Ang Hindi Nagwawalang Lola

Last Saturday, my friend Marie Jamora celebrated her debut feature film Ang Nawawala with an “Ang Nagwawala” party that she and Mei Bastes organized with all of Marie’s favorite bands (most of them found on the film’s soundtrack). I rarely go out and stay out anymore because I am the biggest workaholic I know, but in my head, Saturday was going to be an exception — first to support Marie, second because its been ages since I’ve been to any gigs here, and third because it was Quark Henares’ first night back from America and I haven’t seen him since Christmas.

I made plans to go late, so as not to further ruin Quark’s surprise arrival (I had nearly screwed up his whole surprise a week earlier and had to resort to lies and fake twitter wars just to attempt to cover up his returning to Manila). The traffic on Malugay Street, on the way to B Side was horrendous at 11 p.m., and I said to Erwin Romulo, “Grabe, daming tao, ano to, hipster party of the year?”Oo nga eh.”It completely was. I have never seen the B Side courtyard so full, or experienced it so hot. Loads of my friends who I hadn’t seen in ages were there, along with hundreds of kids who I didn’t know. All the bands in Manila I loved and have’t seen live in forever were playing: Ciudad, The Itchyworms, Pedicab, Sandwich, Tarsius, Blast Ople to name a few. The award-winning film soundtrack was being played live, and the super-cute star of the film, Dominic Roco, was hanging about providing eye candy for girls everywhere. It was a freaking great gig.

Yet about 20 minutes in, I realized there was no way in hell I was going to stay out late. It was just too hot, too crowded and I was too old.

I have to say that it makes me feel bad. 

To say that I am not the most secure person is an understatement, and things like this really throw me off. The people I probably love the most in the Philippines were practically all there and yet I couldn’t wait to leave. I used to be Pedicab’s number one fan, but now I didn’t know the first song. In fact, had Raimund Marasigan not caught me mid-French exit and bought me a bottle of water to solve my lame “Uh, wala kasing tubig, bibili lang ako ng tubig sa labas”excuse, I don’t think I would have even made it to Pedicab’s set. It’s not that I didn’t want to hang or didn’t want to see the bands — I still had a blast jumping around to Ciudad, and singing the old school Pedicab songs I did know onstage with them. It’s just that I could not deal with being amongst 200 people I didn’t know and didn’t give a crap about.

It terrifies me to think that I have outgrown things I used to love doing. And it scares me even more to think that I’ve changed and that I might lose my friends because I can’t do what they love doing with them anymore.

I remember the last time I felt like this. Back in the day, when I had attempted to do my second degree in Fine Arts in UP and my band Death By Tampon was in full swing, I had lived in Xavierville and nearly every day I would meet up with my friends at Meatshop on Xavierville Avenue just to hang. It was so much fun, we would be there for hours and I think I survived two breakups thanks to that place. I’d go there before a gig, after a gig, after band rehearsals at MRS, after school. If I wasn’t at Meatshop, I’d be at Admit One, or Terno A Go Go, or any gig that was going on. I was just always out. Then one day I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t do the whole “let’s meet up and drink” thing, I couldn’t go to the gigs. I couldn’t do the late night tambays. I just wanted to stay home and sew.

It really sucks to realize that your priorities have changed, and it’s even worse when it feels as if its only happening to you. Back then, I worried about missing out. I worried about outgrowing my friends. I worried about being replaced.

But here’s the best thing about getting old — you realize that the things you used to worry about were never worth the worry after all. You can always see your friends the next day minus the 200 hipsters, minus the smoke, the heat and the noise and you can still whine about your never-ending teenage crush, or talk about someone’s weird cluster-phobia, or just make fun of someone else in the room. Fortunately there are still some things and some friends that we’ll never outgrow.

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Ang Nawawala opens at select theaters Sept. 12. For more about the film, visit www.angnawawala.com.