Been bumming around the past couple of days, mostly because it took forever to get revision comments for the project I was doing. Idleness doesn't become me. I begin to think up all sorts of weird things. So last Wednesday, for lack of anything to do, I asked my headwriter whether or not I was going to do any writing that day. He told me to go out first.

So I went out to met up with a friend so she can get tickets for this Monday's Cecille Licad concert. We needed student IDs to get discounts. Then I realized my card doesn't qualify anymore because it hasn't been validated since last year, so I borrowed some from my brothers. We needed two IDs because I needed one for my other friend who lives at the end of the world. All for that discount. We're such cheapoids, I know. I have yet to get word on those tickets later.

Then I went over to Booksale, and got this book. I mean, how can you resist a pig on the flying trapeze? Then raced home for a quick lunch and a shower, then called my headwriter who told me to go ahead and go out. Went to the Shang and caught Pas de scandale. I don't know if it's just the heat, or my boredom, but I'm afraid I didn't fully understand that movie. I just sat there, thinking, what the hey?

Yesterday, got dragged to a thank you lunch for the show's temporary director. It was a surprise lunch, and I was surprised too, because I learned about it at seven in the freaking morning yesterday. The call time was for 11:30 am and I woke up to that message at seven. Such short notice. I guess I could have thought up an excuse not to go, but like a good servant, we got up from bed, grumbling and all and went. All the kids were there. They were all bubbly and giggly and cheerful and kept addressing me with the "po" and "yes, ate" sort of thing. The other writer took me aside and said, "So how does it feel to be 22 and being addressed with this po bit?" One of the girls kept repeating the story of How She Managed To Flush Her Latest Model Nokia Cellphone Into Rockwell's Gleaming Toilet Bowl. She put it on the ledge and the phone vibrated itself into oblivion. In between repetitions of those, they kept giggling over how Shane West was so cute and how Mandy Moore had to wear flat shoes all throughout the movie because she's taller than the cute boy. I feel freaking old. Lunch lasted for nearly four hours.

I'm at home working today. Earlier, I watched Manhattan again. Mariel Hemingway reminds me a lot of Clea Duvall. Later I'll be meeting up with a bunch of people at Sanctum to watch another friend make a fool of herself perform at the open mic. That's it, I'm going back to work.