strings of memories

True confession: Fact. I did a bit of songwriting as a teen. At fifteen, I fell in love with my sister's guitar. We just connected in ways I cannot explain. Three years later, when I was old enough to apply for credit, it was my very first big ticket item. I had some very poignant moments with my guitar (which I called John, don't ask :P) --- more meaningful than any relationship I had had at that time. I can't say I was very good, but I taught myself how to play out of passion. My calloused fingers, pages and pages of words I had intended to use in songs, and my overworked guitar were proof.

I told myself it didn't matter that I was never very good at it and the only thing that mattered was that it was a form of self-expression. It was a way to pour out my most intimate feelings and emotions. I think the reason we've spent so much time together was because unlike a real person who could be harsh and judgmental, John sat with me through it all -- good or bad, happy or sad. I was very insecure and protective about my songs. I protected it much like a diary, with no witnesses but my tape recorder.

As the era of social networking marched in, I got involved with a creative group of people who were very much interested in getting their voice (and talents) heard. I was very hesitant at first in sharing with the world my most intimate thoughts and feelings. I resisted their invitations at first as I needed first to convince myself that it was okay for me to share what I had written in privacy. When I was finally able put myself out there, wore my heart on a sleeve so to speak, I was overwhelmed by the reception (and I can't deny being patronized sometimes, because for me, it still wasn't good enough). Don't get me wrong, it was a great experience. In fact, knowing I will somehow share them with someone made me want to play the guitar better, write better.

I met an amazing group of talented people whose passion for music and the arts were comparable to mine. This amazing group of people were the same ones that led me to Mr. Pearls. The long nights, that time of coffee houses and acoustic sets were a significant part of my life. (If you're ever interested in looking them up, check out MStudio)

A good friend had told me that one of my songs was played at the end of a TV production aimed for a local television show. It's a multicultural network so I don't actually expect you to find it in circulation and I never saw it myself, so I can't really vouch for it. It sounds promising in retrospect, although I was told that no credits were written or given to me. It saddens me because I know my song was not the greatest hit or what have you, but I don't understand how anyone can just use it without even asking for permission, or giving me a little bit of credit. Truth be told, I didn't even want to have that song released because first of all, I wrote that song in my teens, when I was on the verge of my first heartbreak. I had one foot out the door, and undecided about the outcome of what turned out to be a disastrous relationship. I didn't like the final edit because it wasn't how I had written it originally. A refrain was added which in my opinion didn't really go with how I wanted the song to be. But anyway, after all that it's out there and apparently being used without my knowledge. No, I'm not gonna tell you the title of the song, because it is out there and I'd be embarrassed to have to explain my mindset when it was written. Part of me is relieved because the song being used without credit to me will not automatically link it back to me, but at the same time, I hold on to this song just like a treasured memory I preferred to have kept in the pages of my diary.

This reminded me of The Meantime Girl article I wrote that became a popular forwarded message without my knowledge. I still think about it from time to time because it is a memory that meant a great deal to me and is now just being randomly passed around without care. Oh well. I guess a lesson in giving credit when credit is due is wayyy overdue. 

room for nostalgia

The Meantime Girl in print! Of course, it is only for me, but still I can't help but feel excited about it. Finally, a collection of my blogs. Makes me feel so nostalgic.

Speaking of nostalgic, who knew that this picture (taken just last summer) would be so different from how things are now.

"googling"

I like that term "googling" and yes, yes, I know, it's a bad habit -- I googled myself again. It doesn't hurt anybody and by the way, I heard John Mayer, who I've just decided I have a love-and-hate relationship with, googles himself everyday to see what sort of news/dirt/gossip are out there about him. Not that I can really compare myself to him or anything; I am simply rationalizing.

I don't know why it bothers me (this referring to a certain "meantime girl" article being out there in the messy worldwide web). After all I sort of brought it to myself. I remember vaguely sending it, without my signature to a friend of mine (some friend, huh?) about a boy I was coveting at that time (in my now seemingly distant past) in hopes that I might relieve myself of the agony of unrequited love. A few years later, another friend asked about possibly contributing an article to a web e-zine called Rice Cafe (now defunct) for their "Dating/Relationship" section. I guess in a way, I wanted my voice to be heard. I wanted my meantime boy to know how I felt even if it was in fact, a long shot. And so, boldly, I hit send. (Sadly, of course, I don't think he's ever read it). And the rest is history.

Some are nice enough to give me credit (thank you). Some attempt to rewrite and add their own things (opinions, personal touches) into it (which, I do not appreciate). I mean, there was one who tried to turn the whole thing around and made it about a meantime boy (yet used the original piece word for word! can you say plagiarizing?!?) And again, I don't know why I'm so outraged, but I am.

I'm not an arrogant person. I don't want to come out of this as someone who's trying to win royalties over something that I'm not even sure is a masterpiece. I just want to be given credit where it is due. Is that too much to ask?

And maybe people who will stumble upon my new-ish blog will say, "well, how can you prove that you're really the Jan Javier who wrote this article when your new blog talks about nothing but food, rants, arts and crafts and nothing in comparison to anything anyone would ever expect?" (although, in my defence, I think cupcakes, and crafting are more interesting topics than the sad demise of my horror story of a lovelife) And the answer is......I can't. I can't prove that I wrote it. I only know that I did (sounds silly, I know.) I've had a history of creating blogs and un-creating them after writing a little bit too much about things that happened in my life. People I know, apparently are much more connected to the web as I've anticipated and I always end up being burned because of something I said (I mean, wrote) no matter how fictional and cryptic I try to make it seem.

And maybe the truth is, I am not that person anymore. Maybe the reason I was writing about my so-called lovelife was that my life then felt so unfinished that I needed to create these stories so that I'd have something to look forward to. I wanted them to remind me about people in my past that had been important to me one way or another. I am married now and finally happy and though the story does not end there, I don't feel the compulsion to rewrite what was already perfect. Oh and yes, the meantime boy is not my meantime boy anymore. He's out there now, older, wiser and finally happy with someone else. I can't end this blog post better than what Sandra said in the last scene of "While You Were Sleeping"

"Life doesn´t always turn out the way you plan."

I don't know what things could have happened had my meantime boy realized I was writing about him. I don't know if things would have worked out the way I had imagined. I only know that I am much happier now with a person who couldn't be more perfect for me. A person who had made me realize that the finest of things come to those who truly deserve it the moment it's least expected.

The tag line, "No Pressure. No Worries" was not in the original "The Meantime Girl" article but was added by the editor-in-chief of Rice Cafe. I went on to write two more articles for Rice Cafe and a few more that were never published.

updating at 4:00 am: Holy S**t!?! this website is still alive?!?? Resurrected?!? how?!? Anyway, visit it before it's gone!

the meantime girl revisited - jan javier

I've recently come across this article from a random blog site. I admit. Every once in a while, I google my own name to see where my internet self has been and it always amazes me how far it has travelled. I wrote this a long time ago, way back into my teens about a boy I amazingly still remember. First launched at a site called Rice Cafe, published by a friend who cared enough to get my voice heard. Of course, I still wonder whether my meantime boy ever did get a clue although none of this matters now. It almost became a book and I still have remnants of its unfinished chapters. Whether I would ever finish it is a question still lingering in the air....


THE MEANTIME GIRL
No Pressure, No Worries
by Jan Javier

She’s the one you call when you need an instant date to your next company party. She’s the first person you can think of calling when you just had a fight with “the girl”. She willingly gives you the “woman’s perspective” on anything without getting all emotional and sentimental about every single thing. You love hanging out with her because, she’s funny, she’s quirky and for the meantime, she’s not interested in relationships which makes it perfect for you (she’ll joke about your “player” reputation instead of frowning about it). You love calling her because she doesn’t get into fights with you about why you didn’t call earlier or anything trivial like the way you dress, or why you put too much gel on your hair. You never have to try hard to look nice when you come and see her. Although she is not afraid to make fun of you and tell you how stupid you look with your new highlights. You never have to open doors for her or douse yourself with perfume because you know for sure, she will make fun of you. There’s no awkward silence in your conversations and you never have to worry about making stupid jokes just to fill the silence because you know, she will make you feel silly about your corny jokes.

Your relationship with the meantime girl is based more on silliness, wise cracks, insults and occasional flirting. You know she will make fun of you when tell her details of your rendezvous with “the girl” but you tell her anyway because it’s so much fun when you can laugh at something that seemed absurd at the time without bruising your ego. Plus, the stories become really funny anecdotes you can actually retell over and over again. It works both ways because she will tell you details of her dates with her exes and you crack each other up simply because her stories make you feel less of an idiot afterwards.

She’s actually quite a challenge to be friends with if not for her very engaging sense of humor. She can come up with a million definitions for “moron” and “idiot” and she’s not afraid to use them on you. She’s brutally honest and she hits you more times than you care to count. She will suggest books for you to read but expect that she will mess up the ending of books you haven’t read or even movies or TV shows you haven’t seen. She has PMS almost constantly and will insult you at every opportunity. She eats as much as you do and actually finishes her food when you eat out. She takes advantage of the fact that you can legally drive and with all the free dating tips she gives you, you feel obliged to be her personal chauffeur.

And of course, beyond her i-don’t-need-a-man exterior, she has that peculiar, almost adorable way of making you feel that what you say or do actually matters. You have mastered the art of taking note of every single little thing because she taught you that girls get gaga over these “little” things. She will help you pick out the perfect gift for “the one”. You now know the value of compliment even if it’s the simplest thing you can possibly come up with. And she made it easier to understand why girls can never have enough bags or shoes or lip gloss. Or why girls get so irritated at certain times of the month.

Your relationship with the meantime girl is perfect simply because you never have to try too hard to make it work – no emotional melodramas, no complex relationship stuff that always make you go crazy. At the same time, she has the sensitivity of a real best friend in a way that she can read you than most of the guys you’ve ever hung out with. She can tell almost instantly when you’re feeling bad about something and offer you a quick trip to the nearest coffee place so you can talk about emotional stuff without feeling like an idiot (strangely enough, these talks don’t feel as strangulating as when you have the “real talk” with the “real” girl). She is always available when you need to talk or to hang out with anyone else who can talk about anything other than basketball. And it’s almost amazing that you’ve never actually pictured her to take the place of “the girl” even when you can almost swear you two have had your “moments”. Of which, you can remember her giving you the don’t-you-dare-fall-in-love-with-me look that she seemed to have perfected over the years.

Admit it. Being with the meantime girl makes you think of being with “the one”; especially, because there’s something about her that you can’t seem to get enough of. The truth is, she is more attractive and smarter than most of the girls you’ve ever gone out with. You have been a witness of how she grew into this beautiful woman anyone would be crazy not to spend forever with. You’ve had moments when you try to convince yourself to think of her as the girl friend, the alternative to your guy friends, and not as a “real” woman who can take the place of “the girl”. And though in moments of heightened loneliness, you sometimes think of the possibility of something happening between you and the meantime girl but you are too scared to tell her how you feel. What you feel for her is something so difficult to define that it wouldn’t be fair to consider possibilities of anything romantic happening between the two of you. Plus, the fact that you know more about her personal life, i.e. her past dating experiences than any other guy, makes you feel that going beyond friendship would mean betraying her trust.

So instead, meantime boy, you prefer to keep quiet and enjoy the company of the meantime girl. It’s comforting because it’s safe. There are no expectations to take things to the next level. No pressure. No real worries. Plus, being with her has tested all your capabilities to be with “the one”. And when that time comes, you know that all the conflicting emotions you have for the meantime girl would dissolve. Though in the back of your mind, you hope that this “meantime-ness” would remain and that your meantime girl wouldn’t rush to be someone else’s forever. You’d hope she’ll be by your side to pick you up in case you fall down again. Really, there is no reason to doubt the value of her existence. You have reason to hope for the best in your future relationships. After all, you’ve had years and years of practice.

If you've gone this far, Please Read.