It’s not so much that I have a new book to read over the break; it’s the fact that it’s a book from him. He took the time to order one of his favorite books and send it all the way here. To me!!! <3
I’m grinning and giggling like a twelve-year old schoolgirl. I can’t remember the last time I felt this touched. This is the best Christmas present ever.
Roger: I hate import and export laws. Why the hell do you have to declare what you send to people anyway? As long as it’s not illegal.
Me: I know. It’s a total invasion of privacy.
Roger: Fuckheads.
Me: You know what we should do? We should blow up all the post offices and mailboxes in the world as a form of protest.
Roger: But what if one of my packages is in there?
Me: Well you can grab the package before the post office explodes in a big ball of fire.
Roger: Maybe I’ll have other packages waiting too.
Me: Just run in and find them before the bomb explodes, damnit.
Roger: Nah, too lazy.
Me: Then once all the post offices and mailboxes in the world are blown to pieces, we can establish a new mailing system. With you and me as king and queen. Anyone who disagrees with our laws will be beheaded.
Roger: Or we could just move together somewhere so we don’t have to send each other stuff.
That works out too. That works out. 
A poem by my favorite poet and the only other woman who is perhaps more bitter than I am, Dorothy Parker. I think this is something a lot of people can relate to, particularly those who are graduating from college next March.
Resume
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
My resume is depressingly short. I think I have a fairly good idea of what I want to do after college, but I don’t want to jinx it by writing it down anywhere.
What depresses me even more than the thought of my uncertain future is how 70% of the graduating kids from my school aren’t stressing out about what to do upon graduating because they’re either a) smarter than me, or b) batshit insane richer than me. I’m betting more on the latter though. I have a sinking suspicion that at least half of the kids who go to my school treat their college education as a mere annoyance that they need to overcome in the quickest and easiest manner possible. Oddly enough, I do understand why they don’t feel the need to work hard. Why bother when your family has the money to pay for everything? That doesn’t make me any more fond of the conyitos y conyitas in my school though. I really resent the fact that they’re going to have it easy the rest of their lives while the rest of us actually have to struggle to make a name for ourselves.
I’d rather work for a paycheck than have daddy pay for everything, though. I can’t stand the thought of unearned glory and wealth.
Today, I finally got a piercing that my mom approves of. 
The last piercing I got was a tongue, which actually gave me very little trouble, but my parents raised holy hell to my surprise. They were convinced that my tongue was going to fall off or something, no matter how much I tried to explain that I’m taking very good care of it. Despite my tongue piercing not being infected I had to take it out in the end, which I really didn’t want to do. Then again if it was going to cause so much drama it wasn’t all that worth it.
I used to think that I would never get my navel pierced. I’ve always found that particular piercing very skanky and tacky, because for other people to see it you have to wear a top that will show off your midriff. There is no way in hell you can make a midriff top look classy, unless you’re at the beach. And a lot of times you still look like a skank. I especially don’t like it when girls wear dangly, glittery jewelry on their navels. I get the strange urge to pull at the dangly part and rip the whole thing off. But as the number of body parts I can legally pierce dwindled (read: parts that my parents won’t get heart attacks over)–no more facial piercings, boo–I began to look into getting a navel piercing, or an alternative to the common navel piercing.
Thanks to the awesomeness that is BME, I did find a less-trashy variation of the standard navel piercing. It’s called the inverse navel. It’s a piercing located at the bottom part of the belly button instead of the usual one on top. I got a bunch of jewelry from the only ebay store I swear by, PiercingPal, and went to Alimall after class to get my inverse navel done. (Third floor, by the cinemas)
I was nervous as I sat on a chair in the store and watched the piercer open a pack of new gloves and get some new needles. With a pen, he marked the area where my piercing would go and prepared the clamps. My body piercings have always been done freehand, meaning the piercer just pinches your skin and puts the needle through it. I’ve never been pierced with a clamp before and I’ve read that it can be rather uncomfortable. It was. I winced as the piercer placed the clamp on my navel and to my horror, it stayed there pinching my skin as he took out a new needle from its pack. Then the piercing began.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand why some people get pierced for the pain aspect. Every time I feel the needle going through my skin I get nauseous, cold sweats, and generally wish I could just pass out. I nearly did, the first time I got pierced. I went into shock and couldn’t move a muscle. It’s probably because I tense up every time I get pierced; when the needle was going through my navel, the piercer kept telling me to breathe deeply and relax. The deep breaths I could do but no fucking way can I relax with a sharp object pushing through my flesh. I felt the skin resist towards the end and he pushed the needle harder for it to go through. I thought I’d die.
But the pain wasn’t over yet; he had to remove the needle and then insert the jewelry. I let out a girly yelp as he did so and he asked if it hurt. “Uh-huh,” I mumbled, my head spinning. He screwed the ball of the jewelry on and finally, it was done. I got a mirror and took a look at it but with bile threatening to leap out of my throat, I couldn’t appreciate how it looked. I paid the piercer (400 pesos because I had my own jewelry) and found a cab back to Katipunan.
I felt a lot better after I swallowed some ibuprofen and mefanamic acid. As soon as my head stopped spinning I took a look at my piercing in the mirror and fell madly in love with it. It’s the perfect piercing, and not just because it’s aesthetically pleasing. If I had gotten the usual navel piercing, the barbell would be at the spot where my stomach folds when it sits. It would have made sitting down and bending down very awkward and painful. But sitting down and moving around doesn’t bother my inverse navel one bit.
I’d highly recommend this type of piercing to anyone who’s sick of the traditional navel piercing. I even think inverse navels would look good on guys, but I’ve yet to meet a Filipino who’d be man enough to get one.
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