what do whiskey sours taste like?

I was reading this fantastic article entitled “How To Drink Like Your Favorite Author” when, as expected, my mind wandered, though still tenuously tied to the original topic. Of course, I was thinking about how badass all of these authors were, but true to form, I steered my thoughts toward myself. I started thinking about fame. More specifically, about fame on the Internet, since that seems to be where all my efforts are focused at the moment.

Clearly, I am not an authority on fame. But I have been following several people’s trajectory toward fame on websites such as tumblr, YouTube, and general blogging sites, and I have a few thoughts.

The first step is establishing a presence. Before I started blogging, I had never written anything online before, at least not without trepidation. I rarely updated my Facebook status, never commented on any articles or videos, and used my Twitter account purely as a spectator, until I eventually deleted it after deeming it useless. But I came to terms with the fact that if I want my work to reach people, then I have to have a following. And to have a following, I have to produce some sort of content. And to have content, I have to do something. So I got over myself and started writing. But I still don’t leave very many comments, because Internet commenters can be viciously cruel towards each other. But I encourage you to comment here! I am nice and I want to hear what you have to say.

After establishing a presence, I’ve found that consistency is the key. The most successful people on the Internet crack out content daily, if not even more frequently. I used to be better at this step, but during the summer, not much happens to me, so I don’t have very many topics to discuss.

The linchpin of fame is ??? I really have no idea. Something about amassing a readership and hoping your content spreads like a cat video. I haven’t quite figured this step out yet, but I think it has to do with marketing? I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of this, seeing as my followers are primarily members of my family (who follow because they love me and are nice people).

Ah yes, and there’s the small qualification of actually being talented. I’ll let you know how that bit goes.

After all this contemplation, I have to wonder, what will people have to drink in order to drink like me, assuming that someday I may become someone’s favorite author? I guess it would have to be a White Russian, or, you know, a San Pellegrino. I can be a badass too.

sleep is for the weak. or, you know, the healthy.

A conversation I had this morning with one of my favorite cousins reminded me that I have been neglecting this medium recently. Also, it makes me really happy when people don’t act surprised when they find out that I am capable of stringing words together to form coherent sentences. But that topic may be explored at a later time.

What I do want to focus on today is the neglect part of the above paragraph. I know how clichéd it is for a blogger to come back from a hiatus, mouth running with the typical “ehmagawd I’m soooo sorry but I’ve been like super busy and stuff and I was sick but I’m here now and I’m gonna be better than ever” then cease to blog, thus creating the endless cycle.

But I swear to you, I have been very busy. And I am now sick. And the previous paragraph will provide enough motivation for me to keep writing, because I am too damn proud for my own good.

Now that my disclaimer is out of the way, on with story time.

It is no secret that I am a hypochondriac. I suppose a weak immune system lends itself nicely to this little quirk of mine, as it results in minor, yet frequent ailments that feed my neuroses. The times when I find myself between ailments, I become hyperparanoid that anything out of the ordinary may or may not be the first symptom of my next ailment (never mind the fact that it is difficult to gauge what is ordinary when one is so often sick. I like to think of it as feeling nothing). And, no, self-awareness does not “cure” hypochondria. At least, not according to my personal experience, nor to the online search I just did on my phone.

So when I do actually become ill with more than the common cold, my paranoia takes on some very strange characteristics. Firstly, it is smug in that it is proven correct, even though it means that I am, in fact, sick. Secondly, and perhaps more logically, it is magnified at least tenfold.

Either in Manila or on the plane leaving Manila or from one of the airports, I managed to contract the stomach flu. I hate talking about the stomach flu, mostly because when people hear that I have it, they imagine me in a most unflattering way. But, as I am a mature adult grown-up, I will move past it. I am sick, and have been since Sunday. It happens to everyone.

Once it was established that I was so stricken, I began to freak out. I found myself wondering whether there were dietary rules that I was breaking because I was unaware of their existence, what the maximum distance between me and a restroom could be for an extended period of time, and what foods would be the least unpleasant coming up as going down.

Last night, during which I did not sleep at all, that anxiety contributed to my already weakened state. My only goal of the night was not to sully my sheets, so I focused all my energy on not moving my body, lest I upset either end. But quieting my movements did nothing to quiet my mind. I lay there, watching the sun gradually climb up my blinds like a ladder, mocking me with its cheery color. When I deemed it late enough (definitely before 7), I pawed pitifully at my mom’s bedroom door until she let me in. Once she left for work, I was finally able to feel the sweet release. No, not that kind. The sweet release of sleep.

Which is why I am posting this at about 6pm. I just woke up.

things i have discovered while trying to avoid work

Procrastination can yield a multitude of things. Overwhelming feelings of frustration, restlessness, and bouts of self-criticism. But rather than focus on my shortcomings (which I have been doing for like five hours now), I will instead use this as a learning experience. Here are valuable lessons I have taken from today.

I can tie my hair in a knot and it will stay. Since my hair’s so long now, I can wind it in a bun and tuck the end under. Also, it’s really soft. Conditioner was a good investment.

I rock at mahjong. It’s probably because I’m an old woman. Or because of the saying, “Lucky in cards, unlucky in love.” That was a downer.

Taping a piece of tissue paper sprayed with baby cologne on the air conditioner gives the whole room added freshness. Unfortunately, this freshness is not conducive to my productivity. It makes me

want to sit in my chair with my eyes closed and simply breathe.

My godfather makes really really yummy French fries (Filipino fries?). I ate an entire bowlful, washed down with Four Seasons juice. My life is so hard right now.

I was a super cute baby. Legit though. Watching baby videos of myself is such a weird experience. Maybe I’ll write about it in the future. I also now know what I looked like when I pooped. And what my creepy alien voice sounded like.

Making faces at people until they notice is really fun. It’s a skill I’d like to hone in years to come. I consider myself an amateur at this point in time, but I hope to advance to a professional level. Best. Job. Ever.