sad? call me.

of course, the obvious question to ask at this point is:

"is she going to wait for 2014 before she blogs again?"

(meanwhile, the obvious question in terms of rock star:inxs is: "is marty casey unbelievable or what?")

there is a reason for not blogging. actually, there are a number of reasons.

1. i am queen busy. (get it? queen BEE-zy? hwe hwe hwe ... ok, calm down. no need to get violent.)
2. i am queen lazy.
3. (most important reason) i have been trying to find a cure for global sadness.

and now, i would like to announce that i've done it. i have the solution to every depressive episode in the world.

three words: driver's license picture.

in an attempt to justify the horror that is my picture, i would like to point out that NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE TWO PICTURE-TAKING SESSIONS. so there i was, ready for the first (and i thought 'only') picture. i had blotted out all the extra oil from my face, made sure my hair was in place, thought happy thoughts and gave a subdued-but-pleasantly-content-with-life smile for the digital camera.

after my pic was taken, i wore a headband – it was just after lunch on a hot hot hot day – and waited for the license with all the other drivers, not caring about the amount of perspiration that had begun to leak out of my ultra-open pores.

and then they called my name. again. for a second picture.

all logic flew out the window and i removed my headband in a hurry, thinking that i looked better without hair accessories. if there's anything i regret most in my life, this decision would have to be it. it completely beats 'entering med school' and 'eating an entire (smallish) ball of gouda 5 minutes before sleeping' (a recent impulse – don't ask) hands down.

when i finally got the laminated card, i had to pinch my nose so i wouldn't explode in laughter. happiness is not appreciated in philippine government offices, if you haven't noticed. so i held my nose for about a block, walking towards my sister, who was waiting inside our parked car. complete strangers were running away from me, thinking i was holding my nose because i stank.

to put it kindly, i looked like a convicted felon in the &#!%^$#% picture. my hair was all over the place, i was sweaty, and i had a sullen look, the kind of look foreign celebrities have when they are taken in for driving under the influence. 'assault victim' also comes to mind. or maybe 'meth addict'. your choice. any would be apt.

i have a reputation for having the worst expression in pictures, but this is insane. more accurately, i LOOKED insane.

i'd like to blame the guy who was handling the camera. i'd like to, but did he really care that i needed to bear with the hellish picture for 3 years (when my card expires)? did he really care that i have redefined the word 'disheveled'? did he really care that i would be forced to become the perfect driver just so i would be spared of having to show my license to some poor policeman who would lose all composure upon viewing my picture!?!?

he didn't.

so there's nothing i can do but wait for 2008. and maybe scan and send the picture (labeled 'antidepressant') to all practicing psychiatrists. nobel prize, here i come.