Oh, Monday

Good thing I have a teaching job. Good thing students actually take time off from, er, studying, therefore the existence of a summer vacation.

For two weeks now, I have been nothing but a bum. Worse than an arse, a BUM. Am loving it, nevertheless. Waking up at 10 am, read long-overdue books, eat frosted cereal, go out to have coffee at Bean Hub (hello CJ!) to do some more reading and a bit of writing and, if something comes up, stay at IC's at night till the music which indicates 'Please people, we have lives. Go home!'

In the same two weeks, I've gotten to talk to people, familiar or otherwise, friend or acquaintance, about anything and everything under the sun (and the clouds, for that matter). Catukayo, for crucial decisions that need to be made. M, for getting me to ponder on what I could possibly do for my workplace. Needles, for the love-crap thing. Bopis, for regalling me, as always, with his stories, prompting me to tell him he was born in the wrong century.

P., an old friend from high school, stayed at our place for the weekend. She came to Los Banos with no plans - who to see, where to go. But, as is always the case with her, she got to see the people she wants to meet up with, proving once again Los Banos is her spiritual home.

We had long talks over the weekend. The perfunctory how-are-you-how's-the-family-how's-the-dog. Dating anyone? Whatever happened to (name of person). The whole deal. It amazes me to realize that she could be as straight-forward about things and opinions of people as I am (and more) but with less of the sarcasm.

Last Saturday, the second night of impromptu high school reunions, P. got to talking about how our classmates recounted the 'what actually happened' versions of stuff that happened back then. A lot of 'He/she was supposed to be suspended as well?' and 'He/she did WHAT?' Then she tells me why don't I write something about it, the whole 'behind the scenes' account of what took place more than a decade ago, with us nearing thirty, in various stages in life (married/single/annulled/divorced/with kid, no husband/with bratty kid/spiralling down/climbing back up again/still thinks like he or she is still in high school/still in undergrad). I laughed, saying how I have been thinking for some time now about a similar project on our barkada, with one chapter dedicated to each person. Probably if the friend is special enough (read: has had a colorful life), she'll have two chapters.

Note: I really, really need to have coffee. And breakfast. And sleep. Maybe a nap.

Things I want to get out of my system:

1. I can't get the image of Michelle Pfeiffer in 'White Oleander' out of my mind! Blame it on the cinematography and her make-up artist but she really looked so ethereal...and in a women's correctional facility, of all places. But more than that, I couldn't get over how she really mind-fucks the character of Alison Loman. She could head a cult, with that kind of persuasive power. And we wonder why we love and hate our mothers at the same time. Just about the only father-related issues I hear are of abandonment and sexual abuse. Not that I'm trivializing the two, but you could do a semester's coursework dealing with mother-daughter issues alone.

2. I forgot the second one, oh wait, now I remember: I just heard this song on NU. At first, I was curious about the lyrics. I hear the words 'organic' and 'pesticide-free'. Then I realize there are Tagalog lyrics. And the guy singing the words sounds American. Or European. Kumukurba ang Tagalog sa bibig niya. I was figuring out if the song was a joke, or an anti-Monsanto song.

3. I still want to grab pizza. With burgers on the side, if possible. No fries.

4. Needles, you say a lot of things all the time but you made sense on two counts. To paraphrase: a) The person you want to be with is someone you could say to yourself 'Fuck! I'm with this person!' and b) You don't need a contract to prove your love.

Amen, brother.

I stand corrected

According to Francis Brew, they were the first to play Maroon 5, as early as eight months ago. Fair enough for me. See, this is the problem: if they play it first, then they retain their cred. But if they're the 18th FM radio station to play it, then they're thought of (by eejits like me) as one of those who ride in the newfound popularity of a hot new group.

Now I go off to look for fried chicken. Or pizza. Or hamburger.

Amy's bloodstream, now fortified with coffee AND coke

As if four cups of coffee daily isn't enough, I suddenly had this hankering for Diet Coke yesterday afternoon. Teased the folks to getting them their usual Lift and I was off to Acer Grocery. Chugged half the 1.5 liter by midnight.

Was able to catch 'White Oleander' on HBO. I've heard some comments about the movie from my friends and it was quite something. For those who have seen it, it is a throwback to all those mother-daughter conflict movies (refer to 'Anywhere But Here' and, well, 'Anywhere But Here'). Suddenly, one is reminded of the million and one times you just wanted to strangle your mother. Then you are reminded of your Catholic tradition and the Virgin Mary, (Mother to us all) and try to stifle such impure thoughts.

Being the crybaby that I am, I, surprisingly, did not cry during the mother-daughter conflicts. I instead cried over the scene where the daughter (played very well by Alison Loman, not sure if I get that right) finally sought refuge with this guy friend of hers (played by Patrick Fugit) at the foster kids place after realizing she has no one (as in NO ONE) to turn to. This, after she blew him off after she came back to the place after the suicide of her second foster mother (played by Renee Zellweger, in an off-beat role, leaving her unrecognizable, none of her usual pouty, chirpy roles).

On yet another movie note, I caught'Reality Bites' on Star Movies last Sunday and finally saw it for what it really is: a collage of sound bites which, oddly enough, is quite representative of 90s pop culture. Several things I saw that time that I ignored before: the names of Evan Dando and Dave Pirner on the opening credits and Winona Ryder bra-less when she finally saw her documentary butchered at the viewing party.

I am now cured of my 'Reality Bites' obsession. But not yet my Ethan Hawke obsession. Maybe if I get to see 'Before Sunrise' once again on cable, that will end it altogether.

I attempt to finish this post

Non-music junkies like needles might be already put off by the gradual trickling of music-related posts in my blog. But hey, he articulated it best in one of our bus rides to Manila: 'Music is my food.'

Last night, after almost a year of twiddling my FM dial between JAM 88.3 (all ex-Citylite listeners collectively cringe) and 99.5 RT, I adjusted the dial to NU 107. It wasn't an accurate day for checking out what's on their current playlist since Friday night is already part of their weekend requests period, whereas before, I knew that it only starts on Saturdays around 6 am.

To my chagrin (and I swear, this is the first time I use that word, just to indicate how surprised I was) I hear Maroon 5 and Avril Lavigne coming out of the speakers. Now, I have no qualms with Maroon 5. I thought their song being included in the OST of 'Something's Gotta Give' is a brilliant career move (as I hear their album 'Songs About Jane' have been languishing in record shelves)and their sound is very much welcomed. But if I wanted to hear a Maroon 5 song, I'd just stick it with JAM 88.3, a station more inclined to play them. (Then again, I heard a song of theirs being played on STAR FM. Or was it that 'For life!' station?)

As for Miss Lavigne, I think I correctly remember one of their DJs really fighting NOT to include her songs on their playlist, after there was a change of station managers. (I think the DJ in question was Francis Brew.) Obviously, he lost.

Which brings me to my point: I've always thought of NU as one of those stalwarts in the FM arena when it comes to maintaining a certain 'integrity' (and I enclose the word in 's) when it comes to knowing their musical genre identity. Sure, they did that awful experiment in playing (without any designated timeslot) rock songs from various decades. Picture in one hour: Faith No More (ayos!) then Jimi Hendrix (lalong okay!) tapos biglang Bachman Turner Overdrive or one of those bands. Say what?? Precisely.

Now what? Maroon 5 played after Taproot? Or Avril Lavigne after Beth Orton? Wag naman, 'pre. Sacrilege na yan, e.

That is why when I still listened to NU on a daily basis, I always looked forward to Francis Brew's and Myrene's timeslots because I knew their playlists were just nutty enough for me. They know their rock music and have the instinct for it.

Now, Myrene's gone, but thank goodness Francis is still around. I wonder how he feels about the Avril-ization of NU?

Chatting with two people

...is hard. But fun to do anyways.

The 90s, all over again

Readers of bananaducky should know by now that I am really, really particular about the music that I listen to. I admit to not liking some movies but forgiving them for having a great soundtrack. Worse, I, on several occasions, have bought OSTs to movies I've never seen (or will never get to see, or not even bother to see).

At a Sunday lunch with my cousins, No Doubt was playing on the player. Now I've been always curious about their music because of their obvious references to ska, which lessened over time but did not go away in terms of its spiritual influence.

So yesterday, I decided to get a copy of their 1992-2003 Best of...release. I am wary of Best of..releases because it means two things: they're washed-out artists and are hoping for one more round of ka-ching ka-ching record sales (if the attention-deprived listening audience still remembers them).

How apropos that track one is "Just a Girl". The song that started it all for them. Now there are a lot of those breakthrough songs that have lost steam through ear-numbing, 24/7 tendencies to really play them on FM to death (case in point: R.E.M.'s "Losing my Religion"). Surprisingly, I still rocked to "Just a Girl". This CD has 14-15 tracks and are good selections that define the trajectory of their music.

Of course, if there's No Doubt, there has to be "Don't Speak". This one broke out in my senior year in college (okay, that was 1996) and I remember me and G. whispering "Hush, hush, darling" at the end of the song, as if practicing if ever we get to use those lines in an actual break-up situation. I started to loathe the song when it was overplayed on the radio. I think I've given it enough grace period to mend and become new to me again.

Breaktime: You are really old when you see Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U" on Classic MTV. Yes, yes, I should give it up already.

So after Tatay dropped off Nanay at the bus stop this morning, I popped in the CD in the player, hoping it won't be snooty this time as I am inserting an original copy. Shifted the mode to "Dance", activated the "Bass" option and turned the volume up. Ah, morning with No Doubt and frosted cereals.

Next prospective CD purchase: Sarah McLachlan's "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy".

Music in my mind:
1) "Underneath It All" by No Doubt
2) "Volcano" by Damien Rice
3) "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" by Jet
4) "Stupid" by Sarah McLachlan
5) "Love Song" by 311

Note: I'm thinking of creating a separate blog for my vacation notes, just as not to mix them with my current concerns. Funny, but I think I could still recall specific days in Vermont from California, for example.

Shout-Outs (even for those who will never get to read my blog ever)

1. Durga, for the heady six days in New Jersey and New York and for being the boot-camp leader that you are (I will not stop kidding you), which was necessary for me since you know very well I have the tendency to just hang loose in the morning. Thanks for Devil Ducky. It's now in good company with Spot the Target Dog and Prayer Bear. Bahala silang maglabo-labo sa kama ko, bwahaha!

2. V., for flying over for the weekend, even if you were expecting the drive to Washington, D.C. Thank you for the very generous gift of having the opportunity to get to New Jersey. We had quite a discussion that particular night. Small blessings because I got to know you really better.

3. A., for having me at your apartment. Too bad the hubby had to suddenly fly to KL. At least I got to eat the duck and drink the wine, hehehe. Somehow, dinner deliveries at your place were still fab, which goes to show that it is ALWAYS the people you're with, not necessarily the place.

4. C. (and B.), for driving five hours from Vegas to Long Beach to take me around LA and its nearby areas. I know it was quite a feat, but admit it, you also had a good excuse to escape Vegas, hahaha. I have to admit when you two were bringing me back to Long Beach that Sunday, I got misty-eyed over two thoughts - when will I see you guys again and the fact that I miss good old Pinas, my family and friends. This is not a joke, what with bs elections and all.

Jetlag has caught up with me and so I continue next time. Wait, Part Two of LA weekend is not yet done. I do remember.

Some Notes

1. Jetlag rocks! Since I came back last Thursday night, my lengthiest sleep has been Friday night (12 hours), followed by three hours of nap late Saturday afternoon. Got me to thinking the stuff I have to fix in the house.

2. Met up with catukayo and the love. Am happy to see them together and in love. Medyo nagsentimiento tuloy ako at nagdrama kay c. Hindi naman ako pinagtawanan o inasar, buti na lang. Just held my hand and listened. Harks back to the IRRI sessions. Thanks sweetie. Again.

3. T. and I met this afternoon and had a really good talk about goings-on in our lives. Again Recounted scene in # 2. Was quite surprised to hear that she (and a couple of her girlfriends) were thinking the same thing too. Okay, so I'm not that pathetic after all. What she did tell me about her take on the whole thing made a lot of sense. Thanks T. It helps that I learned Saturday morning that I have my period. Woohoo!

4. Two questions I always get from the people in the US (and even here) - one, what do I think of the place and two, will I stay there? Answer # 1: It's quite an experience yes, but it's like the same thing I felt when I walked through downtown Baguio for the first time or saw Sagada for the first time. I sometimes think if I'm too jaded about places I sort of know from pictures or accounts but it's true. Or maybe because I try not too hard to be (or at least not to act) like a tourist, gazing at the building or the people all the time. So am I pretending like I'm a resident. Of course not. Which I why I love to walk through the streets as much as I can and not see it all in a fleeting glance. Answer # 2: Ika nga ni Ate Vi, wag magsalita nang tapos, pero as of now - I'd like to spend a few years there but not settle down there or live there until I die. I imbibed the fast-paced lifestyle of New York and how there will never be enough time to explore it. I likewise reveled in the 'hang loose' vibe of California (not to mention the temperature). I'm very fortunate to have spent ample time in both coasts. Even my friends in the US kid me about it, as some of them have never visited California.

As I was saying about the Getty, we focused on the photography exhibit which chronicles the evolution of photography (as in from the late 19th century) to the likes of Diane Arbus and Henri Cartier-Bresson. I'd like to look up that Frederic Sommer guy. He was active in the 1920s or 30s and he took pictures of chicken heads fresh from decapitation and feet detached from its leg by an accident.

Afternoon, it was all driving, driving, driving, courtesy of the really-patient Berto. First was Venice Beach which, for reasons that will be obvious in the succeeding posts, deserves a blog post in itself. Then it was all the nooks and crannies of the place - Melrose, Rodeo, etc. And yes, kiddies, I succumed to one touristy attraction - Mann's Chinese Theater and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. For my sister, I took a picture of the hand and shoe print of Jimmy Stewart. I contented myself with Gene Kelly and the sidewalk star of Greta Garbo and I forget which one. Which means that I got to see Sunset Blvd which, like Times Square in New York has been cleaned up of the hookers and sex shops and tattoo shops. There are some that are still there but with all those mega Disney stores and the Kodak Theater, they're bound to wither and die in due time. Earlier that day, we just missed artista-ogling at the premiere of Shrek 2. Oh well.

Late evening, late dinner at Mel's diner which used to be a drive-in diner. I assume that by drive-in diner, you eat in your cars and the waitresses go to you in roller skates. At least that's what I remember in pictures. The parking guy charged us for $ 2.50 for ONE HOUR OF PARKING. Crazy. We had no choice. Finding parking in LA is as difficult as finding..oh, never mind. I cringe to realize I just sounded like a La Sallite and his or her excuse for being late in class. OH, I'M SORRY. La Sallian pala.

We couldn't get hold of Bobby so we decide to stay at a motel/inn. Contented ourselves with lying on our beds and watching SNL. Hilarious skit: two of their mainstays as Rummy and Dubya, set to the Friends finale in which Ross and Rachel finally get together. Rummy is the Rachel character and Dubya Ross. For those who are aware of this twist in the Friends finale, Rummy, after being let go by Dubya over the Iraq prisoners abuse scandal, returns to Dubya and realize they can't be apart and then they kiss. Really hard. The guy playing Rummy was already laughing.

Woke up Sunday morning realizing I didn't brush my teeth because no one brought toothpaste. Candy and Berto had to hit the road ASAP because they have to return the rental car by 12 noon. (Note: Vegas is five hours away from where we were.) I have to admit I felt a bit sad as we were hitting the freeway. Not just that I won't be seeing Candy (and our other friends for that matter) for yet another long stretch of time but that, corny as it may sound, I miss home, my family and my friends. Which is why I'm very happy that the Colantas in Long Beach were my last stop.

Part 2 is about the Colanta Mother's Day lunch and the crazy Colanta cousins. Somehow the words brujas and malditas pop in my head right now when I think of them. But really, they're wonderful.

That for another post.

What the...

So now I understand what needles was referring to about blogger. New look. Okay so far. It's just that I'm really sleepy already and I have no patience to go over the new blogger. But I can't sleep yet because I had longganisa at 10 pm and it's only a little bit before 12 midnight and my tummy is still full. Or at least it still feels full.

This post about my weekend is in two parts.

Part 1: LA with Candy and Berto
(Note: I'm so sick of initialling my friends' names when I refer to them in my posts so unless I have something mean or sensitive to say about someone, I'm going to name him/her.)

Apparently there's a Berto fans club within TOPS and the president is durga? Well, I'm sorry, I was the first among you guys to meet him. He's cute. And nice. And really, really knows his way around town. Very savvy driver. I can see why Candy is happy with him.

The two had to wait for me at my tita's house because me and my cousins (guys, late 30s, married with one kid each)went to this Mexican place for happy hour, in which I stuffed myself nuts with buffalo wings and more Corona (IC's should start serving Corona, I swear). Highlights: our waitress Erica (from Braziw!) was so into my Kuya Jon (go Colanta eyebrows!) that me and Kuya Dudoy were giggling to no end. Kuya Dudoy had the nerve to take a picture of Erica and Kuya Jon together, hehehe. Another highlight is that after three Coronas, I finally decided to do karaoke after the karaoke host practically shoved the song list in front of me (was it that obvious that I wanted to sing but was too lazy to get up from my seat). By the way, sorry durga, but I swear the song was for you. Of course I sang my karaoke song...Dancing Queen by Abba. Of course go Filipino vocal cords! kasi malakas ang palakpak sa akin. Even Erica approached my back at my table and praised my singing. Well, you know, it's like...:)

So, being more happy than usual, I met up with Candy and Berto and I was just glad to see her. Lost no time and hit Santa Monica and went to their mall. (Puta, mall pa rin.) Totally forgot it was Friday night and so all the school kids were out. One thing: the ruffly skirt is SO in, whether super short or calf-length. 9 out of 10 girls were wearing it. Sick.

Got lost in finding Candy's friend's improv gig (thanks to the fantastic navigational skills of Candy - joke!) but got there alright. They're an Asian improv group whose skits mostly involved the Asian-American experience. Snippets: Chibas Regal, Sto. Nino and a sweatshop mogul. I hear they travel along with Rex Navarette when he tours. They announced that the Manila-based improv groups SPIT will do a show with them.

Stayed with Candy's old friend Bobby who seems to be the unpaid endorser of Dermatologica products, hehehe. No, Bobby was kind enough to let us crash in for the night. I got to learn about the other people in their group.

Saturday morning: Candy and Berto brought me to Zankou's, an Armenian resto made famous by a Beck song (can't remember which one) for brunch. Chicken was yummy. Couldn't figure out the beet-colored pickle-tasting thing on our platter. Next was a trip to the Getty Center. Okay, the Getty Center is, because it's California, $ 5 PER CAR. So who cares if you bring a trailer-full of people and you still pay $ 5 for everyone? And since it's perched on a mountain (so J. Paul Getty owns mountains?), we had to take a tram to go there.

The Getty Center is an architectural beauty. It's definitely modern and it reflects what I think is the California aesthetic - big, brash and sprawling - but it's not arrogant. It's several interconnected buildings and it's just breathtaking. It also provides a breathtaking view of downtown LA.

Just realized this post is already long. Will just publish this.

Long Beach, CA

I got here after lunch, California time. Flight from JFK took me five hours. I almost missed my flight, considering I've been at JFK since 7 am and my flight is 10:50. Don't want to go into the stupid details. Anyhow, my Tito Lanlan and Tita Ine picked me up at Long Beach airport. It was good to see relatives again. And very warm weather is a welcomed change from the very, very cold weather in the East Coast.

In true Filipino tradition, they've stuffed me with food. Food, food, food. Even though my brain is already telling me to stop, my taste buds do not, simply because I just miss the dang food. Haay. And another great thing being here? Time is soooo slow. A big contrast to my heady East Coast life.

Tita Ine needs the phone, so another installment later.

Last night in New York City (for now)

I only got to spend two full days in NYC but it has just been, for lack of a better word (since me and Aileen got exhausted sitting on my luggage and trying to close it), great. I just have to say this for now (I will go on a lengthy account when I'm all settled down in Los Banos. By accident, I saw an announcement at the Whitney this afternoon before I viewed the artworks, that a reading of excerpts from the new project of this artist named Roni Horn is scheduled later for 7 pm. Those who are reading their contributions to her project include (drum roll) Helene Cixous, Louise Bourgeois and John Waters. Also this lady named Anne Carson who, unfortunately, am not quite sure as to what she does. The funniest was Louise's, whose reading was screened. (The lady seemed like 150 years old.) Hers was just short and acerbic but still loaded and subversive. Me and Aileen didn't stay long for John's (he was the last) because we were both just tired and sleepy (especially Aileen) but I did get a glimpse of him. I thought I was going to content myself with the back view of his head. Helene Cixous' reading was rather drab. Anne Carson's was long and winding. (More later on what it was all about.)

I just wanted to post that immediately. Oh, and the Whitney Biennial was nothing I've ever seen. Even if I've been pretty jaded with the so-called shock art of the likes of Damien Hirst, most of the pieces I saw there are arresting, disturbing, pretty, emotional...the adjectives can just go on.

Sigh.

Haaaay

Am still at Aileen's apartment weighing the goods I'll be FedEx-ing to Long Beach. All I can say for now is that they A LOT. A bit chilly. Hope to hit the streets after lunch. Have one more museum of importance for me to go to - the Whitney. But it's also nice to kick back after all the hectic stuff of the last two weeks. It's been great.

Alright, I have to admit. I am just: a) too lazy to post; b) too tired to post; c) too uninspired to post. But right now, my internal navigator is none of the three. My last two days in the East Coast and I have to make the most out of it. So it'll be museum-and-other-stuff time. Aileen my current host has to go to sleep in a while because she has to wake up at around 5 am for work. Me, on the other hand, has the whole day to decide whether I bum at her apartment for the day or hit the museums. Should the latter option be the case, the options are the Guggenheim and the MET. Whitney would have to be on Wednesday because it's closed tomorrow. Aileen was great enough to draw me a map of the crucial streets and avenues to hit.

Am sleepy. By the way, for bopis: I got Gadamer's Truth and Method for you. Durga also added Gaiman's American Gods for you. Couldn't remember which one you already had. I have it with me nevertheless.

Before I have my Smirnoff Ice and fall asleep

I was supposed to type this last night but the discussion was already too heated to leave: cigarettes and sex DO go together.

Well, at least a very, very frank discussion of sex, in this case. Which I will not care to go into detail. So what was the point of bringing it up in the first place? I don't know. Except that this really comes rare with this bunch of friends that I have. I have this thinking that since we knew each other from high school, we would like to keep this 'pristine' image of each other. Which is just plain hooey.

My friends who have witnessed my bout with asthma last year will really frown upon this. I had four sticks last night. Really couldn't help it. I was with three chimneys and the long conversation at the diner did it. By the time we went home, I reached for one.

And another. And another. And yet another. Over a bottle of Riesling. Hay, the simple things in life.

Oh, the 'debate'? We had opposite views on what was happening to a friend of ours and it could have gone really nasty had we not decided to quit the topic. It was already getting lethal, as lethal as discussing religion and/or politics.

Haay, am getting wayward with blogging again, methinks.

I think Durga is already asleep. Would have to share the Smirnoff with Venilda, I guess.