View blogs with tag "best friend":
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That Useless "Pwede Bang Manligaw?" Question
Posted on April 17, 2011 12:00AM
Even though it wasn't mine, the summer before senior year of high school reeked of bad romance, and this lingered long after classes resumed. Come to think of it, I never had a vacation before senior year. My parents enrolled me in one of those review schools for college entrance exams, so instead of going to beach resorts and getting a tan, I ended up going to review classes and trying to stay awake for as long as I can. I dreaded that summer, but the torture paid off when I passed my CATs. But, what made that summer really unforgettable was finding out how Jed really felt about me.
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"I Hate My Friend's Boyfriend!"
Posted on November 3, 2009 12:00PM
It’s hard to say whether all my past girlfriends’ friends ever truly thought of me as the perfect guy for their friend.
I actually don’t care if they didn’t. But I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for about five minutes now and I don’t even know what prompted me to do so. I think it’s because I saw Cosmo.ph’s Cheekie Albay walking by the hallway earlier, my first day back at Summit after my swift three-day break. To her credit, she tried her best not to remind me of my overdue blog, a conduct so unbecoming of her. What she couldn’t say verbally, though, she hinted at subtly with a smile. Pretty sly tactic that unfortunately never works on me anymore.
Out of embarrassment, though, here I am, digging up memories from long ago and scampering to reflect on lessons I might have failed to recognize back then. Right now, I can’t seem to recall any, but I can hear labored, persistent dry coughing. It sounds painful, like having two razor blades cutting through the lungs, the phlegm building up there already fired up to gush.
I realize now that the time I met all four of my then girlfriend’s best gal-pals over dinner was such a bad night to be howling like a wolf with tuberculosis. They were in their powersuits, all five of them, including my girl. I had on my cliched white plain shirt and jeans combo, the business attire de rigueur of many an NGO worker of my time. They have cellphones the size of Cinderella’s left shoe, the ancient variety that came fully equipped with antenna boosters for better reception. From where I was sitting, those gadgets looked lethal enough to pound a human being’s skull to pieces.
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Sam, My Security Blanket
Posted on September 21, 2009 12:00AM
It was Sam who carried me on his back as my own going-away party dragged itself to the nearest Starbucks. In my half-numb state, I remember hearing someone order a Cafe Americano as Sam soothed the harried sobs I didn’t realize I was venting. I remember being hugged and rocked back and forth until my steaming coffee arrived in a small, white cup. Someone was on the phone—my phone—calling my parents for a ride home.
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V, Somebody's Getting Worried
Posted on September 20, 2009 12:00AM
Of course, Sam’s worried. Sam, my closest, most trusted (and have I mentioned good-looking?) guy friend—a rising chef—who has been the most patient shock absorber of all my rants, musings, dreams, and disappointments since time immemorial.
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Nothing But Each Other's Outlet
Posted on September 19, 2009 12:00AM
“Maybe he’s just really busy,” Sam, my closest guy friend, said during one of my many phone calls in the middle of the night. “The guy’s not your boyfriend, V. Don’t expect him to check in every day. You’re not in a relationship.”
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