100 Things About Me

Let’s start with the first 25…

1. I hate confrontations. I’m not the confrontational type, despite my angas attitude. I’d rather seethe or break bottles in private, or with someone I trust.

2. I like smashing/throwing bottles when I’m mad or totally frustrated. It doesn’t have to be a glass bottle; a mineral water bottle will do just fine. But of course, nothing beats the thrill of violence associated with breaking glass bottles into pieces.

3. But this does not mean that I’m a dominantly violent person. Yes, I can be violent, but I throw things only when there is a very valid reason. For example: there is this one time that I saw some naughty messages on my then-boyfriend’s YM…and they were not mine. The unfortunate hombre was not able to come up with a reason good enough to placate my legendary temper, so I gathered all his remote controls and threw them at him and his very expensive Mac desktop. Totally understandable, right?

4. I’m a stickler for privacy. This explains why I choose to live alone. I don’t like people coming over my house unannounced, unless they are close friends of mine. And unless you brought a bag full of money with you, I’d be royally pissed if I see you on my doorstep without me knowing you’ll be dropping by.

5. I’m a book addict. Booksale, Powerbooks and Fully Booked are some of my most favorite places in the world. I prefer to buy books at bargain prices because I’m such a cheapskate. If I can’t find a book at Booksale or those stalls along Recto and University Belt, that’s the only time I will get it at those high-end bookstores. I also love bidding for books on e-Bay.

6. I’m a voracious ukay-ukay shopper. Whatever designer items I have I got from the ukay at prices you’d never imagine. The only thing I won’t buy from those shops is footwear. I like my shoes brand-new, no matter how cheap or expensive, thank you very much.

7. My favorite drinking holes are Anthology Bar and Blue Room, both in Malate. An ice-cold bottle of Red Horse is my favorite poison.

8. I love swearing. It’s an outlet. And I don’t care if you think that’s disgusting. Fuck you.

9. I can drink tap water and survive. I will resort to drinking mineral water only if the liquid that is coming out of the faucet has a suspicious-looking color.

10. I love aviator sunglasses, no matter what brand. This is the only type of shades that I’ll wear. None of those oversized I-look-like-a-giant-bug pair of shades for me. I’m praying that some generous soul will give me a pair of Ray-Ban aviators for my birthday. Hehe.

11. I’m a closet Britney Spears fan. I dance to “I’m a Slave for You” when I’m home alone, complete with the hand-twirling bit. And I never get tired of watching her performance of “Baby, One More Time” during her Las Vegas concert, the one where she danced in the rain. It’s the sexiest Britney Spears performance I’ve ever seen. I love it to death.

12. I’m a proud Guns n’ Roses fan. Of course, I’m referring to the original band. Back in high school, I’d scrimp on recess and lunch money just to save enough to buy the Use Your Illusion cassette tapes. Yes, cassette tapes. I’m one of those stupid fools who placed a mirror beside the album cover to see if there is a picture of the devil cleverly hidden within the blue and orange portraits. I wore cycling shorts and a bandanna across my forehead because I wanna be Axl. I strummed our pitiful walis tambo because I wanna be Slash. I was THAT crazy.

13. I can never have enough black tank tops. I can wear them everyday for the rest of my life.

14. I can be very frugal. When you’re writing for a living and you have to support your mom, yourself and whatever vices you have, it’s only natural.

15. I eat like a man, especially when served with my mother’s cooking. Place a bowl of hot and spicy sinigang on the table and I will eat a minimum of two plates of rice in one sitting. I can eat sinigang everyday for the rest of my life.

16. The best way to my heart is through my stomach. I had a boyfriend who loves taking me out for breakfast, lunch or dinner. He would cook for me whenever I’m staying over at his pad. He made it his responsibility to fatten me up and make sure I eat right to put some meat on my slender bones. I loved that.

17. I hate Ortigas, as in I really hate the place. Ortigas is hell for commuters, especially if you work in the area. I’ve worked at Tektite for a couple of months and I loathed every minute of it. Recently, I’ve had several job offers from there, all promising attractive remuneration. I turned them down as soon as I learned they are located at motherfucking Ortigas.

18. I love fucking. C’mon, who doesn’t?

19. I have moles in um, strategic parts of my body. The biggest one is somewhere down there and it’s kinda hard to miss. If a lover doesn’t know where they are, then he really doesn’t know me. But then again, I don’t normally fuck with the lights on or in broad daylight, so maybe there’s an excuse.

20. I like kissing girls, especially very pretty girls. For me, that Katy Perry song is so ten years ago.

21. I’ve had sex with a woman and it felt really nice. This does not prove that I’m a lesbian, or a bisexual. This just proves that I love to experiment.

22. I only had a couple of boyfriends in my 28 years of existence. I know this is fairly surprising, considering my so-called “experience,” but it’s true. Lovers, (remember that I’m using the term in the most general sense) I’ve had plenty, but boyfriends? Probably because I consider relationships as a serious matter. Or maybe I’m just hopelessly repulsive, I don’t know. I take relationships seriously. When I’m in a commitment or just plain head over feet in love with someone, I give whatever I can give. I make effort. I try to make him the happiest bastard on Earth. I love to fuss over my man. Maybe that’s why I’m choosy.

23. Another surprising fact: I’m truly a monogamous person. Really. If can I find somebody that I’m totally compatible with sexually, I can forget about sleeping with other men. No matter what the setup is.

24. I have a hopeless habit of denial everytime I fall in love. Some deeply ingrained pride refuses to believe that I have actually fallen for someone like a ton of bricks. I try to fight it until it becomes obvious that I’m just wasting my time denying it. Then I exercise the most extreme act of cowardice: disappear on the unsuspecting guy. I do that because I’m chickenshit.

25. I don’t like faking orgasms. It’s stupid and pointless. It’s totally unnecessary. If he can’t make me cum, then he can’t make me cum, period. I’d rather teach him how to satisfy me than make him think he is fucking Casanova. I’m with the guys here – I would be hurt if you try to fake an orgasm with me, if that’s actually possible.