Menthol-Guy

Bought Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk last Saturday at the Manila International Book Fair, with two of my friends plus Jmar, Cars and her young brother.

On my way home with a friend, we decided to hit Fully Booked with the gleaming posters of SALE everywhere in its perimeter. At the baggage counter was this section where they have books with prices slashed off as much as eighty percent and, lo and behold, the first book I’ve seen was Ned Vizzini’s Be More Chill! LIKE WE ARE DESTINED.

(These two books cost PhP 700+ but the discount made its price to an affordable PhP 175!!!)

Another book I bought was Martin Amis’s Night Train; I was really intrigued with him since I heard he’s a good writer (British?). Or was it this Kingsley Amis guy? Are they related, after all?

It was funny I haven’t bought that much from the fair. I thought they sell it very cheap, as in half the normal price or something, but maybe it was my fault; the misconception was too sugar-coated. But I wasn’t disappointed. I don’t blame the fair or anything about it. Plus I’m really broke, and had prioritized eating at some Italian restaurant than buying five books (I should have at least bought Jose Dalisay’s book)–which I did, together with my Japanese friend: a platter of pesto and fresh, thin-crust pizza.

Next time I should gear up for bookfairs like these. Well, I only caught wind of it three days last Wednesday (when the fair started) so I didn’t have the time to beg for my parents some money.

I have to tell you something.

I couldn’t get myself to blog about iBlog 5 which happened a week ago. Maybe I just need to forget my iBlog5 draft since–I dunno, it’s pure shit. The post, I mean. Fine, I had fun meeting new people but there’s something that lacks, something that was present in iBlog 3 (the previous one I’ve attended). Maybe it’s the giddy feeling. “Oh, I’ll be there meeting new people!” Maybe I miss the anticipation of feeling the unknown and the unchartered. At iBlog 3 I was feeling my way to new people and was still orienting myself with kickass bloggers–some of which I must have overlooked due to my failure to recognize them, or their faces. Maybe it’s the excitement of at last meeting the people behind the blogs. At iBlog 5, I know–by face, by blog or by some memory–most of the people.

Oh, maybe I enjoyed iBlog 3 so much since it was my first time to get super drunk (but not to the point of sitting in the middle of the road). I probably enjoyed the company, too! I probably liked the atmosphere back then than that of the latter iBlog5.

Well, I didn’t have any food stub, to begin with. (It was partly my failure since I woke up at 8:30. I think I’ve said my thoughts at Flippish. Or maybe they erased the interview since it’s a huge FAIL.)

I shook hands with Paula and Tsina personally during the five-minute break. Both were my High School chatmates-slash-friends–back then they were studying at Miriam. I informed them about the event and–to my surprise–they were willing to go, given that they’re girls (or hoydens? peace!) and their parents must have been strict.

The thing is: I (only) shook hands with them! I don’t know why I only did that–I mean, I should’ve entertained them like a host entertains his visitors. I don’t know. I have tons to tinker with my already-infected laptop (there’s free WiFi so I had time to update my almost-defunct Norton) so our conversation lasted for a smug and a bat of an eyelash.

At the end of the day I felt terrible. During the picture-taking finale I was hunting their heads from the crowd but I couldn’t see them. I didn’t even join the picture-taking since I was busy finding them.

Hey you two, we shall meet again.

Moving on, I also met RJ, a Computer Science graduate from… *drumrolls* UPLB! He works at home and he’s a web designer. I knew he’s from UPLB, judging by his face (UPLB gets smaller through the years to the point that you could memorize faces and everything). I used to see him eating at the carinderia near the apartment. Small world, I guess.

I also met Josiah (who was with Jhed), who blogs about a certain role-playing game. Ian introduced Katrina from Tumblr. I also caught a glimpse of Kenna, also from Tumblr, during the five-minute break! (Too bad I was talking to some guy about WiFi and stuff.)

Much to my dismay, Shari didn’t turn up in the event. I already brought the books I’ve borrowed from her (all FOUR of them). Also, L.A. and Rens didn’t show up. I’ve seen FB and Mariano too, though they only stayed for a couple of hours.

Jhed, Aaron, Xienah, Ian and I went to the afterparty at Katips, near Blueridge and right after White Plains (thanks to Sir Juned for the graphic details of how to get to the venue).

We get to pig out three plates of Sisig, three plates of Tuna Belly, Cheese Sticks, even Chicken Lollipops and Nachos. We weren’t drunk after the San Mig Light Bottles and the flaring shots of Jose Cuervo (together with Billycoy, Fritz, Poyt and Kring among others), so the four of us (Ian went home earlier) to Drew’s Katipunan for an… afterafterparty. Marcel joined us and exhibited his hair-raising fork-bending magic, among others.

To Barry, I’m sorry I forgot to text you!

I went home without even a hint of headache or anything.

I got scratches and scrapes from my attempt to get inside the house using my Timezone card. I forgot to text the maid that the plans were changed, that I’ll be going home around 3 instead of staying at Starbucks for the morning.

I repetitively slid the card through the tiny rift between the door frame and the door–hoping to imitate my brother’s robbing technique, but to no avail. The door didn’t even budge or snapped open! Sometimes I wished I asked my brother about it. Should’ve had a three-minute tutorial about it. I did it for an hour before I gave up and shouted and pleaded so loud for minutes that the maid finally woke up.

“How long have you been staying there?!” She probably noticed the grimy, sweaty T-shirt I was wearing.
“An hour and a half.”
“You can’t open the door. It’s double-locked!”

So all my scratches are fruitless.

Well, I just have to say I’m totally stunned to watch Pacquiao hit Hatton’s jaw so hard and so swift, it electrified him. I don’t exactly root for anyone in the fight, but deep inside I’m already betting my entire bank account just for Pacquiao to win. I knew he would win just because.

I’ve read a Tumblr post which says, “Titigil na naman ang oras sa Pilipinas bukas.” (Translation: Tomorrow, time will stop

It’s amusing how Filipinos are so glued to watching the fight to the point that they have considered it in their schedules. We passed by barber shops, food stalls, even the marketplace and they could still manage to watch the TV while working.

Even my orgmates have intently watched the fight amid the series of commercials.

Even the taxi driver last night told me, clearly and confidently, that Pacquiao would win the fight.

Even jeepney passengers babble about it. I recalled a conversation at the jeep a while ago. They were in a hurry just to reach their homes and watch the game.

A cousin from Pennsylvania called a while ago and told us about his disappointment with the fight. He paid fifty dollars for a pay-per-view of the game–which lasted for two fucking rounds. I couldn’t help but imagine the disappointment of some Filipinos who went to the theaters, and those who went all the way to Las Vegas just to watch it live.

The briefness of the fight must have disappointed those who thirsts for action and suspense. But for die-hard supporters and Filipinos who root for Pacquiao, what matters is who wins the fight.

After a couple of rendezvous-related arguments, a college friend and I agreed to stay for a couple of hours at Starbucks before going to the Fair. She brought out her homemade butterscotch while having Dunhill and iced coffee (mine’s a Dark Mocha Frappuccino) for company.

Instituto Cervantes is located at 855 T.M. Kalaw St. 1000 Ermita, Manila. As far as I know, you can get there through the LRT. United Nations station. The long lines buying tickets convinced us to get a cab instead–which is economically impractical.

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