We walked along the quay in a balmy and refreshing breeze. We passed lilac trees and small rosebushes and German soldiers on patrol. We spoke about our future and how we would like to stay together. Then I walked back home in the evening, through the soft night, feeling light and languid from the white Chianti, and I was suddenly absolutely certain of what I now again doubt: that I shall be a writer one day. Those long nights through which I would write and write would be the most beautiful nights of all.
May 26, 1942
Night with a Capital L
Last night was long overdue among other long overdue nights with unexpiring friends. I'm glad I finally caught Astrid, Arlyn, and Jessel.
After I fetched a check, I munched-a-lunch with Jessel and Arlyn at Katipunan. Arlyn talked of a Mandy Moore starrer where she played a Catholic schoolgirl religious bitch (that is, from what I gathered). Naturally, I wanted to see it right away. Since that wasn't possible, I just got myself an armful of overpriced books. Then school supplies from another store for Jessel's little kid. We went back to Diliman for our own geeky purposes and waited for Astrid to come and save us.
Well she came at around six and, if I remembered right, she did us in with a version of that chicken-thing ad where the elevator closes on a yuppie conveying his lunch order. All hail the power of the advertisement. Guess where we got our dinners. Then coffee with Arlyn's trusty tumbler. The centavoless rest of us contented ourselves with stories.
We talked the small talk, yes, though the tones and topics didn't seem all that small. I don't understand why - for me at least - it was yet wasn't small talk. Maybe because we didn't mention Kris Aquino even once? Oh well.
L is for 'Loser' which is how Astrid labels a night out where we head for home before ten. Arlyn begged us to accept being losers for the night, for a friend. She wanted to catch a ten-minute trailer or making or somesuch of Harry Potter. So, pfft, we're gone, off to homes, mornings, and other nights.