3am & realizing the word "bed" looks like a bed and you're in min(e/d)

the seduction fail

Thursday night, Steph mentions she wants to watch a movie. Assuming she wanted to watch at my house because movies and couches and pjs are the norm in regards to our "movie nights", i was surprised by her desire to have the viewing at her house instead, at 9:40pm no less. To make sure I bite the bait, she even reiterates the fact that she has fresh-baked chocolate and red velvet cupcakes for me to munch on. Honestly, how can i resist? I grab the nearest movie, which happens to be Disney's Enchanted, drive over, walk through the front door and notice a stunning Stephanie Baloy in her pjs, and a dark, empty house illuminated only by numerous candles. Hmm. We make small talk, and she says that she needs to get something from her car. She comes back, but with new glasses on! (Sigh) She and everyone else knows how i feel about pretty girls and glasses. I still don't know what she got out of her car. Haha, what a temptress. Not trying to make it obvious that i know what she's up to, i show Steph that i brought the light-hearted romantic and innocent Enchanted, an idea which she quickly shoots down. "Let's go upstairs and watch Australia!", she says enthusiastically. (Apparently, the movie is bootleg and can only be watched on the desktop computer.) NOTE: I've heard Australia is a pretty provocative movie haha. We make our way upstairs to a room with ONE chair (ahem), and lo and behold, she "can't find it." Hmm again. After a good half-hour of searching (including her room) and reminiscing over old pictures on the computer with myself consciously trying to keep a safe distance, we make our way back downstairs. We have a great talk for a while, and i think after realizing her elaborate plan was not going to work on me, we cut the night short. Oh Stephanie, don't get me wrong; it isn't that i don't think you're great or that you aren't beautiful... I just feel that our friendship is far too important to be complicated by something such as this. I hope you understand my convictions regarding this matter.

Gahahahahahaha. And i only had one cupcake! Lameee.

Edit June 27th: Today, while in a vintage thrift shop located in Downtown Pasadena, Steph strategically stood behind me, knowing that when I attempted to move, my hand would somehow make full contact with her rear. The rest of the day was followed by loud shouts of "Hendrix, stop trying to touch my butt!" Embarrassing, really. Hahaha.

Disclaimer: This is a running gag between Steph and i, and is not meant to demean her character in any way. We are great friends who are overly dorky and crazy when in each other's company, and she is a very dignified young lady -- aside from the high-volume burps -- who i respect immensely. :) Also, if you haven't noticed, we obviously visually document every encounter that we have. Haha.

P.S. Please instant message me at 'ladiesman100384'. GAHAHAHAHAHA.

the death of the king of pop

the thriller record cost me sixty-nine cents at a small thrift shop in chino
the affect and emotions and memories brought on by his songs: priceless

hendrix and steph's infinite playlist

9:02pm: saw tweet, texted steph. steph’s phone was dead, she didn’t get back to me until after 10ish; looking back, there was no way we could’ve made it, but steph’s one-minute prep time (a first in the history of life) and almost-car crashes and empty carpool lanes and john mayer sing-alongs and the less than 30-minute speed-racer drive to hollywood will forever be memorable

11:51pm: get in line at hotel cafe in hollywood for john mayer’s semi-secret $5.00 show, walk by some indie chick peeing on side of alley

12:04am: the seductive face steph plans on using on john mayer; we find a secret way in through an unlocked door, then steph accidentally locks it by kicking it

12:21am: crazy old druggie man serenades/entertains the line with good clap beats, dirtay south gospel, and horrible horrible voice

12:25am: although wishing we could shoot our ears off, the scenic alleyway and vintage-y buildings make the wait almost bearable

12:30am: after taking in as much as we could handle of the old man’s audio torture, we give up, start walking around the block to search for good ol’ los angeles adventure

12:33am: as we pass the 2nd entrance, we spot a group of fans huddled near the door; we can totally hear john mayer, two new songs, then waiting on the world to change and neon; guitar solos and amazing voice make me want to fly forever in my mind they are so mind-blowingly good, remember why we love john mayer, makes me love l.a., makes me love this night, this trip

stephanie after hearing about john’s uncut hair: “i like john mayer’s head shaved.” 2nd grade level teacher, enthusiastically: “I like it long, more to grab on to.. rawr”

1:22am: after the set, we make like paparazzi and stalk john mayer’s car, pete wentz walks out seemingly unaffected by the actual paparazzi crowding his body; he seems like a nice guy and a jerk at the same time, difficult to read or explain

1:29am: steph and i chase john mayer until he gets into his porsche suv, man he is too cool; the trip is officially worthwhile, his body is a wonderland haha

1:33am: after pictures with newsstands which is apparently tradition for us now, we spend about 20 minutes on a wild goose chase for an old mexican man who has my car keys, we experience los angeles in all of its greatness, take in the smells

2:27am: toilet paper in our arms, we die, the end; nothing short of amazing then again, it’s just another normal night for steph and i; we are animals

i'm in l.a., trick

summer sweaters and scarves and inconsistent weather and im having trouble remembering what summer feels like in southern california. nothing is what it should be lately. attempting to keep certain situations out of mind, but doing the exact opposite, unintentionally singing second voice to every dashboard confessional song i hear and it freaks me out.

i am addicted to: twitter, apple iPod touch applications, mountain dew, ebay, string cheese, thrift stores, sleep, being awake, sytycd, coffee smells, man purses, polaroids, mixtapes to myself, and the sheer genious fashion senses of blake lively, camilla belle, and whitney port

wth, I spelled "genius" wrong
gayyyy

threatening messages and (f)risky business

"hello. this is a formal announcement letting you know that I will be kidnapping you sometime very soon. good day."

-- rachel dejesus on my voicemail; a few minutes ago

at least i hope that was rachel. creepy. haha. on a lighter and less scary note, while the parents have been away in the philippines, i've been trying to think of obscure things i can do around the house that i basically wouldn't do if they were around. (evil laugh goes here.)

so far all i've managed to do is use the bathroom with the door open.

cuckoo for cocoa puff

swimming in wishing wells, and they make padded rooms for white jacket thoughts such as these. things to never give me in the middle of a crowded night with crowded ideas and tired eyes: energy drinks or loaded guns or loaded tongues or internet access and a keyboard. it all kills me one way or another. and funny, we are all still trying to come to life. resurrection, but not -- because it isn't defined that way if we've never lived in the first place. so just... surrection? And these blogs are just love/hate letters, sometimes to ourselves. leaning a little towards the latter lately because I don't know what's wise or what isn't and maybe that's because its about full trust in Him. learning, living. i know this entry sounds dark at times, ominous even, but it's the opposite. i've got a glowing face, and not just because i've got a laptop in front of me in a pitch black room. it's something indescribable and intangible and i'll leave it at that. why do people read this blog when i make it a point to make it decipherable to only me.

my computer still has that new computer smell

i hate when you're typing and there's a red line under "misspelled" words

is there anyone who didn't go to the st. vincent show tonight at the el rey? or am i the only one argh jealous

tattoo ideas: gryffindor crest, all you need is love, polar bear, jellyfish, astronaut, mustache finger, aj's forbidden "friut" drawing, hendrix is for lovers, that chinese good luck cat, sleeping beauty castle, africa, "good nite" knuckles, bomb, i <3 mom, i appreciate brand new, various quotes from the office, butterfly--lower back, abigayle ancheta

make love (story) and a 4-chord medley in this club

club love video re-make, and we pay homage to the 4-chord tribute made by jasmine rafael, cathy nguyen, marc zapanta, aj rafael, randolph permejo, & rb all in one take, 'cuz we is dope like dat. & my countless hours of guitar hero have obviously paid off, so booyah to you naysayers

happy 18th birthday faye, we love you

final season

she had a history of killing herself
and i had a habit of dying
i think she gave me something to live for
i guess i helped her pass the time
i never saw her leaving me once
and she never felt me beside her

just like lauren conrad, i'm dunzo

myspace needs less tom, more beards

"Am i in pain? Hell, yeah. but I'll tell you something, I thrive in pain. I love pain. To me, pain is not pain at all. No... It is pure pleasure. And I hate pleasure... almost as much as I love pain. So yeah, I'm in pain." - Dwight Schrute.

dumpster diving and name dropping

"we got older, but we're still young, we never grew out of this feeling that we won't give up." ten years and best friends means i pulled the trigger. this is me finally giving up trying to fight for us and this friendship, and you quite possibly attempting to finally start? either way, it doesn't matter because you are the best at replacing people. we've made unforgettable memories, and i won't take that for granted. separate ways, separate interests, separate lives. and is this truly moving on, letting go, letting God? of course, a certain amount of prayer is still going into this, as well as my full trust in Him. also, katrina tuason and jeremie anne quilala are my heroes. sometimes its like forget everyone else, but then again, i'm incredibly picky. finding out rach was in socal this weekend through twitter didn't make me feel any better about how my relationships with people are. to add on to that, my own sister didn't want to ride with me to pick up food. everything kind of hurts right now.

lighter notes; man, it's awkward sharing tables with strangers at starbucks. i tripped over his cord and unplugged his laptop which made it all the more awkward. haha. wth, they are playing cold war kids here? nice. and there's an indie chick painting her fingernails blue out the window. just downloaded the best of lionel richie and can't wait to put "all night long" on repeat. this entry is bipolar. i'm not. the entry is.

i think i'm dying/dead inside
and it's weird, but in the shower, you can't tell if you're crying or not

ps. btw, if you're confused, some of this was written earlier, and some written later

i missed coachella again

got the new album "here, here, and here" by meg & dia.
but still can't stop listening to jenny lewis' "acid tongue."
and where the hell does the period go. before or after the quotation?

your middle name is danger

we're waking up before falling asleep. staring out at nothingness through a starbucks window, which incidentally, is also a wall; letting my fingertips do the talking, thinking, and maybe this is a bad idea. we'll see. "no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy." between me and blue skies I see black clouds and i'm hoping that isn't a sign of things to come or if it is, hoping i'll see it in the glass half full sense. who cares about grammar (!), although i'm still conscious of spelling and i've always been one to pretend to take things as they come but secretly planning one step ahead and still messing it all up in the end and i guess that's reason for the pretentious charade. "no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy." i'm always one iceberg off being a dreamboat. remembering when she asked me if it was "iceberg" or "iceburg"? that ship's sailed, mine's sunk. I've always been water in her lungs, she never needed me and it's okay. she said i'm forgetting who i am but joke's on her because i don't think i've ever known. "no one wants to hear you sing about tragedy." ominous and gloomy, weather's still nice and i enjoy it. can't wait to take photos when it inevitably gets beautiful again in chino hills. for now though, let's dance in the midst of these storms; wind and rain and thunder and you in your favorite dress, and me in my sunday best and sometimes love ain't nothin' but a number. or something like that.

everyone loves to hear songs about tragedy

project manager

and what. so i walk into this pomona business office thinking i'm interviewing for a receptionist position at a prom gown distributer, and end up being a project manager for an internet company instead. kind of crazy and what i've been fervently praying for (a job, i mean). i don't know if i like it very much, but i pretty much NEED the money. and by the way, the other side of the office does sell prom gowns, as well as other formal evening gowns, and cocktail dresses. And they are gorgeous, i must say.

sardines

and sometimes we are just the life of the party. update later.

hakuna matata

Hok, after pulling his next style of dance out of a hat on So You Think You Can Dance Season 3: "Samba! Wait, that's the guy from Lion King, right?"

catsinsinks.com

and everyone and their moms are on facebook. quite literally. friend requests and comments from tita mabel, tita liza, tita beth nadua, tita bambi(rach's mom), as well as from my actual aunts, and it's kind of bizarre, but not in a bad way. apparently, i've had the urge to blog lately; don't know why, but hey, who needs a reason.

current music: "marching bands of manhattan" by death cab for cutie

new puppy

so bess got me a little fishy for my birthday. haven't really named him, but keep telling everyone who asks it's named after them. his name will most likely be eunice, but the names voldy volds, johnny knoxville, albus dumbledore, abby antonio, kipper jr. (r.i.p.), dwight, or neil patrick harris haven't been ruled out as of yet. i've never really had my own fish to take care of, and i hope i can be responsible enough to keep him alive and kicking(or swimming, rather), especially since it was a gift from bess and you all know how sentimental i can be. and it might be crossing the line if i decide to keep it posthumously(i mean the fish posthumously, not me.) we'll have to wait and see i guess. anyway, it's beautiful.

current music: "welcome, ghosts" by explosions in the sky

you never stop 'til you get caught

Magnified glasses, and this boy is entirely much too close to his computer screen. Watching regulars from my store walk in and out of THIS Starbucks, and maybe we're all creatures of habit and maybe sometimes it doesn't matter where. I am one example. I've no real ideas or profound thoughts to jot down, just, nothing. Finally finished downloading all the La Blogotheque "Les Concerts A Emporter" to the iPod. (klepto) There's a cover of Coldplay's "Yellow" playing above me; it's soothing. & God, I wish Rachel were here. I also really really really miss Steph. Like lots.

birthday wishlist

Rebel EOS XS, The new 13" Macbook, Sea Nettle, G1, Meg & Dia, or Meg & Dia, or Meg & Dia, Authentics (gargoyle, white, or all black), Anything here, Porkchops, Beard, nothing really, just quality time with bess, friends, and fam. And money. :)