Um! Pak! Tok! Tugush! Ka-blog!

I never really liked going to Embassy.

What, I’ve been there like twice since Tim Yap and Friends gave this great happenin’ place as gift to Manilakind’s most elite (and nag-e-elite-elitan).

Not because I suddenly felt like an 18-year old woman in her late 20s and went there like you know…to partay

*stuk..stak…stuk…stak…teeteetiwtiw…teeteetiwtiw…*

But because I had to attend some private affair.

And I wasn’t even properly dressed…in true Embassy fashion–

‘Yun tipong ‘pag nakita mo, mapapa-blurt out ka ng, “Hey, where’s the partay, bitch???”

And recently, in true jolog fashion, my everyday friends and I went to Cuisine not because we had the money to spare but because Chie had GCs. O ha, san ka pa???

And I didn’t feel like dressing up.

Daming bagets, syets.

Aside from taut skin, they exude this certain aura from which you know they belong to an entirely later generation.

‘Yung tipong isang dekada ang age gap nyo. Ganon.

And oh boy, they do dress up.

As in makikita mo ang effort.

And there were these two guys standing on the elevated platform, their beers perfectly positioned between their hands, like how models would do it in an ad, surveying the girls sitting on the lower floor.

I was thinking if the interior designers of Cuisine intentionally did the high-low platform so boys could literally look down and choose the girls they wanna hook up with.

Take note: Girls, not women.

(Boys and Men don’t really have that much difference.)

When we got out of Cuisine, there were lots of kids lined up at the entrance of the Embassy.

And they literally looked like they were going to party.

As in major effort.

(I have thing against obvious effort when dressing up, sorry. Dressing up should take effort but it should look effortless.)

And one other obvious thing I’ve noticed was the absence of the sosyal people I used to see hangin’ around Emba.

In their place were, what looked like a bunch of middle class kids, who looked like they raided Mom’s closet.

And who probably didn’t eat for a week so they could have moolah pang-Emba.

I’m not being matapobre as I’m also a proud member of the C social class.

My point is, I don’t like going to Embassy or any other place that AB people frequent (or used to frequent) because I feel like such a POSER.

Not to mention that I’m supposed to be on my post-Embassy phase.

Scrap that.

I didn’t even go through an Embassy phase.

And that’s what those kids looked like to me: POSERS.

And they weren’t even good at it.

If there were fashion police around, these kids would’ve gotten a life sentence (kasi walang death penalty).

Anyway, we were supposed to watch the launch of Taken by Car’s album at Mag:net. But they weren’t playing ’til 12mn.

Umalma ang pinaka-matanda sa grupo (guess who).

So we ended up in RJ’s home (why Filipino kids call house a ‘crib’ escapes me). And I instantly felt at home. Ultimate gimmick ng mga nagkaka-edad!

We watched Bubble Gang and Russel Peters. O di ba, we’re so flexible.

But not before lining up at Krsipy Kreme to get a free doughnut and pa-simpleng walk out the door.

How jolog is that.

*Why Chie doesn’t wanna say ‘jologs’ escapes me as well. When she has to refer to it, she spells it out: J.O.L.O.G.S. Like that. Why can’t she say my name?