Lemonheady

Let’s just laugh. Take it from rehab poster boy Evan Dando.

Way back in the 90s, way back in the long lines in the university, way back when waiting for your turn was much easier, way back when music was BASF bulky.

Way back when plastic was the smell of new music.

He kinda shoulda sorta would’ve loved her if he could’ve. Then, I’ve never been too good with names.

Way back when it was easier to disappear in a pop song.

From your teens to your thirties with a flip to side B. Now, lines are for paying bills, or making a deposit to a savings account that devaluates faster than the Peso. Now, there are worries of the future, bulky fat cells clogging arteries. And your turn to be the next big thing is the missed bus while you were sleeping the afternoon away.

But The Lemonheads still make it easy to disappear. Not like in existentialist crap novels, but Kirby cool. Invisible Woman cool. Watching the world go by while you plan your comeback. Taking the backseat because you need to remember what it was like to laugh, to run so fast until your knees buckled, to fall in love every summer. Little things that make it worth while. Little things that make you stronger.

The Lemonheads are sloppy with the guitars (and the smile) but sharp with the hooks. As it was way back. Has it really been that long ago?

Let’s just laugh.

Thanks, Itsy.

HK: Ngong Ping Express

January 2, the let's-do-touristy-things day. Still have to download from various cams the New Year's eve countdown at the Star Ferry pier and dinner with the Azadas on the 1st. So on to cable cars and Buddha.

Around 10 degrees kaya keri ang winter collection.

Buddha...(ako yung may scarf, heh)

...and his air-benders.

Masyadong fresh ang air.

(Below) This was taken on the same day in Soho where we had dinner.
Ang walang kamatayang Wong Kar-Wai shot.

Pictures muna. Abangan ang Meme 2007 at isang ma-emote na look-back sa 2006. Wait. Review na lang kaya ng Kasal, Kasali, Kasalo, the most panalo film of the MMFF? Or isang deconstruction ng Nicholas Tse movies? Syempre inuna kong pinanood ang Dragon Tiger Gate bago Invisible Waves.

Just deliriously happy is all. This is my first new new year in a long time. Have my cape on , Dodobird.

Hope we all have an interesting 2007.

Cheers Darling

One of the rare Christmases that was all about me. What I wanted to eat (arroz caldo), what I wanted to watch (Avatar: The Last Air-Bender Book 2), what I wanted to do (read Ed Brubaker's Captain America: Winter Soldier Vol. 1). And it felt fucking great. Heh.

Faye was down with something flu-like so we both spent Christmas in Manila. Cooked for her. A lot. Compulsive cooking; I was planning dinner while making lunch. And on Christmas Eve, we downloaded lyrics and sang songs by Rilo Kiley, Gwen Stefani, Carrie Underwood, etc. until two in the morning.

Hope you all had fun Christmases. It's all about the cheer.

Quitter

The first time I quit a job it was because I didn’t like the job. PR. Nothing really detestable. It was just. Boring. Writing was limited to a sheet or two, quite automatic. I lasted two months.

The second time was for a better offer. Two years in advertising and I already had an offer. Whoa! Or so I thought. I ended up writing coupon text. 50% discount on selected items. Limited offer only. Very limiting.

So I went back to my ex, mostly for sentimental reasons. The organization was opening a new department and the boss was someone I had always wanted to work with. Fucking brilliant. And a sad drunk. It was almost love. But then, he quit. And so.

Looking back now, job #5 was a highlight. Top of the pops because I was high most of the time. And drunk. And dancing to Incognito and M People in Venetia. Cocktails over ice over lunch. Dated compulsively. I started listening to hip-hop and house music and acid jazz. I was twenty-five and foolish but was making really good friends. We signed on each other’s vodka bottle; absolut scribbling of well wishes and confessions.

No wonder I burned out. But I had fun along the way.

Didn’t work for a year. Never really had a break. I was on my second job when I officially graduated. Marched. Took summer classes and was done with college on the first semester of my senior year. And not more than a two-week break since then.

So the millennium came and I was jobless. But I was in love. The freelance thing didn’t really work out for me. I spun records for my boyfriend’s café so I could earn enough to buy CDs. Just waiting for the right job to come along.



The one I’m quitting right now.

Five and a half years. A feat, really. It felt right most of the time. Never really thought of myself as a sales type of worker, but the job turned me into one. I had to meet quotas, had to wear barong, had compute annual budgets. But I was working in a library so it didn’t really matter. Until things changed.

So I’m starting the year with a trip to Hong Kong and Civil War #6. The rest I’ll figure out along the way.

Waiting to exhale

There. I've said it.

32

Quiet Saturday at work. Carpet cleaning's the only thing happening. And the waiting for the carpet to dry so I can eat properly in the pantry. The staff set up a make-shift dining table at the reception area right across the bookshop. So it's "Hello books! Hello hungry people!" as soon as you enter. The place is so quiet you can actually hear the chewing. I'm kidding. A little bit. If you really try hard to listen...

Brought my comics with me. Catching up on the All-New Atom and the Irredeemable Ant-Man. Come to think of it, I do have a thing for shrinking men...

The rest of the afternoon is purposely drawn blank. Looking forward to going to Rockwell. The boyfriend will be shopping for an outfit for his exhibit opening (Ayala Museum, have ta look extra spiffy) while I will be wandering the aisles of Fully Booked. I do wander. It's my thing. I walk around aimlessly first, grabbing titles along the way. Surveying, so to speak. Then, the hunt with a mission begins. Followed by the checking of the wallet, and the weeding of titles. My very own Glorious Mystery. This has been my ritual since I was in school, but mostly in discount book shops. The beloved Booksale, from where I have completed my Stephen King and Clive Barker titles...

So.

32 years old.

It's all happening man. It's all happening.

The Buzz

Still buzzed from last night's drink out with Dodo, Faye and Raymond. Laughed hard. Downed around six bottles. Only. Yet the lightheaded morning after is somewhat bluesy. Like that Blake Babies song: Nothing's good and nothing's bad. That tentative heavyness of feet. That under the sheets disposition.


The term hangover was originally a 19th century expression describing unfinished business – something left over from a meeting – or ‘survival.’ (Wikipedia)


There's always unfinished business. Loose ends. Work in progress. Missing pages. Open endings. Hangovers.

About time I get used to it.

Fight or Flight

IT'S A BIRD...Written by Steven T. Seagle; Art and Cover by Teddy Kristiansen

It has been a week for advanced birthday presents. Early bird was the Hawkman-JUSTICE action figure from Faye, and just last Saturday, two trades from W---Busiek's Astrocity: Family Album, and Seagle's It's a Bird...---which I'm writing about now because I can't sleep.

Because the language was elegant, the lessons delicate. Because I prefer reading comic books over drinking beer nowadays. Because I have been angry for the past two months. Because I am leaving my job. Because I don't mind losing. Because there's always something next. Just like a Superman comic book, Seagle says.

I have accepted who I am and who I'm never becoming. And what I want.

I will always have fun with words. I prefer geeking out at home over the company of people, corduroys over slacks, gray over black, gameboy over a cellphone, love over lust, comics over poetry, watching TV in a hotel room over sunbathing, Hong Kong over Singapore, god over religion.

I will never prescribe hows or whys or whats. Some people see it as too kind. Or lackadaisical. I call it realization. Making decisions. Growing up.

Of course, there are doubts, practically nations of them, but Faye made it really simple for me: whatever makes you happy, wherever you are happy is what makes work work.

So I'm getting myself a ticket to somewhere sunnier.

Look up in the sky.