Prom King

There. I finally said it.

NECKTIED

Admit One's Blast Prom di Past: Mga Kantang Pang-Mirrorball last October 2 was the most fun I've ever had in such a long long time. (And bless you, Luis, for writing about it with such attention to detail.) Wilmer and I arrived at the venue, Freedom Bar, at around 8 p.m., an hour early. Some of the bands were already there dressed up in prom gear, long sleeves and neckties and soft, frilly skirts. And I was already sure then that it was going to be wonderful, Molly Ringwald wonderful.

Since they still weren't allowing people in, W and I decided to grab dinner at the nearby carinderias. After the oily sisig and the oilier-than-thou menudo, we were already craving beer. On our way back, we passed by this small ukay-ukay store where Wilmer picked out a necktie for me. My first ever necktie.

I couldn't help but feel like I was in high school again when we walked in Freedom Bar. There were balloons, twisted crepe paper lining on the windows, girls in puffy sleeves and tiaras, and this huge, mirrorball above us like a star spinning out of orbit.

THE BANDS

Death by Tampon, looking like Courtney Love plush dolls, were the first to perform. I'm not so familiar with their songs but they were bubbly and punk, the perfect party starter combo. They inserted the "Got to Believe" chorus in one of their Sleater-Kinney-ish songs and, in a blink of a mascara-ed eye, officially made the evening "Prom Night."

All bands performed a "pang-mirrorball" song:

• Drip did Paula Abdul's "Rush Rush." Wow. Lovely, lovely Beng Calma. And those two guys hunched over their PCs and synthesizers, dressed like Boogie Nights extras, played techno (does one "play" techno? program?) so fucking well I was stunned at my stupidity for ignoring their album.
• Happy Meals. Er. To busy ordering Red Horse.
• Itchyworms. The it's-so-baduy-it's-so-good performance of the night. Here's the medley: "Stars" (Simply Red), "Dying Inside" (Timmy Thomas), "This Time I Know It's Forever" (Errol Brown), "I've Been Waiting For You" (Guys Next Door), "I'm Too Sexy" (Right Said Fred) "Exta-si Exta-no" (Chimo Bayo) --- got this from Chino's blog, because honestly, all I remember is singing aloud to "Dying Inside." The best, pinaka asteeg, most fun performance of the evening.
• Imago covered Berlin's "Take My Breath Away." Macho dancing from Ebe Dancel and that guy from ChicoSci included.
• Twisted Halo, OMD's "If You Leave." Uuuuy! Margie!
• Cambio, "Endless Love." Hee hee. Ebe and Kris Dancel, as the pregnant girl, on vocals. Oh! And The B-52's "Roam" with Imago's Aia. The second most fun of the evening.
• Sugarfree, "Never Say Goodbye" and opening riffs of "Blaze of Glory." Heh, Bon Jovi. I did listen to Bon Jovi when I was in high school. I remember it clearly, buying Morrisey's Viva Hate and Bon Jovi's New Jersey at the second floor of Ever Gotesco, Recto.
• The All-Stars. Raimund, Buddy, Ebe and Jal, Chino, Aia and Zach, Jason and Vin played songs that defined the 80s and early 90s, from "Pride (In the Name of Love)" to "Crazy for You." So much singing and dancing and laughing and hugging.

PROM KING AND QUEEN

So. Here's the weird part. When I was nominated as Prom King, I thought, Uh-huh. They're playing with me. You see, I know myself. I win things, competitions, by being bright, by spelling words and memorizing scientific names. Never by just being around. So when they announced me Prom King, I was, Okay. Cool. What the fuck?

But wow. Margie is Prom Queen. And I am Prom King. In what parallel universe does this happen? I still can't believe it but I want to believe it. Yeay. That night made up for all those boring proms. And to be "crowned" prom royalty by rock stars. Heh heh. Talk about Jedi mind control. Now I believe that we can make anything happen.

And thanks, Wilmer, for the necktie.

Something for the Longing

• Sugarfree is becoming a weekend habit. Last night at Peligro, they played a full set, an hour and a half of soaring, deafening pop. Gig buddy and I were right there in front, inches away from Ebe. Happy M was seated on the floor, looking up at Ebe adoringly, like a child listening to a far, far away happy ending story. And I was standing in front of Ebe, swaying and smiling, but looking away everytime he caught my eye. I was afraid he would see how happy he was making me, like I haven't been happy until that night. Besides, I'm reduced to a stuttering, shy fan whenever they start playing. One recognizable riff and they win me over, in a nano-sparkle.
• So broke. Fuck. To save on some Greenbelt-pricey dinner, M brought sisig and maalat na itlog with tomatoes to the library. We asked the caterer for garlic rice. AC paid my design efforts in pizza. And for dessert, Toblerone fondue from Old Swiss Inn. Now that's fusion dining. Also made mental note not to drink too much Red Horse because it makes me vomit, and my fusion vomit would just be too skongkrang.
• "Something for the Longing" is an East River Pipe album. Belated Happy Birthday, dodobird. And thank you for the music.
• Am attending a high school reunion this evening. My only peeve is that they never saw me thin. WTF. Same old Thor is good old Thor.
• Frunk (verb): According to Jovan, it means fucken drunk. According to Thor, it's fucked and drunk. Fucked and drunk, even when I was seventeen.

We Rocked and We Rolled

Saturday, the 18th, was strange. The boyfriend had a crappy week and was a liitle hesitant of going to the SaGuijo gig, which was a wee bit annoying because we already had planned this a week ago. But anyway, sometime before lunch he finally decided to tag along, and I was thinking in my head, "Don't you dare be mope-y in the gig." Grrr.

And man, did he surprise me (and Margie and Kristine, as well). In our 5 years together, I have never seen him get drunk, much less drink to rock music. He was always the sweet, healthy one; always grooving instead of rocking out. Don't get me wrong, I love him for what he is and what he is not, but my going out to watch bands and getting shit-faced drunk and slurring praises (phrases, mostly) to rockstars had always been a point of contention. He just never got it.

So, SaGuijo. Is a very clean place. It is softly-lit, with artsy patterns crawling like vines (wait, yes, vines indeed) on the walls. And a huge portrait of the Virgin Mary near the door. The people who were already there were young, polite, and again, clean. And glossy fashionable. Ah, so this is what kids wear nowadays to gigs. Whatever happened to the good old black on black gig staple?

Jazz Kidding plays, first band of the night. And I suddenly get the hordes of fashionistas. The guitarist is hot, his hair well zhuzhed. They play competent rock-jazz, but it's the drummer and the bassist that really kick ass. He (the bassist) has beautiful, long fingers that slide and slither up and down the 8th and 24th bars.

Twisted Halo. Loud, grrrr gutars that officially rocked the night. Rocking, yes, but no hooks to hang on to. But it didn't really matter. Especially to M.

Wilmer was on his third bottle when Cambio started playing. Wilmer. And Strong Ice. And rock music. Live. Can only co-exist in some distant parallel universe. He proved me wrong. And just had to love being wrong.

So when Sugarfree came around to playing hits like Burnout and Sinta, we totally rocked out. Margie and I were the quintessential fans, hugging and jumping along to the beat, getting almost teary-eyed when Ebe's voice soared above the guitars: Kay tagal din kitang minahal. Wilmer was already drinking Kristine's beer, and Kristine, always the cool one, was ... cool about everything, gently nodding to the hard-candy riffs of Sugarfree.

Oh, joy.

Of course, we all rolled home. Smiling, drunk, and yes, happy.