"IKR?"
"I don't think so, Evangeline!"
And if you ask me why? FIIK!"
One more book for my Goodreads goal while catching VTachs and FURs.
"Tran's coming!" Muffin warns me.
God, I love this place. Made it two years and hoping this place to be my last workplace. I have only Ayyeddis Vahkkenjaab of Scripps to thank for. I didn't want to die as a certified nursing assistant just like Bing. I guess I am lucky, thank God. Now I am thinking of my own burial arrangement. In case I die stupid like taking a self-portrait off a cliff at Mount San Jacinto or not bringing enough water while hiking El Cajon Peak.
I don't really care. Did I just want to disappear at Desolation Wilderness and be declared dead within a year? I never want to be declared dead at Facebook. I want to live forever at Facebook, just like Priscilla does. I still see her daily horoscope.
How stupid was I to expect to walk into a wake at Oceanside. I imagined a single story house and the coffin would be at the receiving room and two upright floor lamps both at the end of side of the coffin. Names of next of kin that include Vicki's, her husband's and her children's pinned on the satin lining of the coffin lid. I expect other visitors exclaiming that Vicki's sister seemed to look like she's just sleeping.
Shame on me for thinking that the best practices of Filipinos paying respects to the dead would be alive in America.
FIIK!
Did I wish to be cremated or be interred in a cemetery after an elaborate memorial service eulogized by a Catholic priest? Karl will be playing a rendition of Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World on flute and Georgia will tell how good a social worker I was at one time in the Philippines inspiring her to pursue her MSW program in Washington state.
FIIK!
Sybilla Flanagan didn't really die hiking Desolation Wilderness. She faked her own death and moved on to Denmark. I don't know why the main character's name reminds me of a part of the female genital. I found the book on OverDrive.
"I don't think so, Evangeline!"
And if you ask me why? FIIK!"
"Tran's coming!" Muffin warns me.
God, I love this place. Made it two years and hoping this place to be my last workplace. I have only Ayyeddis Vahkkenjaab of Scripps to thank for. I didn't want to die as a certified nursing assistant just like Bing. I guess I am lucky, thank God. Now I am thinking of my own burial arrangement. In case I die stupid like taking a self-portrait off a cliff at Mount San Jacinto or not bringing enough water while hiking El Cajon Peak.
I don't really care. Did I just want to disappear at Desolation Wilderness and be declared dead within a year? I never want to be declared dead at Facebook. I want to live forever at Facebook, just like Priscilla does. I still see her daily horoscope.
How stupid was I to expect to walk into a wake at Oceanside. I imagined a single story house and the coffin would be at the receiving room and two upright floor lamps both at the end of side of the coffin. Names of next of kin that include Vicki's, her husband's and her children's pinned on the satin lining of the coffin lid. I expect other visitors exclaiming that Vicki's sister seemed to look like she's just sleeping.
Shame on me for thinking that the best practices of Filipinos paying respects to the dead would be alive in America.
FIIK!
Did I wish to be cremated or be interred in a cemetery after an elaborate memorial service eulogized by a Catholic priest? Karl will be playing a rendition of Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World on flute and Georgia will tell how good a social worker I was at one time in the Philippines inspiring her to pursue her MSW program in Washington state.
FIIK!
Sybilla Flanagan didn't really die hiking Desolation Wilderness. She faked her own death and moved on to Denmark. I don't know why the main character's name reminds me of a part of the female genital. I found the book on OverDrive.
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