Caffeine Addict

I have been relying on caffeine lately to keep me up during the long hours of studying and cramming for exams and papers. I’ve spent a big part of my allowance for the ridiculously expensive coffee and blended drinks in coffee shops. The caffeine helps me stay up in the wee hours of the morning but causes palpitation in my part. I resolved to avoid drinking coffee or any other caffeinated drinks until the next time i really need it the most. 

I surfed the net for alternatives and brands that are worth trying. Illy is a brand of coffee produced in italy. They produce only one blend in three roasts: normail, dark roast or decaffeinated. The blend is packaged as beans,  pre-ground coffee or ESE pods. The beans are carefully selected from ARABICA beans which have low caffeine content than ROBUSTA beans. Their pressurization technique ensures that the rich taste of the beans will be preserved. 

Oh so long ago

I found my old diary recently and found this entry funny. Its about falling, stupidity and the realization that i can still pick myself up after a nasty fall.

May 29, 2008

I found myself praying and asking God to take away my ability to love other people and spare me from the emotional pain that I’m going through right now. I don’t deserve to get hurt like this. I have given and did everything I could, the best way I can, just to show HIM how much I love HIM.

I am still standing on the same ground, while he has learned to fly and let go. LIFE IS SO UNFAIR. I should be relieved that he’s already out of my life. I should be the one giving a sigh of relief because I’m finally free from the clutches of an INGRATE WHINER, who gets MAD if he DOESN’T GET WHAT HE WANTS.  But instead of being happy, I find his absence a burden. The thought of him is enough to break my heart all over again. Thinking of the past makes me cry before going to sleep, and the memory of him haunts me in my dreams.

2 months. That should be enough for me to move on. My father told me that it is even possible to move on 24 hours after the breakup; you should just put your mind and heart to it.

I have learned my lesson. It’s easier to let go than to hold on to somebody who can’t even realize your worth. I am a PRICELESS and FRAGILE treasure that should be taken care off. I am a woman who deserves respect and shouldn’t be yelled at for small mistakes and petty reasons. Recently, I realized that we are better off as friends. He’s BETTER AS A FRIEND THAN AS A LOVER. He doesn’t know how to value people who are willing to take care of him and tolerate his childish attitudes.

Love really does make you blind. As long as you’re in love with somebody, you tend to disregard his imperfections and even blame yourself for everything that goes wrong between you and that person. It’s stupid to love a person who doesn’t give back the love (or even half of it) that you give him. It’s dumb to sacrifice your happiness just to see him HAPPY.

Letting go and moving on made me realize that I can still find my happiness WITHOUT HIM. I used to yearn for his affection and I even pleaded for him to stay. Looking back, I realized I must’ve looked stupid crying and begging for something that is not even HALF of what I DESERVE.

Taboo

I learned this from National Geographic Channel (yes I’m a  National Geographic GEEK). I found it interesting and sort of wanted to share what i learned.

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Many discontented women undergo plastic surgery to enhance physical aspects of their bodies. From cup A, they can jump to cup C with silicon implants and enhancements. In the Western part of the world, BIGGER IS BETTER. In pursuit of a better body, they are willing to undergo painful surgeries just to look good.

On the other side of the world, natives modify their bodies differently according to their culture. In Bafut, Western Africa, it is a tradition for mothers and grandmothers to iron the budding breasts of their daughters during the early stage of puberty. Some children — as early as 10 years old, undergo the painful process to suppress the natural process of womanhood. Everyday, for several months, the breasts will be flattened out and massaged by an ordinary household item like ladles, pestle, or an ordinary wooden stick exposed to the fire and removed just before they start to ignite. This process may temporarily hinder the growth of the breasts for sometime, or in some cases… permanently.

Some people may find it taboo. Where did these mothers get the strength to hurt their own daughters? How did these young girls, barely their teenage years endure the painful process of breast ironing?

In Western Africa, women independence is practiced. Unwanted pregnancy and forced marriages bring shame to the girl’s family. The tradition of breast ironing (done in secret) prevents the unwanted attention of men. Some girls cry, some even runaway; but some feel like it’s a tradition that must continue.