I can’t converse, it’s just that I don’t really know what the blerg am I suppose to say so that the conversation will lead to wherever it’s supposed to go, at least according to most chick flicks I occasionally watch. Probably not something like “Into the garbage chute flyboy!”, lest it’d be misconstrued or “I am really interested in what you have to say, you scruffy-looking nerf-herder.” It sounds like I’m picking a fight or something.

A Disquiet Follows My Soul..

(Listening to: “I Cut Class” by Christopher Libertino)

Now that is one really bad-ass title.

No. I didn’t come up with that. I just borrowed one of the episode titles from Battlestar Galactica. But it is true in essence, as a certain “disquiet follows my soul”.  Now before I get accused of excessively complaining (which considering that this is my blog and all, I can pretty much do if I wanted), I’m not.  Maybe it’s an existential thing, something about not being able to achieve your true potential (this is not an ego thing either – come to think of it I have a pretty healthy self esteem, but not of the Kanye West variety).

Anyway, before I get sidetracked by these parenthesis or whatever is the plural for parenthesis, I just want to say that although I am grateful for all the things I’ve achieved last year and hopefully this year too. I feel as though I have traded something that is an important part of myself. That is being able to be me. Contrary to my considerably well groomed appearance (see picture on the side bar, which although far from looking like Angelina Jolie, is 100 times better looking than the Yeti – no offense intended, in case the aforementioned Yeti is reading this instead of being busy scaring mountaineers); I rather enjoy being a slob, meaning in the olden days before I discovered that people tend to be total assholes when it comes to judging one’s appearance, I tend to not take a bath for “a while” or just go with whatever I happened to pull out of my closet and not comb my hair (really, that’s done on purpose).

That’s my idea of an extended “F*ck You!” to this “lookist” and superficial society we have.  I mean my mental capacity was in no way diminished if I do not go out looking like I have an entourage of stylists. That’s true in theory. I rather enjoyed seeing people’s reactions when I come in looking like a hippie during job interviews to corporate haunts where people are mostly expected to appear  like their clothes came from (insert designer brand here). They’d assume -very incorrectly- that whatever’s going to come out of my mouth would sound like this “gobbledy-gook-gfagakstbhshnks”, some interviewers would be a bit surprised that I sound articulate. How superficial can you get, really. Or that must be some primal instinct at work (that we tend to turn away from all that is unclean – even unclean looking – as it reminds us of death and decay).

Miraculously, I managed to snag some rather nice jobs through sheer force of will or talent, which again has nothing(!) to do with my face. But all through out I get a lot needling from some ehem..very well meaning people that I should really do something about my appearance. Something along the lines of  “why don’t you wear some make up?”, “buy decent clothes”  and “stop eating siomai and halo-halo three times a day”. That sort of insidious assault eventually got to me and I started cleaning up my “hobo-in-the-city” act. So now, instead of being out of the house in 30 minutes or so I have to spend an hour at most on all these rituals for the sake of being more conventional. What I’m actually saying here amidst all these ramblings is that I miss the days when things were a lot simpler, when I spend hours and hours holed up in my room just drawing, or reading. My ultimate question is that will there be a time when people would eventually get past judging by appearance and focus more on character? (oh my, what a lovely cerebellum you’ve got! ha ha) .

The alternative is to run to the hills and live the rest of my life as some kind of hermit. But well, I guess we have “The Law of Equivalent Exchange” to blame.

Enough of that for now. Time for some randomness.

I cut my finger yesterday while “heroically” washing the dishes that someone left on the kitchen sink the night before. The big bad cup with the sharp edges got me. I didn’t realize that the cut was deep enough that I did not pay attention to it, not until I saw copious amounts of blood in the sink. So I decided to rummage around looking for plain old Band-aid, as bleeding to death from such a small cut is definitely not an option. No, I did not start crying either. But alas no Band Aid can be found in the immediate vicinity. Had to run to the store. Lesson learned? Aside from be careful when washing dishes and throw out those potentially dangerous cups with broken “ears”. Always have some first aid materials at home, that way you won’t be hard pressed to buy some gauze from the nearest drugstore while trying to hold your intestines together (now that sounds a little extreme, but really you never know).

I think it’s time for some “Sanity Maintenance Day”. That’s when you attempt to preserve your waning grip on reality by devoting some due time on activities you enjoy (in my case that’s taking long walks or drawing or conversing with someone I miss badly). Well, if you’re the type of person who enjoys staring at the ceiling all day that’s fine too. I remember the last time I took “Sanity Maintenance Time” for five months in between jobs. I thoroughly enjoyed sleeping at the local park (like your everyday homeless person), drawing, writing on my journals and eating nothing (well, maybe not that part so much, as I like to eat). But you’ve got to live with the consequences  (the reason I spent so much time in the park was that I’m trying to escape the daily dose of potent nagging courtesy of my mother. Things like it’s time you pull your head out of the clouds as there are bills to be paid). So there, I want to go somewhere faraway on Saturday (that is if that certain someone does not show up).

I recently discovered “San Marino Tuna Paella”. It’s pretty good. The ultimate lifesaver for people like me who have problems with cooking properly. The tuna is already mixed with rice (as any normal paella dish would go). You can eat it straight out of the can. It’s Friday (last day on the job this week). Perfectly alright to stay up a little late. Don’t feel sleepy yet. Although I’m hungry.

I rarely watch TV these days (even the news, I can always get them on any DOT-com versions of the news channels anyway). I despise the current content of Philippine local TV. Especially the prime time, not to be snobbish or worse a “colonialist”, but I absolutely cannot relate to any of the characters they put out. The same reason I never watch Sex and the City or Gossip Girl, I find them shallow. I’d much rather indulge in sci-fi. But that’s me. I downloaded the DVD /Torrent incarnations of some shows (on cable) that managed to catch my attention. I liked “The Event” recently. I don’t expect it to be on the same level as Galactica, but there’s a lot of potential for character development and more (exciting? horrific?)  revelations. I haven’t picked any favourite characters yet. Although I am partial to Simon Lee, President Elias Martinez and Sophia Maguirre (I find her very interesting).

Just encountered a very bad-ass name at work. It’s Tywanda Bloodworth. I imagine not many people would want to mess with you if you’re named as such. Kudos to the parents (along with the wise ancestors, who had enough sense to pick the name).


I haven’t written anything at all since December 15, 2010. That is not to say that nothing of import has happened. It’s just that I’m either too busy to write anything or I can’t seem to pull my thoughts in order. So, why am I writing now? For one thing, I have  a splitting headache, I feel like my head is about to burst. Why? Well a couple of things.

One. There’ s the recent failure of communication between me and “someone”. I don’t think the subsequent argument and all the words thrown back and forth (from both sides) are necessary, but nevertheless happened. A  reasoned argument would have been sufficient. Of course, I do realize that I share the blame, but still. In any case, somewhere in that moment I think I finally tied all the threads together and was close to pointing out the source of the altercation. But alas, I lost the thread to a throbbing headache. And not to mention that we are both stubborn people.

Two. There’s the problem with finances. For some reason, I have now become the sole breadwinner of sorts. Not that I’m complaining. No, wait. I am complaining. Problem is there’s not much I could do about it. It’s like having a choice between cutting off your arm or staying shackled. I really can’t begin to describe the nature of my dilemma. It has more plot twists than an M. Night Shyamalan movie. But wait let me try.

My mom got hospitalized last December, and I shouldered most of the bills. Wait before someone starts thinking I’m such an asshole, what I’m saying is that I absolutely loathe being pushed into this role. I mean it’s fine I can share “if I feel like it”, not because I have to do it, not because everyone thinks it’s what I’m supposed to be doing! I know it probably sounds like it doesn’t make any sense. Hell, maybe it doesn’t make sense. I’m not the only child! I’m not the only family member, I still have a brother and a father (who on the other hand has been sending me messages for a few days now, asking me to “help” them again! I’ve already helped them, is it now my sole obligation to SEND THEM money every month???!) I mean why can’t my brother get a steady job in the mean time? I know he’s waiting for his big break in comics, but while waiting  can’t he work at least part time?? So he can help out with the bills. All my plans for this year and this month has been thrown out the effing window! And no one seems to care that this is not the job I want, as long as I send the money they can continue smiling.

What, I’m supposed to work night shifts until I’m 40 or something?? In case they didn’t know, I’m 28 years old! I should at least have a life and a career of my own choosing (and that is NOT to be at a call center. As I’ve mentioned many times before. I want to be a portrait artist and nothing else). I should get to spend my earnings the way I deem fit! I just want to go to Siberia at this very moment. I don’t want to go to work anymore (but that simply wouldn’t do). If I don’t slog at this job, I’m dead. So what do I want? I just want to rest from my responsibilities. I’m tired. This thing isn’t going anywhere.

What would make me happy is that if I can resign from the job say at least a month. And get to draw and relax somewhere far away, no effing bills to think about. Just draw. Just relax. I haven’t drawn anything this year. It’s killing me.

Three. I’ve got some added responsibilities at work. For reasons unknown to me, the people I work with thinks it is such a  good idea to nominate me as the head of the Rewards and Recognition Committee. I might have to abdicate. I simply DO NOT have the time or the inclination. I think I’m supposed to submit a report today or something.

Insanity runs in my family… practically gallops.

Another very appropriate quote would be “All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again.”

Anyway, just a quick look at my day so far. Let’s do it ala Bridget Jones.

5:30 am – Got home after a rather “hectic” shift. Checked phone (which was left near the kitchen counter the night before and caused me to miss the alarm. If  Panda* didn’t wake  me up, I’d be late for work). Found several messages from mum (the contents of which I will not discuss here). All I will say is that it annoyed the frak out of me (considering I’m used to actually hearing them, as opposed to just getting the written version). Decided to do some cleaning to keep my mind off the messages. To say they are dramatic would be the understatement of the decade.

6:15ish – Panda got here (with food – Sisig and rice in tow). Discussed bits of the day with him. We went upstairs (raised eyebrows). And the rest as they say is history.

8:30ish – Panda left for home (*sad). I in the meantime slept for a bit (I’ve recently taken to using my Significant Other’s jacket as a blanket. I think he finds it rather amusing, same as when I tell him he has a distinctive odor – which is neither good nor bad).

12:00ish – woke up.Found my friend Art downstairs having a mood over the lack of sound from his laptop. Promised to try and fix said problem.

– Called Panda. Good thing he’s still awake. 🙂 Sent message to the “Computer Lady”. Here’s to hoping she actually replies this time.

– Used System Restore to fix the sound problem after a few false trials.

1:58ish – contemplating whether to actually go to Market Market to send the money (but I’ll probably do it tomorrow – too hot outside). Funny thing is as soon as she get’s the money, I’m suddenly Princess Diana as opposed to Erzebeth Bathory.

– Getting visions of her practically throwing me out of the house a few years back. Can you imagine staying at the local park like some vagrant until 6:00 PM just to avoid the daily harassment? And she keeps on asking me why I don’t like to go home. *sigh*

*Panda = Significant Other. 🙂

I suppose this would be a bad time..

…to get pregnant. That is why I’m crossing my fingers  in the mean time. I’ve already told two of my closest friends, just in case, and they promised to give me their full support. Whatever happens. Oh, the miracle of friends.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling weird lately (I mean, I really am weird but let’s just say the weirdness just amped up), started last week. Especially the last three days. I just haven’t paid much attention to it. The only obvious sign I know is morning sickness (w/c hasn’t happened yet, and let’s really cross our fingers here). So again, I decided to do a bit of research. And what I’ve found is mildly disturbing (hold the panic button please)…

1. Missed Period. This might not be applicable to me since I have a rather irregular period. I’m still waiting until next week, if I don’t get one. I’ll ask “Ina Magenta” to accompany me to Makati Med. The earlier I know the better, so I can take some appropriate measures.

2. Breast Tenderness. Positive. But I’m hoping that this is because I’m going to have my period in the next few days. There’s also something about the darkening of the areola (I’ve checked but I can’t be sure). And swelling (which is definitely happening), but still.

3. Fatigue. Oh yeah, this one is a positive. Or it could be the extra work I’ve been getting. Anyway, I’ve handled it before with no problem. Only thing I’ve noticed is that there are times when I feel like I want to just drop to sleep in the middle of my shift. The urge is pretty strong and quite irrational, it’s like my mind telling me, “You need to sleep NOW!”. I’ve fallen asleep at work before, but not like this. I’ve taken to stamping my foot lately to prevent myself from falling asleep too much. As this would be a really, really bad time to get suspended or worse, fired from the job.My friends will certainly not let me down, but I don’t want to be a burden. And feeling tired for no reason at all. But it could just be the stress.

4. Frequent Urination. Not too sure about this. As I don’t drink that much water. But I suppose I urinate quite a bit regularly than usual. But that could also be because I work directly under the airconditioning.

5. Nausea. Well it happens a month into the pregnancy according to the article. So  no comment about that. Just hoping it won’t get to that.

6. Dizzyness/Fainting. None of that so far.

7. Food cravings/Aversions to food.  I’ve always had cravings of a sort from time to time so this cannot be a sure sign for me. But I’ve taken to liking Coffee Chip shakes lately. But I suppose it will pass as well.

8.  Sensitivity to Aromas. This one I did not know to be a symptom, so I’m a bit surprised when I read it.  Something about last Friday, I clearly smelled brewed coffee as though I’m in the middle of a coffee factory or as if someone was using coffee as their perfume and it’s really bothering me. I almost asked my supervisor why the frak does it smell like coffee?! I checked where the smell is coming from and was a bit surprised to find that its coming from 2 rows away. But then I’m probably just extra atuned to the smell of coffee. LOL.

9. Constipation. A bit. But that was probably because I don’t drink that much water.

10. Mood swings/Irritability. Oh boy, this one is very postive. Of course Ive always been moody so it’s kind of hard to tell. This is a bit different, but it could be stress. I’ve taken to slamming the mouse down these past few days (which I have never done before), and sometimes “snapping” at my collegues (and my supervisor on occasion such as last Wednesday, good thing he’s rather understanding about it). Abel said I’m a bit hot headed lately. Hmmm. And last Thursday, I got trapped under a shed when it was raining really hard for about 30 minutes, I already feel like crying (which is definitely irrational). My mind was filled with thoughts like “STOP RAINING THIS VERY MINUTE!” I even shook my fist at the cloudy sky. Geez. If anyone saw me, they’d defintely think I’m a loon. Even my music at work irritates me lately. And general feeling of quesy-ness. Another reason I shift sitting positions at work.

11. Higher body temperature. I don’t normally check so I don’t know.

12.  Lower Back Pain. Happening definitely. But again, Im hoping this is because I’m going to have my period.

13. Bloating and Weight Gain. Oh yeah, I definitely feel bloated. Because I’m eating quite a lot. So that doesn’t really tell me anything.

14. Positive Pregnancy Test. I will widthhold testing until after two weeks. And it’s better to go to the doctor anyway.

15. Vaginal Discharge. Positive. But like I said, we’ll wait it out for a week and if nothing happens to the Makati Med we go.

So there, like the old saying “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.”  If  in case it happens, I’ll definitely stand by my (theoretical) child. Because I believe the baby picks up the mother’s emotions. The last thing the child needs is to feel unwanted or confused. Besides, I’ve been weighing my options, and I don’t run away from my problems (despite what some people might think or say). Further on, I’m thinking of definitely going abroad as I would only want the best for him/her.

Like I said, I’ve already told my friends. And their concern is heart-warming (I joked we’d be like the characters from Queer as Folk) We even had laughs about naming the theoretical baby “Artisia Riyanna” (girl) or “Arthur Ryan” (boy).  But “Winter Solstice” (girl) and “River Phoenix”(boy) takes the cake.They went to great lengths to cheer me up last night (as I’ve taken to crying at every available moment). Ina Magenta kept telling me that it’s not the end of the world.

Some additional thoughts, I suppose I’ll be like my mom, huh? Going to work 9 months into the pregnancy. Whatever issues I have with her, this is the one quality I admire about her.

Oh, the father you say, just in case? In absentia. Cannot be reached. Ran to the hills of yore. Missing in action.  I’m really lucky (sarcasm)…

Abangan na lang natin ang susunod na kabanata..