Sabado night


… found me at Patio de Manila on Roxas Boulevard accepting an award on behalf of the Company. It was my section that won anyway (Hall of Fame, baby), so I’ve no excuse not to be there, even though what I really wanted to do that night was to stay at home and avoid the Christmas rush raging outside.

Anyway, it was an okay night, all things considered, despite the heavy traffic and the awkward moments and the fact that I had to climb up on stage and speak — speak! — in front of a crowd that included Gabby Concepcion, Gladys Guevarra, the comedian Boobsie, and two TV reporters — one a hotshot veteran, the other a pretty newbie (I took pleasure in saying I shared the table with the latter). Thank God Liza Soberano wasn’t able to make it. I would’ve fainted the moment they gave me the microphone for the obligatory “short message” if I knew she was part of the audience. I’m helplessly shy like that, yo.

So I accepted the award, uttered a sentence or two of gratitude, posed for the camera, and got off the stage relieved as hell that I did not fuck up. Outside, later, enjoying a smoke, three tattooed usherettes had their pictures taken with me. Okay, I thought. So this is how it feels like to be someone.

Fuck that. Some shit over the weekend:

  • Watched Episode 7 of Gotham Season 3
  • Only one movie: Money Monster
  • Biked for 5.5 kms (errand)
  • Started reading Preacher Book 6
  • Bought and assembled a storage cabinet for my comics/graphic novels

And then it’s Monday again, and I feel hardly rested, and there are parties galore this week, and lots of Christmas stuff to do, and I got extra cash… it’s exciting, really. And yet what I really want to do is sleep 10 hours straight.

Playlist: WarrantDog Eat Dog


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