I wasn't born yesterday but today, somehow, I wish I was. I mean, literally. Think about it. If I was born yesterday, in just two months, it is going to be the end of the world. And I won't remember anything or feel anything when that happens. And if it is not the end of the world, then I might just be able to reach the age where I can drive any kind floating device. (I believe in Verne's world view of the future.)
But to be honest, a future promised with floaty chairs is not even one of my concerns right now. It doesn't even make the list. (Yes. There's a list. It's a short one.) I am currently shaking things off it one by one. Top of the list would be my manuscript. It has always been. But somehow, I managed ways to avoid it until I came to the point where my adviser is going out on a hunt for my head. (This could be literal by the way.) I just won't do it. Every inch of my body is refusing to finish it. I just submitted my first draft on the deadline of submitting a COMPLETE manuscript. My work was a far cry from being a manuscript - from being complete. I submitted it yesterday and not even in person. I had a friend do it for me because I was thousands of miles away from school. (I'm in my hometown right now.) And to make things worse, my friend had an earful of my adviser. My adviser was suppose to be yelling at me and not my friend since I was the screw-up but what the hell, she did it anyways. (Sometimes I think she is the incredible Hulk minus the skin turning green.) I really feel sorry for my friend. I'm thinking of ways to make it up to him. The only way I can think about it through pasalubong. (I am such a horrible person.)
Today, I woke up at 4 am and found myself contemplating on the events that transpired that dreadful dreadful day. I know in my heart that this phase will pass. It will cover a chapter in my life called "Stop, Go and then Stop". It will start with the opening sentence, "My adviser wanted to kill me but fortunately, she didn't." But I really believe that there is something wrong with me to not want to see this hellish manuscript come to an end.
The first thought that came to my mind was every student's reason not to do his/her manuscript - laziness. Yes. I'll admit. I was lazy with my manuscript. But only with my manuscript. For the first time in my college life, I had loads of free time. At first, I thought, "Yeah! I could easily finish my acads with this much time." Then I realized I had time to go see concerts and exhibits and shows. Then little did I notice I was busy looking for jobs, painting, writing and whatever thing I had in the spur of the moment. And again, I found myself out of time. There was not enough time to do my thesis. But I'll be honest. I had never been this happy and excited to do things. I have so much ideas that I just want to do them and see them become tangible and be out there. To hell with my manuscript. (I know I sound really selfish but who cares! I surely don't!)
I remember this line from the movie She's the Man, "If you want to chase your dreams, sometimes you have to break the rules."
I was never the quitter. I never quit anything in life. Surely, I will not quit with my manuscript. But I'm done. I'm done with the academe. I'm done with this Chemistry shit. So it is important and it has many contributions and it helps educate society and surely it matters to those who loves it but I'M DONE! I get nothing from this. NOTHING. And quite frankly, I get pissed off with people who think that drawing is only just a freaking hobby! I know they mean well when they say, "You can do so much. You can't just draw all your life." Well, screw you. I want to draw all my life. IT'S MY LIFE. And what is it with people constantly telling you what you can and can't do and laughing at your dreams.
I am going to make a declaration.
This will not be the end of me. I am going to be a great illustrator and writer... AN ARTIST, damn it! I'm going to do whatever it takes to live it and make it. And everyone will know. And I'm going to be happy with my life. The happiest I'll ever be. So the hell with you side notes, comments, "suggestions". I'M DONE.
In my next blog, I'll bet your bones. I'm gonna be making something. And it's going to be great!
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Kudos to Keane
October 2, 2012
I have been passing up concerts since the moment I decided
that I wanted to save for one. Back in 2009 when I heard that Incubus was going
to perform in Manila, I remembered shrieking for joy and giggling like a
girly-girl out of elation. Incubus, for me, tops all. I mean, surely, some
might protest but this is my blog. My opinion. So suck it. I know all their
albums, songs and events. I would admit that I have fallen from my duties
lately. I have not been updated with their new album and gigs but I’m currently
getting back on that. Since the enlightening sound cocktail of 2010 and 2011 (I
call it that because I spent those years looking for new sounds and I was kind-of
listening with an “open mind”, whatever that meant), I, in a way, slowly
drifted off into new things. Of course, I still had Incubus at heart… always.
But Incubus isn’t just the band I enjoy listening to,
there’s Kings of Leon, The Fray, Good Charlotte, The Kooks, Young the Giant and,
of course, Keane. (These are just a few of the male bands that I like. The list
is endless.) I first heard of Keane back in 2006. I was watching Grey’s Anatomy
and their song, Somewhere Only We Know, was used as background music in one of
the scenes.
Scene from Grey's Anatomy Season 1.
I fell in love with it instantly. There must be something
about the lyrics that caught my attention.
“Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that
I’ve been dreaming of?...” I guess that was it.
When it came to music, it was always the lyrics for me. The
beat would come in second. And Keane had this way of writing lyrics and adding
that with a nice refreshing tune and I could just get their song stuck in my
head for days. Honestly, I didn’t care if it did. I would have that rather than
have a Justin Bieber or Carly Rae Jepsen song on my head. No
offense to the fans. Just not my type of music. It was after a week of
Somewhere Only We Know singing repeated inside my head that I downloaded their
first album, Hopes and Fears. And ever since, I have been hooked, constantly
drugged by their lyrics and taken up high with their tune.
The news of their concert, Strangeland, had not yet reached
my ears until three weeks ago. I was busy with exams and planning my
moving-out-of-the-apartment when a friend told me that she was going to buy
tickets for the concert. I had apprehensions, of course, such as how much would
a ticket cost, when would the concert be (because I have exams) and where were
we going to stay after the concert. But deep in my subconscious, I knew. I
badly wanted to go. And as I thought it through, it dawned on me. This is my
last year. In a month, I’m moving out of my apartment – out of the academic
life and into the real world. The real world. Sends shiver down my spine. I’ll
figure that one later. Anyways… I had my mind already set. I will go to the
concert no matter what. (And I proved that in a way. See blog: The revel of the
rain and the discovery of self-cleaning shoes.)
We arrived two and a half hours early at the venue. In that
span of time, we ate at food stalls and walked around the Mall of Asia. During
the walk, I noticed a new attraction down by the bay. They called it the MOA-i
(if I’m correct). It was a huge Ferris wheel with white round compartments big
enough for 4 to 6 people. (I would like to ride it…someday.) We had mainly
circled, maybe 1/5, of the MOA grounds when we decided to go back with our
friends who haven’t finished eating yet. Light banter here and there and a few
more minutes of walking and then it was concert time.
We got inside the arena and found ourselves at the end of a
very long line. What did we expect in the general admission? We did not care,
though. We were too excited to think about the line.
Ten minutes later, we were ushered to our seats which turned
out to be a funny event. See, my friends and I got really confused with the
instructions that the usher told us that when we finally arrived at the ground
we found ourselves lining up at the patron’s entrance. I was really nervous
because, for the obvious reason, we did not pay for patron. We paid for general
admission – the opposite of patron. When we got our seats, I kept looking left
and right, thinking that any moment a bouncer would grab us by the collar and
drag us to the door. Very unlady-like. Very scary. The idea made me very anxious.
I was nursing the anxiety for 30 minutes until the lights finally went out. All
at once, the anxiety just went away.
My friend knew the set-list that Keane was going to play.
I’m going to be honest. I don’t know most of the lyrics to
these songs except those that came from Hopes and Fears and Stop for a Minute
(which is stuck in my head at this very moment). I have never shouted so loud
my life. I took a video of the concert and I could hear myself screaming at the
top of my voice. I sounded deranged but ecstatic, nonetheless. I know I should
feel a tinge of embarrassment. I mean, that’s what every normal human being
should feel after discovering something unusual in their behaviour. But I
don’t. The sensation when I was lost in the blinking colored lights, the
pulsing up-beat music and the crisp enchanting voice of Tom Chaplin (Dear Tom,
I want to meet you in person and thank you for creating and singing songs such
as these) was intoxicatingly good that I don’t feel ashamed about the yelling
and the giggling and the whatever I did in the concert.
Bottom line, it was very liberating and I plan on attending
their next concert whenever they’re going to have it. And this time, I would
know every single word of every single song that they are going to sing. That I
guarantee.
The Revel of the Rain and Self-Cleaning Shoes
October 2, 2012
The sky was dark and the clouds were low but some people sure did not mind – some people meaning me and my friends. We were Manila bound to watch the Keane concert that was going to be held at the Arena, Mall of Asia. It was fairly dry that morning and relatively warm around noon but knowing the Los Baños (that is in Laguna) weather, I knew it in my heart that it would rain anytime that afternoon. Well, not really heart (I apologize for the sappy expression). I think it was more like an intuition or I just knew how to read cloud formations. (I should get a job as a weather girl. Anyways…)
We left at around 3 pm. It was already drizzling by then. And we arrive at 5:30 pm at the Mall of Asia.
The concert would not start until 8 pm so we had time to kill. We were walking around the grounds when I noticed that my flats were frothing at the rim. The first thing that went to my head was, “Where the hell have I been stepping?”
See, I have this thing where I’m walking and I don’t really look at where I’m going so sometimes I end up with a foot on a puddle or some hole. I did try and be more careful but, hey, we have flaws. All God’s children. So I just wiped the bubbles off and walked on. I did not dwell on it much since, at that moment, I was wrapped in this overwhelming feeling of being at the concert and seeing Keane live for the first time. To make this event more monumental, this would be the very first concert that was done by an international artist that I was very much looking forward to go to. The hype was on and my speculations about the origin of the bubbles abruptly evaporated. Nothing was going to stray me from Keane. All systems on go. This was it! (see blog: Kudos to Keane)
Eventually, the concert ended and we had to head back. Since it was very late, a friend offered us his home where we could stay for the night. Honestly, he did not have much choice. There was no way we could get back to Laguna at that hour of the night. There would definitely be no buses by the time the jeepney arrived at the bus station.
After getting off the jeepney, my friends and I walked for a few blocks. While we were walking, I had this tingling sensation in my toes like that feeling whenever I wash my clothes – the way my hands feel with all the detergent. I looked down and I saw the damn bubbles again but this time, it covered half my foot. My friends noticed it too and they asked me what was happening with my foot. Well, they did not ask me how I got the bubbles. They were more accusatory that I did not know how to rinse after I wash my stuff. I told them that I rinsed it. I remember rinsing it. I think I remember rinsing it. But my defense did not level and I ended up accepting the thought that, hey, at least I clean my shoes on a regular basis. Do you?
There were still a few blocks more and the frothing was becoming heavy. It was quite the spectacle. I was beginning to feel my face flush. Thank God it happened at night. There weren’t many people on the road and it was dark so I thought (more like hoped) no one noticed. (That’s a weird thing to be thankful about especially at night and we were in a place we weren’t familiar of… I was not familiar of.) We finally got to my friend’s house and there I decided to rinse the now fluffy bedtime slippers. For dinner, we ate meatloaf and bacon which tasted like breakfast in a 5 star hotel (I have never been in a 5 star hotel but I assume that the food there would be exemplary). We really did not expect the dinner. Well, I didn’t. I was thinking arriving at the place, borrowing a shirt and sleeping on the couch kind of deal. I think our deal just got sweeter. I was so tired that I dosed off before I was able to revisit the pictures from the concert.
We were all sluggish the next day. None of us wanted to go back. I think we still suffered from the hangover that was Keane. (The concert was just -- it took me on a new high. Not that kind of high. I was never high… ever.) I was hoping that my jeans and shoes would have dried by then but the rain has been pouring since the concert and I had a feeling it was not planning to back down anytime soon. There was no helping it. I wore my very cold jeans and very damp shoes and had to kick my butt awake to go back to Laguna. I knew it was going to be a long chilly trip. I wasn’t even praying that the rain would stop. I guess I just did not mind. The concert was still buzzing in my head. It was a good thing that I had my player with me so I could relive the moment. (Oh Tom…)
We were back on the same path we took last night. I had almost forgotten about the bubbling incident when my friends pointed it out again. I told them that I had rinsed it last night and I swore that I did not see any more bubbles. Obviously, the once-again-present bubbles forming on the surface of my shoes did not strengthen my case. And to make it worse, it was day time. There were more people on the streets and I knew what they were looking at. I knew what they were smirking about. They had the same look my friends had. Damn the rain and my inability to rinse properly. And then it hit me.
Self-cleaning shoes!
Imagine: You’re a busy person, lots of stuff to do, meetings, appointments yada yada. You’re too busy and you’re too focused on work. You don’t care about the elements. You could not care much about rain. So it’s out of your list. Out of mind. But then, you just can’t help it, it rains. And your shoes become soaked and filthy but you don’t have the time. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the Self-cleaning shoes! Comes with its own detergent! All you need is rain water and voila! In a minute or two of walking, your shoes will instantly clean itself! Try it now! Money back guaranteed! (I watch a lot of the shopping channel. I know. It’s sad.)
Wouldn’t that fun? I documented the phenomenon when I was finally at my apartment. I did not document it a while back because I’m extremely cautious about taking out gadgets on public. Electronic gadgets are hot on the eyes if you know what I mean. Plus, I always take public transportation so flaunting my camera is a no-no. Here are a few pictures and a video.
Shoes with bubbles.
Bubbles formed as I walked
I’m looking forward to seeing this idea take flight. I mean, it’s not a bad idea. It’s not the smartest either but it could be something (I hope). I could hope, right?
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