It feels so wrong having to blog while in Magnet, but wifi is wifi still. Smokes and beer aside, it feels so…weird. Being here. The current band’s vocalist looks like she just took any random shirt to go to a neighbor’s house and somehow ended up here; and this was affirmed when, it turned out that most of the crowd are college kids. She shouts, “Sino mga taga CSB dito? We’re all from CSB except for — (didn’t catch the name) who’s from Arneo.” Collegiala slang, hello.

This isn’t the first time I got a whip of the usual age-ing, or what you get when someone kinda rubs in your face their age. But considering I’m in a regular white shirt, black skinnies and boot-type rubbers, I look so awkwardly juvenile. I’m 18, too, kids. I just look like that manager from this company on the weekdays, but she’s really my older, jaded sister.

I’m supposed to meet a total stranger tonight whom we originally cancelled on when someone (chickened) bailed out on the idea of a blind date. I think she feels I’ve been doing this for a long time, hence the confidence, but I didn’t tell her that I didn’t really mind because relatively, the date’s not for me. I’ll just inject the ice breaker and let them work their magic. I haven’t tried being a matchmaker (nor pimp, for that matter) before, or at least not seriously, and I am worried of my own inability to charm most strangers (exception of some random interestingly weird/ecclectic people, of course), buy I felt confident to pull it off. But alas, cancellations happen.

The girl I’m supposed to set up might feel that this is regular for me, specially when I told her that most of my crowd are college/early yuppies. So matanda na ako, ganun, she kids. Naw, it’s just that I kinda don’t dress like my age sometimes, or at least I pass off as highschool.

And that sentence right there should make me feel better tonight, but oddly, it does not.

I have a neighbor whom I went to primary school with. She’s a couple of years younger, and it feels awkward seeing her look and dress older than me now. I feel her mother looks at me sometimes and wonder what ever happened to my rearing. Maybe my dad thinks of that, too.

I know. I’m still young. And I suppose, one of these days I’ll stop dressing like a teen who left her skateboard in her locker. But I wonder sometimes, whether that would impact my maturity as well, and that’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

(now the question now goes, when will I fully mature?)

Tonight, I’ll pose as a college kid for now and emanate the same enthusiasm for life. I dress like this and I still feel jaded. So sometimes, I’m worried when I finally dress my age. Would I be much more jaded, less passionate than I should be? Dresses don’t dictate, but it helps you with mind setting.

When that happens, please, be nice and don’t call me lola.