The Friday that failed.

I was up early in the morning at 8am when class was due at 10. Our 3-hour Moral class (I had done my share of complaining on how stupid this subject is, calling it Moral no less) was made known to be cancelled, and I thought, maybe I should wear a pair of jeans I hadn’t be wearing in ages (I hate the pockets, to be honest, they’re too bloody tight), and maybe that very comfortable Timberland tee to boot?

We arrived late at college as Andy woke up late yet again, but missed nothing particularly important as it was only a Business Comm. tutorial. I was in high spirits - maybe because it was a Friday, and maybe because I was harbouring hopes of enjoying a complete day out with friends.

So it was soon made known to us that the rest of the girls of our AC2 clan won’t be joining us for whatever we were doing, leaving me, Andy, Kent and Bryan to do whatever we wanted. After lunch at Salmon Steak, where long story short Kent went back home to meet up with someone from a magazine, while Bryan went back to his house in Cheras and back again to college to pay his school fees, the three of us went to FTZ for several rounds of Counter-Strike Source.

Blabla further long tales cut short, Bryan decided not to join, announcing it to Kent, and both Andy and I were left alone.

We sat in my car for full 5 minutes contemplating our next move. We phoned our ex-high school mates we could think of, all of whom were busy with their own activities. I thought of going back home, but then the thought of a completely free Friday, not restricted by a stupid 3-hour Moral class for weeks to come, made us want to go out.

So Andy suggested cendol and off we went to SS15 nearby for that sweet coconut milk delicacy.

That done, I tried to think of places to go to that weren’t too far, some places new we have yet to explore, and I had the sudden craving to go on a road trip, to just journey by car to anywhere in Malaysia, simply by following our heart.

We decided on Cineleisure, and we thought maybe we should try the shortcut Yen had once taught us about.

We left SS15 feeling jovial again, me in high spirits as ever as we embarked on this journey I thought to be as personal and as happy as it could ever be. Even the bright, gleaming blue of the sky after the haze left us seemed to indicate that. The roads soon branched out on our left and Andy asked me to follow it, and I said, “But it says Shah Alam on the ground.”

A minute later we were totally at a toll, paying RM1.10 while asking the kakak manning it for the directions to 1U. “You naik itu flyover, buat U-turn lepas to boleh pergi 1U.”

We U-turned into the same fucking toll, dishing out the same RM1.10 via my Touch n’ Go.

So we went along the familiar road leading to Subang Airport and lo and behold we serenely overshot a particular turn without even noticing it. -____-

Getting lost is not my idea of fun after what had happened on the first day of the year. I still felt a sense of phobia - something I don’t quite know how to explain - but I do fear getting lost. I dislike it. Which is why maybe a road trip would cure this of me.

We used the shortcut that leads to a kampung and I had to phone Yen to ask for directions. After a bout of trial and error, we finally reached The Curve.

Finally, I thought.

So we went into Cineleisure, a building by itself with loads of unopened shops housed within, and went straight for the cineplex. On reaching there.. the movies that were within the right timeframe were the ones we have watched before, and the ones we have yet to watch, we had to wait for about 2 hours more for which we had no time for.

=_________=

The sole reason why we travelled all the fucking way to Damansara was because of Cineleisure and it’s as if everything was against us. Against me.

Nothing worked as I had thought it would roughly turned out to be. It was just.. iono? Fucking sucky. I just felt the deposits of disappointment building up, as if a team of dwarves were working inside me constructing this mountain of disappointment and depression I’m forced to hide within.

It’s as if men have that “time of the month” too.

We walked around, into FOS, into Borders, into Rock Corner. I initially didn’t want to spend my money on Snow Patrol’s CD I wanted to buy, as I had a 20% discount coupon from Universal, but when I saw it was a Special Edition version bundled with a DVD, I was persuaded to buy.

I went to the counter after browsing through the store and the man and lady in charge told me that the coupon was only applicable for the normal version of the album.

At that point I was like, “Can this day get any worse?” while calmly telling them never mind, I’ll reconsider buying it.

The big-sized dude must’ve sensed my disappointment or something, because as I was about to walk off he told me he could give me a 10% discount. I was pleasantly taken aback and accepted his offer, and he told me later that the discount was supposed to be for cardholders of the Rock Corner membership or something. And I didn’t have one.

Thank you Mr. Rock Corner. I felt sufficiently cheered up for the next few hours for being in possession of Snow Patrol’s Eyes Open album. Somehow that phrase about how some girls go on a shopping frenzy to release some stress and steam felt right.

We went home, reaching our own houses at about 6.30pm.

The sun after the rain reminded me of an ‘after battle’ kinda feeling.

Shawn phoned at some point, asking me if I could buy dinner for them since I was going to his house later, and I said alright after 8.30pm I’d be there since I have to eat first. A simple miscommunication escalated into pissiness which I felt guilty for which further made me feel worse.

Andy and I sat in my car while waiting for the rest to arrive at Tanjung, and we talked. Most of the time it was me talking while he was SMSing away but it still felt nice. I don’t quite know how to put it, but it felt like someone actually listened to me while the rest probably put down or ignored my own words by their very own domination of a group’s conversation.

Quite a number of people turned up, and 60% of the conversation revolved around the working hysterics of Pizza Uno and how fat Maria is and how beautiful the Sam some of us never seen is and how particularly moody Ma’am is, 20% ghost stories and 20% others that don’t belong in the above two categories.

And 3 hours passed by, just like that.

Maybe it’s my own undoing, but this particular Friday is as sucky as it can get. A precious Friday.

Maybe when I get up the next morning, I’d be more concerned about how particularly hot the Vieras are in Final Fantasy XII than the glitch that is the Friday had on my life.