Hello, my name is Patricia A. Guillermo and I am reporting from my house. I loved copying new reporters on TV. They always sound so silly yet important at the same time. There was something about being a news reporter that applied to me but I didn’t know what. I guess a part of me wanted to do what they did. As a child, I found it fascinating how composed and calm they are when reporting horrific events going on around the world. I still admire news readers now as an adult. But now I don’t know if I can do all the research and report on semi-biased opinions or hypocritical views they might have that aren’t in line with their own personal views. Plus I prefer writing compared to talk anyways. I guess that is my news reporter/reader little girl dream fading further away.
Diamonds are supposed to be a girl’s best friend but for me, it is more like a dark omen. All three of my ex-boyfriends gave me jewellery as their first gifts. It was all sweet at first and of course, I enjoy the little sparkle that jewellery can add to your outfit and those boys have a great taste in jewellery. It is only when the jewellery starts to break, rust or gets lost that signifies a symbol from God or something of high universal power that this relationship is about to come to an end. For instance, when my first boyfriend broke up with me, I chose to give back the gold bracelet he gave me as a” token of his love” (more on this in another post). He wasn’t offended I gave it back and many people were questioning why I didn’t just sell it on eBay but it was my decision so I handed it back to him. We were on and off flirting with each other and one day he was high or drunk and he mentioned how he wished I still had the bracelet. I said I didn’t want it and asked if he still had it. And surprise surprise (not), he didn’t know where it was…an expensive bracelet that was supposed to be a token of his love is forever lost- a bit like any feeling I may still have for him lol.
Then, my second boyfriend gave me a lovely necklace that was made of stretchy string, had beads threaded through it and had a moulded glass centrepiece in the shape of a heart (how romantic). I wore it every day and had it on my bedside table as I sleep at night. It lasted for 9 months and then the heart one day just broke in half (which was so ironic come to think of it). A couple of days later he broke up with me and I just knew it was some sort of sign. My third ex is a little different as I was the one who ended it with him but the necklace and earring combo (again very beautiful, expensive and often worn) had started to rust and there was a knot in the chain. Another sign that it wasn’t meant to be.
So, the lesson of the story is this: to my future boyfriend, wherever you are, whenever you will pop up in my life, please read this as a cautionary warning that jewellery leads to a break-up so don’t give me any jewellery as your first gift. (although know I do not have anything against jewellery being a second gift or a third gift etc…).
Whilst I was still going out with that boy from ‘Sat Next to Me’ post we were just hanging out being lovey-dovey (which makes me kind of nauseous thinking about it) sitting on a bench by the football field. We were talking and he leaned in to kiss me and the next thing I know, my hair and my back are drenched in orange juice. We look up and there were two of his mates laughing with amusement and one of them has an empty orange juice bottle in his hand. I turned around: ‘Why did you do that for?!’. He sneered at me: ‘Sorry it slipped.’ was the bullshit excuse that came out of his mouth. I wanted to hit him so bad but the tears came before the fist so instead, I ran to the bathroom to fix myself. I left a group of people puzzled and heard ‘Dude, what did you do?’ (which was aimed at my boyfriend). I ran to the toilet and cried with embarrassment. I was angry that I smell of orange juice and angry that my so-called-boyfriend just stood there like an idiot and watch one of his friends humiliate me (I was also pissed at the orange pouring douche of course). I composed myself and went outside met by all these people who witnessed what happened and some people who liked a gossip, trying to find out what happened. I looked at my boyfriend and his douchebag friend who were stood side by side, both looking guilty and dumbfounded but no word of apology or comfort came forward. I walked past the crowd as the bell rang and the next day all events were forgotten. I still remembered though to this day and honestly the grudge game is still strong.
Ever had anyone who suddenly comes into your school and jumps into your friendship group like it was an okay thing to do? Well, I have (twice). I am a friendly person and is open to being kind to you and being friends with you. But after a while, she had a vibe about her. I am normally good at sensing people’s aura but I think there was a delay or something. She came to high school in the third year and she jumped into the friendship circle I was in. I was okay with her for a little bit and stayed friends with her until the end. But it was the little things she said to me and did that questioned how much of a friend she really is:
- My first boyfriend broke up with me and she confessed later that she found him very cute and fancied him when she first started but saw he was with me and decided to stay away.
- I told her that I fancy this guy in confidence and she went out to ask him out for me but ended up “accidentally” asking him out for herself.
- We were supposed to be in a group for our final drama performance and she was telling me how she is extremely reluctant to work with this guy in our group. The day came when the drama teacher asked us to form our groups and I looked like a right idiot sitting there by myself when she moved to another group. She didn’t tell me anything about moving but she casually apologised a week later (like that makes it okay) *
- I joked about her looking like one of the traffic lights when she wore a red dress to prom and she was sat next to two other people wearing orange and green (one of which was actually me). She didn’t like that and snubbed our table to hang out with other people for the rest of the event.
- She moved to the Sixth Form college I went to and again (she did it twice!) hanged out with my friendship group I was in and acted like I was being distant. (I ended up leaving that friendship group after they all showed their true colours).
- I invited her to my 18th birthday party, she sang me a song and at the end of the evening, she didn’t thank me and I haven’t heard from her since.
I know that when I had started having bad vibes about her that I should have walked away much sooner and not welcomed her as my friend. But seriously, if I had just walked away I would have been the one seen as bitchy and I didn’t want that. Also, I know that being an angsty teenager I tend to have bad days and so I thought maybe I was just reflecting my problems on her (my sister also admitted she got that vibe about her when I told her about this post) but I just had a gut feeling that I am right. This experience taught me to be cautious of people who claim to be my “friend” because sometimes their intentions are not real.
*I will post a follow-up story to explain more about this drama project and my ex-friend.
As a child, curiosity gets the better of me. I was a very fortunate child and even though many people thought I was just an innocent little human being (some still do), I was very mischievous. It was a hot day and everyone was inside watching TV with electric fans in every corner of the room. The dogs were outside sleeping and I was sad that I couldn’t go out because all my friends were doing other things. I was so bored and even though I could have been doing my homework or playing with my toys I was just feeling restless. I sat on the steps in the backyard thinking what I could do. Maybe I could sneak out of the house over to my friend’s house but I know I will probably get told off. I could wake the dogs but I could also get bitten and I wouldn’t want that. Then my eyes rested on the chicken coop. The chickens have been stuck inside for a long time so a little walk couldn’t hurt them. So, I let them out. And what followed was one of the funniest things I could have ever witnessed.
The chickens jumped out of the coop and ran around the backyard. All good so far. Then one chicken hopped up on the bed bench where the dogs were taking their naps. Another chicken followed and another and the next thing you know all five chickens were having a riot walking on the sleeping dogs. But you know the saying: NEVER WALK ON SLEEPING DOGS (okay I made that up). The dogs, of course, woke up and tried to murder the chickens. I ran inside and was like the Boy who cried Wolf: ‘Lola, your chicken got out and the dogs are trying to kill them!’. Everyone was sceptical at first and didn’t believe me but when one of the house helpers went outside and shouted: ‘The chickens are flying away, come and help!’. Everyone rushed outside and I stood there thinking: ‘I tried to tell you’. They spent 30 minutes trying to round up the chickens and protect them from the dogs who didn’t appreciate their nap being interrupted. I was meanwhile watching all of this happen and crackling with laughter as they figure out what happened. Those chicken can definitely take flight but after that incident, they were cooped in for days.
Until this day, no one was still sure what happened lol and of course, they didn’t suspect it was me (well if someone I know reads this they might know now so I apologise in advance #sorrynotsorry).
My first boyfriend and I met in high school because we were in the same form group. I personally didn’t know anything about dating and wasn’t looking for a boyfriend but being a naive 13-year-old girl what was I supposed to know. We dated for 6 months and were on and off for another 3 years. One day I asked him when was the first time he knew he liked me and he replied: ‘When you were sat next to me.’ I must have looked confused so he continued: ‘When we were in our form room we had to sit next to each other and I told you that my parents were separated.’ I nodded at him, pretended I knew and we went off with our relationship. I was reflecting on it one night and the moment he told me about started to replay in my mind.
We had to sit alphabetically for our form group and I was sat next to this guy. We didn’t really talk (because I was immature and thought boys have cooties or something lol). Anyways, I was shy and didn’t feel the need to talk to someone I will only see in the mornings and the occasional classes. I remember he would laugh at what I said and try to make conversation, but I would just nod or dismiss him with an exaggerated ‘Okay’ or shrug. It was protocol to check all our details such as address and phone numbers so the school could store the information in the database. I was handing mine in and he suddenly leaned over and pointed out that my parents live at the same address. I did my exaggerated okay then he pointed out that his parents were divorced and that’s why they had different addresses. I didn’t really care and didn’t think out it until I asked him when he first liked me. It was so weird remembering that moment back then and right now. I didn’t realise that boys have such good memories (especially on things that meant so much to them) and as a young girl who thought she was in love that was a sweet realisation. If only boys would grow up and stay this why instead of being jerks. He was my first boyfriend so I find it natural to keep coming back to him and I am warning you now the stories I have about him are to gag for.
When I still lived in the Philippines, we lived in a house with my Lola (granny) and my Tita (Aunt) and the house helpers. Me and my sister, Vanessa used to have a room full of toys. Dolls, cars, a kite, Legos and all those tiny things that my Tita wanted to throw away but we secretly hid. But the toy we loved playing with the most was a waving lucky cat sat on the top shelf on the mantlepiece.
Vanessa and I would climb the large sofa and balance on the top, on our tiptoes watching the lucky cat wave one arm. We would hold onto it and see what would happen if the cat couldn’t wave anymore (clearly, we were devil children lol). Anyways long story short, after 4 months of torture the arm broke off and no amount of tape or hot glue can fix it. That’s where the Lucky Waving Cat 2.0 came a month later. We didn’t touch it again (because we were scared on being told off) but there was always something special I found when I see those waving cats in shop windows or in other people’s homes. I’m not superstitious or anything but a part of me wanted to believe that those cats really brought you good luck cause damn I could use some dusting of luck now and again!