Photo Blog: 040213 Eight Hours
Tuesday, April 16, 2013 @ 12:07 PM | 0 comment(s)

Eight hours: that’s how long I spent my April 2nd with my friends Zandro Geral and Kathleen Valle. It wasn’t much, and the cash we pooled in wasn’t a lot, and we didn’t throw a bash and invite the neighbors to a free-beer party like we’re in high school. No, it didn’t go that way, because 1) the weather was too crappy to enjoy, 2) we’re basically broke, and 3) we’re not cool like those peers from movies with the pool party and red paper cups.

So no party, no cash, no fun; how the heck did it go?



First, we found ourselves in a place we didn’t think we’d find ourselves in: a sports arena, with its shining rubber of a running track, for a morning exercise. Surprising, right? We three are the kind of people who don’t bother with weight and its effect in the society. As long as we’re healthy and can still perform daily tasks effectively, why would we conform to society’s standard of inscrutable pounds? But, for some apparent reasons, we did find ourselves straining our legs off for a light jog. It didn’t go too well: We easily got tired and suddenly felt like we all had asthma. I don’t know whose idea it was, but nonetheless, we enjoyed our ridiculously awkward self decked in even ridiculous working clothes. It was actually embarrassing considering a lot of older peeps were better joggers than us.


Sweating is fantastic; what one needs to do to sweat is torture.



Second, we found ourselves in Zandro’s house for a little food experiment. I know, pigging out after a lame attempt at work out is a stupid idea, but we’re more of the fattening people than loosing-the-fat people. We cooked spaghetti and made some – *drum roll* – butterbeers! Yes, that famous drink from Hogsmeade that drives all witches and wizards crazy (I bet even the young Tom Riddle happily cried at the taste of it). We were all excited to try the recipe from MuggleNet and expand our Harry Potter experience.


So how did it taste? It was bad. Well, our first try was bad. The butterscotch used was too little for the water soda we had, so the taste of the latter dominated the drink. And you know what water soda tastes like? Rust – like blood. So we had to do it again and poured butterscotch like we were the boss of Butterbeer Inc. Now it tasted better. The third and final trial was too sweet that it felt like we just bought our ticket to Diabetes Express. (Too much butterbeer is bad, though. It makes you dizzy, what with all the butter used.)


I’m grateful for these eight hours; at least I’d have something to keep in memory to survive the long dog days of summer. And I’m so happy I finally tasted butterbeer (I’d rather taste the original still). Now I can say my favorite blog-ender: Butterbeer, anyone?

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