Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Two Marks, Two Billies and the One and Only Chris


To say that meeting Chris Botti has got to be one of the highlights of my year is such a gross understatement.

The first time I saw the billboard heralding that Chris Botti, trumpeter extraordinaire, will be coming to Manila, I knew that I absolutely had to watch him. My plan was just to simply watch the show, maybe get a CD signed, have a good time. That was all.

But thanks to a good friend (who will definitely receive a wonderful Christmas gift from me), not only was I able to watch the show from a good vantage point, I actually got to meet him in person, shake his hand (which will remain unwashed in my head) sit a few feet away from him, stare into his eyes as he looked directly into mine while answering my inane questions, and then have his face a few inches away from mine while we had our picture taken.

He was loquacious, charming, witty, passionate and drop dead gorgeous. Imagine Hugh Jackman, Chris Martin, Julian Spade, David Beckham and Sting all rolled into one. And he wasn’t even playing yet!

Someone asked him if he had any reservations about coming to the Philippines, and his face was like, “Why?”. So we told him that a lot of foreign acts backed out of going here because of the “instability” and he quickly says, ”It’s an honor to be asked to play here.” And he follows it up by saying that for him it would still be an honor if someone asks him to play in a backyard.

This is one man who is absolutely passionate and dedicated to his music. He has no other hobbies except yoga and chess and the latter he hasn’t even played in a while. This is one man who started out playing in the mean streets of New York and has now played with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Paul Simon and Sting.

It was actually because of Sting that I first fell in love with him. He was Sting’s trumpeter during his Brand New Day tour. And he isn’t stingy in expressing his gratitude for Sting (yes, even his close friends call him Sting apparently) for giving him his first big break.

All these thrilling emotions I felt even before I first heard him play live. So imagine how I felt as he started playing the opening notes to their first song. “Hopelessly enamored” is the phrase that comes to mind if I analyzed what I felt during that entire concert. Not only was he an amazing trumpeter, he was humble enough to give the stage to his amazingly talented band: Grammy winning pianist Billy Childs, cool as a cucumber bassist Mark “whose surname escapes me at the moment”, charismatic and energetic guitarist Mark Whitfield and the expressive and “deceptive-looking” (because he looks like a basketball player or a gangster) drummer Billy Kilson.

Whoever said that Chris Botti’s music was “pogi jazz”, have you even listened to his music. He may be handsome as sin, but his music is anything but “pa-cute”. And please, don’t ever ever ever ever compare him to Kenny G. or I may have to maim you for life.

Friday, October 27, 2006

of boys and Beatles

flashback to 1993...

the scene is set in the green fields of my high school campus (funny, almost all my memories of high school seem to be grainy and fuzzy)

i don't remember exactly what we were celebrating that day, but i know we were gathered for some kind of school activity that requires each year level to prepare some kind of performance

so this band walks on stage (their name escapes me at this moment, it's frustrating) and one look at the vocalist, and i fell instantly in like. of course i was at this boy-crazy age so i fall in like with some new guy every five seconds.

then they start playing the opening strains of a song that seems vaguely familiar....and then he opens his mouth to serenade the crowd with this:

You don't realize how much I need you.
Love you all the time and never leave you.
Please come on back to me.
I'm lonely as can be. I need you.

And in that instant, I am lost. Thus begins a three year unrequited imaginary love affair with this guy who I shared a total of one conversation my entire….wait, that’s not the point of this post

Because of that teeny bopper crush on that guy who will remain nameless (you never know who’s reading my blog), I started listening once again to The Beatles. Of course almost all kids of my generation grew up listening to The Beatles because of our parents. But as I grew older, my musical taste leaned towards Debbie Gibson and Menudo (okay, this was way before I firmly established my musical identity, so I’m excused).

And so began my renewed love affair with John, Paul, George and Ringo which remains strong until this very day

Flash forward to last night, during Beatles Night at 70s Bistro.

My newest crush on the block, Johnoy Danao formerly of Bridge, starts strumming the opening chords of I Need You and at that moment, I was a goner again.

And amidst all the “spirituality” and brilliance of George Harrison, while smoke wafted through the air and everyone was gulping down alcohohol like there was no tomorrow, that moment was the most perfect moment for me.

I remember exactly the bittersweet feelings of liking a boy who didn’t know you existed, of sitting in a chair with my Dad, listening to our cassette tape collection of all Beatles albums, of swaying to the voice of Filipino rock gods playing Fab Four songs year after year, of watching the Beatles episode of Powerpuff Girls and laughing my heart out, of trying to mouth the words to all their songs whenever I hear them wherever I am

Here’s to cute boys and Yoko Jojo and 70s Bistro…and of course The Beatles




Thursday, October 26, 2006

my favorite comment of the month

kirby says:

"you look like a misplaced chess piece"

for visual, please refer to picture on your left...

wish list

it doesn't have to be my birthday and christmas is so far away, but it's nice to wish out loud

book wish list
neil gaiman's fragile things
nick hornby's a long way down and the complete polysyllabic spree
marianne robinson's gilead
kazuo ishiguro's when we were orphans
haruki murakami's wind up bird chronicles

music wish list
the dawn's tulad ng dati
rivermaya's isang ugat isang dugo
chris botti's to love again

other stuff wish list
moleskin notebook
gift certificate to sm to buy "professional" looking clothes
a million pesos to jumpstart my dream

'in dreams begin responsibility'...If there was no power to imagine no responsibility can arise."
- Yates and Murakami

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

there is a fine line...

between being concerned about someone and judging someone
please tread carefully

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

am i going crazy?


if i always hear my message alert tone (twisted nerve from kill bill) even when no one is texting me?

if i talk aloud to no one in particular while writing emails, letters and even blog posts? (im mouthing my words here, coz im in public and other people might freak out)

if i keep on tripping on things that are not there and banging body parts unexplicably? (hence, the three band-aids im sporting now)

if i keep a running movie in my head starring wentworth miller and julia stiles?

if i can't sleep at night because i keep thinking that there are ants crawling over me and so i turn on the lights but cant find any and so i try to sleep again but can still feel something crawling on me?

if i keep imagining snow patrol's gary lightbody singing to me over a cup of coffee?

or maybe i just have too much caffeine in my system...

Monday, October 23, 2006

emo-ing in intramuros


so thanks to two of my officemates, emo has become my word of the year
before, i just used it to describe the music of dashboard confessional, but now, every dramatic photo, every emotional song, every sentimental statement seems to have the word attached to it

but that's not the point, im just rambling here

so there we were in intramuros on a sunday afternoon, and all we could think about was taking as many emo pictures as we could, without neglecting the fact that we came there to take pictures of intramuros, the place, for an actual project

i've been a regular intramuros goer for the past four or so years since our church and fullcup is there. and whenever i feel sad or tense, one of the ways i unwind is to walk the walls alone. i may get sunburnt and my feet have calluses,but it's worth it just to walk it out. but what i've never had is a proper "photo shoot" in a place that is one of the most photograph-able places in manila. so i took advantage of this time to take as many artistic and dramatic photos as i can

but somwhere along the way, i began to experience something deeper. i began to rediscover the rich spirit of history that permeates the place. there wasnt any tour guide talking about what happened here in 1861 or that Rizal took his final steps in this place, etc etc. but you can feel it everytime you touched a piece of the wall. it transcended the heat, the thirst and the excitement that i felt as we went around the walls. these walls were built with the sweat and blood of our forefathers. in these streets, voices silently cried out for freedom. this place was witness to the birth of a new breed of Filipino and the slow agonizing death of the old one

so yes, the afternoon turned out to be emo, but in a far different way than i expected it to be

and so with my Intramuros project about to start soon, it's very apt that i am now inclined to dig deeper into this new-found interest that i have, and maybe along the way, regain the pride in who i really am, which got lost somwhere between here and disillusionment city

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Vanity...,my favorite sin

So I've finished my first week of my first ever serious diet and I'm just about ready to climb the walls
This is the first time I've been really serious (except for that slip-up last Tuesday. damn you chocolate fountain!!!) and with my officemate as my "guardian", I am even more determined to do this
And when I think about all the clothes in my closet that I cannot wear, then I am even more impatient to lose all this weight that I carry around
So yeah, you can say that vanity is the number one reason for this urge to go back to my slim, petite self (yes, i was once that. and i have pictures to prove it)

and this isn't just a crash diet, like a lot of my diets have been before
i will follow this through to the bitter end
and i guess it's just the first few weeks that are so darn difficult
so forgive me if i excessively complain in the next few days

but, as my college kuya used to say,
"if you're vain, don't complain"

so there you go......

goodbye pizzas, chocolates, sisigs, ice creams, cakes and pastries.
i'll be seeing you sometime soon, but not as often as i would want to
we had some great, gut-wrenching moments together, and i will always treasure them
but now, i have my vanity to feed, so forgive me

Saturday, October 21, 2006

wouldn't it be simpler


if there were no expectations whatsoever?
then there would be fewer disappointments
and more surprises

and is it so wrong to not live up to someone's expectations of you?

or maybe it's all in my head

Friday, October 20, 2006


last night...

i felt the Christmas air for the first time.
and with that air comes a sense of hope and lonesomeness and giddiness all rolled into one.
the air smells like puto bumbong and carols and hugs and chocolates and also a suffocating awareness of being alone even when in a crowd
but i will choose to ignore that feeling and concentrate on the good vibes

yep...Christmas has officially begun for me.
i just hope it doesnt end up with me banging my head on the wall again, like it has been for the past couple of years

i shall remain optimistic. and my puto bumbong awaits me. and maybe someone will hold my hand at the end of it all...

but if not, at least i enjoyed the lights

Thursday, October 19, 2006

My favorite girl...

This is Anja (pronounced anya), the daughter of my officemate. Her favorite colors are pink and yellow. She knows all the words to High School Musical songs. She utters the sentence "You're so dedicated" even though she doesnt know what dedicated means. She asked her mom if she could not be my boss for one day so she could play with me. She think I'm actually funny. She's adorably smart and witty for her age. She rolls her eyes at boys that she doesn't like. She loves Sam Milby and she and her mom scream everytime they see him on Tv. She makes greeting cards for all the people in the office. She calls her mom everyday just to tell her about her day and to hear stories. She tells me I'm her favorite officemate. I call her onion. She calls me eggplant. We call her Mom tomato.

I love talking to her because things are uncomplicated and fun.
Someday I'm going to teach her to read Margaret Atwood, Neil Gaiman and Banana Yamamoto
I'm gonna make her listen to Up Dharma Down and U2
I'm gonna bring her to the National Museum and to the Planetarium
I'm gonna warn her about boys and their dishonorable intentions
Then I'm gonna tell her that they're not all that bad
I'm gonna tell her about God's grace and how it saved me from the darkest pits of despair

I look forward to sharing tears, laughter and stories with her in the future
And hopefully by that time, she would still think I'm actually funny Posted by Picasa

Saturday, October 14, 2006

to my very own meredith grey


im only starting to get back on my feet myself, so i dont know if these musings will make any sense. and im too shy to tell them to you directly so here's hoping you'll read this and may help you in this path you're on right now. and whether you should get off this path or not

and forgive me if my thoughts arent organized...i think it's better for me to write unrehearsed and unplanned

i dont think anyone ends up being where they're really "supposed to be". i know we made grandiose plans of conquering our respective fields by the time we're 25. or having a decent husband and cute adorable children by the time we're 28.

okay, we're turning 28 next year and i dont think we're anywhere near those goals. does this mean we're failures? that we should knock our heads on the nearest wall for failing "the plan"? far from it, i think

the last three years were a sort of zombie state for me, where i didnt really know what i wanted to be, or i thought i wanted to be this but it turns out it's not mine to begin with. and then when i lost whatever it is that i thought i wanted, i spent the next few months moping and wondering why my life wasnt turning out the way i was expecting it to

so i could say ive been down your path, in a much different way, but still the same path

and this is what i've learned. dont expect things to turn out according to plan. it's not a saddening thought. i've learned to be flexible, to adjust to the myriad turns that life has been giving me. and to not push and push for something that doesnt want to give.

they say persistence pays off. i say, uhm, not always. if it's not working no matter how hard you try, then maybe it's time to try something else? yeah, there's an issue of commitment there (which at this point in my life im still having trouble really understanding) and i know that things are sometimes meant to be hard, but it shouldnt be that hard right?

and another thing i've learned here is that sometimes, you have to take some time off from doing something that you used to love but now is getting to be such a heavy burden. somwhere along the way, after you've stepped back, you'll find yourself going back to it and loving it once again. and if not, then move on

all of these ideas are not theoretical and hypothetical. cliche as it may sound, im speaking from something ive painfully and fully experienced. and im just getting out of this place, truth be told.

i never expected to be here at this point in my life. but somehow, i think this is much better. because it is a life that is not borne out of childish dreams and fantasies. but a life that has been through disappointments, aches and groans that were often left unsaid. and this is a life that is going to get through more of the same, but hopefully with a little more wisdom and happiness and love.

here's to more of the real life

Wednesday, October 11, 2006


halfway between idealism and cynicism

I’ve been aware for some time now that I’m not that “young” anymore, well, relatively speaking that is. And people around me have no problem reminding me of that fact every once in a while, especially when I start saying, “Do you remember this show/song?” and then they look at me with that incredulous look in their eyes and say, “Ahem, that was way before our time.”

I don’t really mind it so much, because I know and have accepted that one of the basic facts of this world is that you will always and always be older than somebody, just as someone will always be older than you.

But this weekend, I began to realize some things that I knew that I know but I’ve never really taken a long, hard look at. Okay, I admit, it was brought about by going out with 3 young colleagues the other night and feeling so alienated by all the party music and people around me. And even though I had a sorta kinda good time, all I wanted was to curl up in a chair somewhere and read Kafka on the Shore. And when I told the guys that maybe we should go home at around 1AM, they laughed and said that the night was actually just beginning for them. I truly felt like the older sister chaperoning her younger siblings somewhere.

So it got me thinking about all the things I’m too old to enjoy/believe in. Some are sad realizations, some are just plain realistic.

I’m past the age of idealism. While I’m not yet totally cynical, I find the idealism of some of the people around me too stifling. I literally feel a hand clutching my neck when they insist that things SHOULD be like this, that people SHOULD act like this. My dears, wait till you graduate from college and work in the real world, and then tell me with a straight face that it is actually so easy to be what you think you should be. If you can still believe that after five years, then good for you. But if you can’t, welcome to the real world dude.

I’m past the age when I could dress like up like an 18 year old everyday. I used to think I could get away with it because of a certain lack of height that makes me look younger than I really am. Every once in a while, I still could, just for the heck of it. But I wouldn’t want to be one of those people who are laughed at because they’re apparently trying to recapture their youth by dressing up like they’re still teenagers. And in my line of work, if I want to be taken seriously, I cannot wear jeans and a mickey mouse t-shirt.

I’m past the age when I want to go out and party and meet people in bars. Okay, I have to admit, I was never this person. The idea is totally abhorrent to me (no offense to those who do this, it’s just not for me). More and more I want to just sit somewhere and read or talk and drink rather than drink the night away while techno music is pounding away on the speakers.

I’m past the age when I believe that people could start doing or stop doing something if they really wanted to, at the drop of a hat. I used to really believe that if my Mom loved us enough, she would stop smoking. Or if my friend really wanted to, he could start being considerate of other people’s feelings. But I’ve seen people who really and sincerely want to change, but they still deal with the same struggles for years. And they are not lesser people in my eyes. I may not totally understand what they’re dealing with, but I have a sense of what struggle is, because I deal with it too, albeit on a different level. What I hate are people who are less gracious to people who they see are failing miserably in their struggles. But then I think that in their own way, they are also struggling for dear life and are drowning because of their judgmental and ungracious attitude. So, I should cut them a little slack too.

I’m past the age of flings. Okay, I’ve never really had a fling. Technically. But the idea of going into something just for the fun of it, or just because someone’s there and available and interested, is so distasteful. I’ve had little and enormous heartbreaks already, why would I want to continue on adding to that? I cannot say that I am still hopeful that the love of my life will come along and sweep me off my feet. But I still wouldn’t exchange the possibility of that for the pleasure of now. Okay, so in this respect, I still have a little idealism after all.

But even with these realizations, I know at the end of the day, when I go to home to Laguna, when my Lola hugs me with her frail body, when I snuggle beside my Mom in her bed, when my brother and I playfully baby talk to each other, there I will always and forever be a little girl.