the one with 3am, green tomato and Friends; get ready for your close-up

It’s five minutes past three in the morning and I just got home from a night-out with friends. Then a chilling thought came to me – this is the so-called witching hour, the deepest of the night. Somehow, this hour started to freak me out ever since that recent incident at a hotel we stayed in. You see, three of us left awake were telling ghost stories to each other, then a story about the 3AM-phenomenon was brought up. Upon hearing the time reference from the story teller, I asked them what time it was. Before they checked their watches, and told me to not look at mine, I slipped out my cellphone and found out, to my horror, that it read 3:00. Freaky! Some forces might have been listening to us all that time and have found a way to make their presence felt. Happy Halloween!

So my friends and I dined in this restaurant called Green Tomato, which served pastas, pizzas and a bunch of antipastos. We had three different kinds of pastas – one with tuna, another with chicken and mushrooms, and yet another with hungarian sausages. We also had rosemary chicken with a potato salad siding and two nine-inch pizzas. Now those are only for the four of us, imagine that! They were all damn fine, so it was a nice find after all. We were all bloated and had a hard time peeling our asses off the chairs.

Skipping the sucky movies, we went to my friend’s unit and binged on yet more food. We gorged on a Sansrival ice cream, which I found to be a tad boring, as well as some chips and cookies. I found a DVD of the Friends’ finale episode and we popped it in her player. Friends is one of those feel-good sitcoms that just makes you look at life at a sunnier perspective. Yes, there were heartaches and petty bickerings, but at the end of the day, you still find yourself in the midst of friends. Imagine, ten years of Phoebe (my favorite of the gals), Joey (of the guys), Chandler and Monica, and of Ross and Rachel. I hope another sitcom like this comes along.

Cut to a different story. I read this morning that Mars, for the second time in nearly 60,000 years, will swing unusually close to Earth today, appearing as a yellow twinkle in the night sky. True enough, I think I saw it right above our house a few minutes ago. What I saw was the brightest of the stars, so I am assuming that that’s the fourth rock from the Sun, now only 43.1 million miles away. The normal distance between the Earth and Mars would be around 140 million miles, so tonight’s close-up of the moon is highly rare, something which will not possibly happen again until 2018. I might be wrong, my eyes might have just been playing tricks on me, but if you happen to be gazing at the sky tonight, look for a small brilliant dot. If you have a high-powered telescope, you could be looking at a very luminous ball, or even be able to see the details on the planet’s surface including its southern ice cap and white clouds. Now that’s the closest you could get to seeing Mars.

On another close-up incident, let me recall an uncomfortable up-close with a guy at the spa last night. I was leisurely enjoying the warm jacuzzi when this gay dude joined in. There was the usual testing-the-waters silence at first until he chatted me up. I usually put on a talk-to-me-not face when in the spa, since I want some quiet downtime by myself. This guy was just persistent. And it was just amusing how he tried to sway his way with words. First, he asked me if I am doing weights. Saying they are toned nicely. What the *beep?! I know my arms, and obviously, they are shapeless slabs of appendages, sans the contours of muscles. Then he comments (note: I didn’t use the word compliment since his sincerity was dubious) that I am goodlooking, well, extremely goodlooking, since he used the local word for it twice. Errr, okay… He even went to explaining how my face comes close to, if not, perfection because of the distance of my eyes from each other, the shape of my nose, my brows, my mouth, and the whole face anatomy blah blah blah yada yada yada, which he says he is quite familiar with since he’s in the fashion industry. Okay, those were rather nice things to hear about myself, but sorry, I. Am. Not. Buying. It. He might have felt I was getting more and more freaked out by the minute, or he might have seen this one guy walking into the steam room, because he bid goodbye, finally! Much to my relief because the water has pruned my fingers and I was itching to sit butt-naked in the dry sauna.

Oh, well. Gotta hit the sack. I hope you’d be able to have a close-up view of Mars tonight and I wish you the sweetest of dreams.


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