More songs

My head is flooded with so many things I want to write about, but I thought of publishing this first. This one’s the sequel to my previous post about theme songs.

Fixing a Broken Heart (Indecent Obsession). Chemistry Lab, 3rd semester in college. While flaming up the test tube over the bunsen burner and playing it smart, a group mate laid a torn sheet of note paper with the lyrics of this song scribbled on it. My group just sang our experiment away. I passed laboratory, but had serious problems with my lecture class.

Leaving on a Jet Plane (Peter, Paul and Mary). One project we had in 6th grade music class was lip-synching cum artist(s) impersonation. I found myself glued to two of my classmates, as I didn't want to jeopardize my class marks should I go solo. I don't exactly know who I imitated, but it was definitely not Mary. Being a '70s trio, I asked Mama for her bell-bottom pants. That was the longest 10 minutes of my life.

My Heart Will Go On and Death of the Titanic (OST-Titanic). I remember playing this soundtrack while working inside the archives of an old film studio (my previous job). One splicing editor who kept on coming and going to pick up canisters from the vault couldn't contain his annoyance anymore, he finally said, "'Di pa ba lumulubog 'yan?! (has it sink yet?!)". The cassette player was in auto-reverse. :-)

Million Miles Away (Joey Albert). Grade school. This was a favorite among the popular girls in my batch in school. Somehow, there was this unwritten rule (I didn't know where it came from) that once a song's been sung by one, it becomes her property and no one else can claim it. Good thing fame and peer pressure didn't go up to my head at that age. It always feels good to sing the songs that I want to sing!

Let's Get Loud (Jennifer Lopez). Next song please...

Stripped (Depeche Mode). Aside from Somebody and Just Can't Get Enough, this was the third Depeche Mode song I've ever came across with in my 19 years on the face of the planet. I helped Manuel transcribe its lyrics and if you're doing it for a couple of hours, no matter how much you hate the song, it still could grow on you.

Love Changes Everything (Climie Fisher). Vincent and his '80s and '90s music obsessions. I recall being disappointed when he said that the file was too big to attach in his e-mail and couldn't send it to me. So when at last I had the chance, this was the first song I've put in my MP3 player. I just love this song.

Time is on Our Side and Step by Step (New Kids On The Block). Junior and senior high. Looking back, I could just laugh now at how cheesy I was back then. I had NKOTB posters on my bedroom wall, NKOTB organizer, complete set of NKOTB albums in cassettes, and a biographical book of NKOTB. In school I even proclaimed that I'm Joe (now, Joey) McIntyre's girlfriend! Creepy. I'm just so relieved that that NKOTB stage is over.

How Do I Live (Trisha Yearwood/Leann Rimes). 1997. Rizal Library, Ateneo de Manila. Just as I was so bored to death in cataloging those American historical materials (FYI: it was brain-draining), this song had the power to stop my clock for about 4 or 5 minutes.

Total Eclipse of the Heart (Bonnie Tyler). Music class in 2nd grade. My teacher probably thought that all 8-year-olds are potential divas, so she required each student to sing before her class in that dreaded platform. I prepared for this event for about a week. I belted out this song like my fate in 3rd grade depends on it.

Heal the World (Michael Jackson). I loathed our class president in senior high for making us rehearse this song like a broken record twice a day for a school-opening program. I had this huge balloon hovering in my head with a picture of planet earth full of band-aids and a caption that goes, "Hey, look! The world has recuperated. Whatever happened to Billy Jean??"

Iisa (Gary Granada). Charo made me swear I'm going to sing this song at her wedding. I told her I'm going to do it because I love her and that it's a Granada. I couldn't refuse her and so I did sing the song on her wedding day. Unlike my milestone wedding song, I didn't put a monkey wrench in the works this time around. I only suffered from suffocation by wearing that silver-grey silk dress.

Estoy Aqui (Shakira). The first Spanish song I ever attempted memorizing. I would sing this while bumming at the Brussels metro. Orlando said, "Oh, there goes Shakira!...after a terrible car accident."

How Could It Be? (Eddie Murphy). How could I forget this?!!! I hated my cousin for days (see related post).

Shiny Happy People (REM). Plus all other REM songs. What kept me nailed on my seat during my train ride to Amsterdam. Too nailed, even responding to the WC's (pronounced as 'wi-si', their version of the CR) call wasn't permissible.

As Still as a Photograph (Cacai Velasquez). Reminds me of my library sojourn around Manila for my undergrad thesis data gathering (thanks to electronic means, I don't have to do this all over again for my graduate research). I'd chance upon this song whenever I hop into jeepneys and memorized it in a jiffy.

I know for sure there are still more songs. But for the meantime, let me just allow other ideas to flow from my head.

Coffee is my cup of tea

I always look forward to long weekends. Besides the extra hours intended for sleep, times like this give leeway to bonding sessions with the entire household in the kitchen. My cousins are born with a pot and ladle, while I'm a skilled diner (at least at home). Although I'd love to spend quality time in the kitchen, it seems like it's not a mutual thing with the latter. The closer I inch my way to the stove, I somehow have this funny feeling that the stove is all set to burn the better of me.

If my memory serves me right, my mother never encouraged me to try a hand in cooking (sorry, Ma, I have to confess this). At home during my childhood and adolescent years, she would designate a myriad of chores to me and my sister, in and around the house, except there at that untouchable department called the kitchen. My father owns it. My mom probably thought it best to save her children from her husband's harsh food criticisms. And so, the closest activity we've ever had with the stove was bending over it with a scouring pad and cleanser gripped firmly by our hands. We were only our dad's clean-up girls.

This personal küche history explains why I'm braving cook-offs only past my quarter life. My five cents take is that I'm already earning a living and can at least afford a gallon of spilt milk, so it's okay to experiment a bit. My years of educational harnessing didn't come even this close to 1/4 my pinky finger to match anyone of those unschooled but brilliant cooking masters (at their own right). My cousin once bantered, "Ano'ng top ka na nga ulit sa board exam?!" (and again you took what place in the board exam?!) after she effortlessly twist-opened a jar of bagoong (shrimp paste) for me, as she noticed I was struggling on my wits' end with it and was about to thrust it off the window. But still, I refuse to reconcile with the idea that I'm a walking kitchen disaster. No way, I'll never be! It's not yet the end for me.

I began subscribing to online mailing lists of recipes. Until I got tired of archiving these onto my kitchenomics folder and then eventually stopped the weekly subscription, I think I've only tried and tested two recipes. And of these two (the other one I can't remember anymore), only one dish I was proud of perfecting: sweet-chili chicken wings. So what if it's just fried chicken wings smothered with sweet-chili catsup (you can grab from the supermarket) in low fire that even a 10-year old schoolgirl can make? At least I followed the cooking directions and got all ingredients (1kg chicken wings, 1 bottle of sweet-chili catsup and cooking oil) right. It's not big but it was a good start.

Last week, I had another 3-day weekend, thus, my 3-day lunch affairs with our kitchen.

For day one, I just scavenged some left-overs in the fridge (I woke up late and didn't have time to go marketing) and transformed them into a no-sweat brunch. I made garlic fried rice (lotsa lotsa garlic!), re-heated the fish and asked for my cousin's canned corned beef (sauteed in garlic and onions - I'm a sucker for these). My sister prepared mango-orange juice to go along with the dish. It was a satisfying treat! After brushing my teeth, I went back to bed. A full stomach would drag you to sleep in an instant.

On day two, I suggested that we cook pancit canton (egg noodles topped/mixed with sauteed veggies) and onion rings as side dish for lunch. I wasn't that confident making them all by myself, and so my cousin volunteered to coach me. While she busied herself with the onions, I stir-fried the veggies and when it's done, I boiled the noodles in with broth cubes. She was nearly impressed with my handiwork when I guiltily remarked, "'Di naman siguro tayo mamamatay kung naisama 'ko 'yung papel sa noodles, ano? Kasi naisama 'ko e (nang 'di sinasadya)." (We're not going to die if I mistakenly threw in the package-label with the noodles, right? Because I accidentally included it in there) She gave me her ever-famous blank stare and after a while, perfomed her damage control tricks. Thanks to her, we still had pancit for lunch that day.

Day three witnessed the "return of the comeback", a.k.a. recycling dishes. This time, I was looking forward more on merienda (afternoon snacks) than lunch. I've been craving for champorado (chocolate pudding) like it's been eons since I last had a bowl or two (it felt like it). More on this later.

But for lunch, I again made garlic fried rice plus minced onion rings of the previous day (we had a lot of those left-over). My other cousin cooked ground pork with carrots, potatoes and peas the night before, so that too made its reprise on the table. In addition to all "comebacks", I deep-fried (I don't exactly look like a frying pan, do I?) sliced eggplants coated with egg and bread crumbs; a viand I learned from the Abrigo home. Then again I heard yet another mockery, "Mmmm! Smells good! It's a good thing we're all single here and we don't have kids, or else they'd complain and say, 'mommy, we're hungry, it's been an hour...are you done yet?!'" I was so tempted to hoard all food and watch them suffer from starvation.

Merienda came and it was champorado time! My sister cooked cheese sticks to counter my pudding's sweetness, so it was perfect. Once more with the help of my cooking cousin, I was able to stir up that champorado with the right consistency. Although I followed every step correctly, the malagkit (I've no clue what's it in English) ruined my masterpiece! Anyhow, it's still put to good use because we didn't just have the pudding days later. We also had hot choco for breakfast.

Now for the subject line, of course I still had coffee twice a day.

Unleash the Choco Monster!

For the past days, my sweet tooth had been at work. I'd go for just about anything chocolate-coated, so long as these are edible (hold on! of course I mean food/drinks). My tastebuds' craving for confectioneries after dining surprises me, as if a sumptuous meal is not pleasurable enough.

As of late, Kitkat White currently tops my sweets list. Nestle-Goya milk bars, Knick Knacks and Ricoa Curly Tops made it to my chocolate hall-of-fame (love your own, syempre). In Belgium, Callebauts (especially, whites) were my staple food while on the go. They're always in my bag. And of course there was Cote d'Or as my "beer-match" (Yes, I've consumed one bar to kill the beer's aftertaste. It wasn't delectable, but it sure helped me gobble up that big glass). Cecemel milkchoco drink (in the Netherlands, it's Chocomel) washed out every solid intake I've had for the day.

But wait! There's more! (Home Shopping Network ad tagline)

There’s the mouth-watering chocolate pastry, too. Just recently, I had two boxes of Red Ribbon® choco-caramel rolls for two days in a row, as tokens from an officemate (who got that job-referral I passed on to him) and from a group of students whom I lectured/toured around the library (guilt-strip: as a matter of practice, we DON'T accept gifts after every lecture but they insisted; this was an exemption to the rule *wink wink*). While Mike (Vincent's brother) and I devoured the cakes, we couldn't stop raving the words "heavenly" and "luscious" in between mouthfuls.

Okay, enough of this already. I'm drooling!!!

A Song for Every Memory

Music, in a way, defines one's personality and individuality. For me, it's the perfect remedy to just about anything.

One time, a new-found friend invited me over to come to her birthday party. Since I didn't want to show up empty-handed, I went out to scout a gift for her. Trivia: I'm a lousy gift-giver. So to be on the safe side, my default gifts always have something to do with music and books. For this particular friend of mine, I decided to get her an audio CD. But of who?! I didn't know her music taste. Thanks to Friendster, I learned she prefers pop. Suits her.

[sidebar: There I go again! Sidetracked! Argh! I just had another change-topic attack.]

I thought about some songs that I've baptized as my very own banner themes for memorable events. Here's my list (first of two parts):


Set You Free (SIDE A). Was included in the very first SIDE A album I acquired from begging (my mom).

Friends Are There (Theme from Garfield and Friends). One Anthropology class (folk traditions) in graduate school. My oral report/term paper was about pulutan (i.e., pick-up food). To illustrate the idea that Filipinos love to experiment on food, I posted the pictures of Garfield and his friends up on the board on the day of my report. I recall how Vincent and I mastered the art of silent cackling by cupping our mouths so as not to annoy our seatmates in the library.

Voices that Care (various artists). There was an event during my freshman year in college wherein that cute guy I had a crush on, interpreted this song along with a group of upperclassmen. He did the rapping part...The following semester, we were classmates in Social Dance. I was so close to becoming his dancing partner. But there, just close :-(

Losing My Religion (REM). I don't remember how many times I put off Manuel from squeaking this song.

Love Moves in Mysterious Ways (Julia Fordham). Long before Nina (a local singer) sabotaged this song, I did the sabotaging first. A friend begged me to sing at her wedding, and this was my milestone wedding song. I didn't know how she got me to do it, but I just remember pigging out in the feast right after putting down the microphone. I screwed up the first two stanzas and then blended in with the well-wishers like nothing happened.

Sugar Rush (A*Teens). Vincent. He e-mailed the .mp3 file to me. I danced to it while doing my laundry in Erasmushome.

Pieces of Me (Ashley Simpson). I didn't like the singer, but I remember sprinting to the toilet for a go and then back again to my room in less than a minute, just so I can sing along with my clock radio. I made it just in time for the first chorus! Hahaha!!!

Everybody's Changing (Keane). Orlando and I used to sing this song together during our last days in Belgium. We replace "changing" with "schengen". Our visas were doomed to expire in a week's time by then. Hehehe.

Cold Summer Nights (Francis M.). I was blindfolded when I sang this, LITERALLY. I was a freshman applicant of a college-based org and I made them (the members) sing along with me. They said I was one of the two in my batch who passed the first screening. Half-way through the second week, I quit. A year later, I shifted to another college. And then to another. Now, I'm a librarian. Francis M. could've been instrumental to my professional growth without him knowing it.

Summer Sunshine and Breathless (The Corrs). EuroDisney. On board the train going back to the city center from Marne-la-Valle Chessey. I made sure nobody sat beside me because I was resolved that whoever that may be, s/he’d either transfer to the next coach or get off at the next stop anyway. Go figure.


More songs to come...

Umbrella with a purpose

Even though I was running a bit late for an appointment, I still decided to take a walk along one side of the academic oval (of the university) at a hurried pace. Despite the light rain and icky puddles, I figured that a little breeze walking wouldn't hurt at all. And besides, a jeepney ride would take me a while to get to my point of destination, not to mention I didn't have pennies for change to afford one. Walking perhaps was the best decision that I've ever made today (next to oversleeping).

Along the avenue a guy heading towards me from the opposite end, interrupted my brief leg exercise. He was looking for a "bar" which he claimed is located somewhere in the campus. Initially, I was so tempted let out a tiny jab of sarcasm and break to him the tragic news that he happens to be inside a university campus, and that the last time I checked, the word "bar" – to mean a social establishment – does not exactly appear in the institution of higher education's jargon (much to the disappointment of after-school party people; the prefix 'after' sometimes even dropped). But because of the I’m-lost-please-help look written all over his face, plus him soaked up in the rain to complete this melodramatic episode, I couldn't help but shift from being sarcastic to sympathetic. And since I'm also a librarian, I opted to make myself useful to him. Duty called, I heeded.

For a moment there I was like an investigator interrogating a prime suspect. Finally, I gathered where he needed to go (and I was still apprehensive whether or not there really is a bar in that building). I told him he could walk with me as I was also headed on the same route. He took the chance and the free umbrella. Suddenly, I've got instant company.

It turned out to be a not-so-awkward walking situation for the two of us. Michael (yes, I asked for his name after I offered mine) was cordial and I can carry a casual conversation with any new acquaintance, so we didn't have any lulls as we take refuge under my umbrella. From our trivial exchanges, I learned that he's majoring in Music Composition, which I found interesting. I guess he found me interesting too, because when I told him that I'm a Library and Information Science (LIS) degree-holder, a college librarian, and am still pursuing graduate studies in the same field, I think I saw him giving me that side-long glance, cross-checking my get-up (jeans, trainers and backpack – my Thursday attire) as against what I'm pronouncing myself to be. He later uttered, "Marami talagang kakaibang kurso sa eskwelahang ito. Sa Music nga, may Music Research! Ano kayang pag-aaralan dun??!" (There really are so many unique courses in this school. In (the College of) Music, they offer Music Research! What could they be studying there??!) I just gave him a wan smile.

We were engaged in talkies until we reached my end of the road. He had to continue on 'til he finds his "bar", alone and umbrella-less. I directed him to turn around the corner not too far from where I halted, count two buildings to his right, and there he'll hit his spot. He thanked me and then went on his way.

I was still late for my rendezvous.

A recovered granada

As I cramp in my seat (which was more of like a space that's just enough to hold my butt) inside a public taxi on my ride back home from the mall (I went there to pay my phone bills, not exactly to go malling for convenience) one wet Tuesday evening, I was for a moment entranced by a familiar tune being played by manong's (taxi driver) FM radio. It was a Gary Granada original, but revived by a local who's who alternative band.

Remaking vintage songs has been the trend in Philippine music for the longest time. Given that, I've grown very finicky (even critical) when it comes to renditions, especially those immortal songs whose artists are lauded for their creativity and ingenuity.

Kung Ika'y Wala (if you're gone) was the Granada song that that who's who band (I have yet to find out who they are or who he/she is) re-engineered, and I can say that for me, they've done justice to the song.

I found myself groping for its lyrics, until it finally dawned on me that I actually have Granada albums buried somewhere in my room. Not only have I recovered the materials, my passion for Granada's music was unearthed once more. His was a musical artistry that's truly Filipino -- soulful, poetic and warm.


KAPAG SINABI KO SA IYO 1994*
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Words & Music by GARY GRANADA


Kapag sinabi ko sa iyo na ika'y minamahal
(Whenever I tell you that I love you)

Sana'y maunawaan mo na ako'y isang mortal
(Please understand that I am mortal)

At di ko kayang abutin ang mga bituin at buwan
(I cannot reach out for the stars and the moon)

O di kaya ay sisirin perlas ng karagatan
(Or dive for the pearls of the seas)



Kapag sinabi ko sa iyo na ika'y iniibig
(Whenever I tell you that I love you)

Sana'y maunawaan mo na ako'y taga-daigdig
(Please understand that I am from this world)

Kagaya ng karamihan, karaniwang karanasan
(Just like the rest, an ordinary experience)

Daladala kahit saan, pang-araw-araw na pasan
(Carried everywhere, an everyday burden)


Ako'y hindi romantiko, sa iyo'y di ko matitiyak
(I am not a romantic, to you I cannot guaratee)

Na pag ako'y kapiling mo kailanma'y di ka iiyak
(That when you are with me, you will never cry)


Ang magandang hinaharap sikapin nating maabot
(A bright future, let's make it happen)

Ngunit kung di pa maganap, sana'y huwag mong ikalungkot
(But until then, I hope you'll not be saddened)


Kapag sinabi ko sa iyo na ika'y sinisinta
(Whenever I tell you that you are cherished)

Sana'y yakapin mo akong bukas ang iyong mga mata
(I wish that you'll embrace me with your eyes open)

Ang kayamanan kong dala ay pandama't kamalayan
(The riches I bear are emotions and wisdom)

Na natutunan sa iba na nabighani sa bayan
(That I have learned from those enthralled by the world)


Halina't ating pandayin isang malayang daigdig
(Let's journey to the unchained world)

Upang doon payabungin isang malayang pag-ibig
(And there let's nurture a love that's free)

Kapag sinabi ko sa iyo na ika'y sinusuyo
(Whenever I tell you that you are adored)

Sana'y ibigin mo ako, kasama ang aking mundo
(I wish that you'll love me, together with my world)



________
*My apologies for the English translation, should you find it poorly done. That's all I can come up with :-)

Yes, No, or Wait

Why can't it always be a yes? I wonder why.

At the back of my mind, I know there's no reason to wonder at all, actually. I'm well aware that yes, an approving nod does not necessarily mean that everything will go along just fine. That granting every wish does not always guarantee contentment and happiness. That not all gifts are beneficial (lesson: Bruce Almighty). That not every aid can help. A YES, in a way, could be a NO.

Rejection, on the other hand, does not always mean flat-out defeat. That being a cull equates to no futility. That being bereft of something (or someone) you so wishfully desire does not always produce a domino effect – of one rejection after another. It may chip off a bit of one's ego and dignity, but it doesn't make him less of a human being. The pain could be excruciating, but it will eventually go away, or even forgotten. After the rain, it's that hopeful rainbow's turn to exhibit its bright colors, so goes the melodramatic saying. A NO could probably be a YES.

To await for something (or someone) presents this uncertainty that is in fact, a test of faith. It could be stressful. It could either leave one dubious of what's to come, or being sure of what he hopes for as he hangs around in agitation. This state could also be a pruning time, a happenstance, an opportunity to reflect on one's state of heart. But waiting entails a huge amount of patience.

I sometimes prefer to wait than to be denied of something (or someone, I had to insert this for consistency in emphasis) point-blank. I would never decline a blessing, of course, especially when it's what I've been yearning for – I mean, who would? Unless inevitable. But I have learned a great deal in waiting. There's pain along the way but it's all worth my while.