You’re so fashionably sensitive but too cool to care

I am not a patient person. I don’t mean impatient in the sense that I get pissed at people easily. But waiting has always been one of my pet peeves, particularly waiting for people. Although my friends are always on time, today was the first time they kept me waiting for an hour. Glyka and Glaiza are neighbors and since Maricris was going to go to Glaiza’s house before heading to the mall, they all decided to leave together. I was surprised to know that Glaiza was coming because it was supposed to be a barkada gimmick. Don’t get me wrong–I’m not a snobby, clique person who wants everything exclusive to her and her friends. But it’s been a very long time since we all hung out together. Just us–no outsiders. I’ve already forgiven Glaiza for being a hypocrite, but when I heard that she’d be coming on Friday for some reason I didn’t want her to. But since it’s Glyka’s treat I couldn’t tell her to un-invite Glaiza. So I just shrugged and I hoped that everything would be all right.

I suppose that my premonition about Glaiza was right, because it was her fault that they were all an hour late in meeting me. The plan was to be at the mall by 11:30. I was fuming by the time they arrived because my dad waited with me and he got pissed that they were late. I told him I was perfectly capable of waiting for them on my own, that I’m not stupid enough to talk to strangers, etc. etc. But he insisited on waiting with me anyway. Naturally, his getting pissed put me in a bad mood and I almost wanted to go home. But for Glyka’s sake I stayed. She’s a good friend of mine and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. At noon I called her on her cell phone. “We’re on our way, we’re on our way,” was the first thing she said. A-huh. On our way down the stairs, I thought sarcastically. I was right. They arrived forty minutes later.

If you are the kind of girl who thinks it’s cool to be fashionably late when meeting your friend/your date because you get noticed more or whatever–well IT’S NOT. It’s extremely rude and impolite, specially if you don’t apologize or offer an explanation afterwards. That’s what Glaiza did, and although I was sorely tempted to wring her neck I managed to be polite and civil to her for the sake of peace. But I pretty much made it known that I was not happy to be around her at all. I think she got the message though, because she wasn’t exactly in the best of moods either.

I cooled down by the time Angelica showed up though. We were on cute guy alert because there were so many people at the mall today, but we didn’t find any. Then Michelle arrived an hour later, and then Kristel a little after that. I was soooo glad to see her. She has braces now. The thing about Kristel is that even though we only see each other around three times a year with no phone calls in between, it’s like she was never gone. I never feel awkward around her like I do when I meet up again with old friends whom I haven’t seen in months. Of course, I wish she didn’t have to move schools. Things grew a whole lot duller without her. Denilou was sick and I couldn’t make it. How I wish it could’ve been the other way around–Glaiza sick and Denilou there. She would never make me wait for an hour (Den, not Glaiza).

In spite of myself, I had fun anyway and I wish I could’ve stayed longer. Naturally I ate a lot, and felt as attractive as a hipopotamus. When we had a picture taken, we all insisted that Angelica remove her denim jacket. She was wearing a tank top and I hardly ever see her with bare arms since she’s as conservative as a grandma. With my eloquent powers of persuasion she finally agreed to take it off, and we were all like, “Oh my gosh, you’re so thin!” She looked great without her jacket, but right after the picture was taken she put it back on and no amount of kulit (persuasion) from me could make her remove it again. She’s not anorexic or anything, but Angelica is catwalk model-thin. She’s tall and pretty too–I can just imagine her walking on the runway wearing the latest from Gucci or Ralph Lauren. I’m really fortunate she’s not the kind of girl who likes to flaunt her body by wearing short-shorts and midriffs because I’d probably have an eating disorder myself. I guess I can’t say that I have a high self-esteem because although I’m okay with my physical attributes, seeing beautiful people reminds me of how ordinary I am. I hate that I’m so flabby and short.