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For the baby boomers, it is the Beatles.
For today's generation, it's Justin Bieber.
For most of us in my high school batch, it is the guy who played MVP in the basketball finals.
For me?
It is Westlife.
In 1999, I saw Westlife's cover of Seasons in the Sun and that particular moment started my fan-girling years. It was, in the most cliche I could get, love at first sight.
One thing I don't normally share is how I was most stricken with boybands at pre-teen years. Probably because boybands are like diskettes in an office talk. You can't really get out of the conversation without people commenting how old school it is.
Screw old school, here's my revelation:
I know, and memorize by heart, all boyband songs released in the country for years 1998-2001, I was in fourth grade then. I think it even spread until 2003 but I'm not so sure with that.
And though I am a self-confessed boyband fanatic, nothing rocked my little world like Westlife did. They're the only group where I would spend my hard-saved money for albums, posters and song hits (magazines).
I remember I would spend my daily after-school time, not playing chinese garter with the neighborhood kids, but in front of the TV because that's the time a certain station would play a string of the group's MTV's. I also think that I became particularly well at memorizing facts they give high school students because I had a personal training in this feat way back. I memorized all of the boys' full names, birth dates, height, weight, what else -- history of how the band became what they were then. Name it, I knew all of those like I knew the back of my hand.
Seriously, without them, I would be a different person. Because if not for this boyband, these things below would have a different story.
If not for Westlife, I --
Last September 29, after 10 years or so, one of my oldest dreams came true. I got to see them, hear them, sing with them LIVE.
Being a momentous night for me, I was prepared to shed tears of joy anytime during the night so it was a surprise that I got through the show without getting too emotional. Their last song, Uptown Girl is one of my favorites. Upon hearing the beats, I jumped up to my seat and my friends did the same. (And I knew those who were still comfortably seating in Upper Box B did too!) I can't remember the last time singing Uptown Girl with much fervor prior the concert, oh I bet it was years. But singing it at that particular moment, belting my heart and lungs out, together with Westlife and 10-11,000 Pinoy fans -- it was surreal.
And even though I wasn't crazily addicted as I was before, that night, I felt a surge of emotions in me and I knew literally, that first loves never die. And that this boyband still has that special place in my heart, albeit that part is old and a little forgotten thru the long years.
I didn't anticipate it was possible, but I left the concert a big fan of Westlife once more. I knew that I would be singing their classic songs, and perhaps the new ones too, days, months, even years after that night.
Screw old school.
Two things though:
I really wish they sang my favorite Westlife song, Swear It Again and,
I miss Bryan. :'(
.
.
For today's generation, it's Justin Bieber.
For most of us in my high school batch, it is the guy who played MVP in the basketball finals.
For me?
It is Westlife.
 |
| Westlife: My Childhood Loves |
In 1999, I saw Westlife's cover of Seasons in the Sun and that particular moment started my fan-girling years. It was, in the most cliche I could get, love at first sight.
One thing I don't normally share is how I was most stricken with boybands at pre-teen years. Probably because boybands are like diskettes in an office talk. You can't really get out of the conversation without people commenting how old school it is.
Screw old school, here's my revelation:
I know, and memorize by heart, all boyband songs released in the country for years 1998-2001, I was in fourth grade then. I think it even spread until 2003 but I'm not so sure with that.
And though I am a self-confessed boyband fanatic, nothing rocked my little world like Westlife did. They're the only group where I would spend my hard-saved money for albums, posters and song hits (magazines).
I remember I would spend my daily after-school time, not playing chinese garter with the neighborhood kids, but in front of the TV because that's the time a certain station would play a string of the group's MTV's. I also think that I became particularly well at memorizing facts they give high school students because I had a personal training in this feat way back. I memorized all of the boys' full names, birth dates, height, weight, what else -- history of how the band became what they were then. Name it, I knew all of those like I knew the back of my hand.
Seriously, without them, I would be a different person. Because if not for this boyband, these things below would have a different story.
If not for Westlife, I --
- would not have met two of my best friends. Cheers to over 10 years of friendship!
- would not be writing. There were times I feel like boring my friends when I talked nonchalantly of the group; when this thing happens, I resort to writing my thoughts down in a diary. And that's how I met my hobby love, writing when no one's there to listen.
- and I wouldn't be a dreamer, a believer and an optimist like I ended up to be. Being crazily addicted in my teens, I am just glad that Westlife sang of love, believing, hope and not anything negative. Being that young, I would have eaten up anything they have supported.
Last September 29, after 10 years or so, one of my oldest dreams came true. I got to see them, hear them, sing with them LIVE.
 |
 |
| I was here! - a decade old dream |
 |
| Setlist include (in order): When You're Looking Like That, World of our Own, What Makes A Man, Safe, Home, My Love, Coldplay's Viva La Vida, Rihanna's Only Girl, Black Eyed Peas' The Time, Lady Gaga's Bad Romance, Seasons in the Sun, You Raise Me Up, I'm Already There, Flying Without Wings, What About Now and Uptown Girl. |
Being a momentous night for me, I was prepared to shed tears of joy anytime during the night so it was a surprise that I got through the show without getting too emotional. Their last song, Uptown Girl is one of my favorites. Upon hearing the beats, I jumped up to my seat and my friends did the same. (And I knew those who were still comfortably seating in Upper Box B did too!) I can't remember the last time singing Uptown Girl with much fervor prior the concert, oh I bet it was years. But singing it at that particular moment, belting my heart and lungs out, together with Westlife and 10-11,000 Pinoy fans -- it was surreal.
And even though I wasn't crazily addicted as I was before, that night, I felt a surge of emotions in me and I knew literally, that first loves never die. And that this boyband still has that special place in my heart, albeit that part is old and a little forgotten thru the long years.
I didn't anticipate it was possible, but I left the concert a big fan of Westlife once more. I knew that I would be singing their classic songs, and perhaps the new ones too, days, months, even years after that night.
Screw old school.
Two things though:
I really wish they sang my favorite Westlife song, Swear It Again and,
I miss Bryan. :'(
.
.
 |
| "The point is you can't trust graduation goggles. They are just as misleading as beer goggles, bridesmaid goggles and that's-just-a-bulky-outdated-cellphone- in-his-front-pocket goggles." - Robin, The Exploding Meatball Sub, HIMYM |
It's one thing to be familiar to an odd feeling when someone bids goodbye, but having a name for it, that's another story.
And an easier one at that.
See, I've been all too familiar with that nostalgic feeling one gets by the end of something or ending a relationship with someone.
Think high school graduation, when all of a sudden everybody, and I mean everybody seem nice: the bully who taunted your huge pile of books that you look like a hunchback he says, and yes even the teacher who threatened you with a C and you freak out fearing you might not graduate.
The people, the things that made the journey miserable in the end can miraculously transform themselves to a nostalgic, longing, even close to happy memory.
Add on sepia tones in the tune of that Sarah Mclachlan song --
I will remember youuuuuuuuu
-- and there's your graduation goggles.
How often in the last day of school do we get to hear the "how I wish this will never end" thing?
Seriously.
In high school, it can even be sweet. We can all be too forgiving (and forgetful) of the past that we remember only the good things. But then later, on several parts of our lives comes the goggles, unwelcome-d and resentful.
- resigning from a crappy job
- breaking up with a cheater of a boyfriend
- leaving home
Don't get me wrong with the last one eh.
The thing is, whoever said "doubt means don't", perhaps hasn't heard of the goggles yet.
Because in the end, we can't really trust the goggles, no matter how good they feel, because sometimes goodbyes are necessary and the goggles, they're never really enough reason to stay, most of the time, they're the actual reasons to leave.
I stopped writing.
I know right, that was pretty much obvious. But I'm just saying, it was a conscious decision on my part. It wasn't just I-don't-feel-like-writing-today thing.
You see, I looouuurrrrvve writing. It was my first true love.
But unlike the analytical subject I love just the same, writing takes toll on me, every time.
Unlike Math where I feel good crunching numbers in post-papers, writing simply depresses me.
It's my most effective brand of depressant. Seriously, even beats my Grey's Anatomy love.
So I'm stopping. To do the other secondary things I love. Like preparing for a financial exam pre-Christmas and a 4-day vacation I'm so excited for. That reminds me, I need to start packing.
But I'll be back, as with all my (and they're many) writing ruts before I'll be so back. waitforit
I know right, that was pretty much obvious. But I'm just saying, it was a conscious decision on my part. It wasn't just I-don't-feel-like-writing-today thing.
You see, I looouuurrrrvve writing. It was my first true love.
But unlike the analytical subject I love just the same, writing takes toll on me, every time.
Unlike Math where I feel good crunching numbers in post-papers, writing simply depresses me.
It's my most effective brand of depressant. Seriously, even beats my Grey's Anatomy love.
So I'm stopping. To do the other secondary things I love. Like preparing for a financial exam pre-Christmas and a 4-day vacation I'm so excited for. That reminds me, I need to start packing.
But I'll be back, as with all my (and they're many) writing ruts before I'll be so back. waitforit
No one really thinks their life will turn out just kind of okay.
And when it comes to opening a new chapter in life, expectations grow massively that I get scared more than motivated. The worst part for me, is the night before everything will change. Late night, and I get uneasy, not being able to sleep, anticipating what the following day will bring. And I would wake up minutes before my clock alarms, waiting for the dawn, waiting for that familiar wake up call.
The time I dreamt the biggest in my life was the day I entered college. It got to me actually, making it in the premier university, able to wear jeans (and flip-flops), the freedom to cut class. That time I actually believed my life would start turning out the way I imagined it to be.
Thirty minutes before my first class, I spent my first day in college in front of the University Avenue, looking at the Oblation statue, the naked man in a fig leaf -- sacrificing one's self for his country. I thought of the sacrifices I made in the last seventeen years and figured out there weren't really much of it. Considering I'm entering the university with working overseas as a goal felt contrite and selfish on my part.
I stood there for half a minute more when it started to rain. I felt big drops of cold water on my face as I ran towards a jeepney stop for a Toki ride.
That was when I first saw him.
From about ten to fifteen feet away, with outstretched feet and arms rested on both sides, he looked quite tall -- and wide, probably thin for his height. And from afar, he looked like a crane. But of course, that was just me as I had familiarized myself with the crane bird physique the way I am familiar with my feet.
One day, weeks before our high school graduation, I made a hundred paper cranes. We were supposed to give out something uniquely ourselves to other people before we all bid farewell, and I can’t think of anything else but those cute paper cranes I can do for quarter of a minute.
In the end, I managed to make a hundred of them. It wasn’t necessary, but I didn’t want to offend anybody just in case they give me their thing and I don’t have mine in hand. Or it’s probably that I got so caught up in making these paper maches I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be needing as much.
So now I have at home a box of 94 of them, all bright colored, glossy like those in a cosmopolitan magazine. Sometimes, I would get them out and line them altogether in my room, or make stories out of them, or open my box as I stand in my bed and make them fly.
As I ran towards the shed, and towards the crane guy, I noticed that he was looking at me too. And when I reached the shade, I pretended to look the other way but I guess he already noticed that.
It's interesting when raining and people run for shelter, they kind of smile, don't you think?
He had a soft voice, that surprised me. I wondered if he really noticed that with the people around the campus as they scamper for the closest shelter, or it had just been me. Smiling at his direction, or probably at him, thinking about a crane.
Even if they're alone, like you. And he smiled sheepishly. Whattacutie.
I smiled back, and hoped my semi-soaked face won't sell my blushing.
What's your name? As I held out my hand.
Oh, a freshie huh. I didn't know why but there was something curious about me getting a handshake, and him saying exactly that.
I'm Laura. Laura Santos.
I'm Raf.
At the very least I got his name in time. This is me. I said, standing as a Toki jeep stopped by. I would have said my goodbye but when I looked at him again, he was staring at someplace else.
He probably didn't realize it that time but he was my first friend in my new life chapter.
Later on the day, I would strike a conversation like he did with a complete stranger, quite a couple of times actually, but I never got their names.
And on several occasions in my life, I would open a conversation to a complete stranger as well, like he did, exactly like he did, talking about the people smiling in the rain as they ran. But as far as my attempts are concerned, they remained as futile as my other tries on that first day in college.
The ways of flirting, or courtship had evolved rapidly through time, much like how Lady Gaga’s image changed in a year, or the latest fad in cell phone technology.
In fact, it started as a dance.
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