One of the best times of the day has been that of me in front of a newly-downloaded episode of my new favorite TV show. I find that I like it, because it always seems happy. Even if sometimes, it really isn’t. I like it because it says "physicality gets in the way of true intimacy." Thrilled and hopeful is how I feel when Ned and Chuck find a way to touch. I like it because for a quarter of an hour, there is only pie and cling wrap kissing. And sometimes, maybe that’s all I really want. Or need.

I don't remember the last time I cried myself to sleep. But 7 days before my birthday, I am weeping into my pillow, finding it incredibly hard to stop. Why am I crying? I don’t even know why, anymore. It hurts to stop and all I can do is lie there with my shoulders shaking furiously and my eyes streaming with salty tears. I’m tired, frustrated, and I feel like a terrible daughter. I am sad, alone, and unaccomplished. This is not how I pictured myself to be at twenty-five. I am crying, because I am a disappointment to myself.

It's been an entire day since I last spoke to my mother. The most that I've said to her in the last 24 hours was a sentence of four words. When I said them, I didn't even look at her. Come to think of it, I haven't even looked at her since sitting behind her on our way home from the cemetery. I am still seething, yet also feeling awful for feeling this way. Could it be hormones? I can't hate my mother, right? That would be a terrible thing. I'm giving myself one more day lest I randomly self-combust.

After a year of not driving, I took the wheel again. I did not want to and I made sure that the fact was known. And I even felt worse driving back—alone—because had my brother thanked me for giving him a ride, my fear of driving would not have mattered. But he didn’t, not even as an afterthought. The drive back home felt like a low budget music video. Ironically, cruising to happy tunes, I felt sick to my stomach; I wanted to be anywhere but in that car. What welcomed me home? Dishes that needed to washed.

You know that the universe is no longer conspiring against you when the day you decide to be a cheapskate is when 35-peso fried ice cream practically falls into your lap. “Beggars can’t be choosers.” So ice cream in any form is quite welcome. For a few minutes, I forgot how much I hate my life right now or how much of a drama queen I’ve turned out to be. Distraction in the form of music, pictures, and wish lists is what’s keeping me sane. Birthdays used to be something to look forward to. Now I am dreading the day.

I don’t think I have been hugged properly the past few weeks. Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling so down lately. I was lucky today because two of my closest friends came by the office—one completely by chance. It didn’t matter if people were looking. I squealed when I saw my best friend and hugged her with all my might. The way she looked at me, I knew she understood what I felt. And I guess that’s why she’s my best friend. Because without a word, we know that a hug will make everything better. Even just for now.

Sometimes the days go by so fast and yet other times, it seems like forever until the week ends. It’s been that way since November started and I feel restless all the time. Wednesdays mean meetings. And for some reason, today’s dragged on `til who-knows-what-time. I couldn’t concentrate and kept zoning in and out of the room. This week, all I think about when I get to the office is, is it time to go home yet? I don’t know what is this funk that I’m in, but I don’t want to stay in it any longer. I am tired,

Make a wish! A good surprise is one that you don’t expect. And in the middle of a meeting, I was pleasantly surprised by my Candy girls singing happy birthday to me, a day early. It didn’t matter if the boss-who-doesn’t-believe-in-me was in the room, making his usual comments. I am loved by these people and I am appreciated by them. Much like my friends who take time to hear me out when I feel like ranting about anything and everything. Dinner was happy and sad at the same time. Between tears, laughter, and food, we celebrated.

I treated myself to my very first birthday holiday. As a kid, I never liked missing school. Even when I was in college, I almost never used my free cuts. So when my boss (the one who likes me) told me I could take the day off, I took the offer. It felt good to not do anything at all. I only left my room to eat and to get a hair cut. I have finally gotten my birthday out of my system and I can go back to not sulking and to living my life. I’m twenty-five years old.

The world that I move around in is magical. I am blessed to have friends who will take me out to breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It doesn’t matter where, or how much; what matters is that we’re together and happy. The birthday that I had dreaded so much stretched out all of three days (before, during, and after). Having mini-celebrations with different groups of people made up for the fact that I had no big party this year. It makes up for all the depression I’ve been feeling since the start of this month. There is no need to worry.

After a big scare when my mother had terrible leg cramps last night, I felt guilty for feeling hateful towards her the past week. When I saw her crying in pain, all I could do was hold her hand and stroke her hair. It was terrible and I wished for nothing more than for her pain to go away. So today, I asked her if she was feeling better every chance that I got. I had breakfast with her and let her play all of the computer games she wanted. (She loves playing Bookworm on the computer.) I love her.

After a stressful car ride, we finally reached Laguna. A beautiful country club, with lush greens and blue skies. I knew it was going to be a tiring day, but a shoot out of town trumps being stuck in front of my computer for ten (point six) hours. A pair of girls in gowns sharing a dapper boy. They ran around the greens and sat on the boardwalk. We danced to music blaring from our phones and took pictures because the place was photogenic. I wish to live by the water; everything always feels calm when you see still water.

We celebrated one of the Novembers’ birthday with sundae pies from Burger King. I got my choco peanut treat from my officemate—she surprised me with it and fried ice cream with a candle on it. Too bad I wasn’t in the office on my birthday. So we were sugar high for the rest of the day. I love slow days like this, because it prepares me for the stress that could possibly come soon. Also, from today: "Love is not about give and take; it’s just about giving." Wise words from my good friend that I chose to share.

Today’s meeting—the one I always seem to be not excited about—was online. Seriously? Because we’re "Digital," we met in a chat room. Seriously. It was hilarious at first. I mean, IRC was so 1990-something. And then, it just got confusing. Then, after it got gross. Especially when they started testing the bad words filter. I had no idea I was working for people who knew so many cuss words and were into smut. Guess who was cringing in her seat and getting turned off with every movement of the conversation on the window. How can I respect that?

I am in my element in the kitchen. With just me and the oven, and our happy friends: flour, two kinds of sugar, chocolate, nuts, eggs, and stuff that taste good in cookies, I am happy. I love smelling like sugar, after. I love that when I walk around the house, it tastes like Christmas morning, almost. I love it when my parents sneak a taste here, a nibble there almost as if I don’t notice. When I’m in the kitchen, I know that something good is going to come out of what I’m doing. I don’t second guess myself.

A good day is having free lunch care of fellow November birthday celebrants. A good day is taking a break to watch a movie with officemates/friends. No matter how crass and stupid the movie is, it’s still a welcome break. I watched Superbad with the 2Ms today and tonight, I ate McDonald’s and watched another M onstage. This was a slow week and I can’t wait for Monday when the 3Ms will take another break and watch Private Practice. The one In Which Sam Gets Taken For A Ride. Hopefully, Monday will be another good day. There’s a cover shoot.

I felt like today was really the day I became an adult. I was in Antipolo for my younger cousin’s confirmation. The last time I stepped into that Cathedral was for my own confirmation. Back then, we were all clad in white and recited lines we’ve practicallymemorized and sat down and stood up by counts. Now, I am a godparent. And I am expected not only to be a good example, but a good, Christian example to my cousin. She made me smile when she said, “I don’t want an old godparent. They might die!” So maybe I’m not old.

One of my biggest driving nightmares is to crash into another car. I've only gotten into an accident once—and I knew it was my fault. I vowed never to get into another one. So for a year, I didn't drive (okay mostly that was because I forgot to renew my license). No driving, means no accidents. But this year, I finally renewed my license. So I'm back to being an errand girl on Sundays. Thank goodness, I made it to the supermarket and back home in one piece. I hate jeepneys, tricycles, buses, and all forms of public transport.

People usually dread Mondays, but I was looking forward to this one. There was a promise of chicken, bacon, and barbecue sauce. And there was a lunch date with the folks over at Private Practice. Then, a shoot with one of the sweetest girls ever. So that’s how it came to be, my Monday. I had my Ultimate Sandwich, which tasted nothing short of amazing while watching a show that has recently become my favorite over Grey’s Anatomy. I love that there’s drama, but there is also love, happiness, and fulfillment. Just like how I want my life to be.

I keep forgetting to do a lot of trivial things, like getting the waistband of a skirt tightened. So half the day, I was busy pulling up my skirt, dangerously low on my hip. Through my short trip from the car to the office, through our race to get to a press con on time, through my visit to a shop with my brother so I could dark skinnies like I’ve always wanted. I kept pulling my skirt up and trying to make it stay above my waist. I made a mental note about it but I already forgot it.

Being out of school for a few years and I can still memorize stuff. In front of lights and a camera today, my college Speech comm major self reappeared. It doesn’t seem like it, but I actually loved performing in class. I loved my Oral Interpretation class and today, I was happy to be “performing.” Sort of. Sometimes I wonder, what if I went on another career path? What if I enrolled in that cadetship program in a big TV network? But then again, I’m happy where I am now. Doing what I love with people I love. So, yay.

Our days at the Candy HQ have been more interesting since our chat room opened online. Everyday, we are welcomed by questions and lines that boggle the mind. When I was in high school, I never had a problem of “missing my period.” I didn’t even have a boyfriend until I was a senior. Times are a-changing, and if we’re shocked at what these kids are talking about, imagine how their parents must feel? They talk so openly about being promiscuous and are not even apologetic about saying vulgar things online. Their excuse? “I’m just being honest.” I am scared.

I almost ate my lunch with a bloody fork. The fast food joint where I picked up my yummy chicken was too far for me to complain about it. So I ate with two spoons and tried my hardest not to gag. The HQ was almost empty so I ended up hanging out for a bit inside the portal, where everyone in my department is. After what was supposed to be a money and magazine giving meet up, I ended up watching Enchanted with my friend and her singing friends. Loved it! It reminded me that there are happy endings.

It was good to lay my head back and just fall deep into sleep. Had my mom not walked in to wake me up, I would have missed my weekly Saturday date with my daddy. For the past couple of months, dad and I have been hearing Mass Saturday nights without my mom. Since my mom is usually reading for Sunday Mass, she doesn’t go with us, anymore. But last night, mom went with us since she wasn’t going to be on duty on Sunday. It was weird how my mom sat behind us and I was beside my dad.

I spent some time going through my old domain’s blog entries. Whenever I do this, it’s inevitable that I end up at some of my older sites and “secret” journals. I have a good laugh at my problems back then—how I was so hung up over a boy or how my entries were all, “what about me?” I think to myself, have I really changed? Five years from now, will I find my archive non-funny or will I pore over my entries for hours telling myself how shallow my concerns were? I’ve changed yet stayed the same, it seems.

After three years of not seeing each other, Alyn’s finally back. I keep forgetting that she is now Mrs. Edwards. She’s no longer the thin, boyish girl who was good at every sport and competitive at each one, too. Dinner plans have always been easier to plan when everybody was still here. Now, my high school friends and I barely get together once in three months. I was grateful that the planets lined up for one night. At the restaurant where we asked to be seated at a table for ten, we had to ask for another to accommodate everyone.

I hate waiting. I think of all things, that what I hate the most. So imagine how awful my mood was after sitting inside the van for two hours in horrible traffic, waiting for my brothers to get done so we could go home, without any dinner? I was mean and unapologetic. I ranted to my friend on the phone within earshot of my brother’s friends. I didn’t care if they thought I was rude and impossible. I was hungry and tired. These are the times I don’t like myself very much. I’m a more pleasant person when I’m stuffed.

My birthday package came today. I was looking forward to it the whole day. I couldn’t wait to go home and carefully peel off the tape and unveil my goodies. My mom had already sent me a message of what she though was in the package—blasted Post Office opened it, trying to make sure it wasn’t contraband. WTH? So anyway, after a long day in the office I came home to a box filled with pretty pink paper and a second-hand iPod Nano, a Holga, two pretty pieces of clothing, and a gorgeous black and white bag. Loved it!

There was a coup attempt today. Again. Like, it’s something as normal as, oh I don’t know, getting your hair cut. Meanwhile, at the office we are restless. All we’ve done the past week is eat, work a little, and watch our favorite series. I was worried that I’d be stuck in traffic for two hours again so I ate dinner with my friends. I almost finished a jumbo plate of rice, gyudon, and tempura. Oh man. I love Japanese food. It didn’t matter that the ride home was barely an hour and there was no sign of a crisis.

Some days are boring. On other days, it’s nice to be able to sit around and not do anything. Holidays are made for escaping and for traveling, but this one time, I am happy to be at home doing nothing. The entire day has been about sleeping, eating alternately. What was supposed to be a weekend of sun, sand, and surf has been put on hold. My entire month was quite uneventful. And even if I wanted some excitement in my life as a twenty-five-year-old, I am at peace with the average, run-of-the-mill life I’ve been leading. I am ordinary.