Christmas Weirdness

Something's wrong with me. Oh fucking no.

I'm having this overly-weird feeling of contentment. Like you know, not wanting an iTouch, nor an iPhone, nor a DSLR camera. Obviously, those are only the things that are in my mental wishlist, ranked by pseudo-trendiness of course. I can't believe I'm suddenly having this unusual euphoria, the one that I would always get when my soul's full or something.

Oh damn it. Blame my mom. She took us all out on Christmas Eve, and told us that we will just drive-through at that McDonald's branch near our village. Oh, and did I mention that she did tell us that we will drive-through only at McDonald's? I did? Yeah well apparently my mom forgot what she just said. Instead of just driving-through one fastfood restaurant, we ended up munching on tons of calories from two different fastfood restaurants, and one donut shop. Jesus. It would be really okay if there was a time interval between those fastfood escapades, but what the hell. From Eastwood, we went to Greenhills. From there, we went to Taco Bell. I swear to God I can still feel some churros crawling in my mega-thighs.

After that, we went to a mall in Taguig to shop our asses off. The last time we spent 10 grand on clothing was 2 years ago, and all of what we bought was just from one store. Sports Warehouse. Damn. I enjoyed the shopping, actually. It was the first time I felt so anxious in picking out new clothes to fit, then throw it over the counter, thinking that my mom probably has a vault in her bag anyway.

And it changed everything. And by that italicized word, I mean the whole gadget-freak thing. I'm denying the fact that I'm not losing it, because duh. Fantasizing about gadgets has been the source of my shemale wet dreams, and have made me distinct among the bazillions of people around me. Ever since that faithful day my dad and I went to Octagon, I've been worshiping motherboards and graphic cards like hell. It's not because I don't have a specific social life (Alright. Maybe I do. Like any of you would give a damn anyway.), but because gadgets are very much people I would like to meet. It's not a matter of being a geek at technology by collecting such advancements, but on the other hand learning what you should ergo be by these smart things.

But now, oh WOW. It's not that I can't decide between an Apple iPhone or a Motorola Razr2 V9m because of their outstanding features. It's if these things are useful, and can leave good impressions to people. It's if these advancements can exterminate my clothing shortage for college time. It's if these mobile phones are available on size 20, or have this incredible and miraculous ability to make my thighs 50 pounds thinner or lighter.

Oh, for the love of God.

I'm not turning into a damn fashion-wise bitch. No fucking way. I'll re-read all my T3 magazines, post some tech joke at PhilMUG, and do some more research on a potential replacement for that DSLR that should be my Christmas gift tomorrow. On the dot.

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Christmas was...okay. I received a Clue board game and this graffiti jacket from Mom, a Starbucks planner with hefty cash inside from that lady who works at a high-rolling hospital near Meralco (I think she's my aunt. I'm not sure. I mean, she keeps giving me these nifty stuffs every now and then. I'll go with the auntie idea, because she's my dad's sister.), food and cash from my other relatives. Dad was weird. When I told him that I've decided to just buy a cooler DSLR camera on my graduation next year, he told me to buy an iPhone instead. No, not just told. He more like requested me to buy one.

El weirdo.

Anyways, I'm thinking of shutting this blog down soon. I don't really know why, but I have the slightest feeling that I'll be abandoning it some time next year. I saw Patti's blog a while ago and I realized that I'm writing crap, compared to my classmate and friend's awesome articles. There's not even a tinge of shittiness in any of her articles, nor swear words. I'm no good.

Better make the last of everything good.

(Oh and by the way, I answered my own question and ate up a chunk of my pride last night. I sent a Christmas greeting to whatshisfuckingface, and he replied accordingly. And no, my hopes aren't rising up.)

(Alright, maybe they are actually rising up. As if I care anyway.)

(Okay. Maybe I do care. For myself, not for some goofball who knows nothing but to drink and entice girls to have sex. Jesus. What a college kid.)