the katy perry post

--and now switching from Sarah Mclachlan to Katy Perry!!!

It was the concert that almost never was--not only because Typhoon Ondoy and Pepeng literally wiped out Luzon but because I had no more money after and could barely, really barely afford to go to the concert.

But as the isla gods were generous, so were the concert gods.

It started out with a frazzling Saturday afternoon. It was already 2:30pm and I just got out of the shower. Our--Angel, Daene and I--meet-up plan changed every half-hour: from Megamall to Rockwell to Glorietta. (Mall much?) I literally rode the bus with my hair wet. I was literally using the aircon to "blow dry" my hair (the person across the aisle prolly thought I was whack), which really wasn't a great idea; I just ended up tying my hair back.

The thing with the traffic from my house to Manila is, it's like a box of chocolates: You'll never know what you're gonna get. But you can be sure that on a Saturday, you'll most likely get stuck somewhere. That in mind, I couldn't help get my neurotic self tied into knots, wishing buses could fly. Or run over other cars at 200kph.

I rode the Cubao bus on impulse--not the LRT/Taft one, which would actually bring me closer to MOA, where the concert would be held. But I was supposed to meet the girls at Glorietta, on the off chance that (yes, I still hoped) I'd get to Makati by 4:30 pm. Which of course was not the case.

But the gods are truly great and they wanted this night to be amazing!

I stepped out of the bus around 5:30, almost 6 at Mantrade. Daene had just called to say she and Angel were on EDSA, and could I meet them at the Paseo something (Daene, I forget)? Not possible because I didn't where that was (and confirmed later with Daene, not walkable from my drop off point unless I have suicidal tendencies and consider crossing SLEX adventurous).

But with Angel as passenger driver/expert navigator/party guide, Daene maneuvered her car to pick me up!!! Yey!!!

At this point, the worst was over. Katy time na!


The party literally started in Daene's car. As soon as I got into Daene's car, I put on my two-hour project of a headband (100% recycled, pawis lang ang puhunan). And!!! More importantly--I have said it and I will say it again: Daene always has the best playlist! We got into groove with Katy on the speakers as we cruised our way looking for walkable parking. Again, the concert gods were on our side: Just when we thought the guards were playing tricks on us and we'd be circling around MOA for hours to hit the sweet spot, we found one near the church and so freakin' close to the concert venue.

We had our girly prep time--which for me isn't a daily occurrence. But helloOo?? For this night, I donned a dress!!! (Kahit may tights, Eynj. It's still a dress.) So what's a little make-up??? As a token of celebration to femininity (it is a Katy Perry concert!), I liberally applied Angel's blush to my virgin cheeks (Loveit by the way!).

We hadn't had dinner by then (Si Daene, not even lunch; that cookie doesn't count) so we kinda pounced on the McDonald's girls who were, I realized, equally pouncing on hungry concert-goers at the entrance. Too late did we realize that there were more food choices inside but what the hell--You can never go wrong with McDo.

While munching on our respective burgers and nuggets, we scouted for THE spot. There were already a lot of people lining the barricades between the VIPs and the Gold ticket holders (i.e. us). A lot of teens. Couples. Even oldies and parents. Good thing we found ourselves behind the sound/light control booth, which gave us unobstructed viewing pleasure (save for moments caused by security personnel with itchy feet and a man (or woman?) who eventually fainted during the concert).

Aside from the basurahan and the portalet, we also found ourselves next to the tallest guy in the world--Hahaha! Okay, not really. Upon interrogation, we found out he's "six-one," thus, the monicker Mang Six-One. Probably oblivious to our girly guffaws, he was the subject of our pre-concert conversation. ("Grabe ang tangkad naman niyan." "Ngitian mo naman!") He was so tall and stoic, posing an intimidating figure to little girlies like us who just wanted to have fun. Because we were crazy and drunk on adrenaline, we gathered our gumption and exuded our sexual wiles and said, "Kuya ang tangkad mo naman. Pwedeng pa-picture?"

Bwahahaha! Just when we thought we'd get a nasty stare and a snarl, he cracked a smile and said as Angel and I posed, "Paano? Ganito?" as though he was cuffing Angel and me on the neck for being bad girls.

Although, I think this one was more sanay in getting pictures with concert-goers.

Probably had a thing for Eynj too, whose nuggets eventually went to him, the poor soul who'd been there since six in the morning.

Fast-forward to the concert: All I can remember is singing along to Katy. She jumped on the stage in this pink velvet two-piece thing-y (not exactly something for swimming so I couldn't call it a swimsuit) that reminded me of '60s pin-up girls. She hit the stage singing one of the songs on my Katy Perry Favorites playlist and one of the songs of my pathetic life: Fingerprints... and then she went on to sing another of my ultimate, ultimate favorites and again the song of my (love) life: One of the Boys. Then and there, I could go home happy and sated! Lovelovelove!

I remember pumping my fists in the air and actually mouthing off the words with her (can't say I can sing), proving that my Katy Perry pre-immersion was effective. (Oh! I don't wanna be/One of the bo-o-o-oys/One of your guys!)

I'm so glad I wasn't behind myself or well, somelike me because I'd probably smack that person--myself--in the head. In stark reality, that would be the tweens behind us who only knew "I Kissed a Girl" and "Thinking of You" and already deemed themselves as fans. Posers!

There's Self-Inflicted (I can't stop, don't care if I lose! Baby you are the weapon I choose! These! Wounds! Are! Self-inflicted!), If You Can Afford Me (If you want me-e, the cherry on top!), and I'm Still Breathing (... but we've been dead for a while. This sickness has no cure..!)!

Love love love. And more love.

When the concert ended, Angel, Daene and I were all in accord: No need to scream for encore. We definitely got our money's worth.

Post-concert, we decided to move the party to the Fort, in hopes of catching Katy at--hmm, I can't remember the club's name. Definitely not Embassy. I think its sister club that also starts with an E.

But first, we had a real dinner at Trio. (Love their pizza, definitely great crispy thin crust.) Because Angel and Daene wanted to introduce me to the party world and to possibly hook a guy by the end of the night, they encouraged me to hit on the waiter for warm-up. Sadly, even though I've had my generous share of the margarita Daene treated us to, I was so chicken. (So chicken, the chicken's insulted to call me chicken.) For the life of me, I could not. (And now must prepare myself for spinsterhood.)

I just want to post this one for no other reason but the fact that it's hilarious. Love ya, Eynj. I cropped you out of this picture Daene, but I love you too. :)

But I have to say, and will swear by this, Daene may look innocent but she's got some tricks up her cutesy-patootsy puff sleeves. The subtle lines she comes up with--!!! Daene's definitely a good wingman. Def. I will testify if needed.

And Angel has a nose for parties. She led the way to--somewhere. (Please note that I was intoxicated at this point. Succeeding events somewhat alcohol-tinged and hazy.) And before you know it, we were body-bumping against strangers. (Literally body-bumping because the modern-day version of Casanova whom I was with that night would push me against a gyrating male form in hopes of literally crashing me into my special-someone's life.)

Can you say, Culture shock?

Wasn't my scene, but I'm happy to say, Been there, done that.

Called it quits after a bit but still tried for Ponti. No such luck there; by the time we got there, they've already let the people home and were getting ready for the Pacquiao fight the following day.

But the party never ends just because the music stopped. We headed back to my place to crash. Ended up talking... and talking... and talking... while the lights at the Ayala Triangle gave us a show.

The next thing I know, I'm taking a shower at five in the morning. Just as I was about to settle in "for the night," I caught a glimpse of a beautiful sunrise and thought it was classic way to end a crazy/beautiful night out with Angel, Daene, and Katy Perry.