UP Fair 2008

When Luis suggested that we attend the Sandwich S Marks the Spot album launch at the UP Fair, I was more than raring to go. It's been a while since I've attended a rock gig, almost a year, in fact, since my corpie job kept me from staying up late, even on weekends. “It's going to be like Mordor,” he texted, “Dress accordingly.”

I would like to say that I donned mithril and had use of Sting, but that's not true. Instead, I found myself in jeans, my Khao San Road t-shirt, and Salomon sneakers. It's been a while since I've worn rubber shoes, having lived the past year in my Havianas because I was too lazy. I couldn't believe how much I missed my Salomons. Wearing comfortable, lace-up shoes freed my mind from worrying about my footwear. I also decided to travel light, stuffing everything into my jeans pocket instead of using a bag. The effect was liberating. I felt like I had nothing to worry about, that I could do anything.

My 0-Encumbrance essentials are:
1.Money (More than enough, so that I would not need to withdraw)
2.Keys
3.Phone (I can do most anything with my MotoMing)
4.Lip Balm (I brought my Khiels)
5.Oil Blotting Sheets (Unfortunately, I didn't have the powdered kind)

We had dinner at the Middle Eastern restaurant near the UP swimming pool, then made our way to the Sunken Garden, where the fair was being held. We could hear the concert from afar – there was Hilera and Pedicab, two bands that I like.

We bought tickets then were herded like sheep through male and female entrances, our tickets torn, our bodies lightly frisked, before being allowed to duck under an overturned soccer goal post which signaled the entrance to the fair proper.

What we saw surprised us. The UP fairs we were used to had a few people standing near the stage watching the show, with a couple hundred groups sitting on the grass while everyone else weaved through the different booths or went for the rides. This year, almost everyone was watching the show. In fact, the crowd around the stage was so thick that they reached way, way back, taking up (what looked like) half the Sunken Garden, almost touching the food booths.

We heard the Itchyworms play as we walked around, examining how the booths had changed over the years. Now, t-shirt and a henna tattoo/ body piercing booths dominated the landscape, when they only had about one or two before. Also, small but popular restaurants like Tomatokick and Cow King made their presence felt via booths. There were also an inordiante number of shawarma stands, which was surprising because I had thought that the shawarma craze had died in the 90's.

Luis got a text telling us to head backstage, so we ambled over to the side of one of the stages (there were three stages, also a first, with one of them dedicated to Sandwich). Either we look like rock stars or we look older than the college crowd or Luis has become a bigger celebrity than he already is because no one gave us any trouble while we went backstage. The guards let us through without question while keeping students at bay. When we found the person who had texted him, she informed us that we were on the guest list at the backstage entrance, which means that we paid Php85 x 2 for nothing!

It was my first time backstage at a UP fair. The atmosphere was electric. There was an open bar that served vodka-infused cocktails. Musicians and their friends hung out, with a constant stream of people coming in and out of the area.

Ace of Bagetsofonik, one of he earlier performers, described the scene best. He said, “I'm glad you guys are here because this,” he said, indicating the crowd beyond the stage, “has never happened before.” He went on to describe the three stages, the way the crowd had slowly trickled in during the afternoon until they had become the mob that we saw in front of the stages.

We stayed backstage, hanging out with Ace and Jovan, listening to Sugarfree, The Dawn, Chicosci, Urbandub, and Sandwich's one hour set, which included songs from their new album, as well as old favorites. They even played my favorite Sandwich song, “Butterfly Carnival,” with Marc Abaya, their original frontman, as guest. I have always wanted to hear the song performed live, and now I have. A tiny part of me wished that I was in the mosh pit while the song was being performed, but I was content to stand where I was and sing along.

I saw Ronnie, who had been drinking since 4pm and who made me drink one of those flaming cocktails that were being served, a yummy, guava and grenadine-infused shot of vodka lit up with a torch so that you had to drink the whole thing through a straw. It was, I think, the reason I was slightly tipsy the whole night after. So Ronnie, it's all your fault, not that I mind. :) Ran into other people too – Denise, Zach, Erwin, Quark, Nina... it was one big party and to someone (ie. me) who hadn't been to a rock gig in so long, it was as if I had been let lose from a prison, returned to a world I thought I would have to leave behind but now, thankfully, I had found again.

More Shameless Self Promotion

Two more publications my byline appears in this month:

Homestyle (Feb 2008)

Wrote the cover story, writer and avant garde designer Cecille Zamora's wonderful glass house. Also did a piece on light sculptress Nina Laurel.

Filipinas (Feb 2008)

Wrote a piece on Fil-Am singer and all around nice guy Jay-R.

Howie D is Single No More

Charles has been asking why I’ve been absent from the web lately. For all of you who have been wondering the same thing, this is why:

Howie Dorough just got married, and I’m still trying to collect myself.

It all started when I got this in the mail:

The original article can be found on SFGate.com

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Saturday, December 8, 2007 (AP) Backstreet Boy Howie D Weds in Florida (12-08) 18:00 PST Orlando, Fla. (AP) -- Backstreet Boy Howie Dorough is single no more.

He wed his longtime girlfriend Saturday in his hometown, the band's attorney confirmed. Fellow Backstreet Boys bandmates were in attendance as Dorough, 34, married Leigh Boniello at St. James Cathedral in a traditional Catholic ceremony, People and OK! magazine reported on their Web sites.

"The wedding took place as planned and all went well," attorney Jason L. Turner said in an e-mail to The Associated Press. Dorough, also known as Howie D, proposed to his girlfriend of six years last New Year's.

"She wasn't expecting it, and I was quite nervous — more nervous about proposing to her in front of 40 family and friends than about performing in front of 40,000 people onstage," Dorough told People earlier this year.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

So far, I’ve passed through anger to hurt to denial to almost throwing myself in front of passing traffic to, finally, acceptance.

I guess it’s all for the best. If he had asked me instead, I would have had to turn him down anyway.

At least k.d. lang is still single. She is, right? *puss n’ boots eyes*

The Vampire Social Club

My Chicosci article is out! Read it on pulse.ph . W00t!

3 AM

Nope, not a tribute to Matchbox 20. I really am up at 3 am on a work night. I don't care. I can;t sleep. I'm also working on my Chicosci artlicle. I'm extra pressured to make this really, really good because I'm trying to impress my editor, who I think is really hot. He'll like my writing so much he'll call to tell me so, then we'll get to chatting, then he'll ask me out to dinner. The we can go to the mall and watch a movie. Or hamsters. Either way, I'll be happy because I'll be with him.

This is suck a sappy entry. This is what happens when I'm awake at 3am on a work night.

Seriously, I don't usually have a hard time writing but this Chicosci piece is really tiring me out. Granted, it's one of the best interviews I've had (right up there with Chino Moreno [I hear Pulp got an e-mail from the Deftones' label saying that they liked the article] and Gary Barlow [I'm still pinching myself]), but for some reason, this one is stressing me out the most.

Maybe it's because I like the band (but then, I enjoyed the Deftones and I loved Take That, not to mention most of the other people I've interviewed). Maybe it's because if the article sucks, Chicosci knows what I look like and can hunt me down. Maybe it's because this is my first pulse.ph article. Maybe it's because my editor is so gosh darn cute (here we go again).

I'm tempted to just aubmit the interview as is becasue the guys were just so gosh darn funny. Not funny as in charming Gary Barlow funny, but funny in a witty, sarcastic, toungue-in-cheek way. For example:

Mong: Budgeting the video came sort of naturally for us, so yun yung first project apart from the mass production. And then started rolling from there because everybody noticed the video, everybody noticed the album --

Miggy: Our haircuts!

Mong: Our haircuts –

Miggy: Fashion sense, cuteness, cutie factor –

Mong: Androgyny. Or let’s just say it straight up. Our gayness.

Miggy: Our gayness. What’s up, bitch?

*rofl*

And they can be pretty passionate too, like when Mong was explaining their songwriting technique. Hearing him use "These tired lungs" as an example almost made me faint. Yes, the little lost goth in me is still alive. Which begs the question: why hasn't the band been embraced by the goths yet?

Am shleepy...

On the phone with Gary Barlow

I HAVE A PHONE INTERVIEW WITH GARY BARLOW TONIGHT! *takes out must Take That shirt, faints*

I'm going to be taking the cll at home, which is sweet. How often can you tell people that an international pop star called you at home? *smiles like a giddy high school girl*

My first question will be: What took you so long???!!!

Of Placebo and Simon Webbe

First, Placebo.

As you can tell by my icon and my numerous odes to the band, I’m a big Placebo fan. So you can imagine my delight when I got to hang out with the band.

Unfortunately, this didn’t really happen, except in my head. I had one of the best dreams ever last night. Essentially, it was a long, drawn out, extremely fun dream. Brian and I talked about philosophy (we may have stumbled on the meaning of life, but I’ve forgotten what it is -- besides, does he even do that in real life?), Stefan tried to persuade me to buy these weird sneakers decorated with lace and Velcro (we were at a shot, they were on sale -- he ended up persuading my aunt instead), and Steve and I, in a mini subplot (mini na, subplot pa!), helped bring Britney Spears, who had been turned into a cat, change back to human form, but not before she managed to talk to the ghost of her dead ex husband, who was a famous indie comic book writer/ illustrator. I told you it was a dream.

The Simon Webbe thing, though, was real.

I was supposed to interview Simon Webbe, you know, the hot black guy from the now defunct boy band Blue, for a magazine. He was supposed to call at 6am. I got everything ready, did my research, formulated questions, set my alarm ten minutes early so that I would be alert when I took the call.

He didn’t.

Now I know what it feels like to be stood up by famous musician. Strangely enough, it didn’t hurt. I guess I would have felt differently if it was Brian. Or Stef. Or Steve. So I went on with my day, arriving at the office early and managing to upload more stuff into the new site we’re constructing.

At 6pm, I get a call from an unknown number. The line was choppy. Through the static, I managed to hear the voice of a British guy ask if I was me, and I worked for a magazine. Now I write for many magazines, so I didn’t know which one he was referring to. It only it me after I heard a faint, staticky “Webbe” in one of his sentences.

He hadn’t forgotten me at all!

I have to admit though that the whole thing felt sort of like that Simpson’s episode where they were trying to housetrain their dog, Santa’s Little Helper, and you can see the family members from SLH’s point of view and they’re going “Blahblahblahblah Santa’s Little Helper blahblahblah.” It’s rather sad, especially since my point of comparison is an animal that spends most of its life with its tongue sticking out of its open mouth.

The guy on the other line was kind enough to let me compose myself and gather my equipment before putting Simon on. By “gathering my equipment,” I mean frantically searching my bag and desk for my tape recorder and pre-written questions (See children? It pays to prepare!). Thank goodness my phone isn’t 3G.

Simon was very nice and the interview went very well -- well, what I could hear of it anyway. I only hope that Simon didn’t think that the writer on the phone was a dolt who didn’t learn how to follow up questions in journalism school (In my defense, I never went to journalism school -- unless taking a journ class as a mandatory elective counts). Otherwise, the interview went well. He has a lovely voice and his answers (what I could hear of them anyway) were articulate. Thankfully, the conversation registered well on my tape recorder, so I won’t have a problem transcribing the conversation later.

There ends my story of Simon and Placebo (feat. Britney Spears). Back to regular programming. All rise!