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It never fails to surprise me how I have more readers than I think. My last entry elicited more spectators than actual contestants, and more spectators than I expected. (Hell, it got more comments than my n00dz. wtf.) Well I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised since I made quite a spectacle out of myself back there. So to satisfy everyone’s curiosity, I shall make a rather brief entry on What Happened That Night.

Fritz was my date for the evening and whether he was lucky or not to have won is a question only he can answer. You see, we didn’t get around to watching Avenue Q.

Yesterday morning, Anton texted me to say that the folks at Atlantis read my blog and was unhappy with my marketing scheme. And by “marketing scheme”, they probably meant “Whatta slut, whoring herself on the intarwebs for a date. I can’t believe someone like her is what people consider a ‘respectable blogger’ these days.” As a result, they withdrew the extra ticket reserved for whoever I would take (though for some strange reason, they didn’t say I couldn’t watch), and I effectively made an ass out of myself on the internet. How embarrassing.

To be fair to them, I understand why they’d be a little bit shocked. This is the first time they’ve used bloggers to attend a press event, so they’re a little wary because they don’t know what to expect from us. It didn’t really help that I was pretty much soliciting for a date for their event. How very un-Dalagang Pilipina of me. On the other hand, they should have realized that I was simply doing what was expected of me in the first place - namely, generating buzz on the internet. Bloggers raffle off freebies all the time! Well maybe not all the time, but this is certainly something that isn’t new; Abe raffled off tickets to the Bourne Ultimatum a few weeks ago. Of course, he did so without having to post a photo of himself licking a gay friend. But that’s besides the point.

You have to admit that the whole contest thing did work. I got people hooked. I required the winner to make an entry about the play so in effect, I’d have given Atlantis two reviews instead of one. Clearly, my methods are a tad too unconventional for them, so they don’t get any reviews from me AT ALL. As much as I wanted to see Avenue Q, it didn’t feel right for me to go watch despite what just happened. And okay, I admit I was a little pissed off too. So I decided to forfeit my ticket and hang out with Fritz over at Cafe Breton. I’m no naked puppet show, but I certainly hope that I was entertaining enough for him not to secretly hate me for showing up with no tickets.

Needless to say, I won’t be making any more contests anytime soon.

A random idea is random! Depending on the responses I get, this could either be a fun, unconventional way of meeting new people or a fast ticket to blogosphere loserdom.

Do you want to be more awesome and watch Avenue Q before everyone else can? Do you want to be even more awesome and watch Avenue Q before everyone else with a hot girl? Well now is your chance to make that happen!

What the hell?

I have an extra ticket to the Thursday (Sept. 6) show of Avenue Q, courtesy of the awesome Anton. It shall be at the RCBC Plaza Makati, 7 pm. And I want you to go with me!

Date me? No? kkz.

Srsly? How?

It’s very simple! If you are a single male blogger between the ages of 21-29 based in the Philippines (sry, I don’t have the funds to fly you out here :P), all you have to do is answer a very easy question: Why should Lauren watch Avenue Q with me?

So as to avoid bias or whatever, I am letting my best friend Kristel pick out my date for me. She doesn’t scare easy so feel free to answer the question in any way you want. (Hint: we’re both suckers for self-deprecating humor. Especially me.)

E-mail your answers to an.obliteration@gmail.com with the following information listed below.

- Your name
- Your blog URL
- Your cellphone number and YM handle
- A photo of yourself if your blog doesn’t have one
- Subject of the e-mail should be “Lauren’s Avenue Q Contest” so Kristel doesn’t get confused.
- Again, you MUST answer the question: Why should Lauren watch Avenue Q with me?

Deadline of all contest submissions is at 4:00 pm, September 5. Teh winner shall be contacted through text and/or YM.

This guy could be you!

So what’s the catch?

I shall only be asking two things from the winner:
1) Show up on time
2) Write a review of Avenue Q in your blog. You don’t really have to say that you watched it with me, although a mention would be kind of nice.
3) Number three is optional but it would be much appreciated. Please don’t be creepy afterwards?

Oh, and I don’t actually have the tickets with me right now. Anton says to just kind of show up at the RCBC Theater at 7 pm. So if it turns out that there are no free tickets, or there’s just one free ticket and none for you, I’m buying you dinner. You pick where (but nowhere expensive, k?).

I’m harmless! Really!

But why should I go on a date with you?

1) I’m very easy to talk to. As long as you have a triple-digit IQ and can speak the English language fluently, I think we’ll get along fine. I can spew word vomit on a variety of topics - music, movies, books, philosophy, the environmental problems plaguing the state of Montana. Alternately, I’m also a very good listener. But be warned–I can smell bullshit from a mile away.

2) I’m low-maintenance and independent. Don’t have a car? No problem - I can hop on a train or hail a cab and meet you wherever.

3) I’m not that creepy. If I have a good time, you don’t need to worry about waking up to 25 missed calls and 10 text messages from me where I swear my undying love to you and insist that our children be named Talulah and Amadeus.

So go! Send those emails! Now! It’ll be fun. Promise. xD

I am a firm believer that Sunday mornings are only good for sleeping in and regenerating the energy lost from Saturday night’s social activities. It most certainly is not the time to be scrambling madly about for something decent to wear for a breakfast date at Portico 1771 in Serendra.

Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a breakfast date before. At least, not since my last relationship went kablooey. In the first place, I’m not a morning person; on non-working days, I’m normally dead to the world til way past noon. Breakfast is usually a meal I have to force down my throat because my stomach is too sleepy to appreciate anything but coffee.

And then there’s the concept of a date, the intricate social dance where two people put on their prettiest masks in order to…well, I’m not really sure. When I’m trying to make an impression, I’d much rather be cloaked in the safety of the dark, where my blemishes and flaws are given a softer edge by the neon lights of a crowded club. I think the dance has already reached that point where my best foot is getting cramps from all that effort. It’s about time the makeup came off and for the crass, less sophisticated, and not-so-charming other foot to step forward.

Photo by Dine
because I forgot to bring my camera

What my afternoon-nap-muddled mind can remember of breakfast is not the food per se, but how much I enjoyed the morning I spent at Serendra with my breakfast companion. I didn’t care that it took something like twenty minutes for our food to reach our table. In fact, I was grateful for the leisurely pace, which gave us more time to talk about everything and anything that bubbled up on the surface of our minds. Not that the arrival of my french toast and his chicken tocino stopped me from making jabs at his masculinity–which he retaliated with wisecracks about my closet girly-girliness. We were the noisiest people there, or maybe that was just me talking a little too enthusiastically and laughing a little too loudly at his jokes. If people were giving me dirty looks for not behaving like a Dalagang Filipina, I didn’t notice nor would I have cared. I was having a lot of fun.

Serendra is prettier on a Sunday morning. Perhaps it was the absence of the snooty socialites or maybe it was the seratonin high, but walking past the sleepy shutters of the shop windows felt like a lazy stroll in a Victorian park. We waited for Fully Booked to open its money-black hole doors at a coffee shop, and resisted the temptation to spend ridiculous amounts on books and CDs. As what happens when you’re with someone whose company you truly enjoy, the hours flew by quickly and it was time to head back.

If waking up early means spending my mornings like this, maybe I could be a morning person after all.