As I predicted, I got lazy and stopped writing.
But who was I really kidding anyway, right? LOL.
Maybe I'm not self-involved enough to write about what happens in my life on a daily basis. Maybe my daily basis is fuckin' boring. Maybe I'm a sloth. Whatever the reason may be, I've been ignoring this blog and my promise that I'd write in it on the regz.
The only reason I'm even here right now is because I took a nap earlier and now I can't fall asleep, so I'm looking for things to do on the internet.
Well, I'm done for now. I'm going to write again once this week is over.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
NORMAL LIFE IS BORIN
In a comical case of bitter irony, I'm going to write about how my life is so uninteresting that I have nothing about which I could write.
My life is so horrifically blasé that I find it difficult to think of things to fill up blog posts - so much so that I've resorted to rewording sentences and sticking 'em back in just to make it seem like I'm saying something different when I'm not saying anything different at all (for proof, peep dat opening sentence of this paragraph), akin to trying to write a university essay.
Each day is pretty much the same:
1) Sleep (typically at a ghastly hour of the actual morning like 7:30 AM)
2) Wake up (let's say 2:30, but it's pretty give or take)
3) Work, if I have work that day
4) Go home
5) Watch Netflix/play video games/play Candy Crush/smoke weed/read a book for hours
6) Cry until I shrivel up like a grape in the sun
There are changes here and there, though. Once in a while, I'll go out and do something with my pals. Maybe the girls will come over and we'll jack around and be fatasses in the basement. But aside from a few sporadic outings or lurking in the lair and eating nachos, my days remain stale and mundane. I don't remember last summer being this boring, but I think I'm being a bit unfair to myself. I'm broke as tits, the weather is tragic, and the situations between some of my friends are... Strained, one could say. Still, it's a total bummer that as each day passes, a little bit of my soul flies away into the fleeting summer wind. I'm 20 years young with a license, a car, and not a care in the world - shouldn't I be having a gatdamn ball?
Now that I really think of it, I don't know what I'm actually expecting out of life. I want something really crazy to happen, like if a dude came and whisked me away on a hot air balloon and we traveled to Southeast Asia in it. That'd be the coolest. But obvi that's not gonna happen. So, like, I think I'm just being a whiny cunt. It's just that I wish I could have more stuff to do than go to the movies. I think I wanna go to the beach, and on a hike, and to Elora Gorge (FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, PLEASE), and camping, and to the States. I really want to do all that stuff. Go to concerts and get shittered or day drink on a patio.
I think what I really want is material for my new summer video. I need footage, people. Cool footage.
Alright, I'm outie. It's like quarter past eight in the morning whoops lol.
Sayonara!
My life is so horrifically blasé that I find it difficult to think of things to fill up blog posts - so much so that I've resorted to rewording sentences and sticking 'em back in just to make it seem like I'm saying something different when I'm not saying anything different at all (for proof, peep dat opening sentence of this paragraph), akin to trying to write a university essay.
Each day is pretty much the same:
1) Sleep (typically at a ghastly hour of the actual morning like 7:30 AM)
2) Wake up (let's say 2:30, but it's pretty give or take)
3) Work, if I have work that day
4) Go home
5) Watch Netflix/play video games/play Candy Crush/smoke weed/read a book for hours
6) Cry until I shrivel up like a grape in the sun
There are changes here and there, though. Once in a while, I'll go out and do something with my pals. Maybe the girls will come over and we'll jack around and be fatasses in the basement. But aside from a few sporadic outings or lurking in the lair and eating nachos, my days remain stale and mundane. I don't remember last summer being this boring, but I think I'm being a bit unfair to myself. I'm broke as tits, the weather is tragic, and the situations between some of my friends are... Strained, one could say. Still, it's a total bummer that as each day passes, a little bit of my soul flies away into the fleeting summer wind. I'm 20 years young with a license, a car, and not a care in the world - shouldn't I be having a gatdamn ball?
Now that I really think of it, I don't know what I'm actually expecting out of life. I want something really crazy to happen, like if a dude came and whisked me away on a hot air balloon and we traveled to Southeast Asia in it. That'd be the coolest. But obvi that's not gonna happen. So, like, I think I'm just being a whiny cunt. It's just that I wish I could have more stuff to do than go to the movies. I think I wanna go to the beach, and on a hike, and to Elora Gorge (FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, PLEASE), and camping, and to the States. I really want to do all that stuff. Go to concerts and get shittered or day drink on a patio.
I think what I really want is material for my new summer video. I need footage, people. Cool footage.
Alright, I'm outie. It's like quarter past eight in the morning whoops lol.
Sayonara!
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Vagabond soul
I'm sorry I didn't regale you guys with more tales from my travels, but the whole thing was pretty much a gigantic X-rated shitshow, so I thought perhaps it would be best to end it where I last left off. Well, that, and I was entirely too lazy/occupied/drunk/lazy/drunk/sleepy/lazy/lazy during the trip to write more about it. In a nutshell, it was one of the best times I've ever had, bar none. I mean, it was three weeks with my bestest gal pals in a faraway land with no parental supervision. Need I say more than that? I saw some really cool shit, met some really cool people, did some really cool things, and had a really cool time.
Which brings me to the point: I NEED OUT OF MY MUNDANE EXISTENCE.
After that tiny droplet of freedom splashed playfully onto my tongue and I got to taste its sweet, divine glory, I've been finding myself dreaming of just taking off somewhere and never coming back. And it's a nice thought, but entirely unrealistic. So I'll settle with just moving out of my house as soon as possible. Moving to Timbuktu can wait until I've got a real job and I'm stackin' chips to the ceiling.
I don't really know what else to say. All my thoughts are flying around in my head but I don't know how to articulate them.
Though it's probably because I had a 9-hour shift at work and I got 3 hours of sleep.
Yeah. Yeah, I definitely lost my writing-boner. I'll try again later when my brain isn't mushy baby diarrhea.
Bye.
Which brings me to the point: I NEED OUT OF MY MUNDANE EXISTENCE.
After that tiny droplet of freedom splashed playfully onto my tongue and I got to taste its sweet, divine glory, I've been finding myself dreaming of just taking off somewhere and never coming back. And it's a nice thought, but entirely unrealistic. So I'll settle with just moving out of my house as soon as possible. Moving to Timbuktu can wait until I've got a real job and I'm stackin' chips to the ceiling.
I don't really know what else to say. All my thoughts are flying around in my head but I don't know how to articulate them.
Though it's probably because I had a 9-hour shift at work and I got 3 hours of sleep.
Yeah. Yeah, I definitely lost my writing-boner. I'll try again later when my brain isn't mushy baby diarrhea.
Bye.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Do it like the Scots do
Sup y'all?
It's currently 4:48 AM in Glasgow, and 11:48 PM in my hometown. I've been in Scotland three nights now, and it has pretty much been one of the best experiences in my life, thus far. Being reunited with Michelle; exploring the city and shopping; partying and eating junk until I feel sick; just fucking up the fun in general - it's one of those things you've got to do when you have the opportunity to do it.
The journey was long and grueling, but I managed to get through one and a half episodes of Game of Thrones, the entire movie of Clueless, and the first chapter of Inglourious Bastards. We touched down in Scotland and the weather was surprisingly agreeable, which indicated to me that this would be a great trip. After we dropped off all our stuff at my friend's aunt's house, we cabbed to Michelle's flat where we shared the most spirit-lifting hug I've ever felt ever. That whole day felt like seven different days because of all the naps we took and the different things we did. At the end of the day, we had to send off our friend, Maria - who had been visiting - off to Naples to meet up with her and Michelle's friend. We ended up just chillin' and vegging out the whole day, buying booze and cigs and Skittles and chips 'n' cheese with Donner meat, and running into Macklemore at the park, which was no problem for me because frankly, mama was exhausted. Oh wait, I lied. We went to this church that had been converted into a bar, where we met Michelle's totez hilar schoolmates. There was Scottish music, and old men in business suits, and it felt a bit perverse to be sipping on a beer inside the walls of a former place of worship, but when in Scotland, drink in a church, right?
The next day, we hit up Buchanan street to fit in tea and a bit of shopping. And by a bit, I mean I better be working nights as a prosty if I wanna be able to live the lifestyle I'm living. But no regrets, for Primark is one of the best things to ever happen to me. I mean, where else can you get an animal onesie for £15? We grabbed some nosh, then we prepared for an evening out. We pre'd at Michelle's flat and I got very inebriated, thanks to all the fucking bottle tapping. And then some Italian girl named Michaela said my Italian sounded perfect and I was so boosted I might as well have just said goodnight to everyone and jerked off to the feeling of being told that. It was pretty great. We went out to this club called Bamboo after much deliberation as to where we were going to go (JellyBaby? Octopussy? I don't even with these clubs, man). They let us in for free I'm pretty sure because we were a group of, like, thirteen people and we just kept blocking the entrance. Anyhow, danced all night, drank til I couldn't walk super proper off of 4 for £4 shots, and then didn't go to bed til like 5 in the morning because we watched basketball and stuff. Went to bed feeling nice.
Today, we were supposed to go to the Necropolis but that fell flat. We were too lazy and the weather was miserable and cold. It's jokes how as soon as Canada gets even remotely warm, I'm like chuck the deuces and I just go somewhere where it's cold. What kind of fucking Filipino am I? Anywhozits, we just ended up taking the subway to Buchanan street again to buy some .... NECESSSITIES .... at Boot's/Tesco/Celtic Shop, followed by the Hillhead Book Club for din. The restaurant was stunning and the food was so fucking good like a goddamn orgasm in my mouth I had fish and chips it was like a dream come true ugh omg wow yeah so. We decided we'd just have a movie night, so we went back home and got high with Michelle's roommate then watched the first half of Mississippi Burning, only because we couldn't find the second half. Now it's a quarter after 5 and I can see the sun rise. Not much different from the life I lead at home LOL.
It's nice how I don't miss home.
But we'll see how I feel after two and a half more weeks.
JOKES, anything's better than the shithole I live in, 'cept the 'Shwa. Nothing's worse than the 'Shwa. Or Milton.
Ok, I'm gonna retire now.
Maybe I'll do another post soon.
Monday, April 22, 2013
exam crunch is not a cereal
I have an exam in 11 hours and I am not prepared, but here I am writing a blog post about how unprepared I am for the exam I have in 11 hours when, instead, I could be preparing for the exam I have in 11 hours. But the kids say YOLO these days, and I'm afraid I gotta listen to what's new and hip with the kids.
Honestly, I'm pretty much in Lala Land right now. Seven long, long, LOOOOOONG days from now, I'm leaving this godforsaken continent and jet-setting to Glasgow with my best friends for three weeks. How can you expect me to be staring a lecture slides and shit when all that's on my mind is snorting coke off a bagpipe or sticking opium suppositories in my butthole a la Mark Renton or whatever it is Scottish people do.
I was gonna keep on typing, but honestly, I'm an idiot and I know I should study. So, like, I'm gonna.
Ok.
I'm gonna.
Go.
Right now.
Bye.
Honestly, I'm pretty much in Lala Land right now. Seven long, long, LOOOOOONG days from now, I'm leaving this godforsaken continent and jet-setting to Glasgow with my best friends for three weeks. How can you expect me to be staring a lecture slides and shit when all that's on my mind is snorting coke off a bagpipe or sticking opium suppositories in my butthole a la Mark Renton or whatever it is Scottish people do.
I was gonna keep on typing, but honestly, I'm an idiot and I know I should study. So, like, I'm gonna.
Ok.
I'm gonna.
Go.
Right now.
Bye.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
THE FRESH START
Hi, I'm Gia.
This is my brand spankin' new web log.
The layout's ugly but I'll work on that in a bit.
The layout's ugly but I'll work on that in a bit.
It's called "word vom" because, like, I'm spilling my guts here. Or something. Lol I dunno it sounded cute and edgy so I chose "word vom". I was thinking about "rewordjitated" but I didn't know if people would get it because it's pretty clever. I'm lying. I'm just afraid that no one will think it's clever. Not that I need validation from you assholes.
- It is 9 in the morning and I've not yet slept a wink
- I watched a BBC TV serial on The Diary of Anne Frank on Netflix with Shelby and Marijke tonight
I shit you guys not: every time I watch or read anything about Anne Frank, I have the urge to start documenting my entire life through the medium of the written word. I think, since the age of 8, I've started, like, fucking eight separate diaries after reading Anne Frank. But I'm too goddamn lazy to be bothered with the whole pen + paper equation. Who writes down actual words anymore? (The answer is ONLY SQUARES DO.) So I've decided I'm going to give the whole blogging thing another shot.
I was a pretty avid blogger with a considerable readership, but I'm flaky and cannot commit to anything for long periods of time. Remember those eight separate diaries I was talking about not but four sentences ago? I didn't fill ANY of them even halfway. Because I'm a piece of shit. I don't want anyone to study my life generations from now or anything; I kind of just want to record my daily goings-on and prove to myself that I can stick to it. But, you know, if I become famous or something, I ain't even gonna be mad. My only task is making my life seem at least slightly more spectacular than the average, adolescent-angst-ridden existential crisis that it happens to be. I'm gonna try to be as earnest as possible on here, so if it gets a bit too hot, please step out of the kitchen. *water touching hot stove hissing noise right here*
I suppose I should describe myself a bit for the people who don't know me. HAHA jokes! I really just want to talk about myself a likkle:
I was born in the bitter cold of December in 1992. That's another joke. I was born in the Philippines where it is rarely cold. I moved to Canada on my birthday when I was but a babe. I turned five on the airplane. The airline gave me cake. In return, I pissed my pants in the airplane seat. Anyhow, I've lived in Buttfuck Suburbia since then, and am constantly on the verge of hanging myself from the swing set of one of hundreds of strategically-placed children's parks in the city where I live. I'm currently a student at a local university where I go about my day doing absolutely nothing and talking to absolutely no one. I'm currently employed as a salesperson ("STYLIST") at a retail store in a local mall where my job is to shill overpriced (but lovely) clothing on every hapless person who wanders through the entrance.
In general, I'm a hot mess who doesn't know what she's doing ever. (Have I told you guys I'm probably going to do a lot of complaining? Because I am. Again, if this doesn't appeal to you, take two steps left and you'll have exited the kitchen where the heat is gonna get intense, people. 98 Degrees-circa-1997-white-turtleneck-intense type heat.) (That was a big parentheses; is that kosher in the writing world? W8 this is my blog who even curr ab prose?)
I don't really complain that much in real life. I feel like I've earned the right to be whiny ungrateful bitch on my own time.
I'm also gonna try to post other things besides me ranting about whatever, though. Like... Music. And clothes. And pictures and stories and stuff. Fluffy stuff. Because you can't be serious all the time or else you end up looking like a Debbie Downer. I am not a Downer, and I am not a Debbie, so gotta keep it lighthearted. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Honestly, it's like 10 AM now so I've been writing this for an hour and my brain is starting to hurt and staring my computer screen is making my eyeballs quiver. I think I'm done.I dunno what else to write for now. I'm going to send this blog to my friends and inform them of my intention to post regularly so that I get embarrassed if I don't write in it again LMAO #foolprooftactics.
It feels pretty good to be typing this up right now.
Hopefully the euphoria sticks.
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