This will be incoherent because it’s past 1 a.m. and I’ve been up since 6 a.m. yesterday.
The first two days of the past week were unforgettable but if anyone who had been with me during those days would like to dispute that, go ahead.
On Wednesday, Sheila celebrated her birthday working and taking notes for a mini-reception.
We took pictures and I’m happy to announce that you can do funny things with a giant stuffed banana pillow, large purple balloons and small pink balloons.
I have pictures but I have not uploaded them yet. Since then until now, I think I’m losing my interest in taking too much pics of every moment, like an addiction I’m slowly giving up because it’s not as fun anymore.
Anyway, I’ll put up the pics I took just for the sake of sharing it to the people who were in it.
On Thursday, there was a dinner held for Shoppers’ Day volunteers. I got a GC of sorts which has “favorite fitness guru” plastered allover it. Well, as long as it’s free, it won’t hurt, otherwise, I might just do yoga with the Hegers. At work, I was harrassed since officialy stepping
to the bad side to our magical dungeon of an office, and I really blurted I only have one body towards the end of the afternoon. This body is enormous but still, it cannot function as two. But just like other work-related rant, you get over it by typing fast, walking fast, and reporting to the proper people.
On Friday, Sheila sated our craving for Mexican food to a place that has been our haunt since last year. It was full of laughter, especially with Watashi around. I was just surprised that one serving of margarita zonked me out, probably disappointing Sheila who ordered a pitcher while looking at me. Really, I used to finish off a pitcher by just listening to friends rant about their lives. After seeing my struggle with a glass of margarita, I was sure they whispered something like I probably do not have problems anymore. So they were thinknig I was problematic then and wasn’t just experimenting with the threshold of my alcohol consumption. That was fun.
It was an old maid kind of dinner date as we headed our separate ways by 7 pm. I walked to Robinson’s, bought a bargain book at Powerbooks (the disease is alive), and read for an hour-and-a-half this bargain book by Edward Rutherfurd, aptly titled Russka. I mentioned I’m going to get my Russia fix this month, right? A historical fiction may not be the best way to kick things off but well, I still get to decide, not you. 🙂 Now, I don’t know where that statement came from.
A day later, I was late for my Shoppers’ Day assignment post so I wandered in the venue for a while as I sip my strong coffee until I had the gall to ask someone if she wants me to replace her. Turned out she was just waiting for another volunteer because she was in the venue working since 4:30 a.m, and that was already around 10 a.m. when I asked. So anyway, I wrote donor names and the corresponding prize donations for about 2 hours, posted results in this semi-giant white board, sold raffle tickets, and helped winners claim their nifty prizes at the stage.
I would have stayed until closing time, and believe me, I would, because a lot of volunteers didn’t show up as expected. However, Rach called me already for the 7 p.m. Elliott Yamin show and to make the long story short, as Ayala concierge handed out tickets as soon as the mall opened, by the time I got to Glorietta by 12:27 p.m., all tickets and meet-and-greet limited pass were gone.
Rach promised to wait with me for the 7 p.m. show so we ate a looooong but very heaaaaavy lunch at Heaven n’ Eggs, and bashed Brad Pitt over 16 ounces of rocky road blizzard from Dairy Queen.
The next entry would tell you the rest.
The past week was okay and it was made so by the events on Saturday.
Surprisingly, I took less pictures if none of these Saturday events. If it was a few months ago, I would have made “A Day in the Life of a Shoppers’ Day Volunteer” scrapbook and an extensive “Waiting for, Watching but on the verge of drooling, and Talking about Elliott Yamin” photo collection.
I have less than five pictures of everything and they weren’t even as good.
I think it’s my inner
demon angel self telling me to capture moments with and preserve everything in my puny mind because that’s where memories last meaningfully, unless I am hit with early Alzheimer’s.