Definitely, your maybe.

CONFESSION #6: BREAK YOUR LITTLE HEART

CONFESSION #6: BREAK YOUR LITTLE HEART

Whoever said that "Diamonds are a girl's bestfriends" haven't eaten a pizza yet.

Or is just plain rich.

I mean. Seriously dude, if you're gonna go and find something to be your bestfriend, it better be something not worth millions.

Never mind my lame attempt in emphasizing the importance of pizza what's important is that I am at Yellow Cab, ALONE , eating a slice of pepperoni and mushroom pizza.

That's soooo wrong.

I'm not just eating a slice, I actually ordered a whole pan and I'm pigging out on it while thinking of anything except Adrian.

I don't even know why I'm reacting this way. We don't even have a single connection.

Heck, he doesn't even know I exist.

To him, I'm just another frustrated fangirl vying for his attention. I admit he's got a pretty face, a gorgeous smile, a to-die-for voice and let's not forget his body- fit and not too muscular- but there's just something about him that makes me smile.

I guess its the songs he write.

His words have a way of communicating with me and *BAAAM* I'm caught or something.

Come to think of it, maybe its because of the fact that he is able to write the things I want my own 'Mr. Right' to say to me. Whatever it is, I shall now endeavour to stop thinking about him 'cause I need to move on from this little crush and focus on the more important aspects of life, like securing a job.

Yes.

A job- a money-supplying activity that will enable me to buy the things that I need and eat the food that I want or maybe I'll just continue eating this very nice pizza and watch the people around me 'cause let's face it: People watching is waaaaaay more interesting than getting a job.

So far, the only interesting thing I can see is the couple sitting at the table beside me who are acting too lovey dovey. Sorry to sound overly bitter but come on! Not everyone around is as blessed as them in the love and relationship department and we don't really want that fact slapped to our faces so often.

YUCK! I can even hear them kissing and its taking every ounce of my self discipline to not to shout 'CAN YOU PLEASE STOP THAT? IT SOUNDS GROSS!'

Then, there's this weird man who's been looking at me non-stop. He's alone, looks like he's in his early thirties and if you want my opinion, he definitely gives off the stalkerish vibe and I'm feeling creeped out so I'm gonna go now and save myself from this weirdo.

Of course, this wouldn't be your typical, cliched, teenage story if there wasn't a mean girl especially made to be the bane of my existence. Speaking of the devil, Ingrid is walking straight towards me.

'Well, hello there weirdo. All alone again aren't you? Why don't you get a job and spend your time doin something productive?', she said while giving me her signature evil smirk.

'Still the same person overflowing with kind words, huh, Ingrid? Don't worry. I'm sure whatever things I'm doing its bound to be more productive than what you do.'

'Whatever loser and what's that bracelet your wearing? Oh, I see. Code Red. You like them too? Well then, dream on girl! They will never look your way twice let alone notice you in a sea of girls, not with your horrendous get up. My dad's right to consider getting you as his PA though, you do look like one. Better expect him to contact you anytime soon.', she answered back.

'OOOOOH! At least I got considered for a job I didn't even apply for. How about you?', was my sarcastic retort.

'Atleast, I got the fashion sense you don't and never will have!!', after saying that, she then walked out on me.

That was Ingrid.

She looks and acts like she's perfect- pretty face, fit body, daddy's money, above average grades and sky-high popularity- but she's got one flaw: ME.

I can make her lose her temper in snap and bare her beautiful fangs which in turn makes me happy 'cause I'm reminded that she's human just like the rest of us and whaaaaaaaat the heck is wrong with what I'm wearing? How weird is it to find a girl wearing a denim mini, black worn out Chuck Taylor's and an ACCIDENT PRAWN shirt (complete with the picture of an injured shrimp using crutches lol). I think I look pretty much normal, a little bit on the sporty side, but still average by normal standards.

Yep. I'd rather wear chucks than 4-inch killer heels. My face is not full of make up and I opt to have my hair in a messy bun 24/7. I mainly watch CSI not Sex and the City and I eat like a starved person. Unlike those girls who are so scared of getting fat that they eat like birds and while I'm in the middle of this ranting rampage, let me also clear something: To the people wondering if ever Ingrid and I were bestfriends then the answer to that is a big fat NO. I can't even remember the day she first laid eyes on me and POOF (it became Koko Krunch), I was suddenly her all-time fave victim.

We've crossed each other's paths before, heck, even our parents our friends- they both work in the same building albeit in different companies. We've been classmates for the last four years in college and two of those years were spent on lowly banters and ignoring each others presence.

After all those years we've known each other, this is the first time that I felt really grateful to Ingrid: She actually managed to take my mind off Adrian and my broken heart, even if its just for a while.

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Hello! first update tonight. I'm gonna type the 7th confession after I publish this one. Sorry for the boring chapter. I'll try to make the next one very interesting.

Credits to The fb page of Fangirl Problems for the pic above and this confession's title. Check out their page. Its awesome. :)

Hope you guys comment and share your thoughts!