Giddy

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Giddy

It's really a shame this skin doesn't show the blogtitle. I get oh-so tired of putting the title back up on my blogpost. I should just edit the template, I know, but I am shamefully oh-so lazy to do that.

I remembered something. I was reading Van's blog (check it out; I am practically breathing it) and letting myself get completely attached though she might not even return my link exchange request, therefore breaking my heart utterly in the process, but anyway, I was reading something about rain, and the OST of Babel on Star Movies was just devouring me, it was so lovely, the I was lulled into a memory I forgot I had.

I was eating at The Breakfast Club, on the corner opposite the church, on Saturday morning. I got there so early--7:30, and Good News class assembly is an hour later, and the time when people actually show up is 30 mins to an hour later--thinking I need a huge chunk of time to order and eat, having used to do so on breakfasts and whenever I ate there. So I went there, ordered my food, waited, sat down reading, catching up on my pitiful Bible reading (currently, we are in Psalm 103, and I have no idea where that leaves me, because I read the Bible on pitstops: General Knowledge of the Bible, which consists of the Old Testament; Encouragement, which would be Psalms; Instruction, which would be on Proverbs. I've done Thessalonians to James. I plan to add to more categories, Life of Christ and Christian Living. Bless my dear heart. Now go find what I was saying before I started yakking away about my uber complex, rigorous theology) and sipping up the complimentary gripo water while waiting for my steaming hot 3 strips of Maple-cured bacon and rice and I look back now and note how giddy I felt. Eating on my own, like I had such a sense of purpose. How novel. How simple of me.

There really are times when I feel that way. When I have to act all grown-up, and responsible, and like I have a sense of purpose. And I have been doing that a lot lately. With the giddy feeling side effect.

So doesn't that say much? I realize in that way that I am still a kid. But that I am an adult already.

"Too young to be old. Too old to be young."
--Orange Juice. You know, that clothing line for wannabes. (that I wanted to get my hands on when I was 8 and read W.I.T.C.H.)

Oh oh OH. I do so like the way I talk but hate the way I am so easily influenced when I read stuff that sound so like Princess Diaries and Van's blog. Suckeeer. Fan!

Funny. Why don't I use this surge of writing ability to do my Palanca essay?

There. I think I used it all up.

Excuses!

...did I just argue with myself there?

To-do list:
-Bible fast tomorrow. No TV, no blog, no other books. Oh yeah, try exercising my stand of temptation, since I have all those things in perfect reach wherever I go in this so-called house.
-water Mama's rose. I keep forgetting to water it in the morning. Or if I did I'll forget in the evening. I wish I had my copy of The Little Prince--then I'd read to it. It's with Charlene Ortega, aka Cha Ortz (as she prefers, because there are 2 Charlenes in the batch) aka Purple-a-boosh. Miss you. ;)
-Finish Palanca essay (shivers) by tomorrow AND send it via airmail. Dannngg.

Ohhhhhh mannnnn.