Some late night thoughts

I’ve been doing some thinking tonight, and I’ve come to the conclusion that none of the guys in my life really, truly loved me.

“I love you” means shit unless you actually prove it. I just realized that so far, I have seen none of that proof.

With that said and done, I suppose I shall now go back to my cynical, man-hating ways. Until of course, I bump into the next handsome guy who claims to be madly in love with me and manages to win my bruised and battered heart through his flair for making bullshit sound so damn sincere.

Love is a nothing but a load of crap. And most guys are assholes. (I’d say all instead of some but that wouldn’t be fair, would it?)

Good night.

Protected: The dilemmas of a sociable introvert

Grudges can be a bad thing

For some reason I woke up at 8 a.m. with a slight fever, a cold, and my sense of smell and taste gone. Grrr. I spent the morning sneezing and lying in bed, and after lunch I decided that I didn’t want to spend my entire day at home, eating Cinnabon and chewing on chewy homemade chocolate chip cookies that I can’t even taste. So I asked my not-so-little younger sister if she was still up to seeing The Grudge. Thankfully she wasn’t having one of those I-have-to-get-the-highest-grades-in-class-or-else moods, so it was off to Glorietta for the two of us. The truth is, I’m surprised that my sister wanted to see The Grudge with me. I shriek like a girl, and I can shriek really loud. Definitely not your ideal horror-movie companion. But I suppose it’s about time we had some sisterly bonding.

During the car ride to Glorietta, Marielle and I started whining about running into people from our high schools. “That’s the thing I hate about G4,” she grumbled. “It’s like the second building of CSA’s high school department.” She was pissed at certain people in the pilot section of her batch and obviously didn’t want to see them. As for me, I have this kind of grudge against my high school batchmates. They didn’t want to have anything to do with me because I speak English “like a conyo”, and I made my bad relationship with everyone even worse when I publicly proclaimed how stupid the cheerleading contest at our school was. The thing that confuses me is that I don’t know if I should say hi to my batchmates or not when I run into them at the mall. I like to think that I am well-bred girl, and my manners dictate that waving at them is the polite thing to do. But on the other hand, why should I start being my batchmates’ new best friend when I spent my entire high school life ignoring and dedicating every single angry song I could think of to them?

When we got to the cinemas, we learned to our dismay that there were no more seats for the 1:50 show. The next one was at 4, two hours and a half later. In order to amuse ourselves during the long wait, Marielle and I made up this contest about who will run into the most people from our respective high schools. I scored first around an hour later. A batchmate of mine was entering the store we were in at the same time we were leaving, and she smiled and waved at me. “Lauren!” she called out cheerfully. I smiled and waved back. “Hi.” Well, that wasn’t so hard now, was it? Made me feel a little like a beauty pagaent contestant–the fake smile and the demure, ladylike hand wave. But it was all good.

Saw two more high school batchmates buying tickets for the 4 pm show of The Grudge. One was buying the tickets and obviously didn’t see me. The other one was waiting in line. She was looking at me, or at least, was looking at my direction. She seemed to be glaring. I pretended like that glare wasn’t meant for me.

Thankfully, those were the only people from high school that I saw today. Whew. My sister saw only three people from school as well, and lucky for her they didn’t belong to the pilot section.

The Grudge has got to be the scariest movie I have ever seen. Don’t expect a detailed storyline though, because there isn’t any. Watch it only if you feel like getting the living shit scared out of you. God–do those people have grudges. And I thought I was pissed at my high school batchmates. Oh well, the past belongs to the past, but it’s hard to forget when certain incidents trigger those old feelings of rejection and angst, angst, ANGST.