Supposedly Wasted But Not. Yet.

Yesterday my best friend Manoy celebrated her 18th birthday. Yes, it's 'her'—her real name is Manelette, but I was the evil bitch who gave her the 'Manoy' nickname when we were in first year high school. In my defense though, I reasoned out that being called 'Let-let' during prep and 'Mane' in elementary makes one sound boring and quite faded. And too mainstream. So Manoy it was, and maybe forever it shall be. I rather think she likes it though.

On to the party. There was no program for her debut, really. She just asked us to drag our asses to to Hardin ng Postema in Tanza, about twenty to forty minutes from where I live. I went to the place with her since I didn't want to wait for my other high school batchmates to slowpoke their way to the resort. I mean, they're the sort that when you say 6 PM, they hear 8 PM (and even then you're having your lucky day). So I just left early and we got there about 5:30 PM, even though the call time was at six. Guess what I did first bitches. Buffet table yihaa!

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