sometimes emotions are better described with pictures...

the beauty of excuses...

it's funny how life can alter in a split second...
it's also quite funny how extremely lazy and stupid one can be...
i haven't updated my blog for quite sometime now, i got tired of updating it knowing that no one except me reads it. then i decided i didn't like the look of it (even thought i spent god knows how long designing and tweaking the template). after that i came up with the excuse of not having the time to update it and then finally i decided i wasnät a good writer anyway.

however, for some strange reason i decided to take a look at it today and i realized, i like my blog. i like my little header i made myself, and i like the tweaks, and i like to laugh at my own words even though no one else does. i tried to write a swedish blog, but my swedish vocabulary sucks (strangely enough), i'm not even close to funny or even amusing whne i write in swedish. so, no more excuses! and i'm sorry tp everyone who's been likning me and such for the lack of updates. i will however update as frequently as i can now (which is more often that i'd like to admit, a life what is that??).

check back for updates, you won't regret it. i swear... ;)

little, zombie me...

have you ever thought of maybe, one day, sometime in the future getting a face lift? well, bless you, you're not alone. fact is i was thinking one day, how bad is it? yeah so you're insecure about getting old so you either or both have a face lift, pump in poison in your lips and cheeks, feed your baby with pepsi.. all those things. anyway, so i decided that maybe i should prevent my skin from becoming wrinklish sooner than later so i picked up one of those tubes with mud you stick on your face. you had to wear it for twenty minutes which i thought wasn't all too bad, at least a good reason for staying in the tub for so long. anyhow, i put it on my face, smirking at the zombie-like face googling out at me, though when i decided it wasn't all that amusing anymore my smile was stuck. the mud which had some super, über, extra quick drying sort of quality had made me look like a dried up, frantically smiling zombie. i contemplated washing it off, but decided that after all that pasting on my face i could at least leave it on for 10 minutes or 15. though let me tell you this, it is not funny or even remotely amusing when your smile if not your whole damn face is strung back on your head like a dentist's mask. your gum starts to dry up and your cheeks quiver slightly in an effort to trying to shut your mouth, and god forbid if you for some strange reason leave your tongue hanging on one side of your mouth because after those ten minutes it'll be as dry as a dried up plum. thought to my great relief and i must say at the beginning great horror the mask started to crack on my face. "my face is cracking up!" i shrieked loudly, slightly panicked. needless to say this has put my thoughts of a face lift later on very much on hold... god knows i don't want my face to look like the lever gotten stuck at one point...

schiphol portalhunt...

yesterday i went on a portalhunt for the secret portal that would take me home. up the creaky escalators where a stampede nearly turned me into minced meat. after surviving the stampede i entered a huge cave where cavemen tried to steal my magical water that i kept in my rucksack. luckily for me i had put it in a plastic bag to keep it safe away from their filthy hands. i krept through thin tunnels, ran down thin winding roads and then i finally found it, the treasure. gate D79. i whipped out my magical treasure map and examined it. this was the place. squinting my eyes i saw the magical portal a few feet away, whipping out my papertalisman, holding it tightly in my hand i ran through the portal and felt a quick tug then the world started spinning. up and down, back and forth. then after what seemed to be an eternity i landed with a thud on my livingroom floor. at last, i was home!

i guess what i'm trying to say is.. why the hell is it so hard to find your way around amsterdam schiphol?? and damn the crew who were 2 hours late and then made us wait in the plane for another hour. after flying for 18 hours you're kind of keen to get home...

10 things i can do to get her out of my head...

1. walk up the steep hill of bakakeng old road should do it. Wheezing and gasping for polluted air should place my thoughts elsewhere.

2. watch tomy dunster on a stupid philippine soap opera. It cannot get any cheesier. It even gives me a headache.

3. exterminate all the mould in my room with bleach and vinegar. Inhaling the bleach should get me dizzy enough to pass out.

4. go to SM and eat some mami looking for any Australians to pick up.

5. bungy jump out from baguio city’s cliffs. iiiiiiiih! aaaargh! Whooooohoooo!

6. get myself tattooed. Pain, sweet pain. It’s bound to make me think of how to survive the ordeal of 5 hours of pain.

7. babysit a screaming baby. Oh my lord, I’d put a bullet between my eyes.

8. sing karaoke in front of a lot of non-drunk people and be totally serious about it. The embarrassment should keep me awake and squirming for weeks.

9. eat squids. My friend ate some today and it completely put me off. I couldn’t think of anything else than those disgusting little arms with those disgusting little suction things. Not only will it make me think disgusting, revolting thoughts, it’ll make me sick as well.

10. completely drown myself in work and pretentious socialness.

slient baguio hill

Yesterday I spent the day walking around baguio city with a hangover. The night before was spent on the balcony drinking read whine toasting to the lying – literally, moon. Instead of looking like a C turned backwards, it looks like a U. the stupid white people and the Balinese couldn’t help but be fascinated. We’re simple like that.

Working in north of baguio where I do my voluntary work is like living in silent hill. It’s constantly foggy. We’re high up in the mountains and on this end there’s fog most of the time. It honestly freaked me the hell out in the beginning. The cool thing though is that even though the conditions there are these really nice sunflowers that grow along the hills. Not the normal European style sort of sunflower, but small ones that grow all clustered together.

I live sort of next to this steep, cliff, hill sort of thing with the thinnest road in history. I’m not the scared sort of person, but I kid you not when today the cab came and picked me up, his door was basically FALLING off its hinges! And it made this weird squeaking noise. And he drove like a madman on this, thin, twisting, no safety road. At one point I thought I heard profanity slip out of my mouth, but I realized I was merley screaming “fuck I’m going to die!” in my head.

I work at a centre for homeless and abandoned kids, eleven boys. Some have been sexually abused, others physically mistreated or neglected. Quite a few of them have been found guilty of robbery, violence, rape etc. so needless to say I will have to watch my back. I’ve been specifically told not to wear shot skirts, tight tops with a cleavage or something sexy – which I of course wear everyday. All at the same time. NOT! I’m the jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Phew! Wish me luck!