Dear David Cook…

Dear David Cook,

I wanted to tell this to you last night, when I met you for a grand total of 60 seconds—but I couldn’t, because I feared I was going to start crying.

My mom and I are huge fans of yours. When you first came to Manila, she had just been diagnosed with cancer and couldn’t watch your show. I know that was an even more difficult time for you, with your brother just passing on days before due to cancer (damn cancer).

What I really wanted to say (beyond a tragic, “Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”) is that Permanent helped me at my worst. It was redemptive, and it helped me understand what my role was as a beloved fought a crippling disease.

Your concert in Manila still seems surreal to me (don’t get me started on briefly seeing you in person—you are too glorious). All I could have wished for was for my mother to be with me, and we could have danced and sang along to your songs (she did so with Michael Johns—if only you came earlier!).

Thank you for your music—which I find to be tragic, hopeful, comforting, inspiring, and redemptive (yes, I am a word nerd).



P.S. Devin’s guitar pick hit me on the face. I managed to retrieve it after the show. That’s the first time I caught anything during a concert. You guys are amazing.


Rolling in the Deep

Here’s an alternative version to Adele’s “Ice Bitch in Pain” original. Yes, I adore David Cook. He may look like your regular long-haul trailer truck driver up close, but man, the guy is just oozing with sex appeal when he performs.

Yes, I love a man with a good dose of grit in him.