Makati-isms #3: Na-meet ko si Anne Clutz at Nagmukha Akong Weirdo

Bago kayo magtaka–oo, may Makati-isms 1 and 2 pero ‘di ko pa pinapublish  😉

Okay. Real talk mga pards, ano.

Hindi ako yung tipong dali-daling naiistarstruck. Hindi talaga. Hindi naman sa hindi ako fan–haller grabe yung pumupunta ako asa taping ni Regina noon na kasama ay ibang fan din, o kaya yung time na sumugod ako sa MOA Arena na mag-isa para sa Silver repeat at tumayo kasama ang ibang fans na ‘di ko kilala, o kaya yung sumali sa pa-contest para ma-meet and greet si Anna Olson, na ang ending pala eh napaka high profile na meet and greet dahil andun yung ambassador ng Canada saka mga prominent personalities…

Pero ako lang mag-isa lahat yan. Pagdating sa pagfa-fangirl (well, local fangirling, iba pa yung international fangirling–mas malala yun) walang problema sakin ang maging composed pag kaharap na yung iniidolo ko. May rehearsed speech na sa utak, makikipag-kamay, pwedeng papicture pag may dalang camera (nitong nakakaraan syempre ‘di ba wala kasi wala naman akong smartphone na, ancient species ng cellphone ang gamit ko)…composed. Pigil na pigil ba kasi syempre dapat cool lang. Kahit nagkakandarapa na ako in my mind kasi nga HOLY SH SI REGINA HOLY SH SI ANNA HOLYSHIIIIIIII SI–

At least alam ko ganun ako ‘pag ganung sitwasyon, ayaw ko rin naman i-spook yung idol ko (unless si Meryl Streep yun ‘di ko talaga alam gagawin ko).

Eh kaninang hapon galing sa opisina, imbes na dumerecho sa terminal ng P2P buses– na omaygahd ang ganda na ng bus na pang 5PM huhuhu may tablet kada headrest!!!!– nagpasama muna ako sa officemate ko sa SM Makati sa Watson’s kasi bibili ako ng nose pack.

Tapos may kaguluhang ganap sa gitna ng floor ng upper ground floor ng SM. Sleek PH activation event ata. Tapos ayun na…

Dahil ombre ang buhok ni Ate Anne, kita ko agad na siya yung nasa loob ng booth ng Sleek.

HALA ‘DI AKO READY.

Tapos naisip ko baka by invitation lang yung event na yun so malamang ‘di ako makakalapit dun sa area. So ayun pumunta nalang kami sa Watson’s.

By the way, sa mga ‘di nakakakilala kay Ate Anne Clutz, isa siyang Pinay Youtube Content Creator na may beauty channel at daily Vlog. Recently ko lang nadiscover yung channel niya, mga bandang April or June siguro habang naghahanap ng makeup peg for graduation, at di ko magamit yung mga turo ni Nikkietutorials dahil hindi malamig dito satin at hulas yung makeup ko parati–kahit hindi summer. Kasi nga oil spill yung mukha ko pagdating ng hapon kahit na babad ako sa a/c sa office.

Sobrang nakuha ni Ate Anne yung puso ko bilang audience dahil wala siyang arte at all, super kalog, at super relatable ng mga vlogs at beauty reviews niya. No nonsense, super funny pa niya, ‘di takot tawanan ang sarili. Parang ate na never ako nagkaroon (kasi ako yung panganay). So very diligent ako sa panonood sa kanya these past few months, kasi ang saya nila mag-anak talaga saka hanga ako sa pagiging masigasig na nanay at babae niya. ^_^ also ang cute nila lahat, si ate Jeya, si baby Joo, si Papa Kitz. Ang kyot!

So at this point hindi ko talaga alam kung papaano ako maghehello sa kanya kasi ‘di ko naman talaga alam na makikita ko siya at all dahil yung totoo wala namang may alam ng schedule niya hahaha. Totoo naman mga pards ‘di ba?

Well, itong event na to naipost ata ni ate na andun na siya sa event pero ang daming trabaho kanina di naman ako nakapag online sa FB never ko nalaman na andun pala siya for Sleek.

So ang ginawa ko pumasok nalang ako sa Watson’s hoping na baka paglabas ko wala na sila para kunyare nag-chicken out ako kasi wala ako sa hulog mga pards walang prepared speech sa utak ko. ‘Di rehearsed yung “I always watch your videos because you’re so fun and easy going”, “Baby Joo is super cute!” etc. na lagi kong naiisip pag nanonood ako ng video niya. Wala. Nanlamig lang ako sa kaba at excitement ganyan.

So nakuha ko na yung nose pack tapos maghihiwalay na kami nung officemate ko habang palabas ng entry way ng department store nung dumaan papasok sa amin si Ate Anne saka si Ate Isha…

HALA ANDITO PA SILA OMG ANONG GAGAWIN KO???

Sabi ko nalang sa officemate ko: “siya yuuuuuuuuuuun” tapos natawa lang siya tapos sabi niya go na daw.

Eh ‘di go na nga.

Lumapit ako tapos nag hi at nagmukhang eng eng kasi kung susumahin mo parang ganito yung nangyari:

me: hello po ate Anne!

Anne: oh hello! *medyo bewildered ng onti bakit ako nilapitan nito sino to*

me: *runs around a stall and reemerges* waaaah sorry po sobrang starstruck lang po laseflaksdjf;asdjf;asdjf;asdjf;asf;djf;asjf

Ate Isha: oh girl huminga ka muna hahahaha

me: *proceeds to talk about something I don’t remember na*

Ate Anne: *still smiling* nakita mo yung post ko? 🙂

me: hindi nga po eh, parang every day halos po ako dumadaan dito tapos nung day na andito po kayo for an event sa Rustan’s di ko po kayo napuntahan.

Ate Anne: awww.

me: *feeling ko na -o awk-wardan na sila sakin by this point* uhm sige po thank you po

Ate Anne: okay nice meeting you!

me: *after a few minutes na nagmuni-muni sa P2P na bus* SHET DI NAMAN AKO NAKAPAGINTRODUCE NG PANGALAN KO MAN LANG

Ayun. Weird ko may running around pa akong nalalaman. Lumabas pagkafangirl ko dun. Sorry ate Anne ganun lang po talaga ako masyadong excited. Nastarstruck ako anlala.


 

Magiging semi-regular posting ang Makati-isms tungkol sa kung anu-ano na nae-encounter ko pag nasa Makati ako. Hindi naman entirely brain farts, pero kailangan ko na din magsimula ulit magsulat ng magsulat kahit Taglish yung way of writing, para mabanat ulit yung vocab at storytelling abilities ko. Side project ko siya, at yung outputs na lalabas dito pag nagustuhan o pag super polished, pwedeng i-transfer ko sa portfolio blog ko. ‘La lang baka magtaka ka na may ganyan. Carry on.

25

The very moment I woke up I already thought to blog about today. I call myself a writer but I haven’t really produced anything beyond writing for work and thesis. I haven’t touched my blog in a while and also migrated some writings to an online portfolio. The past few months, all I’ve been writing is for research (our thesis) and for work (and lay-outing said writings, new skill I’ve to develop. Hoo.) I thought it would be nice to document today.

Now that I’m writing, I can’t write anything about today.

Maybe because I didn’t go out to celebrate. I’m sort of broke at the moment– so no money to celebrate. The work I’ve been doing is giving me payment, but it’s just enough for me to get through until the next paycheck. So there’s that. Just a handful of friends remembered and some of my cousins, so there’s also that. Kinda makes you wonder how social media makes people remember birthdays– if people are dependent with social media and the internet in general for reminders, and if you turn that notification off to remind them it’s your birthday, they’d practically forget about it.

I don’t know, maybe I’m really old school. I do my very best to remember dates and birthdays and other things that need to be remembered ‘‘manually’’.

Not that I’m bummed that a few people remembered today. It’s more like I’m bummed because the people I expect to remember, well…didn’t.

What’s that saying about expectations, again?
____________________________________________

A Quarter of a Century

A few weeks ago, I told my long-time high school friend that I did a blog last year, talking to my future self and how I asked future me if I’m handling my life well now that I’m 25 years old. I told my friend that the circumstances now are different and somehow, I’m able to answer my past self’s questions– even if my situation now is not really what I imagined it would be one year ago.

Last year, I was blonde, I was regularly-employed. I was having a hard time deciding on whether I’d continue my studies or scrap the last part of my journey into getting that diploma. Last year, I was a roller coaster of emotions, and was trying to pick up little bits and pieces of my emotional and personal self. Last year, I’ve built and burned bridges. I’ve forged new friendships, and at the same time, I’ve refined and strengthened old ones. I learned a lot of new skills, of new perspectives, of unlearning old habits and routines.

I am handling my life sort of better now than last year. I’m in a worse position financial-wise only because I left my regular job, but still thankful because I still have resources. I have and am thankful for friends and family, and someone special. I am still alive, still breathing, and more importantly, I’m more conscious of my health, and how being aware of my health makes me more human. That any day could be my last. Learning never stops, and if I stop learning, that will be the death of me.

I’m terrified how fast a year has gone by, and how slow it seems to be. How long and how short a year is and how so many things have happened and how many people came in and out of my life. Mostly in, and I’m happy that they’re in my life now. That a year came and went and here I am now- I just quietly let the 25th year of my life pass by.

 

Hear, Here

It’s so easy to change your appearance
Cut your hair
Color your hair
Change your makeup
Color your nails
Lose weight
Gain weight
Use different-colored contact lenses

This generation of visual people rely on their eyesight to see instantaneous changes, to be stunned, be marveled. You want everyone to know you’ve changed? Alter something in your appearance. Leave that old shell of yours and make a new one. Overhaul. It’s not as drastic as a behavior change or maybe a change of address but it’s at least, instant.

You can change your shell, but it’s harder to change your expressions. How you squint at things, how you look when you’re having a deep and hearty belly laugh. How your forehead scrunches up when you analyze something, or how your body translates its reactions through your face. But even that, even that is visual.

You can change everything, but it’s even more difficult to change your voice. That’s genetic material hardwired in your body.

It’s harder to forget how you sound when you’re excited. When you’re upset, or moody. When you’re really happy, or when you laugh. When you’re irritated or plain angry. When you just got out of a successful meeting and you still have the remants of your ‘meeting’ voice. When you’re venting.

When you’re passionate with a topic or a person. When you’re in passion.

Changing how you sound is harder, but not impossible. It will take years. So does forgetting how one sounds like. I still remember how my grandmother sounded like and she’s been gone for 5 years now. I still know how my cousin sounds like even though she’s been living in the US for years already. The sound you carry and use everyday of your life gets marked on to the people you interact with. Even people you only met once or twice in your life, you still know you’ve “heard that from somewhere” and know that most of the time that you’re right.

How people sound has always been more of an impact to me than how they look or present themselves. Everyone sounds different to me, I pick up tones in their voice, colorful and vibrant notes when they feel something extreme. My other grandmother, who left us almost 2 years ago, I can still remember how much agony she was in when my grandfather was being pushed into his final resting. And that’s more than a decade ago.

How people sound is a bigger imprint of who they are to me rather than their appearance. Or how they carry themselves.

But I’ve forgotten how you sound already.

Onyx

I’ve read a thousand and one
Prose and Poems and Stories
Of how they look into hazel eyes
And fall in love just by staring at them

I keep on asking though

Have they tried to gaze and gaze
And not get swallowed up
Or be amazed,
Have they seen your onyx eyes?

Do they know what eternity looks like?
Or what forever, vast, and mysterious feels like?
Do they know how it feels to be grounded, electrified, but lifted up?
Have they seen your onyx eyes?

They’ve been singing and talking and praising of
Warm browns, cool blues, sparkling greens, impossible purples
And yet all I see making waves not ripples,
Are your onyx eyes.

People only say how afraid they are
In the darkness, they are all but safe
Yet all I want is to be enveloped
By your onyx eyes.

I’d jump and not think twice of drowning,
I’d fall into and not think of climbing,
I’d love you and not hold anything back from
You and your onyx eyes.

A Season of Pine(s)

There’s that feeling of rush in my veins and the heart decides to rise and make me flush. A joy I couldn’t put my finger on, except that it always points back to you.

You.

How does that work? What does that mean?

Nothing.

When you look into my eyes, what do you see? Do you see how desperate I am to hide what I’m feeling? Because my eyes usually says the things my mouth is keeping.

When you talk to me, do you feel how much I’m holding back? How much I hate holding back, but doing so anyways because you’re so dangerous for me, but oh, so good at the same time, that I feel like I’d rather drown in your light and never get back up, instead of clawing my way out for air.

You suffocate me, it was harder to breathe the very day we met and yet,

I want it.

The burn in my lungs is compensated by the fact that I’m dying little by little knowing there won’t be a smidge of hope left for me.

I’m dying.

Because I know that we have something good going on here. I’m dying because I’m scared out of my wits, that what I’m feeling might just be something out of too much happiness and you’re either not ready for that or you’re not interested at all.

I’m dying. And I wish I was kidding.

Everyday my heart beats faster and it melts away as fast too. Everyday that strong feeling of desire burns me so fast, it’s like gasoline on a haystack. A desire consuming the very thing that’s left of me after a sad year.

And you know what? I’d let you consume what’s left of me. Take it. I don’t mind.

Because you’ve made me something I’ll never be able to manage on my own – you’ve made me feel like I’m important. Like I’m someone. Like I matter. And that’s a feat to do.

Chained

You’ve been filling my head with a thousand and one voices
Of millions of understanding looks and would be memories of places.

Yours is the name I drown in alcohol
Funny how that cocktail drink
Brings up more happy memories
Rather than making it sink.

I don’t know why there’s still pieces
Of you scattered in my memory
When clearly both of our intentions
Is to completely forget each other.

But that’s asking for the impossible;
Unless I suffer some unfortunate
Accident that’ll rob me of memories old
And new.

Wouldn’t that be interesting.
But I’ll be the only one to forget,
While You on the other hand
Can continue your resent.

I think I’m always bound by your invisible chains.