Wednesday, June 29, 2005
my o my, it's a Gymboree day!
I took Ananda to her Gymwalkers class this afternoon in Gymboree, Rockwell. It's an hour-long class for toddlers and their guardians with a bunch of different activities (climbing, crawling through tunnels, balancing on things, playing with toys, being rocked and swayed) and sing-alongs. She was such a good girl! She was happy, and was even clapping her hands throughout. She never cried, not even once, and she was one of the more cooperative children in her class. :-) Funny how all the boys in Ananda's class are iyakin while all the girls seem a bit braver and more dynamic.
Gymboree is so much fun! I get to bond with my niece, and be around equally cute little babies for an hour as they clamber about their plush, rainbow playground. Kids are so full of life! All that positive life-energy just rubs off on me. It also teaches me to see the world through a child's eyes again, when the world was still a gigantic wonderland. When do we get so jaded?
What I also love about babies is how their reactions are so pure. They can be crying one minute, then be laughing the next when they spot something that's interesting or amusing. They live in the present. They hold on to no bitterness or pain, and don't make themselves complicated. As my dad would probably say, they've got a "zen" state of mind.
I really don't mind taking my niece there every week. I don't even mind singing along to all the children's songs, and having to talk in a high-pitched, sing-song voice the whole time (I've learned that kids really like that kind of voice). I relish every opportunity to be a doting aunt.
Afterwards, we ate at the Powerplant food court and she ran around saying "hi" to everyone. She even let Nino carry her around the mall while she ate a marie biscuit and got the crumbs all over her face! As always, everyone thought she was my baby (they must think I'm a really skinny mommy).
She's been so sweet lately, and it's my joy to spend time with her every morning. She plays around the house all day giggling, babbling and trying to communicate with everyone. Sometimes, she'll spontaneously run to me and hug my legs while looking up at me smiling. Such a happy and malambing kid!
She's so grown-up already. Just yesterday she was learning how to crawl. Now she's running all over, and climbing anything she can climb, and "talking" with her imbento words.
Ananda's made-up language:
-"Maman" means "water in a glass" or "I want to drink".
-"Bap" is her word for "lift me up" or "put me down". We theorize that's it's combo of "baba" (down) and "up".
-"Nan" means "none"... almost phonetically alike. When you ask her "where's mama?" and mama is not in the room, she'll say "nan".
-"Nana" means "no more".
- And "bub" is her failed attempt at pronouncing the word "pig". She hasn't quite gotten her P's worked out yet. It's funny because when she tries to say the word pig, you can see her concentrating really hard and right when you think her lips are about to form the correct sound...she says "bub".
Haaaay! The joys of aunt-hood, I tell you. These kids, they'll kill you with their cuteness!giving back
It's almost my blog's 2nd anniversary! My blog was born on July 15, 2003, during my anguished junior year of college. It wasn't something I acknowledged last year, but now I think it would be cool to do something about my blog reaching another milestone. After all, it's something I've devoted much of my time to. I've posted 136 entries. That's something worth celebrating!
Besides, I know this blog won't last forever. I'll eventulaly tire of it or be forced to move on to more important things.
So, to celebrate my blog's 2nd birthday, I thought that a nice theme would be "Giving Back": a chance for me to give back to all you readers who so patiently read my entries, and chance for you readers to tell me something about yourself (after all, I've been talking about myself for two years, so maybe it's time I learn something about you).
So, here's a little something I invite you all to participate in!
The RulesStep 1: Compose an e-mail to ala_paredes@yahoo.com.
Step 2: In the subject box (yes, the subject box, please), answer this question: Given that law and order do not exist, what shameless desire would you fulfill?
Ex. "Subject: I would swim naked in a pool of jello", or "Subject: I would make out with the security guard at the entrance to our village because I have had a crush on him for years".
There are no rules as to how daring you are allowed to be. You may send in only 1 entry.
Step 3: In the body of the e-mail, write your complete snail mail address (with zip code please). Send!
I will choose the 5 I like best. The prize? It's not much but at least it's something I made myself: a colored print-out of any original artwork of your choice from my Deviant Art gallery.
Please read instructions carefully and try to follow them. Thanks :-)
Sound fair enough? At least I get to know something about you! ;-) And I get to give back to at least a few of my frequent visitors. Winners to be anounced on July 15, 2005!Islamusik is now online!
Visit islamusik.multiply.com for updates, schedules, and a behind-the-scenes look at the show! Feel free to link it.
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at 11:06 AM 20 Comments!
Sunday, June 26, 2005
not everyone wants to steal a celphone
It finally happened today. After 7 long years, I guess it was bound to happen sometime. Time makes one careless. It happens to everyone eventually. I had it coming.
I lost my celphone. In Glorietta.
It took me almost a full hour before I realized it wasn't in my purse anymore. And when I couldn't find it in my purse, or in any of shopping bags, I knew I had to accept the truth. I was just like everyone else who had lost their phones: irresponsible, casual... I had let my guard down. And it happened. It was my fault.
Initially, what rose inside me was panic. All my business contacts were in there. How would I contact clients? How would they contact me?
What about my pictures? My phone numbers? Was some guy bluetoothing everything to his phone? Were Lucky Manzano or Bianca Gonzales beginning to receive weird messages from a stalker (their numbers are on my phone, along with other high-profile people). :-p
Strangely enough, after the initial panic died down, I felt a kind of relief. I was free! I was no longer obligated to respond to texts, I could no longer be reached from any corner of the earth, I no longer had to be a slave to a gadget that half the time seemed like a whiny child constantly begging for attention. I was free, free, free... for the mean time at least.
My friend Sib, however, had enough presence of mind to call my number on his phone and to his surprise, a guy answered. He handed me the phone.
"Hello?", I said.
"Where are you?", said a male voice. "I am in Glorietta. Tell me where you are so I can return your phone."
In shock and disbelief, I asked "Sino ho ito?" but the line got fuzzy and he hung up on me. Then he texted me: txt me wer u r so i can return ur fone.
To make a long story short, I met up with him at The Body Shop. He was a young guy of average height, clutching a Doc Martens plastic bag in one hand, and my phone in the other. He handed it over, and I took it while stammering extremely grateful thank-yous. I had meant to offer him a token of some sort, for his honesty, but before I could really think, he turned around left. I didn't even get his name.
A few minutes later, I got a text from a stranger saying: i was almost tempted to keep it. hehehe.
Naughty man.
I eventually learned his name, and I eventually learned that he had actually called my father up (got his number from my directory) asking how he could return it. He also spoke to my boyfriend. My father and my boyfriend both knew my phone was missing about half an hour before I realized it was gone. I also found out that I had accidentally left it in between the pages of a magazine in a boutique, and that's where he had found it.
I've already told him that he was a good person, and that I was incredibly grateful for what he did. But I'd like to give him props here:
Edrick Nicdao of the Development Bank of the Philippines is an honest man and did a great thing today. How many people would actually return a lost celphone nowadays, instead of selling it illegally (which has become the sad and sorry fate of the hundreds of celphones stolen each day). Thank you, Edrick. May good kharma come to you! I will find some way to repay you.
Cynicism towards our fellow men abound nowadays but today I was reminded that honest people still exist. My faith in humanity has been rekindled somewhat.
The last text I got from him said: dnt worry, di ko pinakialam yan. Didnt even want to return it to nino. Bka pakialamanan. I know privacy.
I'm taking his word for it. :-) My sincerest thanks to Edrick Nicdao!because i was tagged
In 3s
I was tagged by Diane.
Three names you go by:
1. Ala
2. Alalita
3. Als
Three screen names you have had:
1. Alamander
2. Lala0range
3. HappyDream
Three physical things you like about yourself:
1. Hair
2. Lankiness
3. Skin
Three physical things you don't like about yourself:
1. Feet
2. Knees
3. Ankles
Three parts of your heritage:
1. Spanish
2. Chinese
3. Portugese
Three things that scare you:
1. Not getting to do what I really want to do
2. Making bad decisions
3. Failing myself
Three of your everyday essentials:
1. Powerbook
2. Phone (sadly)
3. Tsinelas
Three of your favorite musical artists:
1. Dave Matthews
2. Billy Holiday
3. Led Zeppelin
Three of your favorite songs:
1. "Last Goodbye", Jeff Buckley
2. "Somebody to Love", Queen
3. "War of the Skies", Mishka Adams
Three things you want in a relationship:
1. Unconditional love (impossible to achieve in a lifetime, but still an ideal many people strive for)
2. Acceptance
3. Growth
Three lies and truths in no particular order:
LIES:
1. You know everything about me from what I write on this blog.
2. I wish I had bigger breasts.
3. I'm unhappy in my current relationship.
TRUTH:
1. Every bad thing my sister has ever done to me in the past is forgiven for the gift of my inaanak :-)
2. I'm jealous of people who are doing exactly what I want to do.
3. No matter how you may box me in or label me as anything... you really don't know the half of it. Not at all.
Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to you:
1. Hair... I like it curly. I don't know why. It's just sexy and interesting that way. At ayoko ng clean-cut.
2. Nice, delicate cheek bones... nice facial structure.
3. Broad shoulders.
Three of your favorite hobbies:
1. Internet
2. Drawing
3. Singing/ soundtrip
Three things you want to do really badly now:
1. Sleep
2. Move out of the house
3. Own a car
Three careers you're considering/you've considered:
1. Theater actor
2. Psychologist/ counselor (strangely enough)
3. starving artist (hahaha!)
Three places you want to go on vacation:
1. Brazil
2. Peru
3. Rome
Three kid's names you like:
1. Ulan
2. Tala
3. Amihan
(I want to add more hehe)
4. Chloe
5. Amaya
6. Alon
Three things you want to do before you die:
1. Form a band that kicks butt
2. Hold an art exhibit
3. Publish a book
(4. Do what Angelina Jolie is doing with her UN Visa)
Three ways that you are stereotypically a boy:
1. I like admiring women. I'd rather look at naked women than naked men.
2. I think Salma Hayek is hot.
3. I like dressing up like a man and acting like a man when I have the chance to (i.e. costume parties)
Three ways that you are stereotypically a girl:
1. I dream about my wedding everyday
2. Very emotional
3. I love shoes, makeup, clothes!
Three celeb crushes:
1. Johnny Depp
2. Gael Garcia Bernal
3. Salma Hayek
***
My turn to tag...
FOUR people that I would like to see take this quiz:
1. Cat
2. Papa!
3. Pimee
4. Patring
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Friday, June 24, 2005
yodeleyi-hee-hoo!
Who needs college? Everything you ever need to know in life, you can learn from the internet. Google can answer any "how to" query possible. "How to skin a cat", "How to dress emo", and "How to make haggis".
On a whim last night, I typed in "How to yodel" and was promptly brought to this page! It's an online course from levels one to ten on how to yodel Alpine-style, which I discovered is different from the cowboy style of yodeling. The site has step by step instructions, sheet music for you to follow, and even MP3s for reference!
In case you don't know what a yodel is, it's a falsetto style of singing that sounds like "Yodeleyi-hee-hoo!"
Remember that old song by Jeremiah called "Nanghihinayang"? Remember how the chorus goes: "Nanghihinayang, nanghihinayang ang puso ko". Pay attention to how the singer delivers the first word in the chorus, switching into an abrupt head tone on the last syllable of the word "nanghihinayang". That sounds a bit like a cowboy yodel. One excellent example, however, would be the music of an artist called Slim Whitman whom I discovered only last night (try LimeWiring him, he is an excellent reference).
Alpine yodelling is different. The very best Alpine yodellers are like the Malmsteens of the yodelling world.Maangas! To hear for yourself, try searching for the following keywords on Limewire and you're bound to stumble upon some of these Alpine virtuosos: "yodelling songs of the swiss alps appenzeller yodel"
Since then, the Swiss yodelling bug has bitten me and my brother Mio. I've been downloading Alpine mountaineer yodelling songs since last night. Believe me, there's a whole world or yodelling out there that we haven't discovered! This archipelago has yet to spawn its first real yodel-singer!
Is this entry getting too silly for you already? Don't laugh! Yodelling is fine art, based on sound vocal technique! Don't knock it till you've tried it! Give it a listen. After you're done laughing your ass off silly, you'll really be forced to admit that some of those Swiss goatherd yodellers are pretty, darn amazing.
So, step out of your listening comfort zone and get into the Alpine groove! Not only will it teach you a thing or two about European culture, it'll also make your friends smile! Plus, you never know, it just might be the music of the future, and you can say you discovered it first (now that's avante gard!). :-p
***correction from my father: We already have a Filipino yodeller: Fred Panopio.the hair ad
Just to clarify, said upcoming shampoo as isn't really a shampoo ad per se. It's a campaign that involves shampoo but I'm not endorsing the shampoo. I'm not even the lead, and there won't be any cheesy, slow-motion shots of me flipping my hair over my shoulder. So like I said, it's only a small victory for kulot, not a great victory. That giant leap for kulot-kind is still to come.Haha!on IslaMusik tomorrow..
Do you like Grace Nono, Pinikpikan, Joey Ayala, and their contemporaries? Plug into the Philippine world music scene tomorrow on IslaMusik, ABC 5, Saturday, 6PM! And if you've never heard of them, do yourselves a favor by watching. It'll make you proud ;-)
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Wednesday, June 22, 2005
a nice, little victory for kulot
In the span of a week, I've had three shoots for TVCs and two photoshoots. Three ads in one week is definitely a first for me. You cannot imagine how physically exausted I am, how large my eye bags are, how dry my hair is, and how my skin looks like it's been used to clean the floor. I don't think I want to wear make-up for the next three months.
I didn't sleep for three out of seven days this week, due to overnight shoots and, well, Fete (I couldn't miss it, could I?). After a morning photoshoot, we'd be on the next location in the afternoon for hair and makeup, start rolling the cameras at around 9:30, before wrapping up sometime around 8am. For three days this week, I was up for at least 40 hours at a time. I feel so out of whack. The gym hasn't seen me in two weeks.
Wish I could disclose the details, but as always, we're dictated by contract to keep things confidential. Let's just say that when this next ad comes out, I will be the first curly haired person in a Philippine shampoo campaign, due to my own audacious insistence of course. It was almost an ultimatum on my part. Thank goodness they were understanding, and didn't think I was being a diva, and didn't iron my do staight. I praise them for their open-mindedness.
I've never made any requests on how I should look in an ad until recently. Frankly, it's up to the client and stylist to decide. It depends on what they want. I'm just the model. Besides, I really don't mind stylists changing my hair texture temporarily if a role or project calls for a certain look. But I draw the line at anything involving shampoo. For shampoo, the hair has got to be curly, no questions asked.
That's the last thing I'll write about hair for awhile. It's getting a bit tiring. Or maybe I'm just tired because I've been up since 9 am, June 20, with only short naps in between. It is now 12:41 am, June 22. Whew!
I need an entire week of good rest... and maybe a nice massage (that hint is for a certain bassist reads my blog and is also kulot)
I'm going to sleep. I shouldn't even have written this entry in the first place.
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Tuesday, June 21, 2005
fete pictures as promised
12
3
1. me likey big, anti-paparazzi shades (as if). 2. my doll-like cousin, Elaine. 3. some of my obnoxious American cousins (haha, they know I'm kidding).
Can anyone tell me who this man is???
He was dancing front and center on the ledge at the world stage. Before that, he was seen in a nude-colored, spandex body suit holding up a sign that said "Define love!". I've seen him at other events, always with the elf ears that mismatch horribly with his natural skin tone. Is he an "Okay Ka Fairy Ko" fan? A Legolas wannabe? Did he hitchike here from the North Pole? Is he campaigning for world peace? Is he anti-GMA? What statement is he trying to make? What????
And this was from yesterday:
I adore this boy. He is such a sweet heart! And such a good sport. You can tease him about anything and he'll just laugh (most 15 year olds would get picon). And what a cutie!!! Bisaya pa!this is a little shameless but it's worth a try
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* put your comments on the previous entry please. it's disabled here.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Fete means sweat!
*pictures to follow tomorrow, so please come back!
Another amazing Fete come and gone, the only night on earth when the youth spill out into El Pueblo and it's surrounding streets, in the name of peace, love, and good, live music! It was a balmy June evening, with humidity levels reaching an all-time high and in the words of Lourd de Veyra of Radioactive Sago, lahat ng tao amoy medyas. But that didn't stop music lovers (and beer lovers as well) from squeezing into the crowd of thousands in El Pueblo.
This was the first time where I really made the most out of ever second of it, and tried as hard as I could to see every artist I loved play. In fact, I even made 7 of my cousins agree to share the cost of a room in Discovery Suites just so we would have a rest station to help us last the night. And last the night I did!
Here are my Fete high-lights:
Finally got to see Shards of Ice play. I first heard about them when they started recording in our studio, and since then have been hearing alot of "They're good but ...". So they're teenagers, they're British, they're into Metallica, they want to bring back the old-school metal sound, and I heard that they claimed a little imprudently in an interview that they formed the band because there are no "real" metal bands in the Philippines (much to the amusement/annoyance of the other older metal bands that very much exist). They've been getting alot of attention, and they record in our studio, so I was curious.
After seeing their set, what can I say: they've got it all! Who can resist a talented female drummer (or a talented female anything for that matter) with an ill hair-cut, a mysterious white bassist, and a guitarist/vocalist with a quasi-British accent (which makes him oh-so-commanding), a voice that has thankfully transitioned from that awkward in-between stage in adolescence, and a striking resemblance to Matteo Guidicelli!
As a band, they're a tiny, little powerhouse, and despite that they get alot of help from parents (one of them is supposedly a producer/ film-maker/ something), they've got something real to back up all that extra support. The only probable reasons why people would hate them, aside from said imprudent statement and the usual accusations of being "posers" from snotty metal purists, is that they're too godd*mn young/ inexperienced to have the right to rock out like that! (in case you missed the tongue-in-cheek tone, you can choose to take that last statement as a compliment)
Some have called them "feeling", but it made me smile to see such a young group living it up on stage like they really are rockstars. Real cute! Love 'em or hate 'em, they've got it all! (parang SM)
As always, a fantastic opening at the world stage with the great Cynthia Alexander! Too bad I had to leave her performance early to watch Nino play bass for The Out of Body Specials.
It was the first time to for new hiphop group The Out of Body Specials to play at the Fete, opening for the hip-hop stage. They're one of the few hiphop acts in the Philippines where the emcee/singer, Los, actually employs a live band instead of the usual minus-1. The results are kick-ass. They're just starting out, but Los is so unbelievably awesome and talented that he was a star by the end of the night. Congrats to Los for a great performance, and for making me interested in hiphop again after many years. They might have opened the Hiphop stage this year, but next year, they'll definitely be closing it! Check them out at their yahoogroups entitled Outbodyspecial!
I got to watch Razorback play, and haaaaaaaayyyyyy!!! The magic is alive once again! :-) They were good as ever, even after Kevin Roy got an electric shock from the mic. I will be their adoring fan girl forever!
And as always, Greyhoundz got every black-clad, long-haired angsty teenager pulverizing the mosh pit. Other performances I enjoyed were those of Sugarfree (everyone was singing!), and COG. And to my regret, I completely missed JR Kilat (darn!), Mishka Adams (the bar was packed!), and Sound.
I finally returned to our suite at Discovery at almost 5 in the morning, after dancing to Pinikpikan, the only group truly capable of getting me up on my feet (FYI, I'm a non-dancer. I'm too self-conscious). Amidst the smell of sweat, alcohol, and the occasional wiff of marijuana from someone lighting up nearby, I danced like there was no tomorrow. The sun was up by the time I collapsed into bed, but I was happy and had a natural buzz despite not having touched a single drop of alcohol all night. It's not that I don't drink. I was just having so much fun that I forgot to drink! Hahaha!
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Thursday, June 16, 2005
Hosted by Ala Paredes26 hours and still standing
I've been awake for for 26 hours by now, since 7am yesterday. Had a photo-shoot yesterday morning, followed by a TVC shoot that stretched till 8 am this morning. I'm writing to keep awake because I still have things to do the rest of the day. But I am so tempted to sleep... I know I mustn't.
I've shot overnight before and I didn't really handle it well the first time. I can honestly say I'm a good and hard worker but fatigue is my greatest enemy, not because it drains my body but because it drains me emotionally. You can take energizers to rev up a tired body but there's nothing much to be done about tired emotions. I get cranky, irritable, and begin to feel my forehead muscles tighten into a throbbing knot. It's so hard to look perky and happy on camera when you really just want to cry out of frustration. It shows on TV, too. Watching the playback of what we filmed this morning, all 4 of us talents looked so hagard and exhausted.
This wasn't the worst shoot of my life though. My worst shoot was for the well-known "GenTXT" ad that came out a couple years ago wherein we filmed from 5am till 43:0 am the next day. Afterwards, we were given 3 hours to go home and rest, before meeting up in another location to shoot some more. Needless to say, I was completely dysfunctional towards the end of the shoot, and couldn't really understand instructions anymore. .
So that enigmatic expression on my face in the last frame where I deliver the famous "R U 1 Of Us" catch phrase with the blinky blue eyes is actually just me with my vision going slightly blurry from exhaustion.
Bukas na yung FETE!!!! My most awaited yearly event. Don't forget to catch the Happy Meals at the rock stage at around 6, the Out of Body Specials at the hiphop stage at around 9, and Greyhoundz at 3 o' clock am. Kitakits!thank you
A very passionate reader posted a very meaningful comment on my last entry at 1:57 PM. It made me realize that you have truly reached a significant mark as a blogger when you can incite such a vitriolic gut-reaction from a reader, not even because of something you said, but just because of the mere fact that your blog exists. When they hide behind the name "anonymous" and even drag your defenseless 1-year old niece into the picture for the sheer pettiness of being able to call her nose "flat" and "ugly", it means you've really gone and touched people's hearts deeply, whether for the good or the bad.
Too bad he had to be so mean to Ananda though. I mean, what does she have to do with anything? Luckily, Ananda's feelings are unscathed. I discovered that she couldn't care less about what people think of her nose. I even asked her if she was hurt by what Mr. Anonymous said, and she just gurgled and laughed and drooled. That's my girl!
Once the haters come in, you know you've made it! I am truly proud that I have left my mark. Thank you to the people who contribute to my 700 plus hits a day. I've been writing on this blog for 2 years and never expected it to become one of the most visited blogs in the Philippines (acccording to a survey). I never expected people to enjoy my long and often self-centered entries, or to have the patience to read my smart aleck opinions. Yet, the readers still keep increasing despite my horrible spelling (I always make the mistake of spelling the word "which" without the "h" after the "w"), and my occcasional bad writing. It's absolute injustice isn't it? No wonder I get such angry commentors who feel compelled keep coming back to my blog anyway. Oh well, life just ain't fair I guess. It's a shame.
Salamat sa inyong lahat, for coming back to read even with the slight inconvenience of being labeled a dog occassionally by a certain commentor for saying you enjoy what I write. I'm sorry that I do nothing to stop it. I like to keep my comment box free (which is what it's all about anyway).
I love all my "dogs", even the angry, rabid ones. :-)
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Sunday, June 12, 2005
musical diplomacy
Music. Everyone's got something to say about it. Everyone's got their own preferences, and their own opinions of which artists should be revered as saints or great philosophers, and which ones should be tortured, impaled with a mic stand, tied to a stake, and roasted. Indeed, people can get very passionate about what they feed into their stereo/ ipod. But while most people will let a negative comment about their favorite artist slide, some people are willing to shed blood, and fight tooth and nail, in honor of, say, Metallica, or Sandara Park, or David Pomeranz.
Music is an odd, odd thing. Some have called it the language of the soul, and yet it's something manufactured, packaged, and bought in a store. Artists are hailed as great examples for us to follow, or purveyors or wisdom, but they themselves are also products we consume. Music is a personal experience, and yet much of what we hear on the mainstream is programmed to be "pop", and therefore easily liked by all. So what is this thing called music, and what drives people to total worship or hatred towards some artists? Or more importantly, why do people go ballistic when someone criticizes their favorite singer, or when someone wrongly categorizes their favorite music. Labeling Avril Lavigne "punk" for example brought on many a violent outcry from professed punks, "She's not punk! She's a poser!" and blah blah blah.
Which brings me to share a little story with you. Last week, I was at home having dinner with my family, and my next-door neighbour was over. Now this next-door neighbour's music of choice is hip-hop, and it has been so for about the past 15 years. It's a preference that she shares with my sister Erica, her best friend. Our conversation turned to music, and eventually to my boyfriend's band, Greyhoundz. On a whim, she brashly blurted out that they were basically nothing but "ingay", "gulo", and "jologs".
I always thought I was cool about that sort of thing. I even laugh at people who defend their music like they're defending religion. I know not everyone is crazy over Greyhoundz (and neither is everyone crazy over hip-hop), and it wasn't the first time I've had someone express outright distaste right to my face, and it's been cool with me. Sure, I understand, grinding guitars and primal vocals aren't your cup of tea. Even Nino himself is cool with it.
But at that particular instance, I surprised myself by reacting viciously. I called her "closed-minded", and told her hip-hop music was "canned music", and asked her how she'd feel if I called her own hip-hop friends "jologs" to her face. Maybe I was momentarily possessed by the devil. I don't know. I was a bit embarrassed after, but couldn't help but feel personally offended. She must've been embarrassed too because she took it all back and said that only the people who watch are "jologs" and not the music (to which I replied, "Yeah right").
Afterwards, I though about why I reacted that way. One obvious reason was because this was my boyfriend's band in question. But I knew that wasn't really it. I was cool with that sort of thing. It could be because I felt like she had just dissed what I've devoted all my weekends to within the past 5 years (dingy rock bars are where I'm usually at, and no I've never been to Embassy). That was sort of it, but not really. Then it came to me.
It didn't matter to me whether or not she actually liked the music. What I did mind was that she didn't even take into account that this ingay was in fact, a bunch of really talented, and respected musicians who had worked very, very hard on the three albums they've released; and these so-called "jologs", their fanbase, were the thousands of people, rich and poor, that they had inspired and changed with their music, and were the reason why Greyhoundz still tours all over the Philippines even during the time when they hadn't come out with any new material in what seemed like ages. The music may not fit your taste, but you must acknowledge that they have one of the most respected bassists in the Philippine rock scene (ahem), that thousands came to mourn when they lost their guitarist in a tragic car crash, and that their vocalist is capable of getting a stadium of 20,000 people alive and jumping. It's ingay to some, but to other people, it's the stuff that touches their heart and soul.
Ok, before I continue on, I'm not writing this to blame my neighbour for her reaction. In fact, my main point is that I am absolutely guilty of the same thing. I have said some pretty nasty things about music I don't like, on a whim. Why? Because I really think it sucks. And also because it's fun to bash lousy artists, and the people who like them. Bashing will always be an inseparable part of a music lover. The only difference between me and my neighbour is that she just happened to say it to my face.
I'll be even more honest about some things (here's the part where you can start fighting me):1) I don't hate hiphop, but I don't like alot of it. I used to listen to hiphop years ago, and I understand that there are amazingly witty emcees out there who have transformed hiphop into a great poetic and political medium, and who use actual musicians to play the music they rap to. But these people are rare and hidden. Most of the hiphop that bursts into the mainstream is garbage. How many old songs can you sample to create another unoriginal beat or chorus? How many times can you use the same old glib lyrics over and over again, and how many songs about money, women, and sex can you make in one musical genre? How many English words can you mispell? I know gangsta' rap is a thing of the past, but surely even a Greyhoundz song doesn't get as profane and mysoginistic as many a rap song.
2) I think house, trance, and techno (whatever the difference between all three are) all sound like doogsh-dagsh-doogsh-dagsh-doogsh, and I think it is soul-less. I don't understand why people pay 500 bucks to get into Big Fish.
3) I hated the entire acoustic craze because of the great lack of originality. Also, it's wussy.
4) Me, Nino, and Mio regularly bash emo and its followers because it's just so funny to bash emo.
5) I like John Pizzarelli.
Yes, these are all opinions that float readily in the very surface of my consciousness. If you asked me casually what I think of these genres I just mentioned, I will probably answer with what I just wrote. But...!
Despite these personal opinions, I'm really very open-minded. Really. Music in itself amazes me and I want to hear and experience as much of it as I can in my lifetime. There's so much you can do with sound, so much you can communicate. I absolutely hate being typecasted as liking only one genre (alot of people are quick to call me "the rocker chick", and while I love rock, it's not even what plays on my stereo more than half the time). I like to think that I choose my music by artist, not by genre. That way, I'm not trapped.
Even if I may have my own gut-opinions on hiphop, trance, emo, and accoustic, I haven't totally closed my mind to any of them and would be excited if anyone could redeem them for me. I may like them some day.
In a world where different genres of music are like different countries fighting to defend their turf, I try to be a diplomat. Here are my own personal rules on Musical Diplomacy:1) Even if I hate the music you like, if you're passionate about it and you know your stuff, then you rock and I so totally respect you.
2) If you don't know your stuff but you're passionate about your music anyway, I respect you too for loving it with such a pure heart (or should I say 'ear').
3) People who think they know allaboutmusic, and who like to feel superior that they know allaboutmusic, and who like to rag on those who don't know allaboutmusic should all get laid. Cool it. It's just music, man.
4) I respect any artist with a great message and a certain measure of originality and skill, regardless of whether or not I actually like their music.
5) And if an artist is neither skillfull or original, I respect them if they're honest about it and if they have no pretensions.
6) The only posers are people who spend time thinking about who is a poser and who is not.
7) What persists to exists serves a purpose. So kung di mo type yung tugtog, you're obviously not the purpose.
8) And finally, of all the people who bash an artist, 90% of them actually have less talent than the artist they're bashing, and therefore have no idea what they're talking about.
So there. I probably won't stop with my emo-bashing sessions, and I don't think you'll be seeing me at the next Big Fish. But love a genre or hate a genre, I think all of it is wonderful anyway. And even if I make fun of you for being emo, I'm really just kidding. ;-) Really.projects
Time for some self-centered rambling. Last week was one of projects. They keep coming in and I am thrilled!
I've gotten a few writing offers tossed my way which is excellent because that means I can legitimately affix the word "writer" next to my name. So far, I've had an ongoing advice column in Pink Magazine, but am also currently writing a feature for a US-based Filipino magazine called "Philippines 2.0". I've also been offered a sort of column on the web but that's still shaping up as of now.
I shot and dubbed two more epsiodes of IslaMusik and was also able to view two of the finished episodes over at the office. What can I possibly say? I'm really proud! It's informative, jam-packed with interesting material, fun, and not boring at all. I still really hate watching myself on TV, but I thought it was a good, substantial show. May sinabi. Music lovers, watch out!
Yesterday I shot a TV commercial for a brand of ... er, food (I'm not allowed to disclose anything until the ad is actually out). Like all TVC shoots, it was positively exhausting! Call time was at 7 AM which was actually pretty late considering most shoots require you to be there are 5 or 6 in the morning. I was extremely tired but it was a good shoot, and I had fun because it was another opportunity to act in front of the camera. I love to act. I'm a hundred percent more comfortable acting on-cam than I am hosting. Since high school ended, I dont' get the chance to do alot of acting anymore. That's why I love doing commercials, even if it's just minor acting.
I have straight hair in the ad and am almost unrecognizable! Only my pingpong ball cheekbones give me away. But my hair is still curly in real life (of course!).
In a rare and daring act, I auditioned for an indie film. I doubt I'll get the part and it doesn't really matter if I do. What's important to me is that I went there and tried out, faced a bunch of people I barely knew and delivered what I had to give. I conquered a fear, and in the process met a new side of myself that I never would've discovered if I didn't go. I like to call it an "upgrade" to a higher version of me. That's what facing challenges is all about, upgrading your software. I feel really great, and alot less scared of many, many things.
This week is also busy but with more free time to spend time with my cousins from the US, my inaanak, and Nino! Yay!
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Tuesday, June 07, 2005
1 year old!
Happy birthday to my sweet, little niece and inaanak, ♥ Ananda ♥
You have been on this earth for exactly a year now, and it's been wonderful :-)licking my wounds
Taken from Curly Hairstyle... for Dummies!:
Curly hair style is the most common hair type!
About 60 percent of the world's population has varying degrees of curly hair.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is the beginning of another one of Ala's many curly hair entries. I have written countless self-righteous entries on living with curly hair in an archipelago that has waged a jihad against curls. They do so in worship of the godesses who apparate daily on our TV screens on those damned shampoo ads, sporting unnaturally straightened, unnaturally blackened 'dos. (is "apparate" an official word? If it isn't, then kudos to J.K. Rowling for the invention of such a pretty word.)
If different hair types had a written history, much like how countries and races and cultures have a written history, the history of curly hair would go something like this:Curly hair was once considered a symbol of beauty. Aristocratic French men in the Baroque era would wear towering wigs of curls to be in vogue, and as testaments to their social status.
Curls were also associated with angels, childhood innocence, and feminine grace.
Sadly, the golden age of the curl is gone, especially in some parts of the world like the Philippines. Since the advent of 90s grunge, and the accompanying sleek styles that dominated the look of the century, the Philippines has never moved on and carries an ongoing animosity towards curly hair (probably the result of severe trauma from the bad, curly 'dos of the 80s)
This animosity has let to outright curly-hair genocide. The entire nation is on an ongoing campaign to eliminate the curl, and breed a new race of people with bone-straight hair, their greatest weapon being shampoo commercials.
Ok, so I'm obviously no historian and I am guilty of exaggerating things... or making things up completely. Don't hate me. It's just that I, and my curly hair, experienced what I have come to refer to as CHD (Curly Hair Discrimination) again today.
CHD is quite rampant in the Philippines, and as a person who regularly has to pose for photographs, or subject myself to the mercy of different hairstylists every time I come out on tV, the CHD I experience is about ten times more amplified than the average curly-haired Filipino.
Here are some of the classic scenarios I have to go through repeatedly:
Scenario number 1:
Hair stylist: "Natural ba yung curls mo?" (Are your curls natural?)
Ala: "Oo." (Yes.)
Hair stylist: "Bakit di ka magpa-straighten?" (Why don't you straighten it?)
Ala: "Because I like it the way it is."
Hair stylist: "Ah... (a pregnant pause)... well, at least bagay naman sa iyo." (Ah... well at least it looks good on you)
*** Notice how curly hair is immediately treated like a problem that has to be fixed (i.e. straightened), as if straight is the only way to go in today's world. And what's up with that last line? "At least bagay naman sa iyo"? What he really means is: even if I was unfortunate enough to be born with curly hair, at least it looks okay. Right... that made me feel better.
Scenario number 2:
Ala receives a telephone call inviting her to show herself at certain talent center of a certain major broadcasting company.
Talent manager: (gives Ala the look-over) O ano? Gusto mo bang mag-showbiz? (So, you want to be in showbiz?)
Ala: Um... siguro huwag na muna, po.(Um... probably not yet.)
Talent manager: Mag showbiz ka na! (looks at Ala's curly hair)Kaso, baka di pwede iyan. Ipapa-straight natin iyan. (C'mon and join showbiz! But I don't think that (curly hair) is allowed. We'll have that straightened.)
*** I never thought of joining showbiz but if I have to conform to the same cookie cutter hair-do sported by every great, young, female star so I'll be famous, well... let's just say I got out of that office and decided to audition for MYX instead. Hehe.
Scenario number 3:
Ala attends a VTR to get a role in a TV commercial.
Caster: (Looks at Ala's curly hair) Is your hair fixed?
Ala: Yes it is.
Caster: Someone's coming over to blowdry it. We want it fixed/ neat.
Ala: But it is fixed and neat.
Caster: Well, we want to see you with another look.
Ala: Oh, ok.
Later on as Ala's hair is being ironed straight.
Hairstylist: Ok lang bang ganito na hindi ganung ka-straight yung hair niya? (Is it ok if I can't get her hair that straight?)
Caster: Oo, okay lang. Basta bagsak, hindi buhaghag. (Yeah that's okay. As long as it's not frazzled.)
*** Ouch. That hurt. I understand that they want to see me sport a different look but they didn't have to hurt my hair's feelings. Curly does not equal messy or buhaghag. My hair is very fixed, at all times. The reason why anyone would think it was messy is if you apply the same standards to it as straight hair. Girls with damaged, straightened hair, that's buhaghag!
So why am I being so anal about it??? It's just hair! Well, let me tell you why:
1) This is the hair I was born with, and the hair I'll have for the rest of my life. It doesn't fit "the standard" and in a world where models and artistas all have stick straight hair, my hair is an abomination. But I have learned to love and accept it, and so should you.
2) I am willing to change my hair temporarily (aka blow-dry it straight) should a photoshoot or a role require a sleeker look. But you don't have to act like my real hair texture is ugly, or unacceptable.
3) My hair is not "messy", or "rebellious", or "buhaghag", or "untameable". It is behaving exactly the way well-maintained curly hair should. Just because it gets frizzy, it doesn't mean it is dead or damaged. It is good, happy, healthy, curly hair. Be more sensitive in your use of adjectives.
4) Just because I was born with the less-popular hair texture, it doesn't mean I wish for straight hair. I don't. You don't have to suggest good straightening salons, like you're helping someone with a problem. My hair is not a problem. Stop brushing it, you're destroying the natural curl.
5) And if you really don't like curly hair, well, I'm sorry your taste is so ordinary. Unlike stick-straight hair that falls ordinarily, my hair cascades in waves down my shoulders. It makes me look younger, romantic (when I want it to), wild (when I want it to), relaxed, and free. I declare my naturally curly hair to beautiful...
And if you disagree, bug off. I didn't say anything about your hair.
As a closing note, hair straightening involves dousing the hair with noxious chemicals, burning it under intense heat, and forcing it to lie in an unnatural straight position with a comb. At the end of such a tortuous process, they dare to call the hair "relaxed"? (more like "frazzled")
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Saturday, June 04, 2005
lessons from the playground
Ananda has been the high light of my days for the past week. She's growing like a wild, jungle plant and just scatters her presence all over the house, squealing, shouting, babbling in her funny language, wailing when her diaper is changed, and giggling at everything.
She turns a year old in three days! Has it really been that long? Just yesterday the nurse wheeled her into Erica's hospital room in a rolling carriage, red-faced, sticky-eyed, and wrapped in a blanket. She was such a mysterious person then, but I was already excited to see what she would unfold into. Now she's like a prism scattering rainbows into our lives.
I've had two million special moments with my niece since she made her surprise arrival into her lives. I don't ever get tired of her, and every time I see her in the morning, I can't help but smile even though I've had too little sleep. Even if I'm upset or having a bad day, it all goes away, at least momentarily, when I hug her tiny little body. She smells like baby powder and batang pawisin. Yep.. she's growing fast, and has already made that magical transition from infant to toddler.
Just last week, she didn't really know how to walk beyond a few steps and didn't seem like she had the drive to learn how to walk. But when Aycs and I took her to Gymboree in Rockwell a few days ago, she was so awestruck when she saw all the other little girls her size walking and running around. For the first time, we saw Ananda feeling insecure. She looked so lost, shy, and confused, a far cry from the usual hyper and boisterous Ananda were all used to here at home. She couldn't keep up and I felt so sorry for the little thing. Sometimes she'd start crying and start crawling quickly toward her yaya.
An insecure 11 month old baby is a heart rending sight. Not only is 11 months old much too young for anyone to feel lacking in anything, but it also goes to show what an innate thing it is for human beings to want to belong. 11 months old, and already she was worried she didn't fit in with the other kids!
But this was an important life experience for her, so after a reassuring hug, we had to keep encouraging her to go back and try to play with the other kids. She's so used to being around older people, and being the darling and the star, that she didn't know how to keep up with kids her own age, who had more developed skills.
About 30 minutes into playtime, in a great and daring act of bravery, Ananda suddeny stood up on shakey knees and began to walk! She had a lost and worried expression on her face but we could see her eyebrows knitting in determination. This kid was bent on showing the others that she could be like them, by hook or by crook! Pretty soon, she was walking not just a few steps at a time, but a dozen steps at a time, before falling down. Talk about accelerated development! And every time she'd fall on her hands and knees, she'd courageously stand up again on wobbly knees and start walking, even though she was scared. What a brave, brave little girl!
That was 3 days ago. Today we brought her to Eastwood and she refused to be carried. She wanted to walk, and she managed to go all the way across the foodcourt near the cinemas without falling once. And she was laughing too! She'd get mad everytime we'd try to pick her up, and insisted on walking wherever she pleased.
Call it a lesson from an 11 month old baby (1 year old in 3 days): In the playground of life, people will always be bigger than you, faster than you, and better than you. You can cry, or you can learn how to walk and eventually run with the rest.
At what age does insecurity first seep into the tiny cracks of our consciousness? When do we start being scared? When do we stop believing in ourselves? Nobody knows but heck, if a little baby can show some grit even when she's scared sh*t, well, so can I!!!
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