Let’s talk about recent events, shall we?
Perhaps the world will end on Friday. But I was watching a NatGeo special last night and it was talking about how the whole end of the world prediction by the Mayans is actually very vague. The world ending on 12.21.2012 is just one of the interpretations of one of the writings that archaeologists found. So it could very well be wrong, and there are apparently other texts that say that the Mayans didn’t believe that the world would end because they believed in cycles, which meant that the end of something would just bring about the beginning of something else, much like how the 20th century ended and the 21st century began. Not that I ever believed that the world would end on 12.21.2012 but I’m not judging the people who believe/d it either.
I saw another show on NatGeo last night, which was about testing your memory and I’m proud to say that out of the brain games they did, I was able to get an above average score. Of course, they were memory games and there was no math involved. I wish my mind was more well-rounded.
And speaking of wishing for things I don’t have, I realized just last Saturday (I know, it’s very strange considering I’ve been experiencing it for my entire life, basically) that I apparently have “Insecurity Attacks”. At least, that’s what my friend R called it. Is it a real thing? But even if it’s not, I would say that that is the most accurate description for what I have. You know those sudden bursts of self-pity when you just uncontrollably spew out everything you hate about yourself? Yeah. It happens to me a lot, but quite embarrassingly it happened last Saturday just before our Christmas party. My friends put make-up on me and as if my discomfort about make-up wasn’t enough, some of the people in our house (those inconsiderate ones, including and most especially E) called me a clown and/or a Kabuki actor, which was so not what I was going for. Let’s see you not have an insecurity attack after that.
Anyway, my office friends and I eventually made it to the Christmas party. We were too late to qualify for the raffle and I regret that I didn’t think of a very good back-up plan in case the driver didn’t show up (which, he didn’t, and that’s why we were very late) but at least we weren’t late for the start of the program, the dinner, the dance number (which was my reason for coming to the party) and the video presentations, which were really quite interesting.
The party was at this new hotel at The Fort, which made me feel like I was back at my old job, because my previous office was only a few buildings away. My 4 years worth of work experience in that area came in real handy as I was the one who led the way to the places that we went to after the party — Kuppa and Keg. We just walked because we’re without private transportation, which made me think that it’s probably high time I learn how to drive. Alas, I really feel like I’m too timid a person to drive.
We did ask the guys what they wanted to do after not enjoying themselves in Keg. I asked if they wanted to a) go dancing at a club or b) hang out at my house. They replied with the following:
K: Do I look like I’m in a dancing mood?
R: Did you say “club”? NO.
Not that I didn’t agree. Between you and me (and by you, I mean, the rest of the world), I’m really not fond of clubs/dancing either. So we spent the wee hours of the morning at my house. We got there a few minutes before 4 a.m., just in time to hear the bells of the chapel in front of my house ringing, signaling the start of Simbang Gabi. It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen the Simbang Gabi happening. We didn’t attend, but I still sort of felt the Christmas spirit, even though we were hanging out at the porch, not paying attention to the mass.
When the sun rose, we had danggit and garlic rice for breakfast. And we talked about The Morning Rush until it was 8 a.m. and everybody had to go home. I slept as soon as they all left and didn’t wake up until 12 hours later. But all in all, I’d say it was a pretty good weekend. Insecurity attacks notwithstanding.