First. Books. I love to read. It was my cousin, Ate Mater, who introduced me to books. Ever since I was a kid, she never got exhausted of buying me books every Christmas and when it’s my birthday (I owe you this, Ate). It has become this passion for me. I actually do have quite a library (or a collection, if you may) at home. I usually go for specific authors (check my profile). When I read a book and I love how it was written I would go ahead and scour the far ends of…Metro Manila (ahaha) to look for other titles from the same author. I am O.C. that way, I think.
Second. Pen and paper. I am not sure if it follows but I love to write because I love to read. (okay, at this point I think I am starting to become an uninterestingly unexciting person). I always take a poetry notebook with me. I love the fact that when a good idea strikes me, I always have my pen and notebook handy. Pencil is also an option. I suppose this is my way of making sure that I do not miss out on anything. I have a sharp memory. It’s both my blessing and my curse. I am one of those people who would remember things from a decade or two ago you did not think you told me about. (My friends know this ~ so beware!!! Nyahahaha). By the way, I still keep a journal. Memory is everything you have not forgotten.
Third. Coffee. I cannot live without coffee. It has become part of my daily rituals. I drink maybe five to six cups of coffee a day. I think I drink coffee too much ~ to the extent that I am immune to it and to the point that I feel like I have so much blood in my coffee system. I would gulp down any kind of coffee…cold coffee (as in the traditional Nescafe, sugar and cold water straight from the fridge combination) , hot coffee, scalding coffee, instant coffee, 3-in-1 coffee, black coffee, coffee ice cream, coffee beans (kidding). I think I drink coffee to much that my birthday has become a national holiday in Brazil. 
Fourth. I am a chocoholic. I am a self-confessed chocolate addict and I am proud of it. Again, I am not claiming that this is true for everyone but eating chocolate calms my nerves, and for the most part, somehow, gets me out of any unsettling feeling (depression, irritation, blah blah blah). Most of the people I know are a little ‘scared’ of eating too much chocolate, because of well, the sugar (and ultimately the calories). When I eat chocolate, I only am afraid of one thing that might happen ~ zits on my face the next morning.
Fifth. Antihistamine. Love antihistamines. Any brand would do. You see I am born with this peculiar condition (aren’t we all born with one). I am allergic to shellfish. That includes clams, oysters, mussels and my best friend ~ shrimps. You name it. The whole nine yards. I am allergic to the kind of food that a lot of people, including my sister, proclaim to induce extraordinary salivation. I think it is delicious. All I could do now is think of what it is like to eat them when I see them. I do not remember how they taste anymore. When I have allergies, my eyes get red, I have big, red patches all over my body. And I am not saying two, three, four patches. I am talking about patches that would resemble the Indonesian archipelago. Or any archipelago for that matter. My hives are archipelagic. Wahahaha. Apart from shellfish I am also allergic to cats. My best friend Jerlen has nine or ten cats at home. I never was able to go to her house. Before I could do that I need to secure myself a bio-hazard suit. And one more thing…when the weather is too hot or too cold, I get allergies. That simply means that our weather is perfect for inducing allergies (for me, at least). One of the more relieving side effects of antihistamines is that it sedates the one who takes it. I am not sure if any of you guys are curious to see me in my sloth-like state, speech-impaired and all that. Antihistamine is my version of the happy pill. 
Sixth. This happened about two days ago. When I am at work, every so often I would go to the washroom to…wash my face (now I know it’s not really a healthy habit, but I cannot seem to control myself). I reached for the faucet and splashed my face with water ~ this is my ridiculous attempt to wake myself up. You see I work weird hours. Really weird hours that I ‘had’ to let go of my social life. I have turned into an incredibly dreary person because of this. Great. Now I am blaming my powerlessness to mingle with other people to my job. Going back…washing my face is one of the things I resort to when I need to keep myself awake. That is ~ aside from coffee, caffeine tablets, and the occasional energy drinking spree. So my face was soaking and all that. And I noticed something. No sight of paper tissue. I checked all the six stalls and all the tissue receptacles were empty. I went to the washroom on the third floor and my search ended tragically. Still no paper tissue within reach. I went back to the second floor and looked at the mirror. My face was dripping. I looked around to check if I have other options and saw the hand dryer. And of course I knew that sticking my face there should never be entertained. I cannot live without paper tissue. I don’t suppose women can exist in this universe without it. I ended up using my shirt (good thing it was black and very absorbent). 
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