My Chemical Romance

The night's chemistry was perfect. Six women - an interesting mix in terms of types of music and deadlines - decided to "watch" the concert at the Fort (we didn't have tickets and planned to simply listen at the roadside); cook and pack pasta in pesto sauce for baon (since we were more like going on a picnic rather than to a concert); bring chips and popcorn (oh well, takot magutom); and not to drink at all (since there are no toilets out there in the open field).

(The pasta didn't make it to our 'picnic', we wolfed it down before setting out.)

We came prepared. The whole day in the office, I listened to My Chemical Romance to set the mood, Chulah wikipedia-ed the band to learn more about them while Glen watched them in YouTube.


So there we were trying to get a sense of MCR. But we had more fun watching the punks who like us could not afford decent passes than watching the video wall as MCR played one song after another. Right there and then, Chulah decided to be a punk, sobrang natuwa sa fashion, although we advised her to adopt the attitude more than anything else.

It was a fun night. The only thing that didn't mix well was MCR itself. The band is a Green Day front act and sorely lacks identity. It even sounded like Air Supply towards the end. We didn't finish the concert. Like the punks, we started marching home before the encore ended. We debriefed over bottles of Colt 45 at Edsa Central market in the crowd of call center agents.