A Reaction on my Trip to the Record Store

How do you know when a music artist is good?

It’s when you just started listening religiously to this band for about a month ago, and you got so hooked that you tried stealing their music off the internet. However, the musical orgasm you had while listening to it made you feel extremely guilty that this heavenly sensation was actually illegal, and you decide to buy original records.

Having said that let me tell you a story, morning glory.

When I was a kid, I knew that piracy is the demon that will kill the career of my favorite boyband Westlife, and so I had to save up to buy original records to support them. But as I got older (and I thought wiser), downloading via torrents became the better (and oftentimes only) option for me. A lot of people are doing it and no one gets punished anyway. Plus, they’re of the same quality as the original.

And then Oasis—oh boy, Oasis—came into my life and things changed. You know what they say about drugs and pot and cocaine and stuff like that? That’s Oasis. It feels good and you don’t mind spending for them because they keep you sane. It’s unbelievable. And 100% legal. Imagine, you can have eargasms in public and still be accepted by the society! What can be better?

Now here’s the catch: what makes Oasis similar to drugs is that it is almost impossible to obtain it legally, a sad truth that I have learned when I had a trip to the record shop last week to obtain my drug. The new releases rack was half-filled, and that half-filled was half-filled with “OPM” records—nothing but a fat lie. The songs are not original, the singers are not exactly Pinoy nor the most of the songs are, and this is not what I freakin’ call music. Knowing how to speak do not give you a license to sing but heck, things like this are what the Filipino music scene offers the audience nowadays. The other half of that half-filled rack were Koreans and Japanese artists.

Heading over to where the foreign (by “foreign”, I mean non-Asians) acts are gave me much dismay— Having been arranged alphabetically, seeing Miley Cyrus in between Maroon 5 and Nirvana made me cringe. I never imagined finding Dashboard Confessional and Coldplay as the same rack as Jay-Z and the overrated Bieber guy. Same. Rack. IN. THE. FREAKIN. SAME. RACK. Good heavens. What happened?! The last time I happily perused these aisles to make a purchase, Rock and Pop are two entirely different things with two different racks. Alternative is another thing. Hiphop is another. Now they are all in the same freakin’ rack, under the label Rock/Pop.

Are you kidding me? But at least I can see Oasis' Time Flies.

It is disheartening to admit that the last time I happily perused record bars to make a purchase was during the cassette tape era, almost ten years ago. In between then and now, this is what happened.

The fact that most of the artists of my era are virtually invisible on these shops today sadden me. Oasis, Dashboard Confessional, Incubus, and Goo Goo Dolls to name a few—the artists that ruled the glorious era of the 90’s! Yet when you look for them in record shops, you’re lucky enough if you find a copy of a box set. No Definitely Maybe or (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? I may be young during the 90’s, but I remember that music back then speak so much more than euphemisms for getting laid or bling blings or feeling like a plastic bag. That is exactly the reason why my sound trips were actually remembering the artists I used to flip channels on while waiting for the snail mail I sent to MTV’s Most Wanted to be read.

Fact of the matter is that great music died quite a while ago. [Now] Everybody’s got records ‘featuring’ somebody else: it’s either a sh*t rap about somebody’s struggle, or just… f*cking shit music set to some reggae backbeat sung in some trans-atlantic f*cking accent. And then they’ll throw some Cockney in just to keep it fucking ‘real.’ (Gallagher, 2012)

So where the heck am I going with this?

There are a lot of reasons why music ended up like what it is today. On the quality of today’s music, I don’t know if it really is degrading or I am just getting old to not appreciate the music being held by the racks of the same record shops I used to buy my Westlife cassettes from. But these two are objective truths I can attest to with regard to the obvious death of the record bars: First, the existence of iTunes reduced the production of physical CDs, which could mean that the music industry is not losing as much as I thought. However, a second, and more obvious reason for this is illegal downloading which we all know is illegal yet no one gets arrested. I am guilty of this, but like the polar bears in Antartica or the barren forests of the Amazon, I wasn’t aware of how bad it was until I saw it myself.

I am not here to suddenly act holier-than-thou, telling everyone who downloads illegally are criminals and we should instead buy original records. But when you really support an artist or a band, buying their records is the least you can do to show your appreciation, innit?

I shall end this sad story by saying that I have gone to at least five record shops and only found two copies of Oasis’ box set (that’s the best I can get), one of which I mentally reserved my next pay day for. But still, I am pleased to say that I have supported the wisest man in rock by purchasing his first album as a solo artist. Yes, I am referring to the better Oasis sibling, Noel Gallagher and his High Flying Birds. The fact that they have Noel Gallagher on their racks mean that there is still hope after all.

Word.

While we’re waiting for Mr Gallagher to do his thing, I shall check if my Visa card will be able to transact successfully with Amazon.

The Kings of my Heart ♥

Everyone knows how huge a Westlife fan I am. I hold the title of being the biggest Westlifer back in grade school, saving up every cent I can to buy another cassette tape (cassette!) of then 5-piece Irish lads that stole my heart since Fool Again. I consider Mark Michael Patrick Verdon Feehily as my first love, being the first man I wrote love notes for when I was in grade 4.

I missed two Westlife in Manila concerts already because of typical reasons: (1) I was too young to attend a concert alone; and (2) the money I’ll spend for the ticket is enough to feed me for a week. I was young and unable to produce money to buy concert tickets, so boo-hoo.

SOOOOOOO… When I finally got a job and enough money on my own to purchase tickets, I splurged. Like splurge, big time. I rewarded myself with concerts. And I have said in my personal blog before, I am willing to do anything for Westlife. I am so not gonna miss the next time they’d be here. I mean, if I have to sell a kidney or put my iPod on a pawnshop or go without eating for a week, I will.

Why? Because these boys are an integral part of my life. Their music was there when my mom went abroad, when my grandma died, when I get reprimanded at school, when I first had a real, tangible, crush (aside from Mark Feehily), even during my first real heartbreak. They’re my childhood heroes, and they still are–even after ten years.

I’ve spent half of my life with these boys, memorizing their bio (full names, birthdays, height, siblings… ask me!), tracking their love lives (and I’m happy how they ended up with their long-time girlfriends! Well, except for Mark, who is now happy with his boyfriend), watching out for new album releases, and, of course, growing up with their music.

Upon learning that Westlife’s gonna visit Manila again, I was stoked. Good thing I just got a job when it was announced, so I didn’t actually have to sell a kidney or my iPod to get a ticket. I saved up for it like hell. Even my manager knows about it and made sure he’ll credit my OT pay in time for my ticket reservation. I didn’t settle for a Gen Ad ticket or Upper Box or anything less that would require me binoculars to see my boys. I got a Lower Box Ticket. A LOWER BOX TICKET that cost me the amount of a month’s allowance back in college. This is just a fantasy five to ten years ago.

Hell yeah, Westlife.

We were able to see Westlife THIS. FREAKIN. CLOSE.

And I don’t care about how much I paid for the ticket. The first song in the setlist, When You’re Lookin’ Like That is already worth the price. Heck, just seeing my boys is already worth it. Now I understand why some people cry as they watch their favorite singers on concerts (like Hannah Montana and MJ fans do), because I did. I sure as hell did. Those were tears of joy, for finally seeing in person the lads that inspired me for the longest time and I sure as hell showed how much I love them with every scream, with every part of the lyrics that I sing along to, and sometimes, even with just sitting and realizing how good they still are and admiring at how they managed to stay when everyone else broke up. And not to mention they still look like how they did thirteen freakin’ years ago!

Sometimes during the concert I’ll just sit down and watch them perform, and cry. CRY. Heck, I stare at them and think: these are the boys that I’ve been wanting to see since the year 2000 and now they are performing in front of me. It was so surreal. My 10-year old self would have been so elated upon knowing that 10 years later, she’ll finally get to attend a Westlife concert.

And just like how the lyrics for Moments go, “If I die tonight, I’d go with no regrets”. With this? HECK! I’ve been caught in THE Nicky Byrne’s camera!:

http://www.twitvid.com/embed.php?guid=L2SO1&autoplay=0

I was there, 00:10-00:13, lower side. I’m wearing pink. Haha.

Man, I’m just so happy. I’m just so happy that I finally saw these boys in flesh and became a part of the crowd that overwhelmed them with the love they received because they deserve it. No one else can ever play my life’s soundtrack like Westlife does.

Mark, Nicky, Shane, Kian, and Brian— you’ll always be the boys I love. You know what, I even consider naming my future son after you guys. That’s how special you have become to me. Thank you for simply being there when no one else was. Thank you for staying strong when everyone else were breaking up. Thank you for your love for us that sustained your relationship with each other and the love for the music that you make. Thank you, lads.

And it’s like flying without wings, ’cause you’re my special thing…

Until next time, lads. I love you to bits. My kids will listen to your songs in the future. ♥

Where the skies are blue, I’ll see you once again…

Take Me Back to the Days When my Dreams are Worth Chasing

I had a dream that I was on my way to board a train then someone asked me where I am going. I answered, “Back to the days when all my dreams are worth chasing.”

And then I woke up, still having that line from my alter-universe self stuck in my head. After a what-the-heck moment (thinking how in the world will the LRT possibly do time travel), I wondered what it means. Was it a God-given movie tagline? A random set of words arranged by my subconscious to form a phrase? Or an implication of something I have been longing for but do not really admit?

Earlier I read a tweet from my friend Rhea saying that she needs inspiration for her to continue writing. I replied, telling her that I’ll be reading until the last chapter of her ongoing novel and will be one of the firsts to get a copy once it is published. I did not say this only to make her feel good–I am serious (check out her page and see for yourself how good she is at playing with words!) She replied, and I quote:

Awww.. Now you made me cry. For real. I’ll dedicate the book to you. I promise. =’) If it never gets published, I’ll give you an electronic copy with a letter. =’) Hehe. You’ll see a page that’s solely for you soon. Thanks for all the encouragements. I feel so blessed with you around. =)

Those last two sentences warmed my heart. I just encouraged someone. And someone feels blessed with me around. God, thank you for using me a lot to encourage people lately. I realized it feels good to be encouraged, but even better when you’re the one who pursued someone into taking one more step towards what he or she wants.

Take me back to the days when all my dreams are worth chasing… 

Like Rhea, I wanted to be a writer. I just don’t know how to start. It’s just that things do not always go as planned, or so I think, that eventually led me into a recruitment job instead. After that dream, I contemplated: When do dreams become unworthy of chasing?

They don’t. That’s what I have realized today from my friend Rhea and my alter-universe self. We stop pursuing dreams when we lose confidence in ourselves, but they will always be worthy of the effort to get there. And if I want to be in those days when all my dreams are worth chasing, I don’t have anywhere to go but right where I am right now.

The dreams I have are for me. I just stopped chasing them because I thought they are not worthy. They are.

And I am worthy of these dreams too.

What I have learned from my 40-day iPod abstinence

There is always that one thing that you would really want that you would be ready to give up something you cannot live without. At 6, maybe you’ve traded your best Barbie doll for a Polly Pocket; at 16, it may be leaving your hometown to enter your dream university; at 20, risking anything to get that dream job. This is what I learned after I gave up my iPod for 40 days for that one thing.

You might think that this would not be much of a sacrifice for a normal person, but in that case, I am far from normal. I value music more than I value texting. I get the need to throw up every time I travel without a headset. I can’t focus on work without music. Music is my pacifier and my iPod is my security blanket. It has even come to the point that I have to balance my internship, traveling back and forth to Bulacan, and a part-time job just so I can purchase an iPod.

But then again, there is that one thing that I would be more than willing to sacrifice that iPod for.

Setting the Rules
The best sacrifices are the ones that hurt. Like what King David said in 2 Samuel 24:24, I would not offer the Lord sacrifices that cost me nothing. On June 1, 2011, after being convicted by the words said by Aaron, I set rules upon myself that at first look seemed impossible to accomplish:

(1) Do not use the music function of the iPod.
(2) Not being grounded from using the video function of the iPod does not mean you can watch music videos for a music fix. You can’t.
(3) The iPod can only be used for notes and the applications installed in it.
(4) Your headset is only good for watching movies from your laptop. No listening to music from your laptop.
(5) No YouTube as alternative for a music fix.
(6) No Radio as alternative for a music fix.

Yes, it was hard. It was even harder than when I lost my first iPod because I had the radio and my PC as substitute back then. But this time I tried to cut off all possible connections between me and music.

The First Week
Getting the first week done wasn’t as hard as it seemed for me. I was still unemployed during the first week of the 40-day iPod abstinence, so I had all the time to do other things aside from sound tripping. I finished watching How I met Your Mother Seasons 2 and 3 and watched a lot of movies instead. I wrote a lot of letters and prayed that this newly-started challenge for myself will be successful.

Mid-Challenge
I have learned that what they say is true; you would never know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I work—work!—without music to calm me down when I feel agitated. I traveled the busy streets of Metro Manila and battled waiting hours during traffic jams without music to comfort me. Add to that the jeepney driver’s radio that doesn’t really help—they were always playing jeje songs that I would never learn to love. It was the first time I got a Last Song Syndrome from a radio station jingle. It was excruciating.

I have also realized the power of music that I tend to ignore before. Sometimes music loses its effect when it comes from my iPod because I can just skip it whenever I want to, but not when a replica of my playlist comes from the bus driver’s boom box. The feeling of joy upon realizing that a bus driver can listen to such cool songs, and the feeling of sadness upon hearing the intro of “I Miss You” made me cry (yes, I’m on a public vehicle). It was epic.

I have also realized one more thing: maybe the reason why our ears cannot be shut is for us to appreciate things even when our eyes are closed.

Final Stretch
There are a lot of things that you can appreciate more without a headset that interferes. Like the rooster that wakes me up in the morning, a joke, or the ding-dong of the elevator that signifies that I have already arrived at my destination. I have also realized that sometimes, silence is so much better than music. Silence can trigger a lot of emotions and realizations more than a song can. Silence can even make you cry—I did, a lot of times.

But it all arrives to one big realization, and here’s mine: I did the 40-day iPod abstinence because I know God is able to do things I can’t; and this is my way of telling God that I’m willing to sacrifice for a single move of His mighty hand. I know this is not much compared to what others do, but I sure felt the pain that came along with this.

Yes, because in this life, there is always that one thing—or person that is far more important than the music I’ve always loved.

Of the (what used to be) royal logo and other random thingummy

Hi, after the stress brought about by the academe, the sidekick is back. This time, I am writing a post that is not graded anymore so… YEAAAAAAAAAAH! *insert wild dancing here* Wow, it feels so good to write in a comm blog just because.

Anyway, the past months have been a tough machine for me. I have submitted applications to a lot of companies here in Metro Manila and attended several interviews. Heck, I tell you, being a graduate of the premier university in the Philippines still does not guarantee you a job right after graduation. So much for being idealistic and full of unbelievable angas brought about by that strong sense of UP pride. I hope to have learned over time to separate that productive UP pride from the boastful spirit that brings you nowhere.

Still, I have been blessed to land a job with the global leader of recruitment process (yeah!), Alexander Mann Solutions. It’s crazy how I got through with their long and grueling recruitment process and how I survived dealing with heavy British accent in my final interview. But with God’s grace, I am now with an international company and will work for an investment bank as the client.

Okay, the news about my job is just for a starter. I actually missed writing a comm blog. This nostalgia is triggered by a Twitter discussion with Sir Barry and Nadz about University of Santo Tomas’s change of their university seal and how the students hate it.

And this is how the conversation went.

In an article I have read in The Varsitarian, UST’s official publication, the council decided to include the university’s name to be identified more easily. What? Isn’t it that the seal is their identity already?

I checked out the Facebook page the Tomasinos have put up to express dislike for the new seal. Apparently, there are two Facebook pages—one in Filipino and one in English. Which is kinda weird though, hindi ba nagkakaintindihan sa iisang wika ang mga taga-USTe?

Anyway, the English No to UST’s new university seal managed to collect more support in terms of the people who ‘liked’ the page. People there posted various comments, from the funny and trivial to serious regality issues. Some complained that the new seal looked like a salbabida (floater), and personally, I laughed at the complaints about how the new logo fits as a Zagu cup’s cover and resembles warning devices or The Batman’s logo.

The Original University Seal as against the New One

The resemblance is creepy.

Yes, UST had raised (super)heroes, but...

And this! The resemblance is uncanny!

It’s obvious that I don’t have a say about this because I am not from UST and I don’t have the thinking that they have for their university as I do about mine. But if I shall put myself in the shoes of a Tomasino, I also could have been one of those that expressed dislike for the new seal. The university has been around for 400 years, they have had the old logo for the longest time, and they have built their University’s branding around that logo. One look at that logo and an outsider would already think that it’s UST, the “Royal and Pontifical Catholic University of the Philippines” located along España with old and creepy (but well-restored) buildings and with a cheering team that will never be as kick-ass as the UP Pep Squad. I could even go as far as to associate that logo with my best friend and Jose Rizal.

Truth is that the logo didn’t go through much of an overhaul after all. The new logo still has the shield and the Dominican cross with the sun of Saint Thomas Aquinas, the patron of Catholic schools (thanks, Wikipedia). But what is the reason for putting unnecessary extras like the black-and-yellow circle and the weird (for lack of better term) font for the university’s name? It’s just like putting sparkles and ribbons around the Swoosh when in fact it isn’t needed and not fit for the identity that Nike established. Or putting it into my perspective, it’s like putting a shirt on the oblation which defies its meaning in the first place.

Just like what Sir Barry, Nadz, and I have discussed on Twitter, UST should have asked for feedback from the community before making the new seal official. It isn’t just a logo; this decision will change their university’s branding for good. In a community as big as a university, decisions that entail permanent changes should be thought over and over, and the voice of the community should be heard and taken into consideration. Doing this will make the Thomasians feel that they are actually part of their university’s decision-making process. And what better way to let these students put what they have learned into practice than inside the university as well?

Well, I hope that the No to UST’s new University Seal fan page shouts loud enough to be heard by the university’s administration. Like we’ve always said, New Social Media is so powerful; you just don’t know what it may do next.

Honor and Excellence

This post is long overdue, but I’ll post it anyway. The University of the Philippines and I have already made it official on April 15. I am now holding an undergraduate degree in Organizational Communication, and man, I couldn’t be any prouder of myself as I write this now.

 

UP and I have been through a lot of ups and downs; as in literal, flying-on-a-rollercoaster-with-hands-waving kind of ups, what with those unos that I’ve earned during my stay, and face-on-the-floor-making-laslas-of-myself kind of downs that I faced early on with tough subjects with even tougher professors. I remember passing my freshman year with flying colors and being full of unbelievable angas. Those were the days when I thought that the floodgates of Taft Avenue, the GE (minor) subjects, traveling 45 kilometers, choosing what to wear, and the cat poop around CAS were the hardest things that studying in UP has to offer. Those were the times when I thought that I was invincible and I had all the bragging rights; when I thought that I am part of the smarter bunch—just because I am in UP and not in others.

Yes, being in UP already gave my mind a lot of room to explore. In UP I learned about things that I never thought I could, and that only came with time. UP did not only teach me about communication theories but also about working with tough group mates. I did not only learn about management styles, but also grace under pressure. Extra Joss can cause hyperacidity and Cobra Smart can still make you fall asleep. The most conducive place to study is not necessarily a well-lit room or a chair with steady back support; it can be a 24-square meter condominium unit filled with cigarette smoke and looks like it’s a place where MTV Skins was shot, but cramped with the most caring and intelligent bunch of people called friends. Watching concerts and listening to music is as important as intellectual masturbation. Diversity is inevitable—embrace it or die. Not all friends are here to stay. Sun Tzu is the man. You can’t be kind all the time, much as you want to. A plate of liempo and a friend that cries with you is priceless during a moment of heartbreak. Live a modular life. Take things one step at a time. University myths are only true if you’ll let them be. Cry if you need to. Annoying people will always be there to do their job, ignore them and be awesome. God has ways of turning dark moments into a pathway to a miracle. Plastic cover can substitute for whiteboard. It’s cheaper to have papers printed at Sparklink. Patience is the key to everything—from the long and tedious process of enrolment to getting a thesis done.

And a lot more that I don’t even know how they’ll fit here in this post.

I have learned that what makes me different from those in other universities is not just the angas that comes with the university name but how I actually let the university mold me into its values and morals. I have learned that ten years (or so) from now these grades I’ve earned wouldn’t matter. Not even the university I graduated from. What would are the things that UP taught me that stayed. It’s not necessarily about those countless of names I have memorized (or failed to memorize), but the wisdom that the university imparted. Though it would help to always quote Stephen Covey, Virgilio Enriquez or David Berlo while working (to avoid plagiarism), what matters now is how I apply what they say and how it makes me a better citizen. Or employee. Or manager. Supervisor. CEO. Lawyer. Writer. President.

Yes, like everyone else, I am an idealistic little thing filled with hopes of love, life, and everything in between. But UP taught me that I can be so much more than I thought that I could be four years ago. I never thought I could be this headstrong about something that I should get done. That I can stand up for what I think is best. That I can manage things on my own, that I can rid of evil and get it on with what’s good, and that the sweetest victory is that when you have proven others (sometimes even yourself) wrong.

UP taught me that great—as in really great—things come in unexpected packages—people wearing shorts and flip-flops to school can graduate cum laude, ordinary-looking professors are filled with knowledge that they are ready to share to students, pretty seatmates lead rallies, dilapidated classrooms can share a thousand victorious moments if only their walls could talk, or incomplete laboratories with non-functioning air-conditioners house the best future doctors in the country that are made more resourceful (yet their resourcefulness does not justify the lack of budget given to the State U). That is what UP is all about. People do not check out the brand of your clothing once you enter its premises nor would they smell you to know whether you have taken a bath or not (I haven’t a lot of times before hehehe); instead it checks out what you’ve got to offer in the pool of learning that everyone else dives in. After four (or more) years, it’s up to your abilities how much you’ve drank on your own that you are ready to share to the world.

This is not a post that says goodbye to the University of the Philippines, for I will never do so. But this is a little part of my effort to thank the university for all that it has done to me. A lot of people say that I must be intelligent to graduate from UP. Little do they know that intelligence can only play too much for survival in the university. One needs courage to move on even after crazy exams and failed subjects, patience in working with and for anything, and determination to finish the race. God had blessed me with all three that is why I can write this now, and UP honed what God had blessed me with.

I will always be an iskolar ng bayan. Be it supporting our lousy (I’m sorry) men’s basketball team and our kick-ass, all-time champion pep squad in UAAP to living to UP’s standards of excellence, I will always be an iskolar. No other university or company will ever change that.

I will never bid UP goodbye. UP will stay with me. UP is in me. Honor. Excellence.

Malayong lupain amin mang marating

Di rin magbabago ang damdamin…

Humayo’t itanghal

Giting at tapang

Mabuhay ang pag-asa ng bayan!

You have potential, but nevermind.

I have had a crush on this guy since he became my classmate in a General Education subject. He’s the typical tall-mestizo-handsome guy with glasses that usually catches my attention. Being the curious creature that I am, and applying what I have learned from watching spy shows like Chuck, I decided to do some research. I found his Facebook account, learned that he graduated from an exclusive high school (which made me doubt; people from exclusive high schools that I know are either gays or cheaters), and was a transferee from another “Big Four” university. Then I got more interested.

I typed the crush’s name on Google and I came up with 2 results: (1) a class list that includes his full name (works to my advantage if I want to find out our compatibility through F.L.A.M.E.S. haha) and… wait for it–

(2) a hate-filled blog post by a girl after he broke her heart. Also includes his full name, middle name even.

I was shocked, but instead of thinking more about how he could have broken her heart, the first thing that came to my mind was OC152. The internet can do as much as to destroy your reputation.

With just one click, the cute GE classmate lost his appeal to me.