Had the strangest hangover story from last week. Call it a week of meeting ghosts and clouds in my coffee.

Anyway, tequila and tears... you know the drill. So woke up with a closet of a hangover. You know, its there, but doesn't quite make you throw up all over yourself. Just weird and, in my case, sniffly. So was getting ready for the day, which constituted attending the UST Postgraduate Course. There's something to be said about going back to your alma mater and encountering ghosts you made all by yourself, but that's an entirely different entry all by itself. So.

Woke up.

Got out of bed.

Dragged a comb across my head.

Only had no comb in the entire apartment.

So I had to get dressed, post tequila-ed, bleary eyed and hair in all directions possible (and man, my hair, not exactly very pretty these days, what with the lack of haircutting action) and crossed Piy Margal at 7 in the morning (not even a decent hangover waking time, yes) looking for a Springmaid comb from one sari-sari store to another. I was wearing an oversized gray shirt with small aliens printed everywhere.

Thankfully, I found my soulmate of a comb, in melon orange. Four sari-sari stores later.

Felt like a Christopher Nolan film where I'd go back in the apartment and find some bloodied hatchet or something.

So there. That was my film noir experience for the year.

*

Should you ask again, it will be a yes.