Today, Bianca went to war.
Okay, it was only Airsoft. But it was seriously frickin awesome, especially when you've got friends for teammates and teammates who become friends. There were 13 of us, so we divided into groups of six with me--being the skinny midget who had no muscles--being the 7th player, the "princess" as it were. (Someone else was shorter than me, but they thought I was the weaker, girlier one. Great.)
We played five games, each about five to ten minutes in length (fifteen at most) but felt like an hour. The sun was damnably hot at 10:30 in the morning, and you could literally feel the sweat dropping down your face. Our combatant attires didn't help either. We wore a bulletproof vest over our shirt and jacket, tied a plaid scarf around our necks, capped our precious heads with a beanie, and covered our faces with a mask. It felt like being roasted alive. And then we picked up our rifles. As I hefted mine up, I thought of rethinking my feminist views. Women ARE as good as men. But sometimes, there are times when you have to curtsy and let the men do the dirty work. Including marching off to war with heavy rifles.
So we were in this large secluded farm in the middle of nowhere, and there were tall, tall grasses all around us. It was an awesome feeling, crouching down the ground and feeling the crunch crunch crunch of your teammates' feet as they move in closer for the kill. (I was a cautious one, always looking for a bigger aim before shooting. They just...shoot. Wish I could do that.) I got hit on my hand (which reddened like a mosquito bite), my back, my face (thank God for masks!), and my ribs (from a ricocheting pellet). War wounds.
I won't describe the whole thing to you, but I tell you, it was so worth it. We paid Php360 all in all: transportation, the body armor, the rifles and their pellets, and the venue. In exchange, we got war wounds, grass stains, pain, and in my case, broken eyeglasses (which I didn't take off otherwise I wouldn't be able to see what I was shooting at, so when I took off my mask, it went along and broke). But we had the time of our lives. That is something you can't pay enough for.
Hmmm. Shall we try paintball or NERF next time?
Okay, it was only Airsoft. But it was seriously frickin awesome, especially when you've got friends for teammates and teammates who become friends. There were 13 of us, so we divided into groups of six with me--being the skinny midget who had no muscles--being the 7th player, the "princess" as it were. (Someone else was shorter than me, but they thought I was the weaker, girlier one. Great.)
We played five games, each about five to ten minutes in length (fifteen at most) but felt like an hour. The sun was damnably hot at 10:30 in the morning, and you could literally feel the sweat dropping down your face. Our combatant attires didn't help either. We wore a bulletproof vest over our shirt and jacket, tied a plaid scarf around our necks, capped our precious heads with a beanie, and covered our faces with a mask. It felt like being roasted alive. And then we picked up our rifles. As I hefted mine up, I thought of rethinking my feminist views. Women ARE as good as men. But sometimes, there are times when you have to curtsy and let the men do the dirty work. Including marching off to war with heavy rifles.
So we were in this large secluded farm in the middle of nowhere, and there were tall, tall grasses all around us. It was an awesome feeling, crouching down the ground and feeling the crunch crunch crunch of your teammates' feet as they move in closer for the kill. (I was a cautious one, always looking for a bigger aim before shooting. They just...shoot. Wish I could do that.) I got hit on my hand (which reddened like a mosquito bite), my back, my face (thank God for masks!), and my ribs (from a ricocheting pellet). War wounds.
I won't describe the whole thing to you, but I tell you, it was so worth it. We paid Php360 all in all: transportation, the body armor, the rifles and their pellets, and the venue. In exchange, we got war wounds, grass stains, pain, and in my case, broken eyeglasses (which I didn't take off otherwise I wouldn't be able to see what I was shooting at, so when I took off my mask, it went along and broke). But we had the time of our lives. That is something you can't pay enough for.
Hmmm. Shall we try paintball or NERF next time?
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