It's the first day of October and the first thing I read on my Facebook news feed today is my friend's call to ignore messages coming from her account. Apparently, she was hacked and the said hacker had been asking money from anyone on her friends list.

This is not the first time I've heard of this. It's not a surprise that people would do things unimaginable just for money. 

But anyway. 

There is a reason why I haven't been posting dancing content on TikTok lately, why my face is getting "rounder" each day, and why we have to hold off or probably let go of our plans to immigrate to Canada (cold weather is a huge trigger).

It's crazy how life can change in a heartbeat.

One minute I'm carrying and pushing around heavy furniture, the next minute I can no longer cut my own nails.

I think I have already done all kinds of haircuts and styles. Pixie, bob, short, medium, long, wavy, curly, side-swept bangs, curtain bangs, blunt bangs, corncrows, name it. But the most liberating of all is this:

There was a time when a fellow blogger walked up to me and said, "I read your blog and I look up to you, Ate Sar." (non-verbatim)

WHOAH! WHOAH! WHOAH! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, YOUNG BUDDY! Because you don't know what you're talking about. But, thank you!

It's not the first time I heard someone say that but it never really sank in me because I honestly still think of myself as a misfit. Not worthy of being an inspiration or an "idol". I suck as a blogger and an adult too.

All this time, I thought that people who read my blog will see me as an internet drama queen who whines about working too hard but is lazy as fuck, or someone who constantly complains about being broke and still eats at Japanese restos every week.

I don't remember the last time I posted something beautiful or helpful. I only blog about the most trivial and uninteresting things in my life. I also rant, but in the most subtle, often (slightly) funny way, with an occasional use of strong language.

I think people see a different Sarah whenever they read this blog. But here's the thing, if you meet me in person and expect me to utter "shit" and "fuck" like how I do it here because I'm supposedly pissed off at the littlest things, then you're going to be disappointed.

And a graphic designer at that?

Well, honestly, I've never been under the spotlight for being color blind. Or maybe I am just lucky not to be surrounded with scumbags who point at random objects and ask me what color that thing is the moment I tell them I am color blind.

It was back in college when I found out about it after taking an Ishihara test during one of our lessons in Anatomy and Physiology. I'd usually answer a random number in frustration because I cannot see what my classmates can. Apparently, I was the only one in our class with that defect.

I am an average looking gal. Most of the time, I look like I just rolled and fell from my bed.

This morning, just like every morning, I woke up earlier than my alarm feeling groggy. And to make things worse, I hit the corner of my bedside bookshelf with my head. I could have gone dramatic over a small, assumed-concussion like what I always do when my hormones go on a monthly overdrive and tell Jan my last goodbyes in case I didn't make it out of bed.

I've had three boyfriends in my life and not one of them has ever courted me.

I don't play hard to get. If I like I guy who likes me too, it wouldn't take long before I commit.

I was 14 when I had my first boyfriend. He was my close friend and our relationship was born out of a deal. "Let's play a game. Kapag nanalo ako, tayo na". Parang ganun. It was nothing really serious. We were still too young and scared. Konting kilig dito, holding hands doon. Ganun lang.

I used to be confident with my body. Back in college, I can wear whatever the hell I want. But of course, that doesn't mean I would go around in skimpy clothes. My wardrobe is still limited to jeans, shirt, and sneakers. But I can also pull off a bikini because, well, I had the body.

I was blessed with a great pair of boobies. I always get complimented for my even-toned morena skin despite living in a country where Snow White defined beauty. And yes, I will not deny that I have this beautiful mala-Aubrey Miles face (or at least, that's what most people think). Seriously.

While some people are exceptionally lucky to always win raffle draws, I am perpetually the opposite. Perhaps I'd be struck by a lightning a hundred times before I even get a chance to win a scratch off lottery game.

But then again, I am still lucky. Just in a different way.

Several days ago, I won a nationwide Blog Writing Contest from AirAsia Philippines. And this isn't the first time I've won a contest. I've won several quiz bees, Math challenges (I detest Math, though), extemporaneous speeches, sports (MVP and Best Goalkeeper), and poster-making contests during my prime childhood and teenage years. I've won quite a few international logo and web design contests, too. And in the recent years, I've bagged some nationwide and local blog awards.

Yes, it does sound like I am blowing my own horn here because I am indeed blowing my own horn. And I am not ashamed to admit that. But what I'm only trying to say is, I've never won a contest I didn't work hard for.

And this is how my luck comes in.

I was not born with a silver spoon.

In fact, I wasn't born with any spoon at all. I remember being poor. But I don't remember how it feels like to be poor, I just remember being loved. Looking back to where we came from, I grew up with hand-me-downs and that being treated with a slice of pizza would already mean the best day ever.


We also didn't have a house of our own, so it's no surprise that we moved quite a lot. From one church parsonage to another to the squatters area in Claveria to the shady slums of Piapi Boulevard to the outskirts of Puan, it's not a wonder living in those dog eat dog communities that I developed this astig (badass) personality. However, I was raised well. My papa worked two jobs, he's a church pastor and also a government employee. My mama, a public school teacher, who had to work to a far-flung area also sold ice candies and yemas for extra. We definitely had tough times. We almost had nothing but like I said, we have LOVE.

How to be u po?

That's one of the comments I often receive whenever I post something on Facebook or sometimes here on my blog. I'm not a celebrity or something. But I believe every blogger, regardless of the number of followers, has certainly experienced the same.

Not that I think our readers and followers worship our curated and seasoned lives on social media. But then, I think it's fun to answer that infamous question once and for all.

How to be me nga ba?  Here are 39 ways: