i miss the “vagina”

This is an excerpt from Chapter 1 of The Vagina Monologues: The V-Day Edition:

Let’s just start with the word “vagina.” It sounds like an infection at best, maybe a medical instrument: “Hurry, Nurse, bring me the vagina.” “Vagina.” “Vagina.” Doesn’t matter how many times you say it, it never sounds like a word you want to say. It’s a totally ridiculous, completely unsexy word. If you use it during sex, trying to be politically correct-“Darling, could you stroke my vagina?”-you kill the act right there.

I’m worried about vaginas, what we call them and don’t call them.

In Great Neck, they call it a pussycat. A woman there told me that her mother used to tell her, “Don’t wear panties underneath your pajamas, dear; you need to air out your pussycat.” In Westchester they called it a pooki, in New Jersey a twat. There’s “powderbox,” “derrière,” a “poochi,” a “poopi,” a “peepe,” a “poopelu,” a “poonani,” a “pal” and a “piche,” “toadie,” “dee dee,” “nishi,” “dignity,” “monkey box,” “coochi snorcher,” “cooter,” “labbe,” “Gladys Siegelman,” “VA,” “wee wee,” “horsespot,” “nappy dugout,” “mongo,” a “pajama,” “fannyboo,” “mushmellow,” a “ghoulie,” “possible,” “tamale,” “tottita,” “Connie,” a “Mimi” in Miami, “split knish” in Philadelphia, and “schmende” in the Bronx. I am worried about vaginas.

a crosspost from my multiply: moment of epiphany

When you have three more hours to spare at work, it helps to read through your friends’ blogs. Reading through one of my friend’s blog entries, it has just dawned me (and I was almost surprised) that it has been a year since I graduated.

Looking back on that very day of my graduation, I did not know whether to be proud or scared. As one of my blocmates said, there was no epiphanic moment. There was none of those tear-jerker moments we often witness on graduation rites (except for a few). Oh well, I would give myself a credit for having undergone four years of grilling in one of the underrated courses in UPMin. Yep, it was a torture! That is why I counted this success the sweetest…

But what have I become after a year in the “real world“?

I know, it has been overrated. But for someone like me whose going through the transformation of being a college student to an independent woman, it is a scary thought. It’s not only about getting a decent (repeat: decent) job, it’s the fact that I am slowly carving the paths to wherever I am headed from here on out.

After two jobs – the first one paid well enough but did not offer me self-fulfillment, the second one that was referred to by my mom as a “blessing in disguise” – I felt like I haven’t seen much of the harshness that the “real world” has to offer. But then, I don’t really believe that you have to fall in order to stand up tall. And I believe that I am standing tall.

So, if you’re asking what I have become then? This is all there is to me as of this writing…

Hopefully, tomorrow, or the next few months (or years, don’t count on me please) I’ll be somewhat different.

second coming

So, my grandmother (my dad’s aunt) has just passed away. At the age of 90-something, somehow I feel happy for her. The world is not at all that nurturing to her anymore; she deserved to finally rest for good.

On another note, I checked my other blog this morning. And as my mood for today has deemed the layout quite boring, I wanted to change it. I won’t even try and make lie about my blogging know-how’s, but to make a long story short, I messed the whole thing up.

And here I am, trying to make a new one. And that’s two deaths I have to deal with. And as if losing people in your life would be as easy as right-clicking the mouse or creating a username for a new blog, both would have different significance (or non-significance, for that matter) for me.

Granma, may your soul rest in peace.

summer solstice

Longer days and shorter nights. It was evident today.. The annoying alarm clock did not wake me somehow, I still wanted to go back to sleep, even if it meant i’d be late for work.

But the sun’s rays was beckoning me to get out of bed and start the day. Somehow, it was a promise of a great day ahead. And although it was a Friday (yes, weekends always excite me!), I had illusory dreams of me with a nice piña colada in hand, in my skimpy swimming attire, trying to fight off the burning summer heat with the soothing cool waters.

This past weekend, I had a nice get-together with a few friends. It was both a welcome treat but also a painful reminder.

A treat, because we were able to enjoy the season and have a few good laughs. But it was painful to think that it will only last for as long as we are together. And when we have to part ways, we had to go back to the boring routine of our everyday lives. But it was glad to have that escape..not everyone gets the chance.

That’s why I try to keep away from the computer for the weekends. I needed it to revive my sanity. Getting a job should not always entail a non-existent social life. After all, we all work our asses off to enjoy what we have.

So, there goes, we laughed like crazy. It’s one of the few “free” things in this capitalist world.

The alarm goes off again, and the sun’s rays has lost its romantic appeal. The world seems to stop at this time of day. But I had to get up, I still have loads of work waiting for me at the office.