5/28/2018 ‒
The chicken nugget challenge

I'm not supposed to be eavesdropping into conversations, so I'm not. I have my earphones plugged in, listening to Belgian radio from a month ago. Besides, the airconditioning at this coffee shop is loud and I can barely hear much, but I know enough to write this essay on the fly.

I know enough because this coffee shop isn't as full as I expected. I know enough because you don't often hear people talk about - and I am quoting here, the only thing I can quote - a "chicken nugget challenge with my boyfriend". The lady who said that does remind me of Marian Rivera. I had a glimpse because we're two tables apart. I chose this table because there is easy access to an electric plug. I had some emails to send, but now I'm here, killing time before a meeting.

Marian - let's call her Marian - smiles wide with her mouth, and smiles with her eyes as well. If you saw her online, you'd probably feel endeared to her - but not too endeared, because she has a boyfriend, and that is somehow a deterrent if you're a lonely person. She's wearing this black and green summer-y top, and has this choker of a necklace. I am terrible at fashion.

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5/27/2018 ‒
Once you've seen one, you've seen all of them

I don't understand why I can't sleep. The hotel room isn't bad, save for the rattling air conditioning and the fact that electric sockets are hard to find. To boot, I got a king-sized bed all to myself because of some bureaucratic mix-ups. I had three pillows because there was an extra bed in the room. More importantly, I am very tired. I should plonk my head on a pillow and doze off immediately.

I didn't. But I ascribe that to my tendency of late to not fall asleep when I have to. Most likely I need melatonin to reset my sleep cycles, but in these times when more is demanded of you, it seems to be a risk not worth taking. I turn the lights off at eleven and don't go to sleep until two hours later - and this is at my own bedroom. Am I that stressed today?

At least here in Subic I fell asleep relatively quickly. I can finally sleep without alarm clocks having to wake me up. Instead, I wake up at half past five on a Saturday morning. Yes, the days are longer and it isn't dark outside anymore at this point in the day, but the windows are drawn. And there's nothing urgent left to do. And I cannot sleep. So, instead, almost six hours later, here I am, nursing a headache, drinking an iced coffee (expensive, considering it's a rudimentary hotel - and hazelnut flavorings in coffee will never be my thing), and listening to Courtney Barnett.

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5/14/2018 ‒
Chemistry

This is ideally framed awkwardly, yes.

I'm writing this entry - with a notebook and pen - at a beauty salon. I've watched Shalla get some sort of dry shampoo, I think; I'm now watching her get a back massage from an assistant before the stylist gets to her hair.

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5/03/2018 ‒
Connecting the dots

I don't like the label, to be honest, but for the purposes of this essay I will embrace it.

I am a blogger.

I have been a blogger for the past thirteen years. Most of that has not been of any consequence: it's just me writing about what I feel, what I think, like many of my peers did when we were teenagers, when we started. Over the years I have learned a lot more, understood a lot more, including how I should not say a lot about myself - but I digress.

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