3/12/2009
Preoccupation

I've been here for four days and I haven't had an idea of what to write. Blame four days of the forced wear-off. I'll try saying something substantial.

Ariane got a phone call from one of the radio stations she went to, asking her to make a guest appearance on one of their shows. Many of us told her about it, and she didn't expect to actually make it that far, so never mind the late time, and never mind the distance - she still did it. One night became two nights, and both nights I fell asleep while waiting for her to pop up, because I'm no longer used to staying up late. And then she tells me the gig wasn't her kind of thing, and promptly backed out.

Jackie asked me about nouns that start with the letter A, and by then I quickly realized that creating questions for quiz shows are harder than it looks. It took me almost half an hour before I submitted "Abba" and "ashtray", and it does feel good to realize that she's made something out of it, and only hopes for it to be approved before it gets asked to a partly-hapless population, complete with gyrating dancers and slightly-risque humor.

Samantha keeps on sending me group messages, basically push Twitter with incomprehensible symbols and code that probably refer to her and her boyfriend. I finally told her to stop sending me those messages, calling it flat out annoying, and she promptly apologized when she realized I was serious. The next day, I greeted her a happy birthday, which is an extraordinarily special occasion if you've been following your history. She asked if she can send me one group message. I said no.

Icka and I were discussing American Idol over the past few days. She's rooting for Anoop and I'm rooting for Allison, and we've tangled each other up in many debates about whether one did better or not. To her benefit, I was sending her publicity photos that she wouldn't otherwise get, and she's been screaming "Indian babies!" afterwards. Never mind the parallels with everything else. We just had something different to talk about, outside (finally) of her high school years and human anatomy, and it felt pretty good.

Leslie was driving herself to work one day when, in an attempt to avoid traffic by taking a detour, a coconut fell on her car and she was apprehended by police for alleged swerving. She claimed it to be her worst day ever. The irony was, I texted her before she left, hoping she wouldn't be late. Well, her work relationships are much better, except for one.

Valerie convinced me to get a Twitter page. She convinced Erik, too, although it only lasted a day of sorts. It's not the reason why I've been suffering from writer's block, though. It's fun writing down as many thoughts in 140 characters, but I find it better to write long essays with complicated metaphors and no conclusive endings. It's weird following British radio DJs, political pundits and former professors, but oh well. I sometimes feel bad that I haven't been writing much substance, instead telling the world that I'm going to lunch, which makes Jon Stewart's point very valid, indeed.

Asia was texting me a few nights ago, and while we exchanged updates about how we're dealing with our own heartbreaks, she mentioned that she is gunning for the top position at the Malate Literary Folio. I simply hoped good things will happen to her. To all of us.

And your responses...

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