Thanks to unpublishable dilemmas, the past week had been filled with rare emotional outbursts on my part. These don’t happen often; see, there are very few things that get to me. My normal response to almost everything is a sarcastic remark, a dry joke, or a mildly offensive chuckle.
Anyway, if there’s anything I realized during last week’s Drama Queen Era, it’s that there are certain songs that I turn to for comfort deeper sorrow. Call me sick, but I do somewhat enjoy wallowing in misery, if only because these feelings of utter wretchedness come to me so rarely.
On top of the playlist is Pearl Jam’s “Black,” which I regularly listen to even when I’m not sad because of its raw beauty. Eddie Vedder’s anguished voice in this track never fails to move me, and I sometimes find myself close to tears whenever I listen to the song even though I can’t actually relate to it.
[Confession: I also listen to Katy Perry's "Thinking of You" and Beyonce's "If I Were a Boy" whenever I'm down, even though--as with "Black"--I can't really relate to the lyrics. It's the anguish in the voices, I think, that gets to me.]
Radiohead is perfect for moments of self-pity: if you want to feel worse about yourself, the band’s enigmatic lyrics and Thom Yorke’s stricken singing will do the trick in no time.
“Karma Police,” “Fake Plastic Trees,” and “No Surprises” are only some of the band’s saddest songs, and they have plenty.
The Magic Numbers’ “Undecided” and “I See You, You See Me” are staples in my Playlist of Woe. So is The Shins’ “Caring is Creepy.” The juvenile-sounding title is a misnomer, because this song has some of the most profound lyrics ever:
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason
It’s a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when we know we should fold
On rocks I dreamt of where we’d stepped
And of the whole mess of roads we’re now on.
By contrast, the lyrics of Modest Mouse’s “Dirty Fingernails” couldn’t be more mundane, but the careless yet haunting way the song was put together is perfect for pointless drama, i.e., emo tiemz.
What’s in your Playlist of Woe?
Filed under: music | 3 Comments
him
He did not appear to be the friendliest of people, and, as far as I could tell at the time, did not so much as glance at me that morning.
I noticed him immediately because he had long hair and looked vaguely familiar. But I was too tired and hung-over to form coherent sentences, much less make friends with anyone, because I had just come from a friend’s birthday party a few hours before that 7 a.m. trip to Subic for a seminar. Aside from the usual booze and hilarity, the party also included martial arts lessons and demonstrations of how to use a katana using an actual katana from the birthday boy. Obviously a party like that will leave one drained, so I spent the earlier part of the seminar’s first day either sleeping or wishing I was sleeping.
As the day wore on, however, I began to grow more aware of my surroundings, and yes, of him. Before I knew it, I had developed a crush.
I’ve never been the type of girl who freaks out and stutters in front of a romantic prospect, so I grabbed the opportunity to talk to him when it arrived in the form of predetermined seating arrangements that forced us to sit beside each other.
“So. What’s the rule? Do you have to fold those paper cranes by yourself, or can someone help you fold them?”
He answered without really looking at me, “Yeah, the thing is, you have to fold all of them yourself.”
I asked how many he had folded; there’s still hundreds more to be made, he said, and we left it at that. I got the impression that he wasn’t that interested in talking, so I shut up. At some point, however, he asked if he could have my paper so he could fold them into cranes.
And I said yes.
The next three months that followed that small talk about paper cranes were the most interesting three months of my life. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling such a wide range of emotions in so short a period–happiness, desolation, excitement, confusion, confidence, doubt. I liked him, but I didn’t know if he felt the same way. I was fairly certain we were headed somewhere; but to where, I wasn’t sure.
All the questions in my mind, however, were laid to rest on December 24. On that day, only one question mattered: the one he asked me, even while he was hundreds of miles away. The one I had been waiting for the whole time.
And I said yes.
It’s been more than four months since I asked him about those paper cranes, and nearly a month since he asked me that life-changing question. But the feeling’s only gotten–and it’s still getting–stronger. No one knows what the future holds, but I have a feeling that things will fall into place, the way they always do with the two of us. One thing’s for certain: for him, I’ll never get tired of saying yes.
Filed under: life | 4 Comments
Tags: boyfriend, love
magic
You know you’re news people when you name your bumpcar groups “Team Cory” and “Team Marcos.”
That’s exactly what we did when my fellow reporters and I trooped to the Enchanted Kingdom last Sunday to ride “simple machines” (Dreo’s words, not mine, lol). T’was a day full of realizations of how much we’ve grown, how much de-stressing we needed, and how noisy some of us can be.
Mark and Joseph both insisted that I ride with them at the Space Shuttle since I didn’t look nervous about the ride at all. I gotta tell you, it’s not that I was “brave.” I was just too preoccupied thinking about how much I miss The Boyfriend to be bothered by the idea of riding the giant roller coaster.
Post-Space Shuttle shot
Afterwards we got ourselves soaked at the Jungle Log Jam and made fools of ourselves:
To cap the day, we rode the Wheel of Fate. The breeze and the view got us uttering statements like “The Enchanted Kingdom truly is magical” and “Ang buhay talaga parang gulong…” Er, you get the idea.
All pictures from Mike Custodio
Filed under: life | 2 Comments
clash of the titans
The following statement should put to rest any question as to why I turned out so odd: aside from faithfully watching zombie movies, a television series on vampires, and scripted wrestling, reading about Greek and Roman mythology was one of my favorite activities as a kid.
Thanks to my dad, who gave me Edith Hamilton’s “Mythology” for my 11th birthday, I became that geeky, annoying kid who took up half the English class to narrate the circumstances that surrounded the Trojan War. Whenever I fancied a boy who didn’t like me back, I would think of myself as Psyche–admired but never loved, until Cupid himself set his eyes upon her. I knew about all the other lovers, too: Pygmalion and Galatea, Pyramus and Thisbe, and of course, who could forget the musician Orpheus who traveled to the underworld to bring his love back to life?
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, then, that I squealed like a little girl who just got the pink kitchen set she’s been dying to have when I saw the trailer of the remake of “Clash of the Titans” a few weeks ago.
I’ll always love the 1981 original, which I’ve seen at least thrice…
…but man, this looks so badass. I can’t wait!
Filed under: books, film, life | 3 Comments
Tags: clash of the titans, mythology
bring it on
When I was unwittingly sent to Pangasinan in October to cover the impact of typhoon “Pepeng,” I had more than a few worries. I had gone out of my house that Thursday thinking I would only be going to Pampanga to cover a noontime press conference; instead I got dragged further north, and I had no idea when we would be returning to Manila.
So how was the “Pepeng” coverage? I had no extra clothes and was not able to change for a couple of days. I did not bring my laptop because I thought I would be going back to the office right after the presscon, and hence had no Internet connection. I had just lost my Motorazr phone then, so I was using my crappy old phone that died periodically. Also, I didn’t know shit about Pangasinan, except that my grandfather used to live in Dagupan City.
And I had plans for Friday–I had promised someone I would go with him to an event where he could possibly receive an award. That wasn’t something that happened everyday, and missing it really upset me.
While I stayed calm and collected for most of the trip even though we were in the middle of floods and non-stop rain, there was a good couple of minutes when I cried over the phone to my friend when my unpreparedness started to take its toll on me. Looking back now, however, I can’t be more thankful that I was ushered into that coverage.
I learned to make the best of what I (and my companions) had. I occasionally borrowed a fellow reporter’s laptop so I could go online, called and visited sources even in the middle of the night, and texted whole stories, quotes and all.
I met so many: fellow media practitioners out to get the news no matter what, ordinary citizens braving the flood just to go to their jobs that will put food on the table, children dancing in the rain.
I got a glimpse of how disasters can bring out both the worst and the best in some people. The worst, in some of those who pushed even mothers carrying their hungry, crying babies as they scrambled for food and relief goods. The best, in the countless volunteers and officials who took the time and the effort to go into the most remote parts of the province just to extend assistance to those in need.
The year 2010 may see me going off to more unfamiliar places to cover disasters–natural, political, or whatnot. After all the storms I went through in 2009, however, I’ve learned my lessons, and I’m now more than ready to tackle whatever may arrive.
* * *
Some other stories I did in the past year that I liked:
1. A story on the informal settlers along the Manggahan Floodway and how their stay there could have affected flooding in the metro
2. A feature on Noynoy-Gibo politics in Tarlac that somewhat delved into the Cojuangcos’ history
3. A spot news report on the House of Representatives’ historic approval of House Resolution 1109
4. My first attempt at writing news about music: a story about the 2009 NU Rock Awards
5. And yes, a little something about how the leader of a notorious gang wanted to look like BB Gandanghari
//
Filed under: life | 2 Comments
Tags: house resolution 1109, NU rock awards, pepeng
original scroll
I completely forgot to blog about this precious find, which I got from my favorite bookstore Bookay-Ukay a few months ago:
Original scroll, baby. I bet reading it will require lots of paracetamol by my bedside, but I don’t care, I’ll go through this…someday. When I’ve finished all the other books still lined up for my literary consumption.
In the meantime, here is the New York Times’ review of the text that eventually became the novel of the Beat Generation.
Filed under: books | Leave a Comment
Tags: beatniks, books, jack kerouac
Happy Christmas
The year 2009, in general, has not been a good year for many. Too many deaths–there were those who lost their lives due to “Ondoy” and “Pepeng,” there was the Maguindanao Massacre, and I’m certain countless other fathers, mothers, and children passed away (Michael Jackson included).
I personally lost someone very special to me: my Lolo Romy, who was my favorite grandparent. But I’m very thankful that God did not let this year end on a tragic note, at least not for me and many of the people I love.
I’m not the best Catholic and I never will be, but my personal faith in God is absolute. And so I am extremely grateful that despite all my sins and mistakes–and man, were there plenty–He gave me what I had nearly given up hope on.
I’m looking forward to leaving this tragic year behind and moving on: to a blooming career, to more good times with loves ones, and, I believe, to forever with the boy I love.
Happy Christmas, everyone. Spread the love beyond this season.
Filed under: life | 3 Comments
Tags: boyfriend, christmas, love
My mother has just finished adorning the interiors and exteriors of the house with every Christmas decoration possible. We’ve got the requisite plastic Christmas tree inside the house; outside, sparkly red Christmas balls hang on some trees in the garden.
The front screen door has exactly 51 small bells, I kid you not, while the door to the den has 10. Even the stair railings have bells on them.
“Para tayong sari-sari store,” one of my sisters complained as she held up two “Merry Christmas!” signs that my mom had asked her to put up somewhere. I’m not sure where the signs went, but I won’t be surprised if I see them posted on the gate tomorrow morning.
All in all, though, we’re pretty jolly this season. Or at least I’m making a conscious effort not to go on Scrooge mode despite the string of disasters that happened this year and the fact that this is our first Christmas without my Lolo Romy, who passed away last January after a long battle with Alzheimer’s Disease. There are just so many other things to be thankful for, and other things to look forward to.
Anyway, I had initially intended to write a Christmas wish list, but I’ve come to realize that all I want for Christmas–aside from world peace–is money, glorious money. And maybe a chainsaw, ’cause you never know when zombies might strike. Come to think of it, though, my family would probably be sufficiently warned–thanks to the bells on the doors.
Filed under: life | 3 Comments
Tags: christmas
this is my destiny
A couple of weeks ago, the office had an overnight team-building trip to Tanauan in Batangas. The whole experience was pretty memorable, but my favorite moment was when an officemate who checked out the bedrooms early said in disbelief, “Oh my God, like, our rooms are extremely predetermined.”
This was my destiny:
‘Nuff said.
Filed under: life | 6 Comments
Tags: work
starting with the cullens
yes, vampires and the occult were significant parts of my childhood
There was a time, I was 13 I think, when a part of me actually believed I was–waitforit–a vampire slayer. I was the fastest runner in my batch, I could jump incredibly high, and I could open softdrink bottles when nobody else could.
Why having those abilities led me to conclude that I must be some mythical figure destined to battle evil, I do not know. But it was fun for a while, because my bestfriends joined the fantasy. I had a sheepish Willow (my shy best friend H), and a goofy Xander (my sometimes-boyfriendish-friend J). I had a yaya who “taught” the “spells.” All that was missing was some stakes and crossbows. And of course, vampires.
Filed under: books | 6 Comments
Tags: buffy the vampire slayer, high school, vampires
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