Friday, September 25, 2009

my mother wasn’t a stage mom

I wasn’t even allowed to sing at home. They didn’t know I could sing, at home, until a teacher told them I was supposed to represent our class.

Like most families, both my parents had to work in order for us to keep afloat. It felt like shit growing up, especially when I had classmates who always had their parents with them on school affairs. I always had one parent missing. It was a real bummer. I was an only child, and I felt more isolated that way. I had classmates whose mothers stayed and waited for them until the end of the class. They weren’t stay-at-home moms, but they weren’t working moms either. They were waiting moms. They’d chat the whole day with the other waiting moms up until their kids got out of class, and sometimes, when they had real fun chatting with the other moms, the kids could go and play some more until they were done chatting. My mother wasn’t like that. My mom had better things to do. She had to work. I had to study. I work so you can study.

Oh yeah, and money was an issue with my Dad.

I also had minimal supervision when doing homework. I’d go home, turn on the tv and work on my school assignments, while cooking rice (I could barely reach the stove then) and waiting for my parents.

My mother took a lot of pictures of me when I was growing up. It was her hobby and her source of income. I was kind of obsessed with myself back then since I was the only kid in the house and all of the albums had pictures of me. There are no new pictures in the house. It suddenly stopped, the habit, the fun, of taking pictures when she died.

But I felt how protective my mother was when I hit puberty. Can’t get out of the house, can’t play with boys, can’t stay out of the house. It made me think, well, what do you know, I have parents! They actually care, all of a sudden. While she wasn’t the fix-me-up kind of mother who dolled me up all the time, she made sure I was presentable. It took a while before I could pick out my own clothes, on my own.

I love my mom. I don’t mind that she didn’t have as much time as she wanted to spend with me. I know she’d stay longer if she could. I just thought. I just wished she could’ve stayed longer.

Monday, September 21, 2009

no, i'm afraid we can't stop time

Henry: I don't want you waiting your whole life.

i saw the movie before i got to read the book. i've heard of the book through a friend but i never really got to read the book until after my birthday. you know how it is when they turn a book into movie. they pull out all the stocks to change the covers with pictures of the stars of the movie. that went on for a while and then of course, people kept on buying the book just because of the movie because they couldn't get it without reading the book first. then the book comes out again.

watching the movie without having read the book, not having an idea what the story was about except that Eric Bana time travels and Rachel McAdams plays the woman who has to wait for him each and every time. i kinda knew what to expect.

i liked the film because it tried its best to stay true to the essence of the book in the span of an hour and a half (roughly) and it found its way into my heart despite the fact that i didn't really get to read the book first.


Clare: It's always that way, isn't it?

when i finally got to read the book, i was amazed at how the filmmakers tried to be true to the book. of course, making the movie meant skipping and editing some parts like when they did About A Boy, Bridget Jones's Diary, Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings, to name a few books translated into the big screen. but you don't really need to read the book to cross-reference the movie.

i liked the book because, having seen the movie, it put together some of the parts they kinda skipped without missing the point. i know that didn't make much sense (just like what i'm feeling right now).

they meet halfway. in the present, Henry has no idea who Clare is when she's been waiting for him her whole life. he doesn't get to visit him until later in his future with her so that they still end up together. it's funny how time is that way. i didn't seem to get it at first.

i truly wish i could stop time or at least, go back to those things in my life i wish to change. unfortunately, like Henry, there are things you do have to witness over and over again but still feel powerless to make the difference. i don't really want to wait my whole life, just like Clare, because there are things that won't happen until you work on them for them to materialize.

in the end, time wins.

the movie doesn't end the same way the book does but i guess, it has to end some way and the audience is left hoping that some day, they will see each other again. it is a love story after all.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

I danced with a celebrity? Seriously?

So I went out with my friend Thursday night because my boss has been pressuring me to take some leave days. He knows how hard I work so encourages me to go out, reasoning that I shouldn’t let work control my life. And that’s what I did. I went out.

They didn’t have the production I usually go to every third Thursday of the month so I told my friend we’d go to wherever she thought would be fun to go to on a Thursday night. We went to this bar where they have tolerable music playing (I had to stop myself from pointing out the mistakes made by the band – they were ok, I just prefer listening to something else.) and cheap margarita pitchers. The vocalist was cute and his singing was relatively okay. I think I even remember him smiling and saying “hi!” to me after the performance. Then they played dance music and I had to stand up and dance along with my friend because I didn’t want her to look stupid dancing on her own plus the lesbian couple in the other table probably thought she was trying to seduce me with her dancing.

So the other people danced with us. Two pitchers of margarita and 3 shots of tequila later, I was just swinging and dancing my ass off. I rarely dance. If I had a choice between sitting, drinking and smoking, and dancing, I would rather not dance. Not only do I think I’m not very good at it, I think I’m already way passed that age where it’s something I like to do. So if I lost my balance and fell on the floor, which is funny, I shouldn’t feel so bad, right? It was embarrassing but my friend just kept on comforting me by saying it’s okay because Joseph Bitangcol was there to catch my fall anyway. He picked me up. literally.


After much research, I found out that he is a reality talent show discovery and then later on became an actor for a local TV network (you can tell that I don’t really follow local TV, much less have the time to check it out), was Sandara Park’s (who?)boyfriend and starred in a gay movie entitled Walang Kawala.



He was attractive and he was a good dancer, actually. I just wasn’t really paying attention. It was an experience, to say the least. He really isn’t covered in the sphere of my universe, I'm sorry.

Needless to say, I will try to avoid dancing as much as I can. Drinking is okay, as long as I don’t really let myself go. I normally have a pretty high tolerance for alcohol. It’s the dancing that’s driving me insane. I'm really not cut out for the tugish-takish scene anymore. It would've been fun if Sam was there. I wouldn't mind falling if he picked me up. If only he would pick me.

Friday, September 11, 2009

my boss has cancer. SO?

my boss was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

i've been wanting to write about this for the longest time but i haven't gotten any and i don't really know how to go about it. of course, i've dealt with cancer in the past. the feeling is still the same.

this is a man whom i report to. he has become like a father to me. a brother. a friend.

of course it hurts.

i hate it when people ask me if he's sick and when i ask them who their source was they can't, won't, tell me who it is. it's not like he denies it and i help him cover it up. i will tell people what it is he is sick of, only when i know i can trust them but i won't deny if somebody already knows. i just don't like them saying this or that person said but they won't give me a fucking name. what, because they're embarrassed because they don't have better things to do other than talk about other people?!

don't get me wrong. i AM grateful that there are a lot of you out there who pray for my boss and hope he gets well. we all do, trust me. it's just that, right now, i feel like that there are so many people who feign sympathy for him, or for me, for having to deal with it.

my boss is the nicest person in the planet. he has helped a great number of people. i do feel terrible because there a lot of wretched people out there that to my mind deserve to get sick more and die. everytime he has to go for treatment, i wish i was the one taking it instead. i feel that bad about it. if only i can take away his pain. just as i wish i could take away my mother's when she was still alive. but i can't. so i just have to deal.

cancer isn't some weird rumor you can talk about in the smoking area when you're out venting about your customer or your asshole/bitch boss. it's real, it's painful and it's not something you wish on people, even your worse enemy. you'd like to give people the benefit of the doubt that no matter how destructive they may be or how cruel they can become, cancer isn't something that they should have because like each and everyone of us, they may have some redeeming value. so if you don't wish cancer on bad people, what more on those of pure heart, like my boss? he has helped so many people and they have learned so many things from him, things that they bring with them even if they're not with our company anymore. i've learned a lot just working with him. he believes in me and he made me believe in myself.

my boss is sick. it's a reality. he is not dying because he is fighting it and i am grateful to each and everyone of you who are concerned that he is losing weight and that he is sick. i am thankful to all of you who pray for my boss, my work father, my brother, my friend. his family has been very supportive of him, and we, at our company are equally mindful of his health. he doesn't wish to be treated any differently now that he is sick, just as he doesn't wish to be treated any differently because he is the boss. he is getting better and we all hope that his health will continue to get better.

so for crying out loud, stop blabbing about it. talking about him like some rumor isn't going to help him, but your prayers will. i'm not making this about me, but i also don't like people to use his being sick as an excuse to get to him for some hidden agenda. just pray. pray that he gets better.

thank you.

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

there's nothing original about OPM - i don't think it's music

i am getting to be really sick and tired of what i hear on the radio. seriously, is this the best that the local music scene has to offer? a bunch of cover versions of songs we've already heard soooo many times and really cheezy tagalog versions of songs we don't really even like.

I am so pissed off with the stuff I hear whenever I commute to and from the office. Of course, by the time I go home I should be too sleepy to care but they manage to penetrate my subconscious with this really shitty, poor excuse for what they call music. And it’s so hard for the better, more original bands to get a record deal and get their song on the radio.

What aggravates me further is the radio stations. Is it absolutely necessary for these people to hear their names mentioned on national radio, like it was the only source of their being, the meaning of their existence? And these announcers, can you be any less classy? Seriously, I do believe what they say – you are what, who you listen to. If you listen (and take in) a lot of crap, it won’t be too long until you’re crap yourself. Oh yeah, you still vote for the same stupid people. You put them in Congress, you put them in the Senate, you put them in the seat of absolute power here in the Philippines and then later on you complain that your standard of living isn’t getting any better.

You may say that, maybe, hey, the music that I listen to is more senseless than what you listen to. I totally get that. I respect the fact that there are other genres of music out there, that there are people who think they are being artistic by covering (plagiarizing, bastardizing) other people’s music, and sometimes reviving the old music could be a good thing, especially if it was superbly done. It gives the younger generation an idea of how the music industry was flourishing with ideas, wonderful ones, at a certain point in time. It may inspire them to come up with better ideas. An old song beautifully arranged to make it into something totally different, is like a new song altogether.

But that’s not what’s happening. These people take a foreign song, use the melody and put really crappy lyrics in the vernacular, if not put sexual innuendos for everyone, even the children to hear. Seriously, do you really want your kids singing along to stuff like that?

You’re right, I should get an IPOD or an MP3 player, that way, I don’t have to hear all this shit. Maybe I could bring my dusty old walkman with me, that way I don’t have to subject myself to really senseless radio announcers and really bad music. I’m entitled to my opinions and my music and you are entitled your right to shit and remain ignorant.