Author Archives: The Bitch Goddess

Going Crazy…But The Good Kind of Crazy.

The productive kind of crazy.

I plurked earlier that I haven’t slept all night. I spent it tossing and turning, thoughts racing in my head faster than my breath. My head started to hurt so much that I had to literally scream at myself to STOP THINKING! Obviously, it didn’t work and I got myself all worked up even more. It came to a point where at 5 AM, I was sitting in our living room, waiting for the sunrise, and begging myself (or my head) to go to sleep. It was THAT bad.

There are so many things to do, so many projects to attend to that I don’t even know where to begin! I’ll try to list them down by order of importance:

  • Launch of my dad’s Heart Foundation – December 5: The Department of Health, Dad’s hospital, colleagues and friends put up a heart fund for Mindanao’s indigents in his memory. I’m responsible for the AVP (and I haven’t even started shooting yet!), the website, media kits, press conferences, setting up the launch, and attend to gov’t officials and VIPs (smirk) and make their stay as comfortable as possible. This is what I actually do for a living (media and events) and it goes without saying that I’m doing this pro-bono. Not complaining here. I’m just overwhelmed with the tons of tasks.

  • My dad’s 1st year Death Anniversary – November 27: We haven’t had huge parties since dad died, but on this day we anticipate over 400 guests flocking the compound. My dad was fond of parties, alright, but he actually preferred hanging out with his staff (janitors, maintenance crew, admin) than his MD colleagues. He once said it is those little people who really matter to him, as they keep him grounded.

  • I’m opening a new coffee shop/café – end of December: I’m blessed to have a fairy godfather who fulfills my dreams. It was a long time coming, and quite unexpectedly, things turned to our favor. I will be signing the lease this week and construction should start by next week (IF I can find carpenters and painters at such short notice). My mind is racing as to which furniture to get, the color of the walls, the interiors, café operations and what not. I need to educate myself with coffee, too!

  • Get new accounts for my media company – this week: My business partner has been nagging to do heavy marketing for our company. I’ve neglected this one since the Swede arrived. I thought I’d recoup by December by the time he leaves so I can focus, but with the new developments of our family businesses, now is the time to refocus before it gets realllllyyy busy. The other day, I started buying those giveaway boxes that match our corporate look and prepare for Christmas favors to hand out to clients and media friends.

  • Write a month’s worth of articles for the paper – this weekend: My entertainment editor has been putting up with my late articles and quite often as of late, with no submissions at all. I’ve been feeling guilty because he’s the most cheerful editor one can ever have and he hardly gets angry, too. Now where the hell do I squeeze in my writing time?!

  • Plurk, or lose my nirvana status – SOON

    • I’ve always been guilty of this habit of biting more than I can chew, and these series of events once again prove how I love having tons on my plate. I like being busy, the feeling of being responsible for something or someone.

    I just wish my dad can see that I’ve finally grown up.

    Anticipation

    Well, hello there. It’s been what, 5 months since my last entry? I’ve been meaning to fix the look of this blog, but I can’t be bothered. I apologize for the laziness. And so it remains as I left it.

    But alas, I cannot be parted from writing. It’s the only reason why I remain sane. 

    So, how have YOU been?

    I have been working my ass off the last couple of months, trying to be that ‘responsible’ daughter my dad never lived to see, and just basically tried to live the mundane life. 

    And now, I’m terribly burned out, stalling tasks and jobs that will set me back a full month. Why it has come to this, I don’t know. I find myself waking up later than usual (it’s 11 AM now. It used to be 10 AM *yeah, yeah, I know. Try running your own company yourself, you’ll love its perks*), and instead of the usual routine of checking emails and sending replies, I head over to the couch and watch just-downloaded episodes.

    A few days from now, and for the next two months, my life will be in suspended motion. The Swede lover comes to visit. Being his nth time now, I anticipate things to be more fun and in a way, serious. He may not be aware of it, but the October month marks our anniversary, and this year is our second.  We are at that phase where we have to decide…things. You know, the usual stuff that makes guys cringe. I tried avoiding the topic for the longest time knowing full well how he feels about it. Maybe we’ll talk about it, maybe not. More than anything, I want this to work. I think I deserve something stable for once, don’t you think?

    I’m annoyed at myself, though. I can’t get my work mojo back! I need it back RIGHT NOW before I get distracted when he arrives next week.

    The Myrmidon

    I used to like to call you my minions. But now, you shall be known as the Myrmidons.

    From Wikipedia,

    The Myrmidons (or Myrmidones; Greek: Μυρμιδόνες) were an ancient nation of Greek mythology. In Homer’s Iliad, the Myrmidons are the soldiers commanded by Achilles.[1] Their eponymous ancestor was Myrmidon, a king of Phthiotis who was a son of Zeus and “wide-ruling” Eurymedousa, a princess of Phthiotis. She was seduced by him in the form of an ant. An etiological myth of their origins, simply expanding upon their supposed etymology— the name in Classical Greek was interpreted as “ant-people”, from murmekes, “ants”— was first mentioned by Ovid, in Metamorphoses: in Ovid’s telling, the Myrmidons were simple worker ants on the island of Aegina.

    Later use of the term
    The Myrmidons of Greek myth were known for their loyalty to their leaders, so that in pre-industrial Europe the word “myrmidon” carried many of the same connotations that “robot” does today. “Myrmidon” later came to mean “hired ruffian” (according to the Oxford English Dictionary) or “a loyal follower, especially one who executes orders without question, protest, or pity, unquestioning followers.”

    So who’s with me? Identify yourselves. Don’t be shy. 🙂

    Thanks JohnB, for the heads up.

    PS. My blog still looks like shit and I haven’t had the time to customize since I moved from my old blog. Bear with me as I make this place familiar and comfortable once again.

    Mantra Part 2

    A rehash of my old Mantra post. Under different circumstances this time.

    First commandment when you’re ABOUT TO pursue a relationship with me.

    1. Be intimidated, yes. I can do all sorts of crazy things to you. Call me ball-crusher, drama queen, enchantress, what have you. But thou shall NOT falter. No matter what.

    I need to know…something. If you are that Superminion you claim to be.

    Strawberry ice cream and other guilty pleasures aside, whenever somebody SCARES me, for some weird reason I end up hurting, and I become a walking disaster. I can’t really explain why I hurt, but I end up being on a self-destruction mode. I end up doing evil, cruel, unthought-of things.

    I feel remorse after a while, though. And I hate myself for that.

    I actually feel like shit, really. I know I can’t take things back, but don’t hate me. Please.

    What Could Have Been, and Then Not.

    Dear you,

    I cannot do this. We cannot do this.

    You have successfully disarmed me, stripped me naked. With what and how, I honestly don’t know. The last few nights have left me utterly overwhelmed. Vulnerable. I’m scared shitless.

    Perhaps you think nothing of it; I don’t know what you’re thinking, really. But before this acquaintance gets complicated any further, please understand that I have to nip it at the bud before it blooms into anything and something I will no longer have any control of.

    The last few days had me finding slowly reacquainted with the past’s painful shadow. You make me want to wear pink and giggle. Tolerate dickery and playfulness. Run barefoot through Freedom Park’s grassy field. Chain smoke and roll some joints of Sagada weed. Chug down a few bottles of beer in some dimly lit bar. Pout and rant and make pakipot like a 5-year old and still expect to be chased after a huge fight. Prove to you that I’m the coolest girlfriend you can ever have. You make me want to take care of you, to fuss over you, to be falsely mad at you so you will quit smoking. You make me blush unashamedly every time you catch me off guard. You make me realize what I have been yearning and missing out all this time – tenderness.

    But I cannot allow her to resurface. She always gave everything she had, and when she did, she became self-destructive. What you have experienced in this brief encounter is a glimpse of a ghost, vainly trying to get out. What she doesn’t know is that she is dead.

    You asked me that one thing that can make me truly happy. I think I can answer that now.

    It’s coming into terms with myself, and living with the resolve that I will not allow myself to be that vulnerable and giving and stupid again.

    I don’t know how I would live with myself after this, but I had a life before you. And I was fine with that. It was cold, lonely. But it made my heart intact, from breaking further from what remains of its shattered state. But you and your quiet strength make a mockery of what I have carefully crafted to protect myself all these years – trying to appear like I have it altogether, that I am strong, impenetrable. The Bitch Goddess.

    I cannot, must not fall for you. And so forgive me for what I am about to do to you.

    I’m walking away.

    And this, perhaps, is the most selfish decision I have ever made. And I know I will regret it.

    Take care, big guy. I could have almost loved you.