Weekend is here, but Monday is just around the corner. ARGH.

Sarah B. will be reading (or has finished reading?) excerpts of her journals to an audience. That got me to thinking whether I still have my diaries (large, hardbound notebooks--I don't do things halfway even during pre-pubescent years) when I was 10 years old and whether I ever wrote anything that would embarrass me. I do remember, at 13, wanting to be a novelist, of the Barbara Cartland-Mills & Boons-a dash of Harold Robbins sort and using the large, hardbound notebooks for writing the drafts of THE novel. I also remember my mother reading them and being shocked by her daughter's very hormonally-driven imagination (I used to have the hots for McGyver's Richard Anderson and Duran Duran's Simon Le Bon, god I hope I spelt his name right, and they eventually found their way into THE novel's leading men characterisation). I did have the boob angst, when I was 16 and was going to conquer the University and have nothing to fill the bra cups with. But I don't remember if I ever wrote that down in my diary, but I think it's worth mentioning that here, because just you imagine that: 16 YEARS OLD AND GOING TO THE UNIVERSITY WITHOUT THE PROPER ACCOUTREMENTS. It was traumatic, to say the least. AND I did read that book about that pre-pubescent girl who talks to God about bra-size and such things.

So. Anyway. I went on the University and continue to write in diaries. But mostly about seaspray and salmon-colored skies and how I would like to bed this tall and lanky and darkly-skinned good-looking classmate of mine who was very mean in Calculus and was named Fernando. But I think I made the ultimate mistake of being better than him in Calculus. Sigh. Suffice to say, he never even looked at my way, except to ask me where my friend Yasmin was.

It's now 12:34 pm and I'm hungry. This is for now folks. And oh btw, have a great weekend. I am going to have a quiet and lazy weekend over at the girlfriend's place which I will have all to myself as she is still in Manila, doing some thingajig that she has to do.