My older brother posted this on my FB wall, along with a picture of me. *wipes tears* Best birthday greeting ever:
“Her name is Justine May,
A lovely lady which can brighten up everyone’s day,
Her jokes can break your jaw apart,
She is the second girl closest to my heart.
She is our beautiful princess,
Our foundation of success,
A pretty face with chubby cheeks,
And a feminine girl who can give your ass a few good kicks.
She is a unique woman among the rest,
And her passion and love for our family is relentless,
I am proud to say that she is my sister and that today is her day,
And this poem is created to greet her A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
-WE LOVE YOU SIS! mwah!
-wish you all the happiness in life…
-don’t worry sis, i got your back…”
Yes, I am blessed.
Lazy Me decided to write this blog entry in bulleted form because first, I’m lazy. Second, my brain pretty much dried up by the end of the trip (you’ll know why later on). Third, I’m afraid I’d overuse some words, phrases, and whatnot. Fourth, it’s easy to just spit out words and not explain [exactly like what I’m doing right now]. Fifth, there is no fifth. Blah blah blah :P
Here’s what you should know ‘bout our trip: we spent our weekend (August 7-9, ‘10) at Pantabangan, Nueva Ecija and at Castañeda, Nueva Vizcaya.
Spent time at Java Jazz, Tagaytay after our overnight affair with the beach (Kabayan Beach Resort, Batangas). Hun and I were with Ajia, Ate Camille, and Mommy Ine. We enjoyed our coffee, chips and fries, pan de sal, and our Uno session. ♥
When your boyfriend holds you like a baby and your mother hands you a hanky, they understand you’re in deep shit—that’s how you should know that they’d be there for you no matter how deep that crap is.
I could never just say those words out loud. Not because I’m ashamed. It’s ‘cause I might not be able to hold back my tears.
I love my parents. I’d protect them from every possible evil emotion if I could. But I couldn’t. The only thing I could do is to make them smile, hug them, and show them that I won’t do anything to hurt them. The thought of hurting them pains me. God knows how much I try to be a great daughter, a great person that my parents could be proud of. That’s the challenge I required myself to take. That challenge would only end once I take my final breath. Only then would I be able to tell if I’ve done enough to make my parents proud of me. But until then, I won’t quit giving my parents what they deserve—love, kisses, and everything in between.