Saturday, done right

The past week had been bad on my energy levels. With all the shiz going on at work, I wish I could just block off all the updates and just forget I work in-house. But I guess it's all part of the commitment -- and I just have to ride it out.

As someone who's besotted with constantly shifting moods, I know this sinking feeling too well. The best way to go beyond was to escape my neurosis, hang out with friends, and eat well. So for a yummy buffet lunch, I pulled my lazy ass off the bed and met up with my college girlfriends.

The last time we were together was during the gala night of our film and that's way way back in August. They're still fun, of course. And as expected, they always know how to handle my morning intensity. Over Chef Laudico's Angus beef tapa (and other gourmet Filipino food), we talked about life after the film, including my current predicament with my crush.

"See, it's not you, it's him," Nica said.

"I had the feeling something's up." A sharp pain shot through my throat as I swallowed crab meat scooped out of its hard shell. A teeny tiny piece got stuck at the right side of my jaw and I might need a cat to soothe the pain. "But he has a girlfriend. Yikes."

"At least you know he's not gay." We all laughed. It was like a scene from a SATC episode. "I can see why you like him," Karen said. Unlike my other group, my girls weren't too harsh -- no reading of auras here (a talent I didn't know my Iyengar yoga-practicing friend has).

"If you could tell him something, what would it be?"

"Burn that freaking polo shirt," I said without batting an eyelash. "He looks immature, careless, and likely to break the rules -- not good semiotically speaking. He looks like a fuccboi."

"I'm sure you have more to say than that!"

I excused myself and got another glass of cucumber lemonade. Maybe. But what else was there to say? We don't have anything tangible to work with. The most that can be exchanged between this crush and I are a few emojis and a round of pleasantries. One day, this juvenile attraction that has nowhere to go will get flushed out of my system and I'll forget ever feeling this way.

Law of relativity.

--

We all gushed over the milk tea cheesecake. We're in another spot for deserts and had our fill of bottomless mojitos in the middle of the afternoon. This feels like college all over again, when we'd do walking art tours feeling woozy, installation arts intermingling with the perpetual need to lower screechy voices and avoid tripping.

"Do you have plans for a second film?"

"I have," Nica answered. She's gung-ho on being a producer, directing again a far off possibility. With this material ready for production, she's spending the year securing funding.

"What about you?" A pair of eyes turned to me. Marj had left for mass.

"Well..." I started. Should I even share? A long history of heartbreaks over stolen ideas wasn't doing well for my neurosis. And besides, I normally don't share concepts until they're written down. But these are my friends after all. They will always have my back. "I'm developing two stories. It's been in my head for the past 2-3 months."

"Hurry up and share it," Nica says. "I'm about to leave!"

After another 15 minutes, I literally pitched my concepts to two budding film producers guided only by my mojito-induced brain and the familiar comfort of knowing that as my friends, they'll wade through all the mumbles and jumbles and get it. I think I must have pulled it off; they were excited.

"I'll badger you this week," Nica said before heading off. Now Karen and I were the only ones left standing.

"Where do you want to head off next?"

"I think..." I started. "I need coffee to sober up."

--

I haven't had nicotine in my system for a while and I'm back to square one. It's funny how one u-turn can pull you back to where you started, ushering another long journey to getting clean. Now I have a sated fix and a whole pack to get rid of. Old habits do die hard.

--

My head cleared while I'm having my second round of citrus tea. I spent the great deal of an hour ranting about lost opportunities, frustrations, and creative fears. We're back to calmer topics: relationships. Easier topic to dissect and a good distraction from the inherent dissatisfaction that comes with getting old.

"If you were in your 20s, you wouldn't think twice in formalizing your set-up," I said. I've never had a "chill" non-committal set-up, though my past relationship was still pretty "chill" by traditional standards, I said. Karen agreed. Even without meaning to and despite a conscious aversion to marriage, the words consistency and stability came out to play. Welcome to your 30s.

"I just want someone who's not..."

"-- a pain in the ass?"

We laughed. We continued. We changed. Thirteen years ago, we stepped out of college with rose-colored glasses, raring to change the world. But the world changed us instead. I wonder if we could transform some more and if we can, how drastic would it be. And that if we'll recognize the us today, drinking tea and talking about unstable men. Our fire was like an order of bottomless mojito -- the first glass was strong but it gradually turned to juice.

Eventually, our cups emptied and our Grab drivers arrived. We separated in high spirits -- inspired, even -- and went home. For the first time this week, I slept well, only to awake at 4am with a stinging heart. I just shrugged it off as another reason to quit smoking.