that was my first thought when a high school classmate sent a message urging to mark calendars for a batch reunion this december 11.
jazz and i have a theory about the motivation behind this reunion. it’s not even rocket science to begin with. it’s an authorized and costly way to hold an intellectual or psychological pissing contest. who are the doctors in the house? who are the lawyers in the house? raise your hands, y’all wonderful creatures of God!
the second thought that came to mind was: i have to have something to do on december 11. hmm, can i have pride march moved from november 4 to december 11? nope. the organizers don’t even know me. can i go out with my family? nope. what about with friends? maybe we can bug mako and peach for a quick pizza party? or scour areas for exclusive parties? or i can attend a conference, a seminar, or even a wake, a construction all-nighter, a prayer vigil! anything but that.
but what will most probably happen is this: jazz and i will attend the reunion. i will dress up and wear killer shoes. i will drink and hang out with jazz’s crazy friends. i will invent careers when a batchmate asks, “where do you work now?” “oh, i work at the rizal stadium pool. i clean the tiles. with a comb.” or “i stencil signs.” or “i teach cats to dance.”
the pro to this: i may be able to air-kiss the people i abhor and relive the times i conjured them as dart targets in my ally mcbeal maniacal scenarios. always nice to relive those kinds of memories.
listening to: TLC’s Creep