THE HANGOVER CLUB --- Pilot

What started out as a joke...

Has now become an actual job.

So set those alarms and mark those calendars to catch the first episode of THE HANGOVER CLUB with myself and Roni on SariSari Sounds with guests Nino Avenido, Enrico Subido, and Inky de Dios as we talk about anything and everything BUT their music.

Though I think it was really just about sex, for the most part. And sex performance enhancers. If that's what you call em.

You'll have to listen to find out.

I was so faded.

So yeah, catch The Hangover Club with Roni and Michelle on FRIDAY, APRIL 15 – 8pm; Reruns: 11pm and 4am

Hopefully, in the next shows, we won't talk about sex so much.

But I doubt it. *shrugs*

Happy Horse

                                     with my favorite hipster Paco Zimmerman

I used to collect all of my happy horses and throw em in the front seat of my car (uhm, for those who don't know, the happy horse is the bottle of redhorse with a logo of a horse smiling and the print on the bottle is red instead of yellow and is supposedly stronger than your usual redhorse but that's a lie =). Then whenever I drive, they just sort of roll around and make all sorts of noise.

Good thing I never got pulled over while they were there.

AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LITTLE SISTER, VERONICA!!!! (who is about to kidnap me from work so we can do what kids who play hookie usually do ---- GO TO THE MALL!!! Yehey!)

                          Roni, Me, my cousin DOCTOR Sid, and Mr. Waffle @Fliptop

The Hours

Dearest,

I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.

I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.

V.

....

For those who've felt this way, one time or the other... and lived.






***I thought I could find a more romantic love letter for my husband, but instead I found this... and it ached to know that once, I could not admit that I never wanted to say or write those very same words.

COME AND GET YOUR LOVE

I would just like to dedicate today's entry to those who helped me during a semi-crisis ---- very kind, selfless strangers, not want of anything but to help a poor girl in need.

Thank you and love love love:

To Mr. Benedict Flores (and the guard guarding his house) for finding and returning the IDs that were stolen along with my wallet and purse last Saturday at B-Side. The contents of my wallet (minus money and inactive ATM card) were kept in a small, white plastic bag and thrown away. Mr. Flores lives in Tomas Morato, y'all. He even called my health card so he could get in touch with me. That's wild. I don't know a lot of people who would even take the time to call me anymore. So thank you to un-lazy people with crazy investigative skills. (And mad thanks also to that other person who also found and returned by stolen wallet and IDs last year.)

It's happened twice and both times, I've gotten my IDs back --- license, SSS, medical card, SM Advantage card (hell. yes.)... even my Stand Out salon loyalty card. =P The last thieving f*cker though threw away all my wallet pictures and put em in that plastic bag EXCEPT THE ONE WITH ME AND MY SISTERS WITH OUR SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. (Yeah, I bet he's totally jacking off to it, the f*cknut).

But I consider myself EXTREMELY LUCKY despite the circumstances.

And of course, love to the guys over at Petron Quezon Avenue for crossing the street and pushing my car to the gas station as I waited for our family driver to come over and help me. (Yesterday, a screw from the clutch of my car came right off as I was about to make a yoo-wee on Quezon Ave. Now I don't get why people honk at those with car trouble??? Like, can't they see the frikkin' hazard? Inconsiderate f*ckers stressing me out.)

So to those selfless souls, thank you.

I still believe in the kindness of strangers... and the beauty this world remains to offer. Even if it's a small act. I'm deeply grateful.

On that note, here's a throwback to sum up all this love: (Was watching The Postman yesterday on HBO ----- awesome movie, y'all. Just goes to show that there really is so much power in hand-written letters).


This version was done in the movie:





This version was the one that reminded me why it sounded so familiar:



Come and get your love, everybody. =)

MAHAL MO PA SYA

... at wala akong magagawa.

......

I still have the portable silver and purple CD/Tape/Radio player my dad bought me just before I had to leave for college. It was my main source of entertainment (my huge PC, Windows Media Player, and the VCDs followed much later).

Used to listen to a lot of "Sunday Slow Down" .... or any other station that played non-stop, heart-wrenching RnB ... the setlist that played past midnight ... the kind of music that made you want to put your pen down from all the notes you've been re-writing, take a break from studying for the next day's quiz, sip your nescafe frothe, light a cigarette, and ponder about how nice it would be to have a study partner you were madly in love with... and loved you back.

I did a lot of emoting back then.

A f*cking lot.

It was a favorite pastime.

......

Now SariSari Sounds has brought it back (only this time, IT'S ALL OPM GOODNESS I would've never known about and now I'm getting a long-overdue crash course and absolutely loving it)

SariSari Sounds. An OPM Movement.

And there aren't any breaks!!! (Save for the stingers.)

So today's song on loop is:



......

This calls for a Nescafe Frothe and a cigarette, y'all.

THE HANGOVER CLUB

Did you know you can induce a migraine if you fight back tears?

Well. Yeah.

I dunno how it does that. But it kinda feels like you're drowning... in your face. (Which begs the question: has anyone ever died from ever holding back their tears?)

I seriously would like to know this.

Anyhow,

Watching THIS made my head hurt: (at this point, you had better be in full audio and visual focus for the next 5minutes)



*deep sigh*


DID YOU JUST DROWN IN YOUR OWN SALTY RIVER OR HUWAAAAAATTTT????

Oh good God I love couples. I love in-love couples. I love love. It's so nice. And then you hear THAT song. F*ck man. ANLAKAS. Cheers, man. Cheers to f*cking THAT.

......

And of course, I wouldn't have come across this song if it weren't for SariSari Sounds and their awesome playlist. (Can't wait to do the first show on Friday. =)

Catch Veronica and myself in THE HANGOVER CLUB as we interview your favorite local bands... and leave inhibition (and maybe even a bit of poise) out the booth... for a full hour. Or longer. Depends how long it takes to sober up.

And watch out for this guy --------------------------------------->
DJ Switch on Cafe 808 at SariSari Sounds dot com. (What a hottie =)

Photo taken by (fellow DJ and official photographer)
Ms. Dianna Jeraldine Capco




Ok, I'm gonna go back to listening to Johnoy and see how long I can hold my breath underwater.

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY

My daughter takes an exasperatingly long time to chew and swallow her food. It is f*cking nuts.

In fact, it's so annoying, I can almost feel a bitch-slap coming on whenever she's starting to sigh and I've been sitting with her for almost an hour and her mouth is not moving and you start to lose your voice and your mind from all the bargaining that I would let her have the videogame once she's done and the futile threatening of kicking her out of the house to get a job if she doesn't want to eat the food we provide her. You seriously start coming up with the dumbest sh*t to say when you're faced with that kind of moral dilemma. Now you might think me a bad mother for admitting that but I am just being unabashedly honest about it. (Though no, I've never done anything of the sort save for the occasional disciplinary slaps on her hand and yes, I still sit with her anyway sometimes even on the floor looking like a crazy person imploring madly to a 3-year old.)

But yeah.

Parenthood is HARD. It is FUCKING HARD. No thankfully, not ALL the time. But it is hard. I mean, it's not like there was an elective on parenting you could take up in college... though I swear, now that I think about it, they should've included it when I was studying Sociology of the Family.

I digress.

And I'm dealing. My husband is dealing. I mean... she's our first. And I guess that's why first children have it the hardest... because they get stuck with the newbies. The overzealous. The young-uns. The gropers-slash-play it by ear-ers. First children get the part in the parents lives where the parents make all the mistakes first before they can learn from them and apply them onto the second, third, fourth...

But then that's what makes these kids so special too. Because when they achieve something, they're the first. And the first time parents see it, it's absolutely fucking awesome.

So last night, Pao and I took Psyche to the STOKED Inc. 10-year anniversary party to watch Pao and the rest of his bandmates perform. She partied and danced and stayed up with us til we got home, me drunk and Pao hungry. By that time, I had gone on autopilot ---- got Psyche to her room, changed her clothes (I threw a spaghetti strap house shirt on her and didn't even bother to include any pants), and put her to bed in just a shirt and her underwear... after which, I ate and then passed out in a matter of seconds.

This morning I woke up and noticed that the light in Psyche's room was on (we leave the doors open since her room is just 5ft. away from our bedroom and she likes to sleep alone). Now I don't encourage anyone at our house leaving the light on when any of us are going to bed, so I got up to check on Psyche only to find her a.) sleeping with the bright ass light on (the same light I always keep off) b.) sleeping opposite the side I placed her (head where feet was, feet where head was) and c.) sleeping with a completely new set of house clothes (her spaghetti strap dress and new panties).

At first I thought Pao had changed her after I fell asleep.
Then I figured Psyche had peed on her bed (but she hadn't).
Then I figured she had climbed on top of one of her toy boxes and switched the light on herself because she was scared.
Then I began to look for her old clothes and couldn't find them... at first.
Then as I stroked her head, I felt one side of her head was sticky.

I couldn't make out how all of this happened so I woke Pao up and asked if he had changed her.

He said no.

He then found her clothes in the hamper. They were wet.

We checked her bed. The side where her head was supposed to be was a bit damp but didn't smell of pee.

We then began to wake her up to ask her if she had peed on the bed. She shook her sleepy head. We didn't believe her at first.

Then with her eyes still closed, she mumbled:

"I made suka."


...........................

And that's when we pieced it together:

She had thrown up on her herself in the middle of the night, probably from too much partying. Got up (in the dark). Climbed the box. Turned on the light. Took off her clothes. Walked outside to the mezzanine connecting our rooms. Threw her clothes in the hamper. Went back to her room. Opened the TOP drawer of her orocan shelf of clothes. Took out a dress and a panty. Dressed herself. And slept on the foot of her bed.

When I asked her why she didn't just wake us up, she replied, "I wanted to get the alcohol because beebeela is dirty."

She thought her teddy bear had gotten vomit on it.

I was absolutely humbled and proud of her at the same time. What an amazing, amazing child, I thought. Though Pao was kinda trying to demystify my life-altering moment by saying this probably isn't the first time she's done this before. But how the hell would I know that, right, it has been a while since Psyche was without a yaya and in our sole care... and sometimes I do feel guilty that the circumstances are the way they are... and I find I'm not as good and as patient as I should be. As I'm expected to be. As I expected myself to be.

I'm afraid to fuck up so I pretend not to care. But I do. So much.

But I guess...

The joke's on me.

Because today I got a first taste of Psyche's true independence. And I am so proud... in some sick, twisted, indirectly direct way (I mean, my parenting isn't exactly your orthodox model parenting but whatevs right), I contributed and cultivated that kind of independence in her --- the same independence I cultivated within myself and was always so proud of having achieved at such a young age.

I'm not fucking up after all. *pats back* And I have an awesome partner to prove that. Because knowing my smart and successful and super all around good guy husband, if he thought I was such a fuck-up or that I wouldn't be able to contribute anything more to this world than just mere physical existence, I don't think he'd have wanted to marry me. I'm lucky he saw my potential... to become a BIG O. But that's for another lovey-dovey time.

..................


Of course Psyche just had to be difficult come lunch and I realize how happy I am to be going to work and leaving her at my mother-in-law's house.

Aaaaaah.... the joys and woes of being a parent.


HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!