today is officially my day for screwing up.

*errata: Yesterday, I posted that my former blogdom was "lost in oblivion" and it triggered memories of a film I saw a long time ago (which I absolutely enjoyed) starring one of my favorite actors, Steve Buscemi. Nyek. It was Living in Oblivion pala. I seem to have a knack for making (duh) stupid mistakes. Take note of the following, for example:

On losing a round in Mummy Maze: Oh, no! I'm DIED!
On talking about a dead celebrity: She's DIED. (sense a pattern here?)
On debating with my brother about the Filipino word for thunder: Hel-lo. Thunder is KALOG. Ugh. (The REAL word being KULOG. Kalog means fun or wacky or something.)

Yeah. I'm an idiot.

But seriously, I actually think I write pretty well. I mean, I was actually offered a teaching position in my high school for (get this) GRAMMAR. I turned it down because I wanted to teach Lit. And I write, fer cryin' out loud!!! Hmmmm... William would be very disappointed. (Yeah, yeah. Shakespeare.)

So, anyway, as the title of this post says... THIS IS OFFICIALLY MY DAY FOR SCREWING UP. Uh-huh. Mom was pretty disappointed with my over-spending. I can just imagine the look on my Dad's face when he hears about his "responsible little girl" pulling a PJ. (My bratty brother is usually the one giving my parents headaches - especially when it comes to his spending habits.) But, really, can they blame me if I kept spending? I was depressed. Or feeling VERY, VERY BAD at the very least. (It's a shopaholic's mantra, I tell you. There's no excuse for overspending.) Besides,I've been good. I've been behaving.

I'm honestly so tired of all these excuses. It's part of my constant struggle to be "the perfect daughter." You know, the one you can bring home to the folks because she's well-mannered, has breeding, is cultured, smart... etc. etc. Sometimes the pressure's so great I can't take it. I remember one time, when my blockmates and I decided to go all-out drunk one week before hell-week at Puffy's house, I was labeled "the sad drunk." There were 3 of us. The happy drunk, the sleepy drunk, and the sad drunk. And you wanna know what the heck I was crying about?! "I'M NOT PERFECT. WAAAH!!!" Boy, that must've driven Puffy nuts. Why? Why do I do this? Am I making up for all my brother's stupid mistakes? No, I may not have graduated with honors (that's AC for you) but at least I didn't get pregnant. I've been good. No drugs. No sex (okay... maybe this one I'm regretting :P). No embarrasing "Pick me up at the Police Station, please." Well, maybe just once. And it wasn't my fault. I'm responsible. Really, I am. I WANT to make my parents happy, even if I'm not malambing to them I DO love them. I want to give them something to be proud about. I guess this is why I cried when I missed graduating with honors from college by point-something. I didn't cry because I didn't get it. I cried because I couldn't give my dad the opportunity to pin the medal on me.

I miss my Dad...

On the less prone-to-visit-the-shrink side, I did screw up at work as well. Gave some bratty patient a reason to bitch at the staff. My fault completely. I'm going to send her Acne Spot Treatment stick so we never have to Kenacort her again. Otherwise, I'll poke her with the stupid needle myself to stop her sappy whining. Blecch.