RelationShits (v2)

Boyfriend-girlfriend. Parent-child. Friend-friend. Relationships are relationships. Regardless of who is involved, it’s based on the way two or more people interact and treat each other. To no surprise, my last “relationship” was a bad one. 

It started out like most of my relationships, optimistic and full of excitement. We celebrated wins – big and small, and were constantly learning about each other. I was curious. I was invested. However, I began to notice that while my counterpart treated me seemingly well, it wasn’t the case for those around me. Our “honeymoon phase” lasted less than a year before I saw the relationship for what it truly was – a one way street.

My “partner” was the exact opposite of the definition. We didn’t work together, and I never felt understood or supported.I was constantly giving without receiving so much as common courtesy or respect in return, and those around me took notice. Needless to say, it was an abusive relationship. One that I endured for 2 years. Never in a million years did I think I’d be one of those women who tolerated that kind of blatant disrespect. Continue reading

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How to Make the Ordinary, Extraordinary.

I woke up today and immediately went downstairs to make breakfast. The extra hour in the morning I have to do this is a luxury I’ve recently acquired from the new job. I made my my morning elixir and some toast with almond butter, strawberries, bananas, and chia seeds on top. I ate it while watching the morning news (or at least what I could tolerate until I switched it over to Botched), and showered afterwards. It was just another, ordinary day. 

Except when I got in my car, the radio was playing Nas’s Oochie Wally and I automatically got into full-blown ratchet-girl-dancing in the basement of a house party mode, body-rolling in my seat as I switched gears. By the time I got to work, I was feeling energized, focused and dare I say it – GOOD?

If you know me, then you know that I am not the one to be feeling all positive and shit. Yet that’s exactly how I felt sitting at my desk. Naturally, I began to question this optimism. Thinking it’s a fluke, and that something bad was bound to rain all over my parade. I started to feel silly about being happy. Then, I started to feel silly for feeling silly about being happy. I felt like the universe was going to take it all away at any minute. WHO FEELS BAD FOR FEELING GOOD? Continue reading

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what does your anxiety feel like?

Imagine receiving a phone call from someone you rarely talk to. If you’re anything like me, your guts will slowly make its way up to your neck, knowing that their number on your caller ID can only mean something bad occurred. Now imagine them leaving a voicemail (an even rarer occurrence), but not being able to call them back until your lunch break 45 minutes later. Remember how you felt during those 45 minutes.

Imagine making breakfast one morning. You know, letting the pan warm up while you whisk away at some eggs. It’s nice outside, and you think you can get away with wearing shorts that day. Now imagine bursting into tears just seconds later for (seemingly) no reason.

Imagine a break up so bad that you don’t want to have any connection whatsoever to your ex. You’ve unfollowed them on social media, disconnected yourself from mutual friends, and make it a point to not frequent the same places. Now imagine they’re just around the corner – with their new boo. 

Imagine laying in bed on what most people would deem a good day. No barking from the dog, no smog, and mama cooked a breakfast with no hog. You think about how lucky you are to be surrounded by good people, and how fortunate you are to have a roof over your head and food on your plate. Then, you think surely things are too good to be true and it will all come crashing down any second now. Then, you think of how unsuccessful you are. Then, you think of how you’re going to die soon with nothing substantial accomplished. Then, you think of how it feels to be dead. Then, you think that you can’t even think of how it feels to be dead, because – YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD.  Continue reading

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Shit Bitches Love Pt. VII

It’s Friday. I got the Soul Food soundtrack playing on Spotify, and the Dubs are playing tonight, so why not post another installment of “Shit Bitches Love”. For those of you who are new to this rant, it’s pretty self-explanatory: a post about the shit bitches (including myself) love. Usually, these are trends we love to hate. Or just love. Or just hate. Read on, and you’ll see what I mean. 

Those damn letter balloons. I want to track down the origin of every party post on Pinterest just to find out who started this trend. Every event you attend – whether it’s a bachelorette, bar-mitzvah, or divorce party, you’re sure to find some mylar letter balloons spelling out the obvious like below. What’s next? A #RIP set up at someone’s funeral? Having said that, best believe I got some for my best friend’s baby shower. Why? Cuz bitches love balloons, DUH. 


I mean if you’re gonna do it, do it right.

Avocado toastI’ve always loved avocados. On my toast, in my eggs, on chips, in my glass with milk and sugar (What? You know us Filipinos are weird eaters). Hell, I even pay an extra $1.80 for that bitch just so my chicken burrito bowl is lit. But lately, the whole avocado toast bit has taken the world by storm. It used to be you’d smoosh some avocados with a little S&P and put it on some bread, but now they’re putting everything on that shit … and this bitch is eating it. Bitches love toast you can take pictures of.

Despacito. I swear there was one day where I saw 3 photos on IG with the caption Despacito on it, and for a few weeks after that I kept hearing people talk about it. Meanwhile, I couldn’t tell if it was a person or a movie. I JUST heard the song for the first time 2 days ago, and I honestly don’t get it. Then again, I didn’t get Tevas either and now I may or may not have a pair in my closet. Like with many songs, this one will probably grow on me. Bitches love things that grow on them, ayeeee.

Quay. My bad, this one is actually a little overdue. So much that bitches might not even love this sunglasses brand anymore. Just know that when they did, they did it looking like a trendy bug (and I say that as a person who owns a pair of Quay’s). Bitches be buggin. 

Sneaky VauntIf you’re scratching your head wondering WTF a Sneaky Vaunt is, I don’t blame you. Because no one cares about a company name or even product when the person advertising it got their titties wildin out. If that sounds a little familiar, it’s because Sneaky Vaunt is the brand that makes that strapless, push-up bra that every IG model and C-D list celebrity is promoting. And if I had anything to actually push up, this bitch would probably love it too. Bitches love a little help every now and then. 

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“we repeat what we don’t repair”.

When your heart is broken, your first response is to mend it. This can be done in several ways. For some, it’s going out with your girlfriends. Putting on your favorite freak’um dress, drinking one too many drinks, and dancing the night away somewhere you know your fine ass will be seen and word of how fine you are will get back to the ex. 

For others, it’s unleashing their inner ho. Reactivating your Tinder account, swiping right, and actually responding to those you match with, or giving your old booty-call a “What ‘cha doing?” text at 11:40pm. 

Then, you have those that go on a “Bad bitch” rampage. They’re married … to the hustle, all about their business, and no longer have time to be in a relationship. Their social media is filled with quotes about being too busy achieving their dreams to care about dating. 

If you want different results, you have to try different approaches right? Well, the first time I remember dating, I got ahead of myself. I wore my heart on my sleeve all over like an obnoxious monogram purse. So the second time I made sure to play it cool aka pretend I didn’t care and suppress my feelings until they started pouring out my ears. The last time, I really thought I had it down. I told myself to be honest with my feelings upfront, and have “the” conversation early on. I was honest with the other person, but not with myself. That strategy didn’t work, because I failed to realize that I’d never be OK with being a booty-call or even friends with  benefits. 

See, I was all those girls I mentioned above. I tried to be every girl except for the girl who loved herself. The girl who accepted her flaws, and built on her beauty. The girl who didn’t settle for less than she deserved. The girl who believed she was enough. Despite all my attempts at trying something new, I still got the same result: heartache. Because that’s what happens when you buy a new car after every crash, instead of taking driving lessons. And that’s what happens when you try to mend a broken heart with distractions and delusions. 


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I love me some Snapchat and IG stories. It gives me something to do when I’m bored, and at times I get to live vicariously through others. Unfortunately, there are some people who missed the SnapChat etiquette seminar better known as the common sense. Below is my main gripe with video stories, as well as a few suggestions I have for both platforms. 

Fast forward function. Both Snapchat and Instagram need to add a fast forward feature like YouTube has. This is beneficial for both me and the person who made the video, because I lose interest pretty quickly and will stop watching a clip I was initially interested in because it took too long to entertain me or I didn’t have enough time to wait. Whereas, I would’ve at least fast forwarded to certain parts if it allowed me the option to skim through the video. 

Stop sending me the same shit that’s already on your story. Why? JUST WHY? It’s one thing to post it on your story, because I could easily just not watch it. But then you gotta send me the same exact shit in a direct message causing that annoying little notification alert to pop up and forever haunt me until I check it. I get it if it’s something relevant to a conversation we’ve had, but I’m going to need you to stop sending me snaps of opening the door to your car in the morning. I. DON’T. CARE. 

The ability to ignore a dmWhen all else fails and people still want to send you bullshit you could give negative fucks about, the universe should allow us to ignore a dm. Sure, we could just choose to not watch it if we already know it’s going to be useless, but this feature is imperative to people who have phone notification OCD like me. 

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HELP, I Need an Adult!

If you had told me when I was 18, that on my 33rd birthday I would be drunk slip-and-slide-flip-cupping in a friends backyard, I would’ve never believed you. Back then, I was under the impression that at a certain age you turn into an adult and no longer cry into a bowl of ice-cream when you get your heart-broken, or have an all-night laughfest trying to imitate Chewbacca. Thankfully, I was wrong. Sure, I’m more a little more responsible now and I have things like a 401k plan and Godkids, but there are still a few things I will never outgrow. 

Enrolling for benefits – Truth be told, I’ve had my mom do this for me (or at least check them) each time I’ve gotten a new job. It’s not that I don’t understand it, I just don’t want to deal with it. HMO, PPO, deductibles, flipfluctuals – whatever. You might as well be speaking a different language. I spent 10 minutes just this morning trying to figure out if I should enroll for HMO or PPO, come to find out my job only offers PPO. 

Visiting the dentist. Every 6 months I go to the dentist, and every 6 months I’m scared of the big, bad man with the teeth gun! 

Being my mother’s daughter. I could be 50, and my mom will always be my mommy. I will never be too old to cry in her arms, ask her for help, bring over my laundry, or request my favorite homemade meal. And I’ll always be too young to talk about sex around her. Ew, that’s just yucky!

Now click after the jump to read about 3 ways I’m kinda adulting!

Continue reading

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