ex_groupie: trackback

Terno Au Go Go 7, at the Fort, was, in one word, preppie. Was texting her for directions and she told  me the place was ok kase "walang jologs."

Unlike Cubao X or Saguijo, Adidas Sports Kamp at Fort was not as accessible. Not to mention that the entrance fee jacked up twofold. I've seen all Ternos except for the first one. The worse was during my birthday Terno, supposed to be the Christmas Terno, when it rained. Hard. Naka-tiara pa ko non, damn.

It was something like Fete de la Musique 2004 at Libis when everyone gone home with squishy toes.

I was at The Fort with L and it was already Giniling Festival's set when we arrived. Wala man lang warm-up, jump around agad.

And then there was Sago.

I was convinced I was inlurvvv with Lourd de Veyra when I was in college. Hehe. I admittedly stalked him and I could practically fill out his bio-data for him.

Scary fan girl.

We met at the university writing center, I got interested in poetry because of da Lourd. Joined writing workshops, read Borroughs and Calvino, delved in all that jazz. I was obsessed bordering on violent. May naospital din dahil one summer, I was so drunkenly inlurvv and I and a mentor-writer fell on the cold damp concrete on Dapitan Street.

The next thing I know, he bloodily lost his front teeth and I was in hysterics, and we had to take him to the hospital for stitches.

Scary, scary groupie, yo.

Tapos after college, no more na. Deadma na.

I saw Lourd again in the office, he now contributes for the publication I am working for. My editor-friend was his college best friend pala. And there were other links. They practically do the stalking for me. I have a network that tells me where he is, what he does, how he's been.

I even did an article when their second album came out. Peace offering ba.

Di na ko fan, colleague na ko. Gee.

An AVP was shown while they played at Terno, 95% ng photos sa AVP, may kopya ko.

Beso-beso terms na kame ni Lourd. San ka pa. This is not to inspire would-be groupies to stalk or drunk-text till the stalkee change his phone number. I do not claim to be a success story, either. I am still a fan.

Mahal na mahal ko ung band. And it frustrated me that people were sitting when Sago played. They were mad during Giniling's set, took a rest during Sago's, and jumped back to their feet when Up Dharma Down played.

Anyway, if I die anytime soon, I want them to play a funebre on my funeral.

Fantasy ko pa rin Lourd hehe. And he knows it. Care.

a cinnamon story (repost from wonderland)

Minsan, tumawag ako kila Meann, Dad nya nakasagot, sabi sa 'kin "Anak, sandali lang ha?" Pare, sabi ko sa yo, tumulo na lang luha ko, pwamis. Korni pero 'di ko na maalala kung kelan ako huling tinawag na anak ng Dad ko.

I can't remember any time when you held my hand. I can't remember any Christmas present from you, either. But that's ok, we've never been the typical dad-daughter team, I know you have lots of Other Kids and you're quite old enough to be my granddad.

But I do remember you pinching my fat 8-year-old nape hard when you make gigil. That hurts, but I wouldn't tell a thing because you scared me. You were a stranger, a weekend Daddy who would sleep beside me on non-school days.

You love adobong pata, paskiw na bangus and ginataang tulingan.

And boy, you love sweets. Not once did I catch you sipping condesed milk straight  from a can (before the diabetes was found, that is). And you bringing home bags of cinnamon rolls.

Staple pasalubong  were soft, fragrant fluffy cinammon rolls. Most of the time, they were left untouched, though. Kase naman, every week there were those rolls, as if they were the only ones available in the bakery.

You would have it with coffee, and I would watch you eat, wondering: "When will this man leave so that I could go back to usual routine again? And he wouldn't stop pinching my nape."

We only traveled by ourselves once. You had me dressed up, and we drove to your place in Pulilan in silence.

Driving on the highway, you noticed that my fingernails were long. Mom's fault, you said. So you pulled over and trimmed my fingernails with a blade.

I wonder how you did that without hurting me. Kaso nakakangilo. Yung ngilo na pag naalala mo, mangingilo ka ulit.

That was the only time I got to visit your place. I met a cousin, we played on the grass. She taught me how to catch a dragonfly. How to tie its tail with a thread so you could hold it, pet it. I wanted to take the blue one home, but it died.

Funny but you never shaved. You plucked. It was some sort of a hobby: you sitting in front of the window (for proper lighting), setting up a clear small mirror on the pane and plucking your beard away.

You usually do this in your underwear which is not the usual briefs or boxers. You wore those undies in soft, flowing fabric. Were those satin? It's quite funny thinking about them now. I guess those stuff are already out of production.

You always say a prayer before leaving the house.

Hmmm, sa yo ko namana yung pagiging balbon at kulot. And man, a large part of my salary goes to The Hair, and taking those on the body off.

I wonder how you would have been to me now had you been here. Would you have been proud of me? Would you help me deal with mom? Would you be mad if you know I've been smoking for six seven years? Would you approve of this guy I'm going out with. Would you think my hair is weird?

Masarap din siguro kung may tatay kang pagpapaalamanan kung gusto mong umalis. Yung meron kang lalambingin pag di ka pinayagan.

I've never met most of your kids. And I always do background checks on possible "karirs." Kase naman mamaya kapatid ko yon.

Don't worry Dad, tapos na yung teen-angst ko. I just miss you loads. It would have been different, though, if I had a dad who took care of me. You know, I might have become better.

I'm still wondering who would walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.

Just say hi to John Lennon for me. I love you, Ama. Here are some cinnamon rolls for your birthday.

'bitch dulce'

Situationer No.1: L and I were talking over the phone. I was telling him how my nephew, Weiland, and I spend a good part of Black Saturday water wrestling on a Batangas beach. He told me about his family reunion in Nueva Ecija.

L : Bi, nakita ng mga pinsan ko ung mga pics natin sa cell phone ko.
Me: Ah talaga, anong sabi?
L: Magkamukha raw tayo!
Me: Onga eh, sabi rin ni Arvin na boyfriend ni Pam---ung nakasalubong natin sa Greenbelt na pinakilala ko sayo. Sabi rin ni Pam, magkmukha tayo.
L: Yup, naalala ko.
Me: Eh di kamukha mo si Mich Dulce?
L: Hala.
Me: Kulutin kita bi? Sige na?

Situationer No 2: After a day of eating and wrestling in Nasugbu, my family and I were walking from the beach to a friend's house where we parked the car. The 20-minute boat ride from the other beach to that beach left my hair in frizzy curls. I carried my heavy bags and heavy eyes red from saltwater to the car.

There was an inter-barangay bastketball game. The beach was clear of people, they were all on the bleachers.

As I passed, I overheard someone from the top of the bleacher say:
Bleacher guy 1: "Pare, 'di ba un ung sa 'Big Brother?'"
Bleacher guy 2: "Oo, ung kulot!"

Noooooooooooooooo.

Then they screamed:
Bleacher guy 1 and 2: "Mich! Mich!"

I didn't look back.

I told L about this, he said it's the hair and the built. I told Weiland about it, he said, "kulot ka kase tsaka mataba."

I've heard much about the fashion designer and former "housemate" Mich Dulce. All Most of them are unpleasant stuff. It has been said that she is a maarte brat who screams "artist ako."

Before the "Pinoy Big Brother" fame, (which I only chanced upon twice--while getting pedicures) I saw Mich in a Pedicab gig and she was dancing like crazy.

It wasn't a good sight. It was actually a bad sight, bad enough to make me loathe Pedicab. Well, until I saw the band the other Saturday for an interview at Saguijo, I became a reformed Pedicab listener. Hmmm, might even buy the album.

From a lifestylista's point of view (naks), her collections are ok. They are wearable and draped well, she makes use of tucking and flaps for a good silhouette. They are ok as long as Ciara Sotto doesn't wear them.

I have recieved "kahawig mo si Mich" comments (from L, L's friends, my nephew, some tambay at Galera, that dude on the beach, ultimo sa HR sa office) and it doesn't really irk me.

What I don't like is her name. I have an aversion with the name MICH. Don't ask unless you can beat me in saltwater wrestling.

let's talk about my friends

Someone called me up a little before 4 a.m. this morning. She woke me up after catching up on sleep after a power interruption in our area (yes, brownouts still happen) because she was devas about her ex.

I could feel her sadness, but more her wrath after knowing that her ex is now with a common friend, who by now, had been her ex-friend. She wasn't crying, though, just agitated. She says she's too dried up to cry anymore.

I know I can't comfort her after her loser of an ex (who was her bestfriend, who was her first bf, who she loved even if the guy was still committed to someone else) did a kiss-and-tell on her.

The most I can do is pray for her. And convince her not to take sleeping pills because she might just pop and pop and get addicted.

Friend 2:

Everyone gets annoyed by her. I mean, she is probably the most overage colegiala you could find in the entire NCR.

She baby talks like a freak and she has this high-pitched, squeaky voice.

She is OC, she is too maselan, she is too annoying.

She just sits there and one look at her and your day is over.

This girl hates tambays. Once, she made sugod a bunch of tambays who threw catcalls, and spoke to them in angry English.

She is convinced she's cute, and she wouldn't believe she's a brat.

And oh, she copies the way people look. I mean, she chamelions and duplicates what this other girl wears. She has no sense of personal style. I don't care as long as she won't look like me. Di nya keri.

I get weak around her. I swear,  she is siphoning my energies a la "War of the Worlds."

If you think I'm too mean, I'll introduce her to you and you do the judging.

We are friends by default. So I guess I  just have to guard my energies.

Friend 3:

She is leading a not-so-secret life. She is a kept woman, a mistress by plain face although she won't admit it. She can't.

I want to know how it happened. She is pretty, smart and well-bred, she can practically get any guy. But why settle for this old married guy?

Is she inlove? The guy has kids, doesn't she feel guilty? Or has she ceased to care?

There was a time when I was the only friend she had around, when everyone was shunning her for being a querida. Pano nya nakayang panindigan?

Friend 4:

She doesn't care about anyone of anything and makes sure people know that. She thinks she's the coolest of them all and at that's a tad too irritating. I wonder how her boyfriend keeps up with her lack of ambition, finesse and emotion.

Friend 5:

She is too childish. She expects everyone to adjust to her.

She is too alagain. It's as if she should be treated as a fragile, uber-delicate baby all the time when, in fact, she's too old to be acting like that.

She lacks reason and thinks only of herself. She is an insecure bratinella and I think she is becoming the person she hates the most.

PS:

Argh, I was deadset on having a vacation this Holy Weekend. Holy Thursday and Good Friday are the only days of the year this company closes shop. For me, a four-day vacation (Thursday-Sunday) is the longest I could have till December.

I was supposed to go on a family swimming weekend but the plan became only day-long. I should have gone to the all-expense-paid company outing in Hundred Islands in Pangasinan, but it's too late to enlist now since I thought my family planned a long weekend.

L has work and a vacation is out of his budget. That, and he has to attend a family reunion.

I suddenly felt like an orphan. Like "all dressed up on a Saturday night and nowhere to go." I hate to stay home. It's too late to make bookings and my friends have their own plans as well, I can't tag with them.

Looks like I'll be bumming around at home for four fucking days. Horrors. What shall I do? I could be dangerous when bored.

I'm so craving for the beach and Baguio.

watch it, watch it, WATCH IT!

Please see the big-screen adaptation of the broadway musical "Rent" exclusively shown in Ayala Cinemas. It's a musical so don't  score a pirated DVD, watch it in the theater---unless you have a THX home theater gear.

To the unfamiliar, "Rent" tells the story of 8 New Yorkers (a junkie stripper, an HIV-positive drag queen and his bum-but-affectionate lover, a rockstar wannabe, a headstrong female lawyer and her drama queen lover, a struggling filmmaker and a yuppie landlord) in the late 80s.

The tale delves on the mishmash of AIDS, homosexuality, racism, sex, drugs, poverty, effing idealism. Watch it even if you don't like musicals, even you are a homophobic who doesn't like  musicals.

"Rent," above all, is a story of love. It made me cry.

It's now on it's second week and I hope it would go on third. See it.

Other plugs:

 Itchyworms and Pedicab will be in Saguijo on Saturday. I'll be interviewing Mike Dizon and Raimund Marasigan for a Sandwich story. Yey! Fangirl.
 Terno Au Go Go 7 will be on April 22, at the Adidas Sports Camp, The Fort. Watch out for Radioactive Sago Project's "Alaala ni Batman" video launch.  Up Dharma Down, Giniling Festival, Drip and other bands from the Terno caboodle will perform. As my sworn duty as Sago's head groupie, I've seen all Terno's except for the first one.  This is the gig, dude. Tara!

'100 porsyentong libog:' a letter to my stalker

dearest allan,

Ok, you may flatter yourself now.

I changed my blog url from thecheshirekitten.motime to themorningafter.motime because of you. So that you, my jerk of a stalker, can't hunt me down.

So that you, my heartless pseudo ex, will have no access to me in any way imaginable by man.

Apparently, I have underestimated your lack of diskarte.

You found this. You found me.

Fuck you.

We have a no-communication agreement and now, thanks to the Sitemeter fairy, i know that you even linked me to your blog.

How thoughtful? How dare you.

You should have respected our agreement that there will be no communication of any sort between us. By age 31, you should have known what "respect" means for chrissakes. But, apparently, you don't.

Since L and I got together, I realized how badly I allowed myself to be treated when we were together. L gave me the "girlfriend-feel" with all the works. You took me as a kabit, and you don't even deserve one. Heck, you can't even afford one.

Yes, I was incredibly stupid because I thought you love me. Because, I thought, I love you.

You said I was your "princess." No, dude, I was your whore.

I want a spotless mind.

I deleted all photos, writings, files that has something to do with you. I quit reading your blog. I deleted our joint blog and e-mail account. I burned the shirt you gave me--your favorite old stinky worn-out shirt, the only thing you cheapskate ever gave me.

I want you out. I want you dead in my head.

And now, here you are reading what's going on in my life? You don't deserve to know how I am.

I accidentally found out that you figured in an accident. The vehicle you were riding in fell over a cliff and to the sea, right?

You said the only person you remembered in your dying moment was Her and you apologized because you can't fulfill your promise of "growing old together."

How sweet.

But why didn't you apologize for cheating on Her? Why didn't you apologize for taking another girl's most precious bit and leaving her afterwards? Why didn't you say sorry for "loving" me? Why didn't ask you ask for forgiveness for claiming that ours was "the best you ever had"?

You should have said sorry for being such a horny fucked up boyfriend while She's working abroad.

You should have said sorry because while you were cheating on Her, you were simultaneously making another girl weep shitless.

Do you have any idea how much damage you did to me? You even asked if it's ok to introduce Her to me just in case we bump into each other.

Duh?

Remember how you told me "I love you but I love her more." Remember how I accepted it?

And remember when told me face flat that you never felt something: "Hindi na, matagal na. Last year pa."

You still wanna know why I despise you to pieces? I hate you because you made me cry till I turned red. I hate you because you made me believe I was loved. It wasn't love, it was another L word---100% pure lust, 100 porsyentong libog.

I hate you because every time I remember you, I feel something tightening in my chest. There's a warm angry pulse inside, and tears almost always become automatic.

I hate you because you can still make me cry, like now. You made me cry harder and longer than when my father died.

And I am not one who weep just for kicks.

Yes, it was my fault, too. I regret it. I regret everything that I allowed to happen.

Go on, propose marriage to Her (or have you done it already?). Get married. Have a perfect home with a husband, wife, kids and a dog. But please, don't name your kid after me like you said you might do.

Please get out of my life, get out of my head, get off my blog.

I gave you everything because, at that time, I was believing in something strong. I was holding on to something of worth. And hope was the worst thing for Our Kind. I gave you everything and hoped you'd choose me. I'm glad you didn't.

Sweetie, please fuck off, fuck someone else. You've done enough trouble to this Kitten.