My So-Called Life

There was a time, pre-persona-n0n-grata days, when I liked Claire Danes. And only because she was playing Angela Chase, the lead character, in one of my favorite TV shows in college: My So-Called Life. Our ex-friend in college (who shall remain unnamed because she evolved into someone mean and domineering) taped it from cable. We spent two days straight on their den doing a marathon of the show, pausing only for quick meals, microwave popcorn, water and bathroom breaks. Nineteen episodes roughly equates to more or less nineteen hours. (The ex-friend wouldn't lend us the soundtrack, because "may affinity" daw siya dun. Whatev. She must getting a heart attack with the advent of Torrent. How the heck can she keep people from downloading anything that she has an affinity with?)



Last night, when Beng, Mitzie and I were watching the opening of one episode, it was pure nostalgia.

"Oh waw. Everytime I hear that song I remember you and Ate Mitzie," Beng remarked. Yep, we were totally into it.

The plot is shallow of course, it's all about the trials and tribulations of a fifteen year old girl, but we were awed that we could actually relate to her: we had our own issues with our mothers (Mitzie to a higher degree and myself to a lesser degree), we both had a Jordan Catalano in our lives (gorgeous guys who made our week just by acknowledging our existence by raising an eyebrow in our direction), and of course, her fashion sense. We went through a phase when we were both so consumed by a desire to dye our respective hair "crimson glow." (To the point that we were obsessing about the henna products in Body Shop that assured us of a subtle auburn look. Mitzie did it, I just couldn't. To this day, my hair is virgin from all sorts of treatment. But I digress.)

And the clothes! The show came at a time when grunge was so in. I was so enamored with her outfits, that I've taken to wearing them to school, whenever I could. It's hard to wear tartan skirts or long-sleeved, mini-dresses when I have to ride a jeepney to school. (Di pa uso ang FX.)

We were part of the group that hemmed and hawed when the show got canceled after only one season. I kid you not.

I think in a way, we're still living our so-called lives. There are always issues but we've learned to cope with them sans the teenage angst ("angst is so 90s" said Pepe Diokno) and emo-shit baggage we had before. We've realized it's easier to live happier lives and to have cheerful days when we've matured because we're no longer asserting to be treated like adults. For a lot of us, there is still that cute boy whom we like but gives us thrills down our spine just by smiling at us, there are still issues with our parents (who will forever treat us like children), and there are things that we are unable to do because it's not yet the right time yet we are impatient to get it done. But it's okay. We've grown. We're no longer fifteen. We've reached an age where we've gotten our identities; where we know who we are and what we are capable of doing; of knowing who our real friends are and who are there just to take advantage of you; and knowing what truly makes us happy. Instead of being told of what should make us happy.

(Hmmm. Is it just me or is this entry just bordering on being emo? Forgive, forgive. It's what going back in time can do to me.)