Thank You for the Music

The children have left the building but I can still hear their high-pitched, butterfly laughter. It's sweet, really, for a library to be filled with laughter on a sunny Saturday morning. And I love it that our library does not just encourage silent concentration, but also silliness, and savory conversations.

I'm also glad that I'm alone in my room today because I am so tired, too tired to be polite. So I'm playing my music loud (Magnetic Fields, "i") and singing along loud, programming my behavior for tonight's plans, the Jasmine Trias concert and hopefully, Admit One at SaGuijo. I'm not really up to the Jasmine gig, and Wilmer has been forcing me to be excited about it. "Okay lang," is all I can come up with every time he'd bring it up. The thing is, I AM looking forward to it, it's just that lately, I've been feeling very lethargic. Almost sad. And I don't know why.

Overture

Last Thursday, I woke up feeling sad. The first emotion when I opened my eyes: sadness, a sad state of emptiness. I take it back, not an emotion but a gray, monochromatic limbo. I was lost and not wanting to be found. And by the time I got to work, I was officially depressed. And I didn't care.

The Map of Long Agos and Far Aways

There was a time, not too long ago, when I was extremely proud of my CD collection. I would make tapes for my friends for whatever drama they were going through. From love tapes to break-up mixes, from driving to dining, I provided the soundtrack to their lives. Also, music charts my life. Everything I bought, copied, ripped and burned makes up a map of continuously unfolding long agos and far aways.

Joan Baez and Bob Dylan are narrow, summer streets in Sampaloc where I grew up, folding and throwing paper planes through the criss-crossing electrical wires outside my window. Madonna and The Reivers are the dusty, dangerous alleys of Recto; Metallica is a dead end called San Sebastian Street, and The Housemartins and R.E.M. lead to the wide roads of Plaza Miranda where there were bookstores and pet shops. U.P. Diliman is a city of intersections and car crashes: Tori Amos is a balmy afternoon at the Main Library steps with dearly departed Carl (bless you); The Stone Roses, The Beautiful South and Teenage Fanclub are the busy hallways of A.S. where giggles and heartache overlap; The Darling Buds, ah, the first kiss under the Vinzon's Hall waiting shed.

So. Ten years after. Here I am, still buying, borrowing, ripping and burning music. Almost 30. CDs close to 600.

"Suddenly, everything has changed."

I'm beginning to vehemently detest reunions. There's always talk of cars and houses and babies, and I would just be nodding, faking a smile, and drinking a lot. A whole lot. And then they (ex-friends, now) would look at me, fucking pitying me for not having a car, a house, and babies.

I have a boyfriend who's mostly sweet and loving.

I have a sister who's a geek, a father who loves Buffy, Angel and Star Trek, and a mother who loves shopping for shoes (while fighting for the rights of children and the elderly).

I have brilliant friends who drink and drive (me home). Hee hee.

I have a stable job that makes me happy (most of the time, anyway).

I have 5 dogs, 2 chickens, 3 cats, 4 lovebirds, and around 45 fishes in 6 separate biotope tanks.

I have music.

And they are everything to me.

I'm turning 30 in a couple of weeks, and sometimes, I envy the people who have plans, who planned plans for their future. I, on the other hand, I'm always waiting for the next payday, always planning to save, yet always ending up buying new CDs instead of getting a car or a housing loan.

I'm turning 30 and I'm a little blue from not demanding more of myself. I think, I could be rich, but, no. I'd rather be happy with myself.

The Plan

I am getting married to my fucking self and I am registered at...Amazon.com, and Tower Records worldwide. So here are the titles that I'm planning to acquire before I turn 31:

• The Rosenbergs, "Department Store Girl"
• Joe, Marc's Brother, "Around the World with Joe, Marc's Brother"
• Splitsville, "Incorporated" and "Complete Pet Soul"
• Actual Tigers, "Gravelled and Green"
• Junior Boys, "Last Exit"
• The Unicorns, "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone"
• Bikeride, "Summer Winners Summer Losers"
• Some Girls, "Feel It"
• Blake Babies, "God Bless the Blake Babies"
• The Breeders, "Title TK"
• and all future releases of Tanya Donelly, Postal Service, Death Cab for Cutie, R.E.M., Kristin Hersh, Liz Phair, The Beautiful South, Aimee Mann, The Shins, Iron and Wine, Tori Amos, Travis, Belle and Sebastian, Oasis, Mary Lou Lord, Garbage, Madonna, Magnetic Fields, Jason Mraz, The Sundays, Grandaddy, The New Pornographers, Laura Cantrell, Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, The Donnas, blah! blah! blahs! ...

So to all you lovies who introduced me to bands, taped or burned me mixes, sent me links, and everything else musical, and you know who you are, thank you, thank you for the music. And for understanding how something is everything to me.