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I have this semi-bad habit of saying yes to every social invitation thrown my way. How’d you like to host an inuman this Friday for people you haven’t seen nor spoken to in five years, some of which made fun of the way you spoke to them in English? Sure! A weekend in Baguio with two couples, leaving you with nothing to do but write, smoke, and listen to melancholy music all by yourself when they go off and have sexy time, which will probably make you even more depressed than you would have been if you stayed in town? Yeah, why not? How about an inauguration for an organization whose name you didn’t really catch, but Loren Legarda will be present so it must be important? Okies, I’ll be there!

That last invitation came from Mike, and I said yes even though I only knew three things about the said event: it shall be held in the Manila Peninsula Hotel, Senator Loren Legarda will be there, and the attire is “smart casual”. Whatever the hell “smart casual” is supposed to be.

It turns out that the event was this year’s first meeting of the Philippine Internet Commerce Society (PICS07), and Mike was to be inducted into the Board of Directors as the Vice President (Online). It was also, I realized, the first real businesslike social event I’ve ever attended and I thanked whatever god is out there for a) putting me in a nice, sociable mood this evening, b) giving me enough energy to dress up well for the event, c) making me smart enough to bring calling cards in my wallet. I met a lot of important people tonight: Franklin Naval, software QA engineer for Google; Hans of Syndeo Media, who owes me money; and this other guy whose name I don’t remember because he didn’t have his card on him, but I pimped my writing services to him so I hope he gives me a call. I need monies.

Senator Loren Legarda giving her speech

The most Important person that I met tonight, however, was Senator Loren Legarda herself. She was the evening’s guest speaker and she gave a rather engaging talk about the growing importance of e-commerce in the modern world, with emphasis on the need to make online business opportunities more available to Filipinos all over the country. I was rather content to just sit there and listen, and then kind of watch as the Senator left the room with her aides in tow. But nooo. Mike had to drag me outside and introduce me to her the First Filipino Blogger. A “title” which I find rather awkward because I don’t think it’s that much of a big deal. Being the first blogger has little or nothing to do with skill or talent; it’s entirely a matter of luck. I was just lucky that I had access to the Internet at home in 1996. I was just lucky that I came up with the brilliant idea to make Dear Diary something public. I didn’t even start the whole blogging movement in the Philippines, nor did I even try to bring bloggers together like Abe does. I was just…the first.

Loren meets Lauren in all her bloated period glory

Those were the thoughts that were racing through my mind as I stood trembling in the presence of Loren Legarda. Hence, the WTF-am-I-doing-here expression on my face. I hate that I act like a bumbling teenager around VIPs like senators and parents! All my youthful bravado and sass just vanishes into thin air when I’m being introduced to people I need to impress. I fail at being a Grown-Up.

I became a member of PICS shortly after because there’s a wealth of opportunities for money-making online and it’s a shame that the people who really need the extra income aren’t even aware of these opportunities. I’ve never joined any “socially-oriented” organizations because I hate the idea of working my ass off so other people can get free stuff. Sorry, but your gratitude isn’t going to buy me the shoes I really want. Anyway, I think being a part of PICS is the closest thing I’ll ever get to giving something back to society while serving my interests at the same time. I mean, it’s not just other people who will benefit from the development of e-commerce in the Philippines. I’ll be profiting from it too. Everybody wins!

Let it never be said that Romance is dead

The best part of the evening? Getting roses from the Invisible Boyfriend. There were flowers, flowers everywhere! As impermanent and fleeting as our superficial Internet love. Okay, I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I sleep now.

Technorati Tags: PICS07

Apparently, PMS also makes me a social retard. I experienced a brief flash of social claustrophobia not unlike the one I felt during the Blog Parteeh early this year. The first Taste Asia gathering was small, intimate, and had a chocolate fountain, so I expected this one to turn out the same. But nooo. There were so many people in such a small space, and nobody I could really cling to because it seemed like everyone I knew was hopping from one social circle to another. Suddenly, reading about the rise and fall of civilizations seemed like a more enjoyable way to spend the evening than going through the whole social dance of meeting new people.

Whatta ho

After spending the first half hour smoking and trying to look like I always spend social events being a wallflower by choice, I grew sick of feeling like a total loser. So I started randomly approaching people and asking for their signatures for the human bingo thing. It took a lot of effort, but soon I was getting into the swing of things and smiling and talking like I normally would. Wearing my Wordpress shirt definitely made it easier for other people to start conversations with me. But the social retardation was still there and I couldn’t come up with anything else to say after explaining that my cooler-than-me mom bought me the shirt from the Wordpress shop.

I didn’t drink anything ma, I swear!

It seems as though like-minded people attract each other because soon I was hanging out with passive socializers AJ and Rocky. Nicest people on earth, didn’t pretend to not know me when I drank my beer too quickly, talked a little too loudly, and semi-danced while standing at the buffet line. I don’t know if it was the beer or the company that put me at ease but in any case, I was back to my normal sociable self. Talking to other people took a lot less effort and I was actually having fun. I even offered to beat up the chick that stood Jayvee up, totally free of charge, but I think he believes in a non-violent form of staying away from failed dates. Oh wells.

Why are my parents cooler than me?

I was hoping that my dad would win the trip to Malaysia because if he wins, then I win too! I’m sure my parents would rather have a nice vacation without the kids bugging them to buy me this and buy me that. But I have a feeling that they want to take me and Marielle along because I’ll probably stay out all night if they’re not around, and my younger sister would hate to be stuck at home babysitting me. In any case, my dad won the DVD player which is all good. That only means the parents will be buying a nice HDTV to go along with it. And due to the lack of space, they’ll have no choice but to put the DVD player and the HDTV in my room. I’ll have to go through the trouble of rearranging the furniture and all that but hey, I’ll gladly take one for the family.

Beer face + red shirt = I’m melting into the background!

All in all, it was an awesome evening of beer drinking, hanging out and talking to awesome bloggers, and Cliquebooth camwhoring. Never mind that I spent almost four hours standing up because all the seats were occupied. (Which made me wonder — how many of those in attendance were bloggers and how many were guests of bloggers?) My parents may be cool but unfortunately, they’re not cool enough to let me stay out late on a school work night. Which makes me even more uncool. My mom practically had to drag me away, and during the walk to the parking lot we were both bitching like teenagers because our feet were killing us and the parking lot was so damn far. The radio played hiphop music during the drive home. It was very strange.

Lesson learned from the evening: beer cures all social anxieties if you approach people and talk too much, they don’t really have much of a choice but to stand there and listen to you, making you look like you have lots and lots of friends and therefore, uber-popular and cool.

Where art thou, oh Blogger Crush?

The only disappointment of the evening was that I didn’t get to talk to my Blogger Crush. Tonight was now or never because I don’t know if we’ll ever get a chance to be in the same social event again. I did say hi to him once and smiled like an idiot every time he looked at my direction, but I just couldn’t bring myself to approach him and start a conversation. AJ and Rocky even helped me think of several pick-up lines I could potentially use:

“Hi.” *holds out the human bingo paper* “Would you like to…sign me?”
“Hey. My dad just won a DVD player. Do you wanna come over and…watch DVDs?”
“Hey you. Wanna link-ex? Or would you like to exchange…something else?”

Unfortunately, my hohobagging instincts never kick in during crucial moments like this. No amount of beer could give me the liquid courage to say anything to him other than the initial “Hey!” I totally fail at life.

So this is the part where I say hi to everyone who acknowledged my existence last night so I can look liek, REALLY POPULER. Except I lost the paper where I had everyone’s signatures, so the new people I met aren’t listed here. I know, I suck.

Ade
Adam
Aileen
AJ
Anton
Benj
Chris
Gail
Jayvee
Juned
Karlo
Marc
Mike Abundo
Mike Villar
Rico
Riz
Rocky
Sasha
Shari
Sharms
Sorsi

It’s that time of the month again, and I don’t mean my period. Depression, as I experience it, works like karma. For a month or two I’m happy, calm, stable, fun, and confident that I can take on all the curveballs life throws at me. Then the depression gets triggered by a minor disappointment, or something as arbitrary as the way shadows fall on a building. For about three to four weeks I move around in a zombie-like state punctuated by the occasional crying jag. Then, just as suddenly as the depression started, I bounce back into my “normal”, relatively happy self. Rise, wash, repeat.

At the moment I’m going through one of those downs and it’s gotten so bad that I actually cried in public no less than three times this week. My friends say they’ve seen me in worse shape before, so I guess there’s no reason for me to panic. It’s just one of those things I have to go through. Of course, it doesn’t make the present any less awful for me.

I noticed something interesting about this particular down though: my musical taste expanded to accommodate classic rock and folk music. Well okay, maybe it has something to do with the fact that the most depressing songs (in my opinion) fall under those genres. If you listen to most the sad songs made over the last five years, they’re usually about getting screwed over by love. Nobody sings about getting screwed over by life anymore. I don’t want to hear songs about getting dumped because I don’t have a broken heart; I have a broken soul. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. I wish I had a broken heart because at least I can point out where the problem lies. But I don’t even have the luxury of blaming some stupid boy for this horrible, inexplicable sadness I’m going through at the moment.

Because writing about depression is getting old, I figured I’d share what I think are the five most depressing songs I know. I’ve arranged them in ascending order, from the song that make me think about difficult but not entirely unpleasant things, to the song that I would most likely play whilst committing suicide, if I were actually suicidal. Which I am not.

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