The distance from the house to Malolos, Bulacan: 35.77 miles. (And that’s assuming you travel in a straight line; The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.)
So why would I bother with the trip? Because it was Sheila‘s birthday last week, and I don’t get to go to Bulacan everyday, so why not? (To note, her house is too far, in fact, that Google Earth maps haven’t taken a proper detail photo of their area. It’s just a mess of greenery.)
I left the house at 12:24. An fx ride, a wrong train ride, another train ride, an fx ride and two toll booths later, me and a couple of other common friends were in Malolos Crossing. We were just a tryke ride away from the destination.
To sum up the whole ordeal: Sheila, Sheila’s friend’s baby, Angela, food and conversation, drinking more when I realized that I was drunk, a spritz of clam juice, a spritz of Monmon’s perfume, 2nd-degree burn number 3 for the year, waking up at 3 and realizing that I forgot to go home, lost my earring, leaving at 5 am, touchdown in Antipolo by 7:20 and the batcave by 8:15 AM, Sunday.
(Fellow attendees can fill in the blanks.)
It was fun. I went to Bulacan and all I got was this lousy 2nd-degree burn. :p
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