Archive for September, 2006

I wish I was a little bit taller…I wish I was a baller…

Friday, September 22nd, 2006

Person 1: Sino si Sorsi?

Person 2: Yung maliit.

Person 1: Ahhh yun! Kilala ko na yun!

Person I was talking to on the phone: So ano totoong height mo?

Me: 4’8”

Person on phone: HA?!? May tao bang ganon???

Another person: Ano height mo?

Me: 4’8”

Person: Ay, eh di walang nanliligaw sayo?

Me: I’m 4’8”

People: Ows? Talaga? Imposible!

Yes, it’s true. I’m only 4’8”….unless the measuring system in our school is flawed. Every year, our school nurse would record our measurements and I have been 4’8” since 7th grade (actually, one time in high school, she measured it at 4’7”. something but decided to mark it as 4’8” anyway because I was about to cry.).

In school, I have always been one of the first girls in line. The only way I can be seated at the back of the classroom is when we’re seated alphabetically.

When I graduated, I was given an award for the yearbook….for being the smallest girl in the batch! 

One time when I was in high school (our high school uniform is different from the grade school uniform), I was walking along the corridors of the grade 1 classrooms. A grade 1 student (who I didn’t know at all) approached me and said, “High school ka na?” I said, “oo”. She said, “Eh bakit ang liit mo?”

Since I liked joking around in school, I would harass the younger girls by making non-stop hirits. I’ve actually made a few girls cry because I made them kulit too much. A few years later, I had a tap on the back. When I turned around, I looked up at a tall girl looking down on me. She said, “Di mo nako kilala? Ako yung pinaiyak mo dati!”…uh-oh!=P

In college, I had friends who would put my arnis sticks at the very top of the lockers when the bell rings and enjoy the sight of me jumping up and down to reach them.

In the family, my cousins have made me their benchmark. They would measure themselves against me as they grow up. Once they’ve gotten even just a bit taller than me, they will rejoice. “Yey! Mas matangkad nako kay Cathy!”. It has gone on for 13 cousins now…and I bet my nephews will do the same.

During my sister’s wedding, I was seated with my baby cousins (grade schoolers). One of them said, “Why are you not married yet?”, I said, “I don’t even have a boyfriend yet.” “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? Is it because you’re so small? Maybe you should drink Cherifer so that you will grow taller…and then the boys will see you…and then you will have a boyfriend…so that you’ll get married!” (so the problem pala is that boys don’t see me!) These are the same cousins who told me to dress as an Oompa Loompa for Halloween.

Excuse me my dear cousins but I’ve had boyfriends even if I’m this short. Yun nga lang, they looked like pedophiles having me in their arms=P I was always more than a ruler shorter than they were…and when they hug me, my head hits nothing but chest.

On MRT’s, my head is always on the same level as every construction worker’s armpit. In crowded places, my head always gets hit by people’s bags.                                                                                                                           

It’s really not my fault I was born short…my mom was only 4’11” or so. She didn’t let me take those Chinese growth balls for some reason. Growee and Cherifer were unheard of when I was young. I’ve tried jumping on New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day and Chinese New Year! I’ve tried jumping over people, from high tables and from stairs! Still, I’m 4’8”.

Yes, I have wished to be taller. Sometimes I’d pray, ‘sige na Lord, kahit isang inch lang…please…”                                                                                                                  

But I guess there are advantages to being short too….like…ummm…you get to pass for the kiddie buffet at Las Vegas and pay cheaper, you look younger, people help you around a lot, you’re always in front of production numbers, you always get to be on top of the pyramids, etc.  

I always liked the short basketball players who are good on the court like LA Tenorio or short people who become powerful like Marcos and GMA or great like Jose Rizal=) I know that we, the short people, have a big capacity/potential to be great…because we’ve had to work harder for things since we were young. We’ve had to work harder to reach that cookie jar on top of the cupboard…we’ve had to work harder to catch someone’s attention…we’ve had to work harder not to get our panties wet while walking from the shore to the waiting ’sundo’ boat in Boracay (I always end up being the only one in our group who has to be carried by the porters=P), we’ve had to work harder to grab the last piece of chocolate first … etc.=) And so, we become tougher (even when a number of her cabinet members bailed on her and with impeachment complaints here and there, GMA..undeterred…still remains in power)we learn to fight back in other ways (If Jose Rizal were big and macho, he might have used the sword instead of the pen)we learn to use our ‘disadvantage’ to our advantage (because he is short, LA easily slips through other taller players)…yan ang mga bagong bayani…ang mga pandak! BOW!

 

                                                                                                                                 

Farquad I’m taller than Farquaad!                      

                                                            

Americans Why I can never have an American boyfriend.

                                                                                                                                 

Nick2 Short people being used as patungan…

Nick_2

Jekbroom Short people are sometimes bullied too…

Jekpunch Short people have very little ‘fighting’ chance….

Checo_wedding_4bmp Short people should not stay in the middle of tall friends…

Dance_2 No, I’m not the same age as these Americans in the picture. I was 22 when this picture was taken…these girls (and the fag at the back) were high school and middle school students. (If you’re thinking..what is Sorsi doing at 22 with a bunch of high school girls dancing in a halloween kiddie talent show???…well, let’s just say i was bored in the states…=)

What’s In A Name

Monday, September 11th, 2006

A conio girl from school: “So why is your name Sorsi? Is it short for Sorsogon?”

Me: Ah yah…kasi I was born in Sorsogon so my mom named me Sorsogon Soriano.

My remedial class math teacher (I failed math in 2nd yr hs): Catherine!

Me: Ma’am, Sorsi nalang po.

Teacher: Ano?

Me: SORSI

Teacher: O sige, Horsy, halika dito.

Me: Ma’am, SORSI po!

Teacher: Ay Diyos ko, kaya kayo bumabagsak eh, kung anu-ano kasi mga pangalan niyo!

Another teacher: Pepsi, ikaw na sumagot sa blackboard.

A teacher in Ateneo: Wow, Sorsi Soriano….parang pang boldstar!

Sev Sarmienta, who became my thesis adviser, didn’t bother with ‘Sorsi’ anymore and just called me “Dwendita”.

American boss: So what do I call you Catherine?

Me: Sorsi

American boss: What?

Me: Sorsi

American boss: I’m gonna call you KitKat.

Starbucks variations of my name:

Sarsi

Farsi

Darcy

Sorcie

Dorothy

My friend: That’s my friend, Sorsi.

British guy (with British accent): So her name is So-si?

My friend: Yup.

British guy: Hmmm….So-si….Do you know that so-si means “kinky”?

When I was working in Summit, there was a guy we called Brownie who brought us packed lunches. He would write our names on the styro containers depending on our orders in the morning and deliver them by lunch break. After a few months of working there, I suddenly noticed that the name written on my styro was not SORSI. Brownie apparently did not catch my name and was too shy to ask. What he writes on my styro to remember to deliver it to me is "Liit".

Guy over the phone: SARSI? Like the softdrink?

Me: Yes but with an “O”

Guy: SARSO??

Stay With Your Parents and Hoard Your Money!

Monday, September 11th, 2006

People think that I’m living the life because I’m living on my own. But really, it’s not as fun and easy as everyone thinks. Yes, there are perks to living alone like…I can eat, sleep, watch tv whenever I want and for as long as I want….I can walk around naked and get air dried after my shower….I don’t have to lock, or even close, the bathroom door….I can do my Carmen Electra Striptease Aerobics without anyone heckling…I can go home at 4am and no one will yell at me, I can decorate my place any way I want (I used to NOT be able to decorate my own space at home because my sister thinks I’m baduy=P Now I have my monkey collection, Batista posters, Ateneo paraphernalia and photos on display=P), I can dance like an idiot and sing outside the shower without anyone seeing me, etc.

But what people don’t see is that sometimes I get panic attacks…when I don’t know where I’ll get the money to pay for my rent or bills. I also worry because I know there’s no one to make me ‘salo’ if something bad happens. People don’t know that when I get sick (which, thank God, doesn’t happen often), I have no one to bring me food or water or give me medicine. I have to take care of myself. I also have to rely on self-medication because I usually don’t have money to go to the doctor. Sometimes I have nothing to eat and the smell of my neighbor’s cooking makes me suuuuper hungry that I’d have to keep myself from knocking on their doors and asking to be fed=P. When I get scared for some reason, I don’t have anyone to keep me company. And as some people may know, I get really bad nightmares sometimes (Thank God it hasn’t happened much recently)…to the point that I have a hard time breathing or get ‘bangungot’…and there’s no one there to comfort me. Once, the thought that I could die in my sleep and no one would even know I’m dead until my body starts to stink crossed my mind and bugged me for a while. I’ve been living with no cable tv, no landline and a broken toilet for a year now. I have no money saved up in the bank because every cent goes to my living expenses…and note that I haven’t gone shopping in a while and I just have a few pairs of shoes I can use. I wash dishes, take out the garbage, iron my clothes, cook my food, clean up my mess (well, I have manang Linda as well), do my groceries, kill insects, do repairs (I used my high heeled shoe as a hammer once) …all by myself.

So my advice is, STAY WITH YOUR PARENTS while they still let you and hoard all your money in a savings account! People are usually ungrateful of their parents and their living conditions. Like, some of my friends still have drivers and yaya’s (paid for by their parents), their credit cards or cellphone bills are still paid for by their parents, their food and gas and electricity at home are free, their parents pay for their non-stop schooling and collecting of diplomas, their parents pay for their gym or their clothes or their Brazilian waxing…and still get allowances! And what’s the setback?….oh, just a

12 midnight

curfew or a few sermons here and there. Wish I could have it that way for even just a week!

One of our big bosses, who made me tell him my life story, told me though, that although I may be deprived of certain things compared to my rich friends, I am learning so much through my experiences and perhaps this is making me stronger and more ready to face certain things. Well…I don’t know what the world is preparing me for…a presidency? sainthood? world domination? 

I’d sure like to know.=)

Hungry Young Pwet

Thursday, September 7th, 2006

I went to my sister’s house last weekend to see my baby nephew and eat dinner there. Since it was a Sunday, they were having dinner at her mother-in-law’s house and I was kapal-muka enough to tag along since I’ve done so many times already. As I was finishing off the shrimp and sinigang, I noticed my sister’s mother-in-law looking at me. Then she said, “Buti di ka tumataba masyado ano? Kahit malakas ka kumain.” And that’s when I realized I was eating like I hadn’t eaten in weeks! It’s so embarrassing because everyone in my brother-in-law’s family already think I’m super duper matakaw (I spend New Year’s with them and they always notice how many times I go back to the buffet table). Last New Year, I remember my sister asking my bro-in-law’s cousin, “Have you met my sister Cathy?”, to which the guy replied, “Ah oo, siya yung matakaw.”

The truth is, I’m really NOT that matakaw! It’s just that…a.) I eat very slow…so people think I’m eating a lot when in reality, I’m just eating as much as they are but taking longer, and b.) It’s because I don’t get to eat REAL food! So every time I get to eat out (especially if it’s free), I really get so takam with the food. I mean, imagine, on regular days, I only eat either fastfood or MY cooking…and if you read my blog entries then you know how my cooking is.

To illustrate my condition further, I took some snapshots of my place last night…

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My closet. (full)                                                                                                                                                             

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My hamper. (full)    

                                                                                                                                                            

Dsc00076                                                                                                      

My DVD box. (full)                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                                                                                 

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My refrigerator=P (empty)

The actual contents of which are: 1 egg, spreadable butter, normal butter, garlic, a packet of mayo, a jar of expired mayo (dunno why I have so much mayo), a jar of expired cheese spread, a love letter (I don’t know why I have a love letter inside the ref..I think it came with chocolates kasi=P), bottles of water, a cup, some delicacy from Bacolod that I haven’t touched….and that’s it=P

                                                                                                                                                                           

            

Dsc00081My kitchen cupboard. (empty)

The contents of which are: 1 Baygon cockroach killer, 1 can of sardines (which I had bought for my cat ages ago), Maggi pork cubes, and some unused plastic bowls.

                  

                                                                                                                

                                       

No wonder I’m starving, right?!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Maneaters and Boybeaters Get the Perfect Boyfriends!

Monday, September 4th, 2006

“She’s a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want all of her love.”

Why is it that there seems to be this universal law that all the bitchy girls should end up with all the good guys? I have seen this A LOT. The bitchiest girls get the cute, mabait, and RICH guys! While the good girls end up with the jerks and scumbags! The reverse, of course, then follows. The guys who are perfect boyfriends get the ingrate girls who treat them like their personal slaves and the bad boys get the demure, saintly girls who won’t even have a clue that they’re two-timing! And it’s not just me who has noticed this weird phenomenon. A lot of my girl friends have also mused about this imbalance in the relationship world.

If you are a good boy, for example, you most probably:

- carry your girl’s shopping bags and (gulp!) hand bag when you go out.

- lose every argument with your girl…that is, if you are even allowed to make an argument. You probably just shut up anyway, knowing that she is ALWAYS right.

- have gotten bitch-slapped by your girl at least once.

- scrimp on yourself starve during lunch break to be able to afford the expensive steak your gal is gonna order on your date and the gas for picking her up everyday from work.

- have military-type response time when given orders by Miss Boss.

If you’re a good girl, I bet that you:

-have been cheated on.

-are usually ignored or taken for granted by your boyfriend.

-pay for some of your dates.

-get honked at when being picked up at home.

-(in really bad cases) have been bitch-slapped by your boyfriend. (In which case, you should leave, girl! The only acceptable slapping from your guy should be some good butt-spanking once in a while=P)

If you’re Mr. Bad Boy, you most probably:

- cheat on your girl…and cheat on your girl #2 as well…

- go on boys nights out and have alone-time anytime you want, without having to make ‘paalam’

- get loads of hot sex, regardless of whether you get it from your real girlfriend or not.

- get picked up once in a while (or all the time!) by your girl.

- treat your girl like your PA…”paki kuha nga yung yosi ko”, “abot mo nga cellphone ko”, “paki kamot nga likod ko”….

If you’re a hard core BITCH…or say, a bratty girlfriend, I bet that you:

- can bitch-slap your guy and he’d still worship the ground you walk on.

- get flowers, chocolates, bears….all the cliché gifts!

- never had problems getting dates

- have your way all the time!

- never have to take out your wallet on dates.

- have ‘PMS’ every single day and your guy can’t complain!

So why do the perfect boyfriends get attracted to the bitches? Are they just masochistic or something? Does this mean we should all turn prima donna to get the nice guys? (Sa bagay, I’ve seen some good girl-good boy couples before and my golay! …they were BORING as hell. The bad boy-bad girl couples in the meantime just have some sort of ‘open relationship’ to justify the screwing around=P)

Another thing I’ve noticed is that the rich boy-poor girl plot is no longer uso. Nowadays, the rich guys end up with rich girls. The rich are getting equally rich partners! HEY, DON’T BE GREEDY! SHARE THE WEALTH! The rich boys should get the destitute girls and the rich girls should get the men who can’t provide! The key word here is BALANCE!

PS. Do not take this blog entry seriously. It is a hyperbolic, bitter (??) foray into the current relationship scene and my exclusion from the said ‘scene’=P