For a few years now, I've been wearing my hair stick straight and long. And it's really boring me. So, now I want it permed. But since it's rebonded, the only perming method possible is digital perming. I want loose curls (maybe more like waves) from roots to tips. My hair is kinda thin and flat, and it gets really ugly at the roots. Think Cachupoy. I hope it's possible to have my hair permed from the roots. I want it to look like this:Photo credits: funadvice.com

I've asked a few salons and the price of having a digital perm ranges from Php 3k to Php5k. I'll have to think about it first. The amount I'm going to spend, if and when I decide to go for it, could actually take me to Dumaguete already. Hmm. Think, think, think.

There's more to life than work.

So they say.

But for people like me, it's work, work, work. I'm not happy with it, of course. But I don't have a lot of choices. Tomorrow, I have a job interview. I'm not sure whether to go or not. It's quite early and the office is quite inaccessible. Hmm.

I'm too sleepy. Prepaid internet sucks. Bigtime!

Mrazing

A week ago, a friend asked me, "If you can see only one concert in your life, whose concert would it be?" I find it rather difficult to answer, considering it could make or break me. I wanted to say Amy Winehouse's, but that could lead my friend to believing that I'm a drug addict. "Angel, you have to think harder," I said to myself. I tried to recall everything that's on my iPod, and bingo! "Jason Mraz's!"

Photo credit: jasonmraz.com

I love the guy. Totally. He writes his songs, plays superb music, and is very attractive. He's smart and funny. Some may find him offensive, but to each his own.

Over the weekend, the friend asked me if I know Jason's bio. And god, I didn't! So yesterday, I took some time out to read about him. I learned that his family's from Czechoslovakia. And he's a vegetarian. I was also pleased to know that he's not gay. Although I don't see any problem if he is. He is hot!

Okay, my infatuation isn't all that shallow. I admire him because he loves life. He's human. He procrastinates once in a while, takes his photo in the mirror (with only his undies on and with a knife in one hand), admits to taking supplements, frets on small things. He's awesome! I promise to see him in this lifetime.

Why? When? How?

These questions keep ringing in my ear. Despite my very tight schedule, they still manage to make it into my mind, almost always simultaneously. This stage actually feels like deja vu. This has happened half a year ago, too.

I know I'm being very vague here. But then, everything's vague even to me. I'm always being reminded that "everything happens for a reason", and I'm supposed to stop asking questions. But then again, I was probably created by God to ask!

For as far as I can remember, friends come to me for answers. And it's just sad that I can't answer my own questions. I am totally fucked-up.