Birthday Journal Entry

I still am not a huge believer of birthdays, since I got too disillusioned by it a long time ago (along with my falling out with the concept of love, but we'll get to that another day). But my 19th *ehem* birthday? Surprisingly it was nice. Quite memorable. I got to throw the phrase "eh birthday ko naman eh" around. I wore my Clubber jersey with the number 22. No special reason. It made me smile (okay I was giddy) that my clubber crush greeted me as soon as he saw me, as well as when that dude I wasn't friends with anymore hit me with a piece of paper while greeting me happy birthay. Oddly satisfying. I didn't attend my two classes for the day even though my classes end at 1pm, and had someone sign in for me in Bio (Kids, don't do this. Stay in school). An app (plus another app) was celebrating his birthday as well, so he had pizza delivered at the tamb. Free appetizer before lunch, huzzah!

The Trio (please remind me when did this become a thing?) plus Romeo had a "working lunch" at the Tearoom. We're sorry we kidnapped you and made you eat a bit-pricier-than-usual lunch, Romeo. We wanted you there with us, I swear. Thank you for bearing with us, t'was worth being late for ES1 I hope? And yeah, "birthday ko naman eh" --insert non-Duchenne pleading Jo smile, the one where my eyebrows are raised and my teeth are bared--.

Then a wild frat-sponsored contest appeared! Hubaran + kainan + laklakan. I'm quite proud to say IE Club hasn't lost its touch, wildly competitive as always. I probably would've taken my bra off for the longest line contest, but then I thought I'll settle with ripping off my bra straps instead. I never knew I had major speed-stripping skills. And I never knew I could chug down (diluted) beer as if I weren't a girl. Sure, I know I drink fast, and I'm pretty sure I practically doused my shirt and shorts with a good fourth of that last glass, but I never expected I'd down that mofo as fast as I did. Boom, instant 8.3k for IE Club.

Since I really didn't have any plans, it took us a long while to decide what to do for the night, too many contingency measures were implemented, and we, the Indispensable 09's*, ended up buying drinks and celebrating with the magnificent 11's at Favie's house (after having dinner at Wok This Way, and after their batch party celebrating Ria's and Angela's birthday. And after a very upsetting moment I'd rather not want to recount). Galvin was the best, buying most of the drinks and all. He also was the one who signed my Bio attendance, sort of a trade for logging in for him on his birthday last Wednesday.

The only person who gave me an actual tangible gift for my birthday was DJ--The Best of Youngblood. "Because I read your blog**, here's a nostalgic collection of contemplative essays for light reading," said the card. Thanks DJ. Though I still can't believe you took away from me the joy of writing my name and the date  of the book's acquisition on the book's title page. I love writing my name and the date of a new book's acquisition on the book's title page. But thank you all the same. Hugs.

I received numerous hugs from people, mostly girls than boys, with a ratio of 4:1 (I keep score of things, I like counting, it's a bad habit. Stupid nuances). I like hugs, I realized. Sometimes. I'm not much of a hugger, as I almost always dislike having people encroach on my personal space. But yes hugs can sometimes make my day. I remember too many arguments with previous paramours that ended with me saying "I just needed a hug." I never realized how true those words were, in retrospect. I digress. Sometimes it only takes a meaningful hug, or a maybe a tender kiss on the cheek to make my day. But please don't. Operative word: sometimes. I almost always don't like affection, especially in public***. Don't get any ideas. Cue romantic music swelling. Cut.

"Masaya kang lasing ngayon ah. Nakakatuwa," said Carbs that night. Yes, my friends have judged me, since they've already established than alcohol + Jo = disastrously sad/angry and emo. Thanks guys, but you've pegged me quite wrong. That equation might be indicative of a greater truth though, and that is that I am an honest drunk. Though I wasn't drunk that night, barely tipsy even. But, yes, I was honest. And that statement is open to interpretation. End of random thought.

In any case, I'm happy. I had a great day. I had a great night. Enough said. Here's to a new year, here's to Season 22 of Jo and Her Wonderful Bedtime Stories. And thank you to everyone who made my day and for celebrating it with me, you know who you are. Especially to those who I really wanted to be around. Again, you know who you are.



Now where's that article I was working on?



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*Yes, I consider myself an 09
**Reference http://modifythephasevariance.blogspot.com/2012/07/birthdays-and-my-cynicism.html
***I used to be a romantic, sort of. Now it's just buried deep down methinks. Though quite honestly I don't understood the appeal of being lovey-dovey in public. Nauseating. If I am guilty of ever having committing this in the past, forgive me, I was probably in love. Or it probably never happened.