Memoirs of a 25-yr old Bum

“Life’s like a movie. Keep pretending. Keep believing" - Jim Henson

Today marks an ending of yet another chapter of my life. Don’t cry for me. I know I’m not sad. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s how to be numb. Apathy may appear as my excuse but frankly, it’s my greatest strength. I didn’t love that company anyway so it’s not really big of a deal to leave. Come to think of it, what have I learned from that office anyway? Hmm... ahh... surprise! I can’t think of any.

Sorry Mark Daigle, but your crap of a company was a waste of my time.

Call me bitter but I feel like Erin Brokovich during my last days there- minus the cleavage, divorce and, the environmental poisoning legal case. I just couldn’t stop fighting.

Truly shocking, given the fact I hate disputes. I don’t even watch war-movies except if they’re top-billed by Tom Cruise or Matt Damon.

There seems to be a part of me who wants justice for fair compensation. I’m not even talking about myself anymore. Those poor employees need to get their hard-earned money, period. Dr. Hannibal Lecter suddenly keeps swirling inside my head: Quid pro quo. Something for something.

When my dad asked me to end the inexorable battle, I agreed. Not only because he’s a father I look up to but I decided my precious efforts need not be wasted by those trashy non-Filipino citizens. Surely, blood is thicker than my boss’ face.

I am no Simba. I was not born to greatness, or so I was told. That never occurred to me as a problem. I was a kid for heaven’s sake! There’s princes Harry and William and heiresses Paris and Nikki. Siblings usually appear in two’s. But I was a middle child. While my bro can have all the power and my sis can be a big brat, I can be what I want. Life’s simple- no spoil equals no pressure. Hakuna Matata.

Enter the cliché world of high school where you can somehow peep on almost all the types of party list groups we have today. I never believed the clique you first hang out with will be your typecast. I was friends with nerdy Joseph Capulong and wanna-be Michael Bulaong prior to being stereotyped as a Coyote Ugly aka Jawbreakers or Mean Girls.

What I’m trying to say is there’s always a Vylette in me that I can never change. I may be flocked by a minion of queen bee’s and surrounded by non-sense jocks back on those years but I still have my jologs heart and interests inside.

Probably one memory I can never forget was even in high school, I didn’t stop fighting- in contests. I always lose, almost quit but never gave up. Now that I think is a Blair Waldorf moment.

College came and everyone seems to be on purpose. Some want to find love, others crave for sex but the rest, including myself, search for themselves.

“This will be a best time and I daresay don’t be scared to experiment because only then you’ll be able to come up with a conclusion about yourself.” - very well said, my Philo professor.

Deep down I searched and I asked: what do I really want. More so, what do I really like doing. As compared to science, I love arts, that’s for sure. But what’s with arts I’m extremely at ease of doing? That’s when it hit me. I was Billy Elliot, just replace dancing with writing.

I never claim it was great. But it was comfortably satisfying. Writing is a passion I need not brag for me to be happy. Because doing it makes me happy already.

What’s next has yet to come. I worked and still plan to work in a call center. And I have no regrets whatsoever. I mean, I can be Carrie Bradshaw all I want but I can’t buy those designer stuffs she has.

That’s the reality and we can’t escape it. Movies will entertain but there will always be a thin line, almost invisible we should not cross. Money still is a vital necessity to live.

And that my friends is what sucks. Big time.

O.M.effing.G! vol2.09

“If u wanna be part of this world, people will talk. You need to decide if all these... worth it” – B.W.

Mid-year hiatus is done but the drama isn’t. Forget about this year’s disasters ‘cause something’s telling me nothing can ever topple the Coyote’s latest scandals. It’s the season of giving so I’m feeling it would be just to make it as this version’s unifying theme. But knowing the Royalty by heart, you must be careful what to wish, as you can never expect the return.

Let me start with the no-showers to this year’s biggest event- yet. The hostess threw a birthday bash like no other but it seems some Coyotes were goners, well at least two of them. L’s excuse is a visit to a hospital. Awww, sweet L, taking care of a sick friend! A friend in need is a friend indeed. But what if this so-called friend is still the Married Man from the South? And this so-called hospital is let’s say, a motel? And I don’t wanna delve into the “visit” part anymore. Really, L, is this excuse the best you can think of?

B, goner number two. No text means no show can be her motto but why is it everytime A is in, she’s out? Sources say this has something to do with a non-happening that Mall Guy (aka her boyfriend) is reporting her. And since its Christmas, let me tell you about two facts of decency, B: One, everybody lies and so did your boyfriend. Two, dissing your long-time BFF’s over a crazy-liar-not even close to perfection-boyfriend is a big N-O!

Speaking of crazy, D’s X makes the top of my list. We get it, he’s a psycho major, but does he need to make D his ultimate specimen? D can be as hardcore as her outer shell but when it comes to life-threatening situations, D is just a traumatized victim as everybody else. You don’t have to kill someone to prove you’re crazy, X! Do I hear asylum guards coming over?

P, spotted and poof! Disappeared. Oh why am I not surprised, she’s still with the Chinese Twink. Love may be all around her but money, not be found. Especially if he sees her as a one-way ATM who he can always dispense cash from. If you don’t believe me, P, I dare you to take a little experiment. Try not splash him with all his goodies for seven days and observe if Twink doesn’t look for a more giving cougar. And oh, don’t forget to write down your conclusion.

And the ultimate scandal of ‘em all is V- finding a date of her own! But before anyone offers their congratulations to V for getting out of her shell and dumping the I-don’t-need-a-boy-attitude, listen to this first: It’s the High Schools’s biggest nerd. Poor V, scoring a loser doesn’t make you a winner. Just when you think you have it in the bag, it always slides down the gutter.

When somebody hands you over a secret, it all depends on you now. It’s a basic kindergarten question: Do you take it all in or let somebody spill it again? I’m always watching, XOXO.