I first encountered this poem when I was a high school senior studying under Joel Toledo. He wasn’t nearly as prolific back then—it was ten years ago—but even at 16, I thought that his poetry had a lilting musical quality rimmed with powerful imagery. I hero-worshipped the guy throughout high school and my first couple of years in college, and hung out at the Batcave (a small tunnel where the teachers often smoked during breaktimes) whenever I could upon graduating from high school. I never liked cigarettes, and he often teased me for speaking in Filipino with a colegiala accent, but I willingly held my breath to listen to what he had to say about literature, art, and life in general. He also listened to me rant about school. One time, he set me up with one of his friends, a student taking an M.A. in Creative Writing. We made it through one date.

At that time, I had big dreams of becoming a writer. I was into literature and not journalism (I had yet to reconcile the two), and I probably would have never dreamt that I would be where I am now. I had different dreams back then. He lent me books by Ray Bradbury, whom I still read at every opportunity I get, and volumes of poetry. I spent a lot of time in my freshman year at UP searching for Bradbury’s short stories and novels on the fourth floor of the main library, where novels were kept in dusty shelves. Time passed and I stopped visiting my old high school. I started getting published in a national broadsheet and several magazines when I was a college sophomore. Of course the trappings of the industry—the freebies, the relative fame, knocking cheekbones with power players—got to me. I was 19 years old, a teenager who got lucky with a scrap of talent and some hard work.

I visited him once in the middle of my event-hopping, makeup-hoarding phase. I was once close enough to him to be invited to his wedding, but by then, we didn’t have that much in common anymore. I believed I was through with admiring starving artists, while I’m pretty sure that he thought I had sold my soul back then. “Sayang ka,” he told me.

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This is how excited we were for the prom, even if we pretended it didn't mean that much to us. We passed notes and little booklets about it in the days leading up to the day itself.

It was with a jolt that I realized that today—April 2—was the day that we held our prom 10 years ago. 10 years! I remember the date only because we made such a big deal of the prom back then, even if we didn’t want to admit to to ourselves. The guy I was seeing back then (in the inimitable way that Manila high schoolers ‘kinda’ date someone) projected a ‘the prom is silly and I’m above all this’ attitude about things, but he gave me a white gold necklace and had our prom photos enlarged and framed. Go figure. Of course back then, I was kilig, but looking back, we didn’t really know what we were doing or where we were going. But I will admit that it was a memorable point in high school—going beyond crushes, and really falling in love with someone for the first time. We had been seeing each other in a non-commital way, but the prom started the avalanche that comprised our senior year.

I’m writing this entry sitting on the floor, laptop perched on my knees, while my friends are playing Rock Band. Had you told me back then that I would find myself doing what I’m doing now (the blogging and the Rock Band, that is), I would’ve rolled my eyes. How positively uncool! Maybe at one point I might’ve dreamt that the high school guy and I might’ve ended up together for good; I don’t know. Maybe I never really thought of my future as far as 10 years back then. It’s safe to say that I probably assumed that I would be stable by now, possibly engaged, and with a thriving career. Well, I’m definitely not getting hitched anytime soon. As for my career… Well, we’ll see what happens after grad school. The only thing I have going for myself at the moment is that 16-year-old me would’ve approved of my current job as a magazine editor.

Ten years. Some old classmates are married or engaged; some have children, some have moved abroad. Some are living the lives they imagined back when they were 16; some are doing the exact opposite. Gone are the demure, giggly schoolgirls that we were back then, dressed in jewel-toned gowns and sparkly tiaras, having our first encounters with full makeup and sweaty hand-holding. People talk about careers now, or their kids. Sex is no longer taboo—but when we were 16, if people said you weren’t a virgin anymore, it was one of the biggest insults they could throw your way.

I got home late last night, but when I saw the calendar, I texted an old friend. At 4am. “Just realized prom was exactly 10 years ago! We’re old,” I typed. I just had to tell her, because it wasn’t a mere memory that I wanted to dredge up. It was a checkpoint: what did we have to show for ourselves in those 10 years, and how much had changed?

She replied a couple of hours later, but I was asleep by then: ”Yeah, was thinking of that last week… April 2 diba? I still remember well. Sometimes I miss how simple life was then.”

At a time when I can’t go through one day without worrying about the future, it would be nice to transported to a time when our biggest worries were centered on dates and gowns and tiaras, even for just one night. I wish I could go to the prom again.

Yes, I know that most fashions are recycled, and that’s it’s inevitable for some old trends to come back. I also know that the ’90s are back with a vengeance. But I didn’t expect one of high school’s silliest trends to be back so soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the return of… elephant pants! (“Elepants”)

Store away your skinnies, as these floor-skimming trousers are staples for the Fall 2010 season. I must be getting old because I’m definitely not rushing out to grab myself a pair. When high school ended, I discarded my elephant pants because I realized I looked silly in oversized pants—and they didn’t do any wonders for the figure, either.

But fashion, which constantly manages to revive trends that were considered big mistakes (parachute pants, for one thing), is at it again. Don’t get me wrong—some resuscitated trends look pretty good, but I guess wide-legged jeans are too close to home for me to wear again at the moment. Flared pants, maybe. Menswear trousers, sure. But pants with really wide hems? They just make me think of junior high school, circa 2000-2001.

Katie Holmes wearing pants featuring two '90s trends: the high waist and wide hems

Check out these floor sweepers at the Milan Fashion Week

Maybe if I looked like Kate Moss in them..

So, what do you think of the trend? To wear or not to wear?

(Photos from this website)

(Day 13, 30-Day Blog Challenge)

I have a photograph / Preserve your memories / They’re all that’s left you

–“Old Friends/Bookends,” Simon & Garfunkel

After adding a couple of co-workers, I noted that I had 1,833 friends on Facebook. Some of them are close friends, others are old classmates, and most are acquaintances from the industry I work in. A few others are relatives whom I don’t know but have the same last name as I do. Recently, I read a Tweet from my brother, who was cleaning out his Facebook list. 250 friends deleted, he typed. I thought it was a great idea, but a lot easier to do when you’re a student. In the industry I work in, where so much depends on egos, the simple act of unfriending someone can spell social disaster. Read More…