New look

I got a haircut and people seem to really like it. Even guys have been responding, and it's weird coz I've always thought guys never notice when a girl changes her hair.

I've been wanting to get bangs since last year, but I either didn't have time or extra cash to spend on a new look. I finally made time, and after deciding that I wasn't gonna move out, discovered that I did have extra cash (it's amazing how you realize how much money you actually have if you don't have to pay rent!). Other stylists told me before that I couldn't have bangs because my hair was too thin, so I ran to my almost-roomie/beauty guru Marie, who referred me to a stylist who could work wonders with my hair...within my budget.

So I set an appointment with Mr. Rene Vizmanos, who listened to what I wanted (with matching show-and-tell pegs) and gave his own input. I put the fate of my hair in his able hands, and he worked his magic. I was a little worried at first because it seemed like he snipped off A LOT of hair, but after a while, I relaxed. (My hair had gotten incredibly long after all. Plus I'm never worried for long when it comes to haircuts because, no matter what cut I end up with, it will grow back.) After the blowout, they were like, "Ganyan ang buhok ng mga nasa Desperate Housewives!" Er, it wasn't my objective to look like I was from Wisteria Lane, but hey, they have sexy hair, so I'll take it!

I was a little nervous about how H would react. He had never seen me with bangs. Come to think of it, I'd never seen me with bangs! The verdict? He thought it was hot. "It's like having a new girlfriend," he said. To which I replied, "The old me is jealous."

I am so lovin' this hair. I just hope I can maintain it!

Ready for your own new look? Go see Rene Vizmanos at J 23 Salon and Spa, 89 Timog Ave., QC (beside Pan de Manila), tel. (02) 425-1190.

Cheesy post

I woke up today feeling sooo in love, it was crazy. It's so cheesy, I know, but it feels great!

I got to see H a lot last week, and I must say, I'm quite liking being around him so much. And the more I'm around him, the more I end up missing him. Yesterday, we spent the whole day together--we started it with shopping in the morning, and ended with watching PBA live in the evening. Our hearts weren't into the game so much because neither of us was completely a San Miguel fan or an Alaska fan.

"You look like a gambling man," I told him. "Care to make this more interesting?" So we decided to choose sides.

And now he owes me dinner. Ha!

Hellomoto

Once again, I'm realizing how the simple (albeit time-consuming) act of transferring contact info from one phone to another can trigger nostalgia.

I've had my trusty Nokia 3530 (I'm not even sure that's the exact model) for four years now, and I would probably keep on using it if only it weren't begging for retirement. Calls have become a pain because the handset has developed a nasty habit of blocking out the sound from my end--so while all my callers hear silence, all I hear is a loud "Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Hello?" Texting has also become quite a chore as the keys now hinder my speedy fingers, and keep me from indulging in one of my talents: the no-look text.

And so, H and I went phone shopping at Motorola. (For some reason, I was attracted to this brand in particular, even though the text messages don't have emoticons or even the typical smiley face. Hmph.) There was a beautiful Dolce and Gabbana model that momentarily mesmerized us and lured our Capricorn side, but we both knew I wouldn't go for it. While I was prepared to settle for a little phone that had all the basics, he eventually sold me on the idea of getting one that was 3G-enabled ("We could see each other while talking!"--a great selling point when you're in a pseudo-long-distance relationship like ours) and which had a two-megapixel camera (no more fretting about not having a cam whenever I try a new restaurant). I was choosing between a golden beauty that was sooo me, and a sleek, hot pink one which was a slightly older model but which came loaded with all the necessary (and not-so-necessary) accessories. It was the age-old battle between style and substance. But this is me we're talking about, so naturally, substance won out (although no one could accuse my tight little hot pink phone of lacking in style).

Since I got it though, I haven't been able to use it full time. There's that blasted chore of transferring all the contacts in my phone memory one by one. Since my old handset is a bit of a dinosaur phone by today's standards, synching isn't possible, so de mano was the only way to go. It's been nearly a week and I've gotten as far as the Qs. Thing is, I'm not all business when it comes to this. It's not just about reading and typing and double-checking that I got the right number--and even with this third step, I'm convinced I've made a few errors.

That a lot of time has passed and a lot of changes have taken place became more apparent as I read old nicknames and typed new surnames, decided which contacts were worth keeping and which could be erased from memory--both from my phone's and my own--forever, and remembered old friends fondly while struggling to recall who the hell some of these people were. Seeing a term of endearment on my old phone screen would take me back to the day that I came up with it, or the time I spent with that person--time that's seemingly so precious now, even though back then it was just another ordinary day. These are the Ngases and Melts and Bebs whom I've drifted away from, and whose company I miss.

There are also the new hyphenates--my now-married friends who have new last names that I'm not quite used to yet, but old last names that don't seem to fit anymore. There are places attached to names (e.g., carlos-US), making me wonder if they had a good day, if they're having a good life, if foreign soil is treating them well. There are old business contacts I probably have no need for ever again, names that are vaguely familiar, and names that I would rather forget but keep anyway because it's sometimes good to be reminded of how far you've come. And then there are the names that aren't there--people I lost touch with before celphones were a necessity, and when a blue-green pager was my constant companion. (It doesn't work anymore, but I still have it.)

I don't know if I'm subconsciously delaying this transfer of phone contacts. I guess I'm having a hard time getting rid of my old phone because part of me believes that phones are more than just objects. They kind of have a life of their own--they carry memories, give you messages, are portals through which you could hear a loved one's voice when you need it most. It's more than just the basic katamaran that comes with the task, and more than just getting all senti over an object I've had for years. It's saying goodbye to people and parts of my past which don't have a place in my life anymore. And goodbyes are never easy for me.

Late bloomer

I finally understand why people drink.

I never really developed a taste for alcohol, and I never really enjoyed the feeling of having had a bit too much of it. Plus I developed those blasted allergies a few years ago (itching, rashes, really bad headaches, palpitations...), so I would normally just sit in the sidelines and laugh as my friends got sloshed. And then I would clean up after everyone.

But last week, something weird happened. At 12:30 am on Sunday, I had this intense urge to go out and just drink. I was texting friends who were either a) too tamad to go all the way from Paranaque to pick me up, or b) game to pick me up, but not game to drink! So I decided to just stay home and sleep it off. (I had the option to drink at home, but I figured drinking alone was a bit too AA.)

It was this whole moving out business. There were just too many things going through my head, and I just wanted to forget.

I talked to my psychic friend about it. I normally don't ask this person to read me, because I would rather not know, but I was so confused about the prospect of moving out that I needed any form of guidance I could get. "It's not just the moving out that's confusing you," she said. "It's making you think about all other aspects of your life. You know this move is going to change you. You have this whole perfect life planned out, and if you move, there's a chance that it won't happen."

Tuesday night, I met up with the rest of FAKE to watch a play. Afterwards, I invited them all to go out for just one drink. True Friend was so tired and Ads had work to do, but they all agreed because I never ever do the inviting. Ever. And after I had one martini on an empty stomach, they understood why I've been off the alcohol all this time. My tolerance was at an all-time low. And I got an all-new after-effect: difficulty breathing!

Fast forward to Friday night. There I was at an event with H and Miguel, where the drinks were free-flowing. H's discovery: Champagne is my drink of choice. The next day, Miguel asked, "Nakailan ka? I was surprised. Every time the waiter offered a refill, you would say yes!" Uh, I was surpised myself. Haha. I was fine, until an hour later--there I was standing against a lamp post near the parking area, as H ran to get me a bottle of water. My world was spinning. I knew exactly what was happening. The only difference was I didn't care. About anything.

What a glorious feeling.

Cleveland rocks!

All hail King James! And I'm quite liking that Gibson kid. (I'm hoping being thrust into the limelight won't go to his head.) Detroit just looked like they gave up halfway through the fourth quarter--I didn't see the fire in their eyes.

Though I'm inclined to agree with Steve Kerr who said, "San Antonio's gonna win, but Cleveland's gonna make it closer than people think it would be," I'm enjoying this moment when a team I actually like won the Eastern Conference. It's a young team, and they kinda remind me of a bunch of high school kids just having fun. I'm guessing they've got some years of greatness ahead of them.

Read about Game 6 here. And also, read about the game everyone's still talking about--possibly one of the greatest games in playoff history--here.