I've got some major rosary-praying to do tonight by making sure I get no distractions. The fuss about the Y2K and the earthquake isn't over in my class yet. Some of my classmates said that the next earthquake that will hit the Philippines will have an intensity of ten. Scary! But then God will never put me in a situation I can't handle. So the Y2K is a only myth (I hope so). But there's still a bunch of other stuff....I don't really wanna make myself paranoid with those thoughts right now, especially with my exams coming up and everything. For some weird reason, I'm particularly excited about my English exam. If my teacher asks us to make sentences, I'll make sure that all my sentences are about my crush.

Looks like I'm not going to be a homebody on Saturday night. Dina invited me to go to Fright Park, the new amusement park in The Fort, with her sixteen-year old sister and a bunch of her friends. My mom says I could go but then I still have to ask my dad. I hope he lets me go; I don't see any point on not allowing me to. I mean, the exams are already over and I'm not doing anything else anyway. It's going to be so much fun. There aren't going to be any wild rides or anything, but you'll get scared to death just the same. It's either that or you get easily tired of ghosts and ghouls jumping out at you from dark corners and whatnot.

I'm starting to become hooked with sending text-messages. Yikes! Ever since I got a bit friendly with the cellphone-toting clique, I've already been texting a bit. To be honest, I think texting is a waste of time. It would be much easier to talk to the person than spending an eternity punching out letters. So why am I so into this texting thing? I don't know. And you know what else I was thinking? I was thinking of buying a cellphone, a Nokia 5110, like the rest of the cellphone-toting clique. Talk about the bandwagon, man! What is wrong with me?

That just reminded me of something. This guy who I think is big braggart and liar called me up tonight. Let's call him Barber, because he's a big braggart and liar (barber is a slang word we use here for "braggart" and "liar"). Great, just what I wanted to receive, a phone call from Mr. Barber. Puh-leaze! I swear, I hate it when people lie. But I hate it even the more when people lie, and it's very obvious that they're lying. Barber acts like he's some rich kid or something like that but then I know how to spot a fraud. Would a real rich kid say how much his cell phone cost? Like, one time, I asked him if he had a cell phone, and he said, "Yeah. It even cost me ten thousand pesos ($250)." Like, hello. No rich kid would say how much anything of his cost, especially if it's expensive, because it would obviously be a perfect target for the kleptomaniacs. And you wouldn't want ten thousand pesos to go down the drain, would you?

He also acts like he's so popular. I was talking to him once (why do I even bother talking to him in the first place) and he metioned that his barkada (sort of clique) consists of forty people. Whoa, okay, that is way too much. Forty people? In one barkada? In his dreams, man! And he never even talks about them so there's obviously no way it actually exists. He's also mentioned something about his five cars, big fancy dinners at the Intercon Hotel and the more I listen to him the more I feel sorry for him. This guy obviously is in dire need of attention, and the foolish sucker that I am, I listened attentively to him because I didn't want to seem rude. But now I learned my lesson--don't ever be polite to barbers, or else they'll keep coming back and bragging to you.

I'm so glad I told him off by saying I had to study for my exams; otherwise, I might've spent yet another painful hour of listening to his wonderful, rich life in LaLa Land. My mom was the one who answered the phone when Barber called. She thought it was Stephen and she told me later on that she was so shocked to hear me being deliberately rude to a friend by saying "I had to study" the moment I answered the phone call. I immediately corrected her major mistake and said that the caller was Barber. Remember, I never say "I have to study" to any of my friends on the phone, especially not to Stephen, Alex and Chris. You'll know I hate you if I ever said that to you on the phone the moment I pick it up and when I do say it, don't call back again. Ever. Next time, I'd better instruct the household to tell him I'm dead if ever he plans to call back again.

Hey, I've got an idea. Barber's school is sort of like the brother school of Stephen's school. Since both schools can check up on each other, I can ask Stephen to check Barber up to see what he's like in school. I'll bet you anything he's a big-time loser or a loner, or maybe both.

I have to go, it's getting late and I still have to pray the rosary. Good night!