I’m eating my second pancake topped with margarine and sugar while writing this.’I finished answering my emails and am basically about to start my bloghopping when I decided to create my calendar of acativities. I will imitate my bestfriend’s style and upload it on my sidebar so I can see it often and make it come true.
Let me see…our fiesta will be on August 28. The feast of St. Augustine. We have a lot of activities lined up here in the City of Golden Friendship. Too many activites, I think.
I look forward to this weekend. It’s a horseback riding contest and my step-sister’s daughter is a contestant. I remember the last time I rode a horse. Wait, make it a pony. I was scared at first and then I eventually liked it way too much that I wanted to gallop but of course when I started to trot and lose control of the pony, I got scared again. It was in Tagaytay, at one of those ponies you can ride for a fee. It was such a long time ago. I was with my bestfriend Jen and her husband Peter. This is me during my pony ride!
I can’t wait to see all the horses this weekend. This picture also now made me want to add a new goal in life. Bring my baby to Tagaytay and have his/her picture taken there with a pony. 
Speaking of mothers and goals in life, I now realize that my mother’s goal in my life is to make me miserable. My father has been complaining about my hair for quite sometime now. He keeps saying that it’s too long and I should cut it before it gets tangled with an electric fan or door or whatever. After much haggling, I agreed to cut two inches only.
Now my mother called and is now demanding I cut 7 to 8 inches of my hair or else she won’t come here to be with me upon my delivery. Is she mean or what? I told her I would cut two inches this month, then an inch next month and another inch on October. I hope she agrees to my compromise. Besides, my doctor didn’t complain about my hair given that it obviously has no bearing on my pregnancy. My parents kept on using the excuse that my baby is not getting enough nutrients because I have long hair. Total bull.
Anyway, I stand my ground on this matter. Seriously, I don’t see why they make such a fuss on my hair. If it’s not my hair, it’s what I eat or wear or where I go or what I do…Ugh!
I end here with a sobering thought that it would be ironic if I turn out to be just like my parents and my baby will soon write in his or her blog the exact words I wrote above. Damn.
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