Halloween

I am going to attend a Halloween themed rock show on Friday, October 31st. A few final touches and my costume is ready to be donned. I am not a big fan of Halloween but a lot of friends and bands whom I haven't seen in awhile are going to be there, so I am very much enthusiastic about everything. I am going as this creature:

























This big murky gray guy is a TOTORO. (Click name to know more)
Even if I had not seen the entire film, I fell in love with totoro. He is just too adorable that is why I chose to be him at the party. I wanted to be kung fu panda but I didn't have the resources and time to make a panda costume. I don't like the idea of me going as a scary character. Just the thought gives me goosebumps and I have a terrible thing about scary stuff. Encounters with such things give me dreadful nightmares. I don't mean for it to happen but it just happens! That is also why I never watch horror films. Though I enjoy hearing the plot summaries from my friends who were able to watch it.

When I was much a kid, all we did on Hallow's eve was go to sleep early so we'd rise up the next morning ready to go visit our dead relatives at the local cemetery. Trick or treating is not a big thing here in the Philippines. On Halloween, I think that old t.v. show, Magandang Gabi, Bayan, is a lot more of a ritual for everyone than costume parties. This weekly show that used to air every Saturday would present a Halloween special every year where they feature ghost stories and horrifying urban legends that could make any person's blood curdle. They interview unfortunate people that had allegedly gone through all those creepy experiences, tour inside haunted houses with the cameramen and fortunately capture two or more sightings of something not our kind. We all then go to bed tightly tucking ourselves in, three kids in a single sized bed. A few moments later, we would then decide to crash our parents' bedroom to finally get some sleep.

I know some people who are big fans of scaring themselves to death or testing how much they can stand scary stuff. I am just not one of them. As much as I would like to feed my curiosity for anything horror, I would never trade my peaceful and rejuvenating slumber for sweaty panic attacks every few times a night.

I think costume parties are a bigger hit now than before. In time, trick or treating could become a popular practice in our land. Last week, in my little sister's school, they made the younger children dress up and trick or treat in the older kids' classrooms. As for me, this will be my second time ever to go attend a party in character. The first one was a few years ago, as a Japanese girl in geisha semi-makeup, Japanese slippers and Kimono robe. I remember being drunk as hell from jello shots that time.

This year, I expect to be a drunk-as-hell Totoro.

Kampai!

Writer.

Last Friday, right after I turned in my exam paper, my teacher (who is also our H.R.M. and Tourism department's Chairman) asked me if I'm graduating this year. I said no and that I expect to graduate next year, at least if everything stays smooth-sailing. I asked him why and he told me that he had been planning to come up with a magazine for our department and he'll be getting me as a writer.

I said yes.

I've had some people ask me to write but it's definitely my first time to be asked by a teacher or an authority to write for something as important as a school publication. Voluntarily contributing is one thing but being tasked is a whole new level. I felt glorious. I also thought to myself 'yes, finally.' I wanted to do a Tom Cruise at that moment but there was no couch. Truth is, I've been feeling quite low the past few weeks and this was, as far as I can remember, the best pick-me-up I've ever had.

I've been writing since I knew how. Although I admit that right now, I love reading more than writing. One reason could be because I feel inadequate and that I need to learn more. Plus, I am my worst critic. Thank God for computers, can you imagine how much paper I'd be wasting for revisions? But I figured, I wouldn't be able to enhance and improve myself unless I practice (ergo, this blog among other things). More practice will ensue for me if that magazine will realize materially. I can't wait.

I will totally spill all the details for sure. Celebrate with me when it happens?

Eleni

This is Eleni Mancao Demirci. She was born on August 21, 2008 at 6:15 am in the great land of chocolate, Switzerland.

The daughter of my sister Fritzie Marie and her husband Dimitro, she is my niece and it's a shame how it took me almost a month to post a baby shoutout!

Of Filipino/Greek/Turkish blood, she's going to be a total babe later in life which is something I can relate to. LOL

Yes.

The single life.

Not to confuse it with the Paris Hilton-Nicole Richie show. I know I am not totally qualified to post the wisdom of an old maid. At least not yet. But what if I've already made up my mind about the path I am going to take in life? I may not be a spinster (not yet) but that is not too far in sight. I am 25, single (as in not dating single) and had lost faith in such things a long time ago. Once, I was talking to a friend and she said the problem with me is that I have such high standards. But I refuse to believe that. I have come across people that I really liked to be with but then there is always something major that gets in the way. And if ever my standards are high, I didn't mean it.

More than once, in times when life was just so lonely, I used to wish I'm a little bit dumber. Dumb enough to not care about standards. Dumb enough to hook up. Hooking up is really easy you know. You just make yourself available and cheap. If not cheap, then free. You go out at night, make yourself up, a cocktail in one hand (it's sexier than beer), slow dance all by yourself in the middle of the club, eyes half closed scanning across the room and you will never be lonely. If it worked for me then it should for any girl. But then it was terrifying and that's how I can tell I'm going the wrong direction.

I was in a club with a friend one night and she said that if ever that Big Brother show comes up with a DESPERATE Edition, we'd totally be in it. Then we drank to that.

I'm not going to be a hypocrite. As much as I am not fond of 'just-because' relationships, I get really lonely and dark. That is why I go out. But I don't put out either so the nightlife is not as wild as people would like to think. It's more of like how people go out and drink to get their mind off work. I go out to get my mind off loneliness.

I told my mother that I don't want marriage. I also don't want to bring children to this world. Don't get me wrong, I am totally fond of children. Not contradicting my screen name but right now, I really think that one positive thing I can do is to be realistic. It is also a selfless act, to not let myself enjoy and be absorbed by fantastical feelings of rearing someone as an extension of who you are or who you would've wanted to be. No matter how you deny that fact, you know there's a bit of truth in it one way or another. There will come a point in your mother/father-child relationship where your kids will decide to be themselves and then you tell them they're wrong because that's not what you had in mind. I will never wish that on a child. Also, some people are just not cut out to become parents.

My mother (who is not a fan of domesticated animals in her home) told me to never say never. I say whatever I say is not a promise, it's only what I momentarily believe in. Who knows I might meet someone who's strong enough to prove me wrong. Otherwise, I see myself in ten years living with a bunch of adorable cats.

Thank you for smoking.

I am not necessarily fond of cigarettes but if you wave one to my face and it happens that we are in the middle of a drinking session I would beg to have that one stick. I remember when I turned edge many years ago, I had to give up drinking. Had to, because of urinary tract infection. People might find it poseur-ish when you choose a lifestyle just because you have to - or you are advised medically to do it. What is overlooked is that you also have the choice to not take that advice. I quit drinking because I was afraid to experience that pain again. That UTI incident was the worst pain of my life. I felt my hips are going to split. It was worse than undergoing a chest tattoo. It was like having a child.

When I am with a crowd, I get offered a lot of booze and smoke. So I tell them I am on medication for them to back off. I thought it was going to sink in to them somehow but the next time we get together, it's the same old thing.

Just have one. Just one. Here's a stick. But I don't feel like smoking without having able to drink. So just have one drink and one smoke.

I couldn't live with it - having to say no every few minutes. Back then, I also couldn't live at home on a weekend. I was the only sober person in the crowd and the crowd couldn't tell what I'm doing there. My feelings of being a killjoy was confirmed when someone walked up to me and said 'you make us feel weird that you're not drinking'. I know, I nodded. People get uncomfortable when they are dealing with something they have no name for. So one night, I told them I am off medication but - I quit drinking and smoking. They ask why. I said, I just chose to quit. Then someone (I forgot who it was) said, you're straight edge. From then on, they call me that and I was known to be the only sXe person in that crowd and I totally enjoyed the privilege of drinking fresh milk or fruit juice in front of them without ever having to go through being offered a drink and smoke every 5 minutes. I saw that since, I am straight edge, they now feel comfortable drinking around me because what I'm doing had a name.

But that was a long time ago.

I am currently an occasional drinker and smoker. The "edge" of my past was just okay to look back to. To reminisce and get the fuzzy feeling of abstinence, that I once was a thirsty person saying no to that dewy glass of drink.

I'm glad I have overcome that bullcrap. LOL.

When friends become strangers.

When you are with somebody who is and had been special to you for quite a long period of time, it's not likely to cross your mind how this person could exit your life.
I would have wanted this post to be some sort of a tell-all but I changed my mind. Because in life, there is one thing that I am certain of, and that is anything can happen. Now, I wouldn't want to write things I might regret later on the way I did with some stuff in my blogs before but I guess that is all a part of the growth process. With it, also comes the chance for comparisons. The befores and afters, the what could have beens.

"Burning bridges" is like a song in my head that I can't sing. It's playing all the time but I couldn't let it out of my mouth. I can't blurt it out. I couldn't do it. It's wishful thinking. It amazes me how some could do it easily. It must be depending upon the gravity of the situation or the weight of the other party's fault.

Burning bridges.

Can you imagine taking someone out of your life. Peeling off everything you have to do with that person? Lifting off every imaginable great times. Sometimes forgiving but ultimately forgetting?

I have a friend who told me once, that she is capable of doing this. I'd like to think that I am too, and I have tried it but with the help of distance, not communicating and totally avoiding their way. Until now, I am able to keep them away but I still have to come up with something to say if ever we bump into each other with no excuse for me to not say hi. "I'm sorry, wrong person!"
"You must be talking about my long lost twin sister!" "I had amnesia" "Ha? Who are you?!" I might as well run away you know.

It's true that the more people you meet, the more people become candidates to be forgotten. Sometimes, I lay on my bed and wonder why I let this person in to my life in the first place. How could I have not smelled the ten thousand dead rats? Instead, I noticed the hint of shampoo in their hair. I only get to realize it when it's too late. We're already friends.



It actually takes time to discover it. It's not like a friend commits one mistake and you tell yourself the friendship's over. Even if she stole your boyfriend, there are things to consider especially when that friendship had been built years and years ago. It's never one mistake. I found that it adds up, one little disappointment at a time. Then you wake up and ask yourself why you never want to see or speak with that person again. Then you think you're such an awful person for even thinking about it. Then you blame yourself.

Then you stick with that person another few years ignoring the signs, dealing with it without doing anything to amicably settle things putting up with all the silly things thinking it's not a big deal. Thing is, you really don't want to hurt anyone and end up hurting yourself. It's really like a bad marriage if you ask me. Like a bomb ticking, waiting to blow your brains out.

So what are your options?
What are really friends for?
Are these friends worth your love?
Who can answer these questions?

People are so afraid of being alone in the world, the Pope even noticed it. In World Youth Day this year he talked about how people nowadays are nurturing a quiet sense of despair. So maybe this is it. We take in as many people as we like to have in our lives like there's no tomorrow. This is evident in our myspaces and friendsters and facebooks. This is evident in open relationships. This is evident in our lives.

I'm not discouraging the endless possibilities of creating friendships throughout my life. But one thing I would keep reminding myself is that there is a time for holding on, and a time for letting go. Completely.

The end of things.

Kyas moved to the next round last Monday at 11 am. If it was 11 am exactly, I wouldn't know. I wasn't there. Why is it that we think knowledge is power? If I would have known he was going to die that time, that day, I would have gathered my resources to be by his side and this goes out to every person I still consider as a friend.

Why do we love beating deadlines?

We don't accept it, but that's a fact. We are addicted to deadlines. It's funny how it's called deadlines. It's the end of the line. Unless, the boss is kind, he may give an extension. Like how God delays our deaths every moment of every day. Have you ever thought about it? Every breath we take is an extension to a deadline. We are already dead though it's just a matter of time. Unless, of course, someone had discovered immortality potion or fountain of youth or any spell that could make you live forever which I think is kind of dumb. There's no person in his right mind who would like to live forever. If you like that, I hate to say this but you're crazy. You're the type who would play level 1 of games and never proceed to the next level. You're crazy.

We love beating deadlines.
And we almost always end up too late.

A few months ago in summer, my dad's oldest brother died. He wasn't very old just in his early 60's. He lived a full life and that was what really matters, doesn't it? He wasn't a procrastinator I can tell because he's a popular AM Radio personality and being that comes a great deal of responsibilities. I was thinking about how when there are times you don't like to get up in the morning and just take the day off. He can never do that unless he breaks a leg or he dies or something to that extent. It's an awesome job and he loved it. A lot of people loved him and they were there in his funeral. Hundreds of them.

Kyas was funny. He was sweet to me. He must be sweet to everyone. I do not want to wake his corpse up (sorry, Kyas) but I guess it's worth telling the world that there was something between us. Every time we meet, which is just a few times a year, he would do and say something that would turn up my stomach. (sorry, Kyas) If he was like this to all the girls he had met, they should blog about it too. haha. What he said or did, is between me and his departed soul --- but it was special. He made me feel special a few times a year. There was one time I almost fell for it but then he never made it official. He just fed me a lot of chips and a lot of Coke and talked to me about sexual positions between people and sometimes between people and objects (like door knobs). This is what he does, we see each other and hug and he would lead me away from the crowd and we would take a short hike to a store where he'd tell me to "pick what I like". He would tell me I didn't lose weight and he would look real disappointed to find out that I didn't. And he must be real disappointed that he is into a BBW. haha. No, he didn't tell me he liked me but he couldn't keep his hands off me. It was a perfect match because, with the right amount of alcohol, I like to be touched. He made me drink a lot.

Kyas was funny. It wasn't exactly a date he was asking for but from the fact that we're going to be alone together and maybe some door knobs, it's going to become a date. And paranoid as I am, I declined when he offered me private bass guitar lessons. I declined any meeting that would not include anyone else. He was too smart. He was too funny. He was too generous. And I was too afraid to deal with it because I know I couldn't handle him.

But then again, he never tried. He didn't have to. It's just, we're okay that we're friends a few times a year. And touch-y feel-y friends after a round of drinks. (sorry, Kyas)

Monday, around 5pm, I got the text from his friend and band mate, Ivan, that he had gone. I didn't cry. I just couldn't believe it. Until now, two days later, it's still unreal to me. I'm still waiting for my tears to fall if it would ever. I don't know. I think I might, pretty soon. But maybe I just couldn't find any reason to cry. Maybe he made me too damn happy in all those few times a year that we meet, which made it all the more special. I'm really sorry Kyas, if I might not cry about your passing. We were just so damn happy.

There are many things I am going to write about the end of things aside from mortality. There are also the end of beautiful relationships, my weaning from addictive behavior and so on.

In my next posts, love.