Coasting

My newfound friend and editor from Indiana emailed a week ago asking for my next blog and I am at a loss if I should wax poetic about Singapore’s anal tendencies, or review Tom Cruise’s escapade at Zhou Zyang village near Shanghai in his last MI-3 movie. What would you guys want me to talk about? Let me know. My deadline’s due.

I am preoccupied by conservation, wannabe green girl that I am. Had I been a baby boomer – I would have fit in perfectly with Jeff’s San Francisco and Santa Cruz crowd – the latter somehow fascinating to an ex-IT disciple whose beginnings in the industry tied in with the advent of SCO Unix and other Silicon Valley fads. At the rate I am unraveling my career direction, I am just so happy that I have an anal elder sister, so I can go my merry way and unravel, into what I have yet to know. Discounting her generosity, there’s always the option to shack up in the North with other relatives who would simply shake their heads at my pothead sensibilities but let me be me, nonetheless.

I am a month into my nursing – discounted by one friend in Manila as too bourgeois for Ateneans like us. Now, this only adds to my confusion – Ateneans are just as obsessed with money, ergo, I am obsessed with money. Being obsessed with money is a proletarian occupation – entonces – Ateneans are just as bourgeois as the next La Sallite. This train of thought is making me nervous – I don’t wanna lose my Blue Eagle card. Nor do I want to incur the ire of noteworthy Lasallites like Mari.

At any rate, I always thought my fellow Ateneans are sometimes full of shit if not geeky so I always dated guys from the other camp. I didn’t have to think so hard between mouthfuls of tacos and gulps from a pitcher of Zombie at Tia Maria’s.