a dash of thoughts before leaving the office

all my officemates from the other rooms left and nobody even asked if i was going or not.nobody even bothered to check in on me in my room and ask me if i was coming along.

wow. how insignificant can one feel?

so just to emphasize my solitude and exaggerate my depression, i click on vonda and relish her rendition of alone again naturally.

sheesh. now i'm officially the only person on the floor.

**********

i don't know why but everytime i see rocketman and his ex bistro guy having fun talking with each other i feel so left out, like there's something there that makes me feel like i don't belong.

then again i don't know a lot of people who fall for a guy and his ex in quick succession, and have both of them un-return the gesture, so i guess my situation is a unique put-down.

************

shopping therapy.

off to either national or tower (or both) and grab something.

detox

i was in second year college when i first lit up. it was my lunch break and with nothing to do, i bought a pack of marlboro reds, which was (and still is) readily available throughout campus. i went into the boys' room and hung out at the old sofa sitting across the wall-length mirrors opposite the stalls.

i had no idea how to smoke, i had nobody to teach me. so my initiation into the world of smoking was a reckless puff. i took in a mouthful of smoke and blew it out as quickly as i sucked it in.

over the next few years however, i never really got into the habit, although i got better with time.

my consumption increased by the time i got out of college and began working. i guess it came with my new-found economic capacity. since i was no longer dependent on mom, i could buy some stuff i wanted, and that included cigs.

i really had no reason why i took it up, although i always claim it's an effective diversion from stress and in those moments when i'm extremely bored.

but subconsciously, i think smoking became a status symbol for me. without realizing it, i smoked, because i could afford it. i was a working man, i was earning, and i had the opportunity to spend on things i wanted. i could buy my own clothes. i could eat out. i could pay the rent. and most of all, i could smoke.

so over the last five years, i began to consume cigarettes with increasing regularity, and at present i can down an entire pack of menthols in a day.

and like a lot of people out there, i also want to stop.

the world is already littered with researches relating to the irreversible health effects of smoking. i am sincerely convinced that smoking for the past few years has already done some damage to my health.

i do think i am addicted. and i am stepping in and saving me from myself before it's too late. so last night i drew up a timetable: a month of gradual retreat from this vile habit. i've made quitting one of my life goals. i've began to think of it as an achievement worth my attention and effort. if i can do this, i can do anything. including take on big tobacco.

i would start out with 15 cigs for the next few days, which i have been able to do yesterday and today, and by the 15th of april, i estimate that i will be down to 5 cigs a day. by the late part of april i will allow myself a 5-day 'indiscretion period' wherein i will let myself go beyond my minimum 1 stick to a maximum of 15 sticks a day and then by Labor Day i expect to be rid of the habit once and for all.

it helps that some other people i know are also trying to quit, most notably kit, who has to because of her diabetes. she did the cold turkey approach and is now on her fourth day of abstinence.

in the exhausting, fast-paced and stressful environment called the working world, smoking is as much a social activity as it is a solitary, private decision. in a world in which smoking is the only way we can dare death to go ahead and take us if it can, i've realized that i should start living smart. and smart should be healthy.

funny, but i always told myself that i will only stop smoking if there is a substitute -- a pair of lips to kiss all the time. but i've realized the utter foolishness of that requirement. what good is a kiss if i'm dead by the time those lips get to me?

No Going Back

So you went and did it after all. I always said it was your choice. And that you'd have my support no matter what. And since we never talked about it, this is just to make that clear.

I just wish you hadn't cut me off in the weeks before you made that decision. I would've wanted to have been a part of the process. I didn't think you had to go through it by yourself or with someone who doesn't know you as much as I do. It was just one of those times of need in which I could have been there, and I wasn't and for that I'll always be sorry.

But this I know. It was not an easy choice. And it's your body. I wouldn't even want to be in the position you were in. I'm happy to know, though, that the smile is back on your lips. That there is some semblance of enthusiasm in your eyes nowadays. And things are back to whatever passes for normal in your (our) life.

I know you have your reasons, and I won't presume to understand them. I'm not exactly sure how this decision will play out in the future. What price will be paid? Regardless of whether it ws wrong or right, every decision we make will have their repecussions. What form this one would take, is what worries me.

I just hope you won't be standing at 35 and thinking you could be sending a 9-year-old child to school. I just hope you won't be 35 and married to a man who would think less of you because of the choice you made. I just hope you won't be 35 and making the same decision twice.

I hope you will be at 35 and we can still talk about the boys in your life, and the ones that aren't in mine. I hope you will be at 35 and we'll still be having coffee somewhere, or watching movies together just like when we first met.

This is just to say: however the rest of the world takes the choice you made, I'll be here. I won't judge you.

bush-isms

This is the reason I'm at an internet cafe tonight laughing at my monitor like a huge idiot, while all around me people are probably looking out for sex on mIRC. Maybe I should do the same. *wink*

***
The Complete Bushisms
By Jacob Weisberg
Updated Friday, Feb. 25, 2005, at 9:05 AM PT


"This notion that the United States is getting ready to attack Iran is simply ridiculous. And having said that, all options are on the table."—Brussels, Belgium, Feb. 22, 2005 (Thanks to Fred Kaplan)

"If you're a younger person, you ought to be asking members of Congress and the United States Senate and the president what you intend to do about it. If you see a train wreck coming, you ought to be saying, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Congressman, or Madam Congressman?"— Detroit, Feb. 8, 2005

"Because the—all which is on the table begins to address the big cost drivers. For example, how benefits are calculate, for example, is on the table; whether or not benefits rise based upon wage increases or price increases. There's a series of parts of the formula that are being considered. And when you couple that, those different cost drivers, affecting those—changing those with personal accounts, the idea is to get what has been promised more likely to be—or closer delivered to what
has been promised. Does that make any sense to you? It's kind of muddled. Look, there's a series of things that cause the—like, for example, benefits are calculated based upon the increase of wages, as opposed to the increase of prices. Some have suggested that we calculate—the benefits will rise based upon inflation, as opposed to wage increases. There is a reform that would help solve the red if that were put into effect. In other words, how fast benefits grow, how fast the promised benefits
grow, if those—if that growth is affected, it will help on the red."—Explaining his plan to save Social Security, Tampa, Fla., Feb. 4, 2005

"I'm also mindful that man should never try to put words in God's mouth. I mean, we should never ascribe natural disasters or anything else, to God. We are in no way, shape, or form should a human being, play God."—Appearing on ABC's 20/20, Washington D.C., Jan. 14, 2005

"We need to apply 21st-century information technology to the health care field. We need to have our medical records put on the I.T."—Collinsville, Ill., Jan. 5, 2005

"The CIA laid out several scenarios and said life could be lousy, life could be OK, life could be better, and they were just guessing as to what the conditions might be like."—New York, Sept. 21, 2004

"Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYN's aren't able to practice their love with women all across the country."—Sept. 6, 2004, Poplar Bluff, Mo.

"Tribal sovereignty means that, it's sovereign. You're a—you've been given sovereignty, and you're viewed as a sovereign entity. And, therefore, the relationship between the federal government and tribes is one between sovereign entities."—Washington, D.C., Aug. 6, 2004

"Secondly, the tactics of our—as you know, we don't have relationships with Iran. I mean, that's—ever since the late '70s, we have no contacts with them, and we've totally sanctioned them. In other words, there's no sanctions—you can't—we're out of sanctions."—Annandale, Va., Aug. 9, 2004

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we."—Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004 (Thanks to Alicia Butler.)

"I want to thank my friend, Sen. Bill Frist, for joining us today. … He married a Texas girl, I want you to know. (Laughter.) Karyn is with us. A West Texas girl, just like me."—Nashville, Tenn., May 27, 2004

"I'm honored to shake the hand of a brave Iraqi citizen who had his hand cut off by Saddam Hussein." —Washington, D.C., May 25, 2004

"But the true strength of America is found in the hearts and souls of people like Travis, people who are willing to love their neighbor, just like they would like to love themselves."—Springfield, Mo., Feb. 9, 2004 (Thanks to George Dupper.)

"The ambassador and the general were briefing me on the—the vast majority of Iraqis want to live in a peaceful, free world. And we will find these people and we will bring them to justice."—Washington, D.C., Oct. 27, 2003 (Thanks to Robert Hack.)

"[W]e've had leaks out of the administrative branch, had leaks out of the legislative branch, and out of the executive branch and the legislative branch, and I've spoken out consistently against them, and I want to know who the leakers are."—Chicago, Sept. 30, 2003

"I glance at the headlines just to kind of get a flavor for what's moving. I rarely read the stories, and get briefed by people who are probably read the news themselves."—Washington, D.C., Sept. 21, 2003

"We had a good Cabinet meeting, talked about a lot of issues. Secretary of State and Defense brought us up to date about our desires to spread freedom and peace around the world."—Washington, D.C., Aug. 1, 2003 (Thanks to Tanny Bear.)

"Security is the essential roadblock to achieving the road map to peace."—Washington, D.C., July 25, 2003

"Our country puts $1 billion a year up to help feed the hungry. And we're by far the most generous nation in the world when it comes to that, and I'm proud to report that. This isn't a contest of who's the most generous. I'm just telling you as an aside. We're generous. We shouldn't be bragging about it. But we are. We're very generous."—Washington, D.C., July 16, 2003

"I'm also not very analytical. You know I don't spend a lot of time thinking about myself, about why I do things."—Aboard Air Force One, June 4, 2003

"I recently met with the finance minister of the Palestinian Authority, was very impressed by his grasp of finances."—Washington, D.C., May 29, 2003

"Oftentimes, we live in a processed world—you know, people focus on the process and not results."—Washington, D.C., May 29, 2003

"First, let me make it very clear, poor people aren't necessarily killers. Just because you happen to be not rich doesn't mean you're willing to kill."—Washington, D.C., May 19, 2003

"Let me tell you my thoughts about tax relief. When your economy is kind of ooching along, it's important to let people have more of their own money."—Boston, Oct. 4, 2002

"There's an old saying in Tennessee—I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee—that says, fool me once, shame on—shame on you. Fool me—you can't get fooled again."—Nashville, Tenn., Sept. 17, 2002

"See, we love—we love freedom. That's what they didn't understand. They hate things; we love things. They act out of hatred; we don't seek revenge, we seek justice out of love."—Oklahoma City, Aug. 29, 2002

"Do you have blacks, too?"—To Brazilian President Fernando Cardoso, Washington, D.C., Nov. 8, 2001

"This foreign policy stuff is a little frustrating."—as quoted by the New York Daily News, April 23, 2002

"For a century and a half now, America and Japan have formed one of the great and enduring alliances of modern times."—Tokyo, Japan, Feb. 18, 2002

''I know what I believe. I will continue to articulate what I believe and what I believe—I believe what I believe is right."—Rome, July 22, 2001

"Anyway, I'm so thankful, and so gracious—I'm gracious that my brother Jeb is concerned about the hemisphere as well."—Miami, Fla., June 4, 2001

"But I also made it clear to [Vladimir Putin] that it's important to think beyond the old days of when we had the concept that if we blew each other up, the world would be safe."—Washington, D.C., May 1, 2001 (Thanks to Gene Mosher.)

"It's very important for folks to understand that when there's more trade, there's more commerce."— Quebec City, Canada, April 21, 2001

"Neither in French nor in English nor in Mexican."—Declining to answer reporters' questions at the Summit of the Americas, Quebec City, Canada, April 21, 2001

"I've coined new words, like, misunderstanding and Hispanically."—Radio-Television Correspondents Association dinner, Washington, D.C., March 29, 2001

"A lot of times in the rhetoric, people forget the facts. And the facts are that thousands of small businesses—Hispanically owned or otherwise—pay taxes at the highest marginal rate."—to the Hispanic Chamber of Commerce; Washington, D.C., March 19, 2001

"You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test.''—Townsend, Tenn., Feb. 21, 2001

""They misunderestimated me."—Bentonville, Ark., Nov. 6, 2000

""They said, 'You know, this issue doesn't seem to resignate with the people.' And I said, you know something? Whether it resignates or not doesn't matter to me, because I stand for doing what's the right thing, and what the right thing is hearing the voices of people who work."—Portland, Ore., Oct. 31, 2000

"I think if you know what you believe, it makes it a lot easier to answer questions. I can't answer your question."—In response to a question about whether he wished he could take back any of his answers in the first debate. Reynoldsburg, Ohio, Oct. 4, 2000 (Thanks to Peter Feld.)

"I will have a foreign-handed foreign policy."—Redwood, Calif., Sept. 27, 2000

i can't stop tinkering

i'm thinking of using a new skin for my blog, something like this:



i found it over on this website, with thousands of skins to choose from, although my only comment is that i wish they'd be more specific about the names of their designs. :P

Yey! She's gone! Wuhooo! So long Mikalah! I won't miss ya! Wouldn't wanna be ya! *dance like a madman*

pagong

pagong, (n)., (proper),: 1) Tawag sa Volkwagen Beetle; pareho ng kotseng kuba[A moniker for a Volkswagen Beetle].

2)any of various aquatic and land reptiles having a bony shell and flipper-like limbs for swimming

3)A type of vehicle with wheels on the left side and wheels on the right side. Turtles have two motor bricks, one that drives the wheels on the left side (the left motor), and one that drives the wheels on the right side (the right motor). If the two motors are doing different things, then the turtle will turn. For example, if the left motor is driving forward, and the right motor is off, the turtle will move forward and to the right. If the left motor is driving forward, and the right motor is driving backward, the turtle will pivot to the right in place. It will only move in a straight line if both motors are on and turning in the same direction.

4) the Peregrine in love; quick to the emotion but slow with the moves, e.g. comes across a face only to discover he is already 'in a relationship'. absolute dunce when it comes to hints and come-ons, does not know how to strike up an intelligent conversation, hoping to make up for social ineptitude with dexterity and fortitude in bed.

The Basic Peregrine

Because everyone else is doing it, and because I can't think of anything to write about right now, I figured I might as well list down a hundred things people ought to know about me. It's still a confession, even if a bit mechanical. So here it is:

1. I was a premature baby. I was only eight months old but my mom was starting to have difficulty breathing so she had to be cut.

2. From this, it means I should have been a Scorpio.

3. I was also in an odd position when I was still inside mom. My head was on her right side, so a natural birth was really out of the question.

4. I weighed no more than 6.4 pounds when I was born.

5. I had to be incubated for a couple of days before I could get out of the hospital when I was born.

6. My brother used to pull me to the edge of the bed when I was a baby.

7. I was hit by a jeepney when I was about five years old or something. Nothing serious, except maybe for brain damage. tee-heee!

8. When I was a few months old, I had a serious case of loose bowels, because I inadvertently made dede milk that was already panis. I had to be hospitalized. I had an IV attached to my feet.

9. I grew up in Tondo. Ala J-Lo from the Bronx. Har har.

10. For most of my childhood my mom and I lived in my grandparents' house, which she sold back in 1994, and we had to move out.

11. My dad died when I was three years old.

12. I have five older brothers and one older sister.

13. Obviously I'm the youngest kid.

14. My mom had me when she was already 40.

15. I went to school at the age of 6.

16. My grade school was named Magat Salamat Elementary School. Yep. I'm a 100% product of the public education system.

17. I was late in enrolling for grade school, so they had to put me in the lowest section, Section 16.

18. I was my first grade homeroom teacher's pet.

19. I was first honor in Grade 1. I never was again. Ha ha ha ha!

20. I moved up to the star section when I hit second grade. And stayed there all throughout.

21. My first brush with writing was in fourth grade, when our section was put in charge of putting up the school's newsletter.

22. The name of that newsletter was the Blue and Yellow Gazette, our school colors.

23. I was always at the top of my class during grade school, until the 6th Grade when I was bumped off for no other reason than I was too sensitive.

24. Yep I had bullies in grade school. They always teased me for being 'effeminate'.

25. One of those bullies ended up as the boyfriend of one of my high school crushes (yeah, a girl! *shiver*)

26. I was also late enrolling for high school. I got into Jose Abad Santos (JASHS, not JASMS, mind you) because of the kindness of the PE Supervisor, who said JASHS should take me in because I had an average of 90.

27. High school was a bitch. I was the class introvert, belonging to no group in particular.

28. I had a major crush on Madelynn whose boyfriend Ryan always made her cry. But after all these years, now I have a crush on Ryan. Hahahaha.

29. I had a teacher during my 3rd year who was just butt ugly we used to call her Thundercat, because well, she looked like a cat, and it was a popular cartoon way back then.

30. That same teacher bumped me off from being third honor in high school to a lowly 7th Honor.

31. I still resent that powerplay to this day.

32. I started collecting GI Joes in high school. Childish brat!

33. I also started collecting X-Men comic books in High School. I took my friends Jason and Sonny to Harrison Plaza and we bought issues of X-Men, the series that spun off Uncanny when the teams were split into Blue and Gold.

34. I still have those comic books. Near-mint.

35. I stopped collecting comic books in college.

36. UPCAT was the only college entrance exam I took.

37. I passed. Hahahaha. Obviously. Out of everyone who tried out from our school, only three made it. Actually, two. Czarina was waitlisted.

38. My first choice was geology (what the fuck was wrong with me?)

39. When I enrolled I shifted my papers to a non-quota course because I didn't know what I wanted to do.

40. I ended up in Statistics.

41. Statistics hated me. Math hated me. I hated them back with the ferocity of an injured lion.

42. Flunking Stat 114 in my first sem was me getting back at Math for being such an enigma.

43. I cried after getting that 5.

44. I decided I wanted to go to Journalism instead. So I could write.

45. I was EIC of my High School newspaper. I joined press competitions.

46. I was especially good at proofreading. I placed 1st during my third year.

47. My adviser was a curly-haired man named Mr. Tebelin. Everyone claimed he's my real dad.

48. I shifted to Journalism on my second year in college.

49. I joined an academic organization called Union of Journalists of the Philippines. It was dominated by activists.

50. Not content with UJP, I joined a radical group called Center for Nationalist Studies.

51. I was an activist for two years. Then I mellowed down.

52. I stayed in Kalayaan Dorm in my 2nd sem of my first year in college. I didn't know Eileen was also staying there, and we would know each other only 7 years later.

53. We had sports teams in Kalayaan, and ours was Bossards. My roommate came up with the name. I didn't really like my doormmates. Pretentious and spoiled bunch of PhiSci geeks.

54. In my first semester in UP, I realized I'm gay when I developed a crush on my KAS 1 prof.

55. I still love that prof.

56. I would do anything to have that prof.

57. I used to imagine having sex with that prof on top of his table in his Faculty Center room.

58. Used to. I might start imagining again.

59. I've seen that prof in his swimsuit, during our class excursion. Oh god.

60. During that excursion somebody farted on the bus. I think people thought it was me.

61. When I quit CNS, I was ostracized.

62. I lost more than a dozen friends when I quit the Marx-Lenin-Mao school of thought.

63. I almost didn't finish college. I was so into activism I almost went full-time.

64. My grades suffered because I was enticed more by what I learned outside of the classroom. And because I'm lazy.

65. I paid no more than a total of P8,000 during my entire stay of six years in UP for tuition.

66. That's because I fell under Bracket 4 of the STFAP scheme. Full scholarship with stipend.

67. That stipend was less than a week's baon.

68. I got rejected for the Collegian five times. Just like a certain slipper-shod poet I used to hold in high esteem until he called me a DPA. That bastard.

69. That bastard never got to be Collegian EIC anyway. Good. Idiot enrolled for grad studies, when Colelgian rules say you have to be an UNDERGRAD student. Bwahahaha. Oh wait this list is about me. Ok, I didn't get to be EIC either, contrary to what some people think, hehe.

70. I was accepted into the Collegian during Lourdes' term. All the staff members resigned because she speaks impeccable English. Hahaha.

71. I was 20 when I got into the Collegian. I was second to the oldest writer, the eldest being Abe. Hehehe. (pic below from way back in 2001, and yes, I was THAT fat. But I havent aged, I just grew a goatee as anyone who knows me know, and the hair is just longer and more *ehem* chaotically luscious. Haha. mental note -- upload new pics!)



72. I got my first job in 1999 as a part-time writer for PhilRIGHTS.

73. I moved on to AIJC for a contractual job in 2000, and that's where I met some UNICEF people who also asked me to write for them part-time. I used to write articles for UNICEF-Philippines' website.

74. My first 'real' job was with MODE. I was retrenched two years later when we ran out of funds.

75. Staff benefits at MODE included free lunch. I gained weight. Then I went fat.

76. My boss Au and I used to watch Survivor on our computers together when I was with MODE.

77. Everyone hated my boss. Except me. And I don't know why I didn't. Eventhough sometimes she was overbearing.

78. I used to live in SIkatuna Vill., across my office.

79. I still didn't go to work on time.

80. We had a bundy clock at MODE, and I was summed a total undertime of about uhmmm... basta, tardiness was a problem with me.

81. After MODE temporarily closed shop, I was immediately asked to get on board FORUM. My boss was Bobet, and my officemate was Eileen. And the rest is history. Except the hate, maybe, for the WORST boss I've ever had.

82. Eileen was the one who wanted to quit FORUM, and I wanted to stay hoping Maitet would come on board. When I stumbled upon my draft termination letter sans the benefit of an assessment, I quit on the spot and Eileen went with me.

83. That bitch of a boss accused us of stealing money from FORUM.

84. She eventually left as well. But she did not explain the disappearance of blank checks which she made Maitet, as Treasurer, sign.

85. Maitet recommended me to Ronald for AKBAYAN, and he took me in as staff for the Education Committee.

86. I really thought the old Akbayan headquarters was crummy.

87. He Whose Eyes Do Not Have It became my crush only when he quit IPD and went to work at where we both work now.

88. I remember the first time I ever laid eyes on He Whose Eyes Do Not Have It. But I'm not telling when.

89. I've been in my current job for the longest time now. Two years and two months. I lasted with MODE for two years exactly.

90. I almost quit my current job after last year's rocketman mess.

91. I have a crush on Migs Zubiri and everyone knows it.

92. I think my boss thinks I'm straight.

93. I think my boss thinks I'm gay.

94. The last time I went to report for work on time was the first day I reported for work. So far I've been able to get away with it because I also work weekends.

95. I need a life outside of work. But I suspect I'm not gonna get it.

96. I'm the most tech-savvy in my office. I'm also the youngest.

97. I'm very childish at work. But I'm growing up. I think. Maybe.

98. I refuse to believe that office romance is a big no-no.

99. But I do believe office sex is.

100. Thinking about 100 things about myself is exhausting, but incredibly conceited. And I don't think anyone has the patience to go through all this stuff and say he or she already knows me well.

Solar Solstice

If the stars are to be believed, the next four weeks means that the sun is at its farthest point from my sun sign, Libra. It has entered my zodiac opposite, the sign of Aries, signifying a brand new beginning in the horoscopic cycle.

It means it ought to be one of the harder parts of the year for Librans everywhere. Kind of like a whole month in which everyone can get in on some moment in the spotlight, only to have the light dim and fade upon Libra's turn.

I think I'll be a bitch this month.

Maybe I'll be cranky and do stupid stuff, or maybe I'll just shut the world out and not do much since this aspect will soon pass.

With summer kicking into high gear, I'm beginning to hate the sun. Yesterday at the office, with all other offices closed including the canteen, we had no choice but to eat out. And I kept complaining baout how hot it was. A manifestation of the aspect my sign is in? Maybe.

But I've breezed through 26 summers already, and I think I'll be okay. The stars tell us that when the sun is in the sign opposite yours, it only means one should slow down and take stock of the year past.

After all, in six months' time, it'll be the Librans' turn to shine.

So it's true. We all get our moment under the sun. I just wish it wouldn't bite so much.

forewarned is forearmed

in this most solemn of moments, in this space, in this frame and setting of mind, i declare: i am leaving.

it won't be now, it won't be tomorrow, but soon.

i second-guess myself a lot of times, and sometimes i can't even make up my mind. i may not know where i'm going, but i know this one thing is what i want.

i want to take flight and plant my feet in alien land.

the world is a much bigger place than i can perhaps imagine, and maybe somewhere out there, sanctuary waits.

this is not about money. this is about me in a flying state of mind, about me breaking free from my earthbound condition. this is about me and my dreams.

and thus i declare: soon i will say goodbye to the tides that hold these islands together, bid farewell to her thousand and one shores, and with it, the past.

my wings will grow their span to chase shooting stars, follow the tail of the sun in her mid-day might, breathe the whispering hush of a foggy cloud above, and soar, as if to never go back to land.

and in my flight i seek to leave behind the pain of this heartache. this flight will be different, in that there wil be no baggage allowed. a new beginning, once the ending is at hand.

and so to take this flight, i must look for that ending, that period that demands to put a stop to the story so far.

but so far this is the story, and the story goes that a million battles will still have to be fought, a hundred demons to exorcise and business to finish before the light of day clears the runway for that flight to take off.

there is a harbor out there, i believe, where the tempest of my youth will provide a calm shore to land in, a safe journey's end.

and there, perhaps a new struggle will begin. but how do you fight a battle if you don't even try?

No Lonesome Dove

So yes, for the past few weekends, I have been engaging in a habit most unnatural for a society like the Philippines, which is very social and group-oriented. I have been dating myself. In a world in which they say you are judged by the company you keep, I chose to stand alone and have fun.

Which is not to demean the value of nights out with friends. In fact on Friday night, Tintin, Kit and Annie introduced me to Sangkalan, along Commonwealth Avenue, and after two glasses of bitter Tom Collins I was ready to croon "Insensitive", "Won't Last a Day Without You" and "Is It Okay If I Call You Mine" on the videoke. Yes, I'm sappy. But the waiter seemed to have lost my requests paper, so I was left egging Tintin on while she did a very nice rendition of "Time After Time".

Such moments are not without their own value, but as I've promised myself a few months back, I need to look for myself out there. I can't spend all my time here, when I could be missing out on what's out there. This much I intimated to Kit on the cab on our way home.

You see, while Annie danced to it's rendition of "I Will Survive", I kept thinking why rocketman stood us up after saying he'd join us. See what I mean?

It just feels like there are times when I have to be somewhere else just so I would not find myself thinking about Rocketman, or He Whose Eyes Do Not Have It, or He Who Sleeps on the Wing, or any of those other guys.

Going out by myself -- watching movies, smoking over coffee at Starbucks, browsing at POwerbooks, surveying the CD racks at Odyssey or Tower Records, and simply shopping by myself allows me no time to woolgather about non-lovers and all the love we never made.

So on those occassions when I would run off to Gateway to see a movie, I would make it a point to spend some time going around sans any companions, just to get a feel of how it feels like to not rely on anybody and yet see the world around me.

It could be mistaken for rampa, but I don't mind. Of course a profitably pleasant chance encounter would be most welcome, but the raison d'etre of my wanderings is far more internal than perhaps even I am aware of.

I find a sense of excitement window shopping, when I can go into a store and pick out an item, and if I have enough cash, to buy it. Its encouraging, even if it sometimes feels like I'm falling into the trap of consumerist facetiousness.

After watching Robots yesterday, I walk into some of the shops at the lower levels and set my sights on a couple of items: a belt from Folded and Hung and a shirt with a breast pocket design from People are People. I also go inside Odyssey and make a mental note to take out the D'Sound Greatest Hits CD which I've been drooling over in the past few weeks. I also took note of a CD of jazz takes on some standards, including "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face".

I get to thinking, as I downed my short cup of cold chocolate creme frap at Starbucks, how it is that simple pleasures such as this, even if they sound like brand bingeing, allow me to enjoy my senses and define myself as a person even if only as far as my taste in clothes, food and music is concerned.

I may not yet completely know who I am as a person, but I know who I'm not. I'm not someone who is no one without someone else. The affirmation is underlied by a question: how can I have fun with anyone, if I can't have fun with myself?

Alone can be fun, as long as you do not lose sight of what you want. Self-respect starts with knowing that you can be all by yourself, and still be fine.

Raving about Gateway

On a Sunday afternoon when my best chums were with their boyfriends and Nina was off doing overtime at work, there was just nobody to be had and I decided I wasn't going to bore myself at home.

So off I went to Gateway, with its spanking brand-new floors and wide-open spaces and one-of-a-kind, 5-storey high atrium. The place is very accessible, and is no more than 20 minutes away from my house. It is neither too high-class, like Rockwell, nor is it low-brow and cheap like SM. It's a mall where you can be penniless, but for as long as you do not look the part, Gateway can be a fun place to hang around in. It's not too crowded, but neither is it intimidating.

It's right in the heart of the revived Araneta Center, adjacent to the historic Coliseum, and accessible to both MRT 3 and LRT 2, which is good news for snobs who can't be bothered with buses and jeepneys.

My first enterprise was the clean carpeted cinemas at the 5th level where I take up a ticket for Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events. The crowd was for the most part civilized -- meaning they didn't bug me, were surprisingly quiet and courteous, so unlike the balahura crowd that usually packs the SM malls at any given time. And since the screening times are strictly observed, nobody walks in and out of the cinema while the movie is ongoing.

Which allowed me to really enjoy the movie. And I agree with what Vives says about it. Left hand dipped in a tub of popcorn, right hand pawing my iced tea tumbler once in a while, and seats at both sides empty beside me, I could relish the moviegoing experience without the hassle of jologs with their feet on the back of my seat, dilapidated leather seats and sticky floors.

Last week, mom and I went in to see Birhen ng Manaoag, and let me just state that as a fact and let it go at that, since I intend to elaborate on that experience later on.

Reeling from that horrible movie, I was off to see Million Dollar Baby the following day and I was haunted by its ending. (I loved Hilary Swank in Boys Don't Cry and I definitely loved her again in this one.)

This time though, I was seated next to an old lady who was making comments about every scene in the movie. She bugged me, but since the seats are amply spaced, built so as to be taller than anyone's head and elevated AT shoulder-height of the person in front of you, I could put some distance between me and the old lady who it seemed belonged more at SM than at Gateway. (I realize I sound elitist, but damn it, good manners and ethical behavior are not class-bound virtues!)

Yesterday, I took a trip to Gateway again and watched Robots. This time, the theater was naturally jam-packed with kids, being a family day and all. Seating all alone in the dark, I felt the kid behind me kicking on my seat. But I only had to look up behind me once, and throw the parent seated next to the kid the most menacing glance I could give out and that was it. Nobody bugged me for the rest of the movie, which was really bland and less exciting than Pixar works, and anyway I also agree with what Vives says about it anyway, so why else should I comment on it further.

In SM I would even have to pound on my seat (and once, tell off some high school kids) before those annoying knees would lay off the back of my seat. And I hate that SM's cinemas have no cup holders in their seats. In Gateway they do, and they're big enough to hold even the biggest popcorn tubs. And the armrests can be reclined, conducive for lovey-doveys who want to hug (and smooch) on date flicks. And the sound is efficiently amped, so as not to be too loud. In SM my ears sometimes hurt from the loud audio, THX Dolby Surround shit and all.

Watching Robots yesterday was the first time in a long time that I saw a kid-movie without leaving the cinema feeling pissed at all the noise and junk on the floor. And to think it was Saturday, a day when even month-old babies in strollers are in malls. (Something I still do not accept, by the way).

Moviegoing at Gateway is such a relaxing activity, that while this sounds like a PR piece for Gateway and a possible endorsement to make the Aranetas even richer, I couldn't care less. Moviegoing had become such a dreadful activity for me; I refused to watch movies on the silver screen. But now, I'm not only going, I'm going by myself.

Now if the same level of comfort and privacy can be had at internet cafes...(image: me stabbing to death the jolog using PC to my right...)

a little fictionalizing for safety reasons

Her Royal Highness calls me up early in the morning and warns me that her boyfriend The Boring Good Guy has stumbled upon my blog and tells her that he will be reading my blog in a while. Her Royal Highness tells me to do something about it, since a few of the articles are incriminating, i.e., revealing some things that relate to their now 1-year old relationship.

In deference to such a dear friend I hurry off to the office and mess up the links so the articles do not appear immediately (uhm, well...I did so at least after I snoozed off again for another 30 minutes, anyway, and, uhm... okay, okay, only after she bugs me on YM and threatens to put up a blog about me with fake and indecent stuff in it).

So now I have resolved that in my free time (if ever i get my hands on any) will be devoted to hauling the articles based on real-life people and will be revised accordingly to change the names. But I haven't come up with all names except for Her Royal Highness and The Boring Good Guy she calls her boyfriend. Oh and yeah, there's Rocketman. But for everyone else, I still have no alternicks.

I guess I'll just have to line up all the people I've mentioned in the pages of the Chronicles. That's a better use of time, I guess, than moping about my lovelife.

The One That Got Away

Too many stories have been told about the longing and the regret we associate with the things that slip us by. In relationships, this takes the form of the "what if"s we sometimes toy with inside our heads. There are people out there who talk about the one that got away, that one we never noticed while he slipped through the cracks and out of sight.

The drama often centers around that person, the one who never saw what he had until he'd finally lost it. After all, he's the one who screwed up, the one who couldn't commit, or couldn't say out loud how he felt, or couldn't see himself with the one that got away, or was just too damn proud to put one foot forward. He's the one who has to live with the bad decision he's made. He's the one doomed to reminisce about the one that got away. It makes for such potent writing, doesn't it?

But here's the thing that gets me thinking -- what about the one that got away? How come nobody pays him enough attention? Just because he's out of the eksena doesn't invalidate his presence, right?

He's the one who sent out the signals. He's the one who was there when he wanted to shut out everything and everyone around him. He's the one who was there when he needed to sound off, he was there when he wanted silence and presence at the same time. He was there when he wasn't what he wanted because he was what he had.

The one that got away is the person our friends always tell us would have been our perfect match. And it's just too bad because we do not hookup with lovers so our friends can sleep with them. He's the one we just couldn't see falling in love with, or maybe we did fall in love with him, but always made us feel like something else was lacking, an intangible absence that did not make us want to pursuit the relationship.

But what happens after he leaves? Maybe he doesn't leave in the sense that he hies off to the US or some other place. Maybe he's still around, maybe just around the next corner, but by getting away, we take it to mean that he's just stopped being available, ceased building his world around him as if he was at the center of his life.

In short, the one that got away is the one that moved on. By saying that we do not necessarily mean he's in a better place. He may also be longing to go back, to want to be there,to even hint at amends, or another shot at things.

Maybe he's just lingering, whether what did or did not happen could have been different given even the tiniest change in details, or would the consequence still be the same and he will still be some place else, and not in his bed holding him?

We usually dwell on the one living with the regret because his dillema is the stuff tragedies are made of. But I get to thinking that the one that got away could probably be living in his own box of unresolved questions as well.

Maybe the one that got away is still looking for himself out there. Maybe he's holding out for what life has in store for him. Maybe he is happy, maybe he is not. But just as he wanted what did not want him back, or in the words of Savage Garden, "(gave up his) love to a world that didn't want it anyway", so should we disabuse ourselves of the thought that the one who got away = the one who got off easy.

neither one of us..

..wants to be the first to say, 'hey maybe we can give it a shot.'

but it's too infantile of me to say i have my pride. because you're the difference between liking and loving. if you can have this effect on me after all these years, then certainly there has to be more to the insistence of your eyes than what meets them.

i just want you to hold me. because the truth of the matter is, at the end of the day, i'm weaker than i would suppose. far from expecting you to make sense of all my mess, it's just the thought that you'll be there when this chore becomes too much that makes the task more bearable.

...

No to Electronic Surveillance

rocketman and i are brewing up a joint collaboration together with tune (and hopefully nina) -- a group of advocates doing analysis and policy interventions on ICT issues, and for our first offering we are opposing the anti-terrorism bills. we'd like to have you over on our online petition and i f you feel you agree with us, then please feel free to sign up, and more importatly, to tell everyone you know about the initiative. thanks.

his house

marylou's back in town, and it seems she'll be around for quite some time before heading off to whereever again. and she had a blowout last friday at outback libis, before we headed off to herbert's pad where we passed away midnight as she officially turned 27.

and headed towards that place i hadn't even thought about the things it would make me think about. that is, until i had the bag of lemons in my hand and chips and beer in another that it finally struck me. this is his house.

i used to see him in the media center. i thought he was cute, even without buns. i had expressed an interest in him, and made no small secret about it to friends like che.

in any case, as we walked up the building to the third floor, it wasn't even him i was thinking of. herbert is quick to inform me that he's on an assignment. a fact i quickly ignore.

as we walked in, i set down the bags on the table and excused myself to go to the bathroom. inside, i finally remembered. and in a manner so blatant i just had to laugh to myself. on the shelves was an empty bottle of lavender-scented body gel with a thin cut of masking tape with his name on it, and around his name were cute circles of flowers with itsy-bitsy petals in crude pentel pen ink.

i make my way back to the receiving area where marylou is chatting up sunshine, and i pass off a compliment about how spacious and relaxed the condo unit looks, with the high ceiling and the wide walls. 'it's just the lack of furniture,' sunshine points out but i disagreed. it was really a nice place, even if stuff were all over the place, like two forlorn paintings on either side of the tv where sunshine was watching a movie she is editing.

marylou sat next to me and was updating me and sunshine about the ex, and thomas propped down on the other end of the japanese table where a wooden chess set herbert bought in jordan laid unopened against a bowl made of coconut husk cradled a handful of candies and mint.

herbert, meanwhile busied himself with mixing the ca?haca - Brazilian rhum, with lemons and ice and sugar. He serves us three glasses - for the boys, and the five of us spend the night away chatting up in his house.

i got tipsy after three servings of cachaca, and bid farewell. party pooper that i am, marylou and thomas decided they were not about to let me go home on my own. and so we bid sunshine and herbert goodbye, and down the stairs we went back, and all i kept thinking was -- so that was his house, hisbedroom, his bathroom, his dishes, his table, his mattress, his chair, his tv, his phone, his kitchen sink, his shoe rack, his pillow...

but for whatever reason, all i could think about was how i wanted him instead to bring me down and i would kiss him halfway through the stairs.

and i'm not talking about the absent housemate on an assignment. nor do i refer to marylou's boyfriend.

much much later, in a moment of clarity, i figured: i have too much pride. and i've eaten too much of my own words in the past to ever go back and eat some more. 1999 was a dream away, and i want it to stay that way.

adobo, adobo

we were at the reception dinner for our swedish friends last thursday night, and rocketman was boozing the night away when he got a phone call. the place was at the rooftop of fersal near sulo hotel, and the air was thick with the banter of drunk people, so i wasn't really paying attention to rocketman's conversation. but i distinctly noticed him chiding the person on the other end of the line, at one point using the phrase 'adobo, adobo na naman'.

i didn't really pay much attention to what the heck he was saying until he put the phone down and turned to me and asked me if i knew what 'adobo, adobo' meant. i said no, and he told me it was all about the familiarity of staying with the same thing. or, apparently in gayspeak, the same person.

i figured it out just now. adobo is the easiest pinoy meal to cook, a staple in most households with a need for quick meals and an easy dish. i remember that my mom makes adobo at least twice a week, in fact, almost everytime she cooks, it's always adobo.

rocketman says it's gayspeak for exclusivity, to connnote the boredom and the familiarity of sticking to one.

what really got to me was the subsequent, albeit brief exchange we had about it. 'do you go for exclusivity?' the tipsy, gabby rocketman asked me.

looking down and not wanting to really confront him, i said yes. of course. i want my guy to stay with me. i want loyalty, faithfulness, and monogamy.

'that's what i used to say,' said rocketman. the declaration was jaded, resigned. i ignored it.

but it got me thinking again. enteng always tells me that my standards are too far-fetched, idealistic or worse, intellectualized. is my position therefore unrealistic? is it really impossible to find a committed relationship in which you can expect your partner to stay with you?

for a single gay guy like me in his late 20s, does that mean i have to give up some in order to get some? is my ideal of a faithful, monogamous relationship a non-negotiable position? or, does it mean i have to give that up just so i can get out of the 'meet market'? is it the only way i can stop people from thinking i'm too uptight and conservative? do i have to say 'yeah, cheating is okay' just so i can convince people i'm not a member of the right-wing homo club?

on the other hand it got me to think. are gay guys naturally polygamous just like their straight counterpart? to be gay and committed to an open partnership (or more likely, one in which you look the other way when your partner cheats) -- is that necessarily better than having no one at all?

it looks to me like consenting to that attitude plays into the machismo of straight men who justify their cheating by saying 'boys will be boys'. derisively calling a monogamous relationship between two gay guys as an 'adobo' relationship -- boring and familiar -- seems to imply that one almost expects gay lovers to cheat on each other like it's the most natural thing in the world. that's precisely the mindset that allows for straight men to get away with asserting their hegemony in our social structures and the power relationship between the sexes. i can't believe there are gay people who think that attitude is correct, or at least even tolerable.

and i have to admit i am scared of nothing worse than catching my imaginary lover in bed with someone else. especially if it's with someone i know. because i know i would do everything i could to make sure i never cheat.

so does it mean i'm single because i haven't grounded my expectations of how gay relationships should be? if a relationship between two gay guys necessarily includes tolerating cheating, then does it mean i'm doomed to fight windmills for a very long time until i give up this notion that cheating is okay as long as i know he loves me at the end of the day?

i'm not ready nor am i willing to believe that now. so what if i not only expect, but demand loyalty? so what if what i want looks boring and trite and unexciting? so what if what i want seems so routine and dreadfully familiar? i believe every gay guy i know secretly wants the same thing, but they just let the jaded voice take over to hide the hidden yearning inside.

but my voice is out there. it's in the vibe i give out. it's the vibe that hopefully says i'm good enough. i'm a good catch. don't fuck with me because i'm not your five-minute guy. i can put out and get out in the blink of an eye, but don't ever think that's all what i'm about.

perci once said in a conversation a few months back how he'd never tolerate it if his boyfriend were to cheat on him. and then he quickly adds how it would be okay if he cheated, just as long as he isn't found. so is that how it goes for all other gay guys as well? i am yet to meet any gay guy in a stable, committed long-term relationship, so any proof to the contrary would be nice.

as i've said before, i think my natural dispensation against infidelity is borne out of the fact that my own dad used to cheat on my mom a lot. i don't want my man doing the same thing to me. i know what it's like to wait for someone who's not coming back because he's found someone else. it's not a wall i consciously set up, but it's just there.

if a guy can't climb over that wall, that barier, meet that standard -- keep his eyes away from wandering and his pants from dropping in front of someone else -- then that's just too bad. he wouldn't know what he'll be missing with me.