Been quite busy these past 2 weeks. I had to man my upscale halo-halo station for my sister's research project. The aim was to be like Ice Monster or Cerealicious, but the people around our neighborhood are not well versed with those kind of products. At the end of the week, we lost about 178.30 pesos in capital. It's a flop, but we (especially my sister and her group mates) learned a lot.
I also applied at JP Morgan and Chase and got declined within the day. Fantastic. I kinda realized that the I would wither away with the daily commute to their office. I think of it as a blessing in disguise (yes this is me not being bitter about it).
Then I helped out with my granny's 75th birthday. Talk about a party with "she-bang." We bought lechon, pichi-pichi, cake, ice cream. We cooked fried chicken, spaghetti, pansit palabok, maja blanca, and an assortment of grilled fish. We rented out a karaoke machine. I sang my heart out - I got freaking 100 when I sang Dynamite by Taio Cruz and freaking 87 when I sang Animal by Neon Trees, which I think is so wrong. We drank 5 different bottle of white wine. Happiness. I got into a tickle fight with my cousins, then they inevitably puked afterwards from too much laughing.
Did I say I drank a lot of white wine? When the party ended, I ninja-d my way back to the karaoke machine and sang more songs.
I guess, when I'm doing a lot of things, that's when I feel contented. I can feel the grip of loneliness and depression unfasten on me. I feel lighter and happier when I'm constantly on the move. Maybe all I needed was a diversion from all the spare time of brooding and self-pitying. And I felt a kind of release when my mom finally read my letter.
Am I gonna be writing my own version of Eat, Pray, Love now?