Quiquay: quirks

Just because... ... I haven't referred to the incident for three decades doesn't mean I forgot it. ... it happened when I was a child doesn't mean it does not affect me as an adult. ... there was no penetration doesn't mean the abuse didn't happen. ... they were doing drugs does not excuse what they did. ... it wasn't my fault doesn't mean I'll feel clean for the rest of my life. ... I chose to ignore them does not mean I've forgiven them.  ... I was a victim doesn't mean I'll spend the rest of my life helpless. ... it happened to me doesn't mean I cannot forge meaningful relationships with others. There is such a thing as karma and I know they will eventually burn for eternity. I chose to rise above the situation and I deserve my happiness.

This is a rather old entry I did but never posted. As you can see from the date, it was a looooooong time ago. Still, some of the lessons could still be used by others, I hope. The guy has long been forgotten and the memory has faded away. Read away.... 041206 A lady the never makes the first move. This rule has been drummed into my stubborn head too many times by the conservative society that I grew up in. But then again, it’s a rule I always chafed under. Now I’m desperately trying to resist the urge to make the first contact with the “guy”. It’s nothing, really. Just a “hi!” or whatever “witty” nonsense I could conjure out of the hat. But it’s not a good idea. There’s nothing for us to talk about. And nothing for me to say to him , except, “Hey, you owe me P500.” For a disaster, I think I would just have to mark that as a loss. The money is still worth a big deal to a spendthrift like me but given the consequences, I think I could afford to lose that much. So, how do I

The guys used to want me for my body... Now they only want me for my cookies. No really, chocolate chip cookies. Or oatmeal cookies. Or brownies. Or whatever dessert I manage to concoct in my kitchen when the mood suits me. What's up with that? Hey, I'm not complaining. I just find it weirdly (and privately) hilarious my cookies are now taking the center stage. This one time, Alpha guy dropped by for a quick visit because he "missed" me and once he got to my house, went immediately for the cookie jar. And then there's the childhood friend who, whenever he finds out I'm heading their direction, I get a cryptic SMS saying, "Cookies!" And if you think that comes with strings attached, you've got it wrong. He'll drive by the shop, drop a belated "hi!", smooch internet time from this laptop to show me his latest pictures online ( I call it his 'Show and tell', grab his cookies and wave goodbye. It's like raising a te

... like I'm not pretty enough. ... or slim enough. ... or sexy enough. ... or interesting enough. ... or smart enough. ... or good in bed enough. If any of those reasons is the case, can someone please explain how I got two indecent proposals from two ex-boylets (coffee break friend and the buddy) last week? And include one very interested look from childhood friend when he saw a clip of me from dance class while fiddling with my phone. To answer your next question, I politely declined all of them. But it was tempting. =) In the meantime, ang haba ng hair ng lola mo! Hahaha.

Most of the time I look forward to the new year and the hope it brings. This year I'm a little bit skeptical the bedroom situation will get better. I finally went to the OB-Gyne when my period didn't arrive on schedule. Normally, I'm as regular as a calendar so two weeks of delay was too much. No, I'm not pregnant - as I informed one too many nurse and doctor. Even I'm not stupid enough to ask for an appointment without knowing if I was pregnant or not. Besides, it's impossible to get preggy without a sperm donor and that has not been on the menu for several months now (oh, don't get me started). As it is, it's my PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome - it's when your eggs don't mature as planned and look like cysts) that's causing the hold-up. And the doctor casually added that the largest of my asymptomatic myomas has grown to the size of a small fist (and that I had two more grape-sized ones) and should be removed through surgery. She added t