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Wenches
Sunday, December 03, 2006

So the weekend didn’t turn out to be as cruel. It was very random, but it was a randomness that I think served me well. Too much coffee, too much sugar, too much time, but I think I expended my energy in an okay way, through a relatively unproductive weekend that I felt no guilt over.

I spent Friday and Saturday night with Carl and Em. The three of us, from now on, shall be referred to—in this blog, in cars and in whatever hole, dingy or otherwise, we find ourselves curled up in—as the Wenches for expediency’s sake. And for other wench-like sakes we can think up of.

Last night, Wench de Mesa (who is Carl and please please please don’t make me explain the reason behind the new last names) and I, Wench Gutierrez, were waiting for Wench Sotto (who is Em) when someone a few blocks away decided to break the calm with fireworks. They were unusually loud for fireworks that didn’t really look like much. Storming of the Bastille-loud, the type that insisted on everyone’s panic. We stayed in our seats. The fireworks were not visible from where we were sitting, but their reflection could be seen on the glass facade of the building across the street, partly-split by large steel window frames. God knows what they were really for, but they didn’t seem celebratory to me exactly. My seeing them did not complement some past event in my life that needed commemorating but, rather, alerted me of all the lovely messes ahead.


posted by marguerite @ 8:30 PM

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Marguerite.
23.
Pasig City, PH.

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