Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
I could talk about how my first fete became a disaster.
But I won’t. Instead, I'm opting for the mushy mushy entry.
Because despite the disappointing turnout and frustrating miss out (the worst was missing Pam’s and the rest of Mozzie’s performance), I was with my very lovely friends.
Having them around me again was just too overwhelming that I sat there quietly munching on sans rival and coffee, while they down bottles of beer.
There was no awkward silence, no drive to say something witty or funny or terribly shocking just to keep the conversation going. We were just there sitting together and it was enough.
When Shayn asked if she could stay over in our house for the night, we all thought that it would be a great idea if Kathy and Leidy to do the same thing. So they did.
Because we were bone tired, the 1-hour drive seemed like an eternity. But when we finally settled down in the room of my mom, we tried hard to fight off sleep. We talked. Giggled like crazy. And they mocked rape me (just like in college). I found out that they’ve learned new skills of subduing me.
We made Leidy spill her secrets, and then some. And we talked some more. We played our favorite “dead weight” game where we try to kill one friend by lying on top of her, one after the other, until heaps of bodies above her make her lungs give out.
We cursed (our speech was peppered with vulgarity that would make any prude, semi-prude and hypocrites cringe), we bit each other, we acted like a bunch of undergraduate kids, we were animals. It was wonderful.
When we did decide to sleep, Kathy and Leidy wouldn’t let me transfer to the makeshift bed on the floor. They insisted that all four of us would be comfortable. So there we were, squeezed in a bed made for two. I couldn’t even move to my side without bumping into somebody’s hips, or boobs, or in Shayn’s case, tummy.
But they were right, it was comfortable. I’ve never felt so much warmth surround me while sleeping. It feels good pala to wake up beside someone you love.
Five hours of sleep later, Shayn’s mom called to ask that we take her good daughter home. That made our lazy asses to move and prepare for more traveling.
We wouldn’t be Fox without one final hurrah. We stopped over to this pasalubong store that sells good buko pies and sweets. We spent the rest of the drive having picnic in my car.
***
“Kayo lang pala ang kailangan ko para mapangiti ulit ako. Wag na tayong mag-antay ng ganun katagal para magkasama uli,” --Kathy
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