Surviving Down Under

June 18, 2008

Twelve years ago, when I was sixteen, I went away to Queensland University of Technology in Brisbane in order to study that unstable art or science, whichever it is, that goes by the name of International Development Management (IDM).

IDM.I liked the sound of it. It felt roughly formed and accessible, tactile and breathing. It opened doors in the corporeal world that were logical, quirky, arcane, and sometimes whimsical. Sex and economics lay at the bottom of it, and also the collapsing edge of elaborate amorality. It seemed to me that IDM is a kind of poetry, a way of guessing at the links between pragmatic and reaction, and furthermore, no one else except my family and closest friends knew that I was doing it. The rest thought that I was in Rouchard, France tending to the winery and the vineyards on weekends while keeping up academically in a ‘provincial’ university.

I come from a family of farmers in Davao City. My father is a retired neurologist that in his later life went full time plowing the ricefields, growing bangus fries and feeding them with algae and planktons. Mum is an anaesthesiologist who ran her own Bali-inspired wellness center while trading copra in some of her time. Growing up, my siblings and I were taught to literally plow the field not with a tractor or any machine but with a carabao. On summers while our classmates were traveling or just plainly lingering around the game arcade, my brother and I had to earn our keep for the coming school year. At one point, I felt a grave injustice was being committed against my trivial interests. All came reasonably, when I lived alone in Brisbane to study. My parents, well my Dad, was teaching us the value of painstaking labor and the pleasure of a hard-earned keep.

I lived alone for the first time in Brisbane at sixteen in a cramped apartment on a short dark street near the main campus. It was a frightening but joyous experiment. I learned how it was possible to stretch a small sum of money, over the exigencies of rent, food, clothes, books, and movies. On a daily basis, I survived on a Aus$ 30.00 budget. Each meal cost me 8.00$, and it consisted usually of a platter of pasta or some Vietnamese Pho, and of course a can of root beer. McDonald’s had a value meal that cost 5.00$, and it consisted of a large fries, a large burger and a large Coke. Ronald McDonald became my bestfriend, hence.

On my way home from school, I usually took a long walk passing through Queen Street Mall. Just right across the Moddle Café was my favorite spot. I would sit there for an hour or two, with a BigGulp from Cole’s for a brainfreeze and get drowned in the flux of dizzying individuals that passed me by. I’d get entertained with a whole bunch of eccentric individuals that hawked the mall. There were emo and gothic freaks in visually bewildering outfits, lesbian Koreans kissing publicly (a lot of them!) and the artsy-fartsy indies which lured you to toss in a dollar for a foolish street magic. At this period of my life I also found myself several afternoons a week seated in dark boxlike theaters where I drank in the dappled images and subtitles and nuanced exhortations of foreign-film makers, always, afterward, re-entering the clean sun-specked streets of Brisbane full of cheerful skepticism and surprise at where destiny had thus far delivered me.

I took up cycling and then fencing, gave up red meat, smoked small amounts of hash with a wide spectrum of friends, a few of whom I am still in touch with, and once or twice became dismayingly, bone-shakingly drunk on cheap wine. I was cheerful more often than I was sad, and was prideful about my discovery that happiness was a kind of by-product of existence and not an end in itself. Wearing flip-flops, I sat in various Brisbane coffee shops talking and being talked at and laying to rest such issues as the evils of imperialism, the menace of nuclear arms, the weight of patriarchy and the old uncharitable persistence of spiritual belief. I learned, sitting cross-legged on my bed, to play a few chords on a guitar and to sing mournfully to myself, relishing this self-image above all others. And at the end of my course, a few weeks after my twentieth birthday, I was awarded a bachelor’s degree on IDM.

I survived it all.

Francis

Fuckwittage!

June 15, 2008

11:57 PM

Very bad day. I went ‘round Jake’s earlier in zomboid state. He and Mart were going on and on saying I had to get back on some kind of horse and started – frankly insultingly – surfing through the Guys4Men website.

Indignantly, I didn’t want to look at guys4men. Although, admittedly I told Jake once that PGMA should set up a government dating agency for the Singletons. He reminded me of that,errrr…, ‘brilliant’ idea and I thought that political integrity was important.

While they went on to surf through some g4m member’s profile, I thought some of them were outrageous. Mart was reading out loud, shoving a large piece of a leftover Krispy Kreme donut into his mouth. ‘ “Genuine tall attractive male 36, no chubs please, good sense of humour, would like to meet, civilized, matured, stable for discreet uninhibited no-commitment relationship. “ who do they think they are, these creeps?”

I sniggered that these guys should have a sense of humour to be too mean to fork out enough to say in genuine words that ‘No Chubs please’. G4M turned out to be very entertaining. You can actually read the members’ profiles advertising themselves like contestants on Blind Date.

One profile says, ‘I’m handsome, I’m very passionate. I’m a gymbuff and I’m looking for a very special guy. He’ll take pleasure in having a good body.’ The nerve. And there wasn’t any face picture, all self-taken shots of his groin and chiseled torso. Later, I learned that in g4m lingo, they’re called ‘hipon’. Savor the body, and treat the head like trash. Harsh.

Another profile was, ‘Hi, I’m WildDad. I’m tall, I’m Makati-bred with black hair, dark eyes, long black lashes and a lean, wild body….”’ Mart read out in a stupid voice. They were cajoling me to message him. And I asked why. Jake went all coy then. Turned out whole Singleton Depression weekend thing had catapulted him into responding one of the g4m messages. Mart and I had accusing stares at Jake. And Jake was defensively telling us that he’s not going out with any of the guys. He was more of convincing himself than us.

I got back home to hear my celfone’s message tone. From an unlisted number. ‘Hello, Francis, this is WildDad…’

My bloody friends must have given my g4m profile and number. I was horrified by the sense of danger implied by a total stranger having my phone number, I did not respond but merely read his second message that said he will be at Starbucks 6750 Ayala tomorrow night.

Then immediately I called Jake and gave him bollocking. He said we’d all go and meet WildDad. And they said, I should go out and date. They were convincing me that it wouldn’t hurt to be wasted just a bit. They’ve known me to be the Mr. Decency and all that. So plan is, we are all going tomorrow night. Ho hum. Maybe Jake and Mart are right. I have just to move on, not keep thinking Mark. Worry about lashes, though. How long exactly? Fantasies of WildDad’s lean, wild, devil body slightly spoilt by image of WildDad blinking under the weight of lengthy lashes like Walt Disney Bambi.

I got to Starbucks with Jake and Mart in tow to sit at other table and keep eye on self. No sign of WildDad. Only man on own was horrible old creep in plaid shirt and sunglasses , who kept staring at me. Where was WildDad? I gave the creep filthy look. Eventually, the creep was staring so much and decided to move. I started to get up then nearly jumped out of skin. The creep was holding up a red rose. I stared at him aghast as he removed his ridiculous pair of sunglasses, smirking, to reveal a Barbara Cartland-like pair of false eyelashes. The creep was WildDad. I rushed out in horror followed by Jake and Mart, collapsing in giggles.

We were utter bitches. Mean. But hey, that was false advertisement from WildDad. And besides, I wasn’t really up for meeting up. My friends made me to meet WildDad. If it were me, I would’ve lifted weights instead of dating. We walked back to Jake’s condominium. Ordered a very sinful pizza and spent Saturday night watching the complete second season of Prisonbreak.

Francis

Loonie's (rom)Antics

“DEAR FRANCIS,” Marvin had written. “Mahal kita. Mahal kita. I love you. Di ko alam kung ano ang sasabihin sa’yo o kung bakit ko ito sinasabi sa’yo, pero ang alam ko I have to tell you this. Something is making me. Mahal kita Francis. Di ako sira-ulo, pero di kita masisisi if you think I am. I loved you the minute I saw you coming up the oval as you ran around. Nalunod ako sa’yong ngiti, when you looked back at me with those big dewy eyes. I loved the way you stood still. Iniisip ko yun araw-araw, a hundred times, lagi ko yun naiisip, exactly how your hands would feel like pressing against my back and how it would be holding you, ang iyong malaman na katawan. I can’t seem to think of anything outside that minute when we were standing together by your front door when Dennis and I visited you. I just love you. I love you plain and simple. I love you.”

That was a letter I got from Marvin. Well, he was a fool. He was a nut case, tetched in the head – bonkers, balmy. Not because he’d gone silly with love – love was unaccountable, he knew that much just from looking around, just from being alive. No, he was a loony because he’d gone and written it and slipped the letter into my gym bag. He knew that I was committed with someone and he sent me a letter full of garbage.

What in sweet Jesus’ name had come over him. He was a mature man, 34 years old, for God’s sake, reasonably steady in his habits, reasonably normal. Well, except for those three previous relationships, that indissoluble number three. And except for the offbeat hours he kept, and his somewhat eccentric job.

Anyway, it was too late. He’d done something dark and dangerous, writing a letter like that. He’d committed a rash act he hoped he’d never have to account for, but knew he would. Jesus. Buying that stationery and then filling it up with his blustering frenzy, letting it have its way, then actually sealing it, for God’s sake, his tongue traveling along its glued edges. He recalls the gummy taste now with a fresh wave of sorrow, and how he had afterward slipped it – irretrievable – into my gym bag. Farewell. So be it. Godspeed. Launched like a message in a bottle. Like a bomb.

Was I overreacting to Marvin’s romANTICs? Oh yeah. I was. Because Dennis, his boyfriend, WAS my bestfriend. Francis

"It's Complicated"

June 6, 2008

10:47 PM

Urgh! I was in my Nike Yoga sweatsuit two freaking days ago when i stormed out of a confrontation with an ex boyfriend. It was like walking naked towards the carpark of my Guru Indira's ashram and challenging all the cosmic energies that the ashram houses since the Beckhams' frustrating teleportation to the land of the Cruises. I was shaming my inner covenant to find order in the middle of chaos. Manong Rudy, my family's driver was nowhere to be found! And ex-bf was tailing in no more than 18 counts of single-double-double-single grapevine aero steps. I was hopeless for a refuge. And then the bulb lit, and i was saved (in countless times) by my dependable knight named Ronald McDonald.

Anyway, the guru teaches me to be in control of all the energies surrounding my being. And that includes, rancor, anger,bliss,indifference and orgasm (believe me)! But all these fail to fruition when there's just so much little voices hovering me that speak of aghast and hopelessness to make my ex-bf go away. Now, i couldn't even get to mention his freakin' name. Enter my BFF Ronald McDonald, and it only takes three Hash Browns and a Float to regain my serenity. Hehehehe.

Calmly, i began to think of True Religion jeans and Topman. A new pair of Cole canvasses was disturbing guru's teaching of unworldly possession. And i just realised that worldly possessions are essential for my well-being. Shameless 'me'. I am high maintenance. I could hear the sermon during my bible prayer meeting that these things can willingly join me in my closet which is called casket when i die. And i took a big gulp of my Float, and brain frrrreeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzeeee!

Now back to serenity. Have you ever experienced that there's so much events happening all at the same time and these events are from your past and are of similar descriptions?

Case 1- Carl, after like 4 months of not talking, came out of the blue and wants me back in his life. He became more persistent when i told him that his officemate Bryan2 is 'courting' me and attached with the courtship are the sleazy indecent proposals. And as i was writing this, Bryan2 just called and asked me casually, if we could have sex later. Talking of dogs! Carl was fuming mad of Bryan2, and was asking me to choose between him and Bryan2. Carl hatched a plan involving me. That in the coming week, i will visit Sitel in Eastwood (that's where they both work), and meet them both. Carl was planning that. And i didn't understand what was that for. As of this minute, Carl and I aren't talking again. He was mad when i didn't watch Sex and the City with him. And i chose to get freaky with Mark. Carl's last words were and i qoute, '....enjoy,if ur plans is 2 make me jealous, u won.cge nyt..'

Case 2- Dave, after like 7 months of not seeing each other, caught up with me in a mall. I was buying Strepsils, and surprise.. when i turned , he was standing just a step from me. I was having sore throat and colds, and it was the last situation i would've wanted him to see me. Anyway, we exchanged quick hellos and i was telling i was running for some errands at the groceries. Dave and I WERE 'bedmates'. He's the good guy and I was the bad guy during our 2 days relationship. I chickened out, and said that it was better for us to remain 'bedmates' instead of having a real deal commitment laden relationship. And guess what he texted right after the meeting, to qoute him '...Srap p rin u. Nahorny 2loy aq knina. Hehe. Mz q na ung pgf**k sau..' The nerve.

Case 3- After that accidental meeting with Dave, i went to the groceries, and guess who i saw. Jerry and Mike (gay couple) and their 6 year old kid. Wait. Stop. No one bore the child. They adopted him. Anyway, it was one of the most awkward moments in my life history. But not because i was having colds, but because i dated these two guys last year behind each other's back. I met them during a business conference last year. I didn't know at that time that they were a couple. I dated Jerry. And i dated Mike. And in one of the weird twist of events, i somehow found out that they were almost splitting up everything literally because of me. Mike accused Jerry of infidelity. And Jerry didn't know that Mike was infidel also. And both of them accused me of infidelity. It was a dizzying merry go round. It's not that i am washing my hands clean, but i did not know that they were a couple. What i knew was, i did like both of them, and was figuring should i decide to get in a relationship, who between Jerry and Mike was 'the One.' What happened in the grocery? We all pretended we didn't know each other. Period.

Case 4- At the end of that single day, i went like what was that? I was like the devil caught in the deep blue sea. Wrong. Caught inside a fishnet in a deep dark blue sea. Rather. And then i got a message from Mark, the text was 'Muah.' And i replied, 'Baby, muah one googlelion times.' If there's a true description of that friendster status, “it's complicated”, that's about me and Mark. We both come from previous relationships that brought much pain. And we're both so testing the waters. We had long talks, figuring out what we are to each other. And it does not matter at the moment, if we're officially a couple or not. Essentially, it is the fact that we like each other, enjoy each other, and there's the willingness and hope that soon, we both will take the leap and enter into a commitment. But nothing is different from how we are to the traditional couples. Jam, our common friend, was telling us that we're a bunch of weirdos. There's actually much truth in that. But i have stopped defining what i am to Mark and Mark is to me. It is my first time to be in this set-up. I guess it's more than testing the waters.

Whew! Now i laugh as i remember my best friend Jacque's description of our tandem. She said that she's the complicated between us and i am the high lifestyle maintenance. Hahaha. But it looks like, i am both of that now. And she's changed spec from being complicated to being a high maintenance. Oh well, is that a bad thing? I've been asking myself. And i can't find the answer for now. I probably should see a shrink. And not Guru Indira nor Ronald McDonald. Till then. I'm off to the ashram, love guru might be just somewhere in the kitchen. Bye. Yep, the shrink. Not the love guru. Oh, i need another brain freeze. Whatever.

Love Smorgasbord

May 19, 2008

Certainly, things do happen and don't happen for reasons. I'm beginning to question my capacity to be in a relationship. For this year (in less than five months alone),

i almost reconciled with an ex boyfriend Jay in January, and i realised that there's nothing good that my relationship with him will bring.. why? because i'm the third party, the 'kabit', the 'wrecker' of what Jay calls a 'wrecked and wretched' union... i deserved better than that, and i quit.

after months of Carl's pursuit, i finally said Yes to him in February... we were twosome coosome, i was willing to finally give the relationship a shot, it was legitimate, our friends knew of our union, we were constantly together, unmindful of the world around us.. around gateway, within starbucks... we were carefree... and then the love poison hit me again! i said to him, it was better for us to forget each other....

a couple of days after my break up with Carl, his officemate Bryan2, in the guise of being a 'friend' with a shoulder for me to cry on, grabbed my face and tried to kiss me.. and i asked him what was that all about. And he said, that was what he has been feeling towards me all this time.... Bryan2 was too fast for me to handle... he wanted sex asap, like probably he would asked for his food in a restaurant.. i felt belittled..

and then Bryan1 came along, i admit, i did hurt him terribly... up until now he knows that i still am sorry for raising his expectation that we would end up together as couple... he was sincere.. i felt how much he loved me... i felt how pained he was when i said NO.. our friends got involved in the mess that i created... his 'tropa' was manhunting me...they were freakingly mad at me for hurting Bryan1... i did not know it until after the incident, that Bryan1 was rushed to the hospital because he had severe asthma attack triggered by my selfish act... but all's well that ends well... Bryan1 and I are such good friends na.. he has moved on and he has found someone that can give him the love and affection i couldn't give.... i have high respects for him and Carlo... i genuinely wish them lifelong love and togetherness....

A friend Jam, arranged a meet up between me and his good friend Mark. We liked each other. But there were so many unsaid things between us. I wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was going through... but he was holding back... weird it was, we couldn't get ourselves to say what we wanted to say to each other... and then pffft! He was gone. Mark disappeared. I was hurt. I was expecting. I was hoping. I was loving him.

It all gets better in time as they say.. but i couldn't wait a bit longer for pain to go away... And to help me heal, Marvin, my co-triathlete was pursuing me and another mistake, i said Yes to Marvin. He was all that is good and beautiful. The most high profile boyfriend yet. He brought me to fancy places. With him my love came with a price tag. On a lazy weekend in BGC, snapped from nowhere, he gifted me a Philip Stein watch. This is just one of the affluent ways Marvin made sure I'd find joy in. He was too perfect for me. Too scary. He introduced me to his whole family at Tierra Pura. He was exultant. He kept on saying, that each day i never fail to sweep his feet away. But you can never teach a heart to love another, when that heart is bleeding for a lovelost with some other. I broke up with Marvin. Returned all the good stuff he bought for me, and made sure these were all boxed and properly sent. Marvin was devastated. He didn't work for the whole week. I packed my bags and went home to Davao for the weekend to clear my thoughts. He followed in Davao the following day. We had another one of those long talks that end futile. I was steadfast that we cannot be together anymore. He was humbling. He was trying and doing all he could muster to win me back... Up until now, he hasn't changed.

Meanwhile, i was reconnecting with Mark. After a month of incommunicado, we bumped onto each other in a 'bar' in Manila. I had a chance to tell him how hurt i was. Again he wasn't talking much. He has always been like that. And i am never a seer. I turned my back. Walked away from him. And never looked back. I got a message from him right after that incident. He apologised for the wrongdoing and for the hurt he caused me. I was trying to be pragmatic about it. And warned him to be careful of what he would tell me. He took a step back. I guess he was thinking. And he said he regretted that he let me pass him by. He was sorry for throwing my love away. But it is so difficult to pretend that i don't want him again. He's back. We're not rushing things. We're taking it again, one step at a time. I don't know yet. I'm fearful that he would hurt me again. I'm torn between staying single muna and giving Mark another chance.

Some of the guys i mentioned above have online accounts. And i know they'd probably read this. What's my purpose? I never had the chance to say what i wanted to say to them. It was totally a rollercoaster ride. For me. For him. For them. But i never regretted having gone through those moments with them. They may have regretted knowing me, i do not know that. But then again, things happen and don't happen for reasons.

Francis

No More Peanut Butter

She’s at it again! For the nth time, she slithered herself back into the arms of a guy who’s a total dumbass in a freakingly complicated set-up (read: married guy). Anyway, my 8 hr sleep was cut short last night, because my phone was blasting, with a realtune ringtone HELP! By John Farnham. I knew, that my bestfriend was at the other end of the line, screaming incredulities and sobbing like a gilded butterfly. She’s at it AGAIN!

At the unholiest hour of 1:26AM, I was fighting temptation to doze off and head back to slumberlandia while struggling to listen to her most vicious litanies. Of course, as the ever dependable BFF, I had to be with her. I just let her. And when she’s come around, she’d ask almost always for my piece of advice. And I said,

“Isn’t everything we do in life, a way for us to be loved? Isn’t it a powerful line, ter? And we never really thought about it. But really, isn’t it true? Gus is hurting you now, like he did in the past. Bob and David similarly brought you pain many years ago too. You were hurt because you knew they were married, and yet you continued to having a purportedly legit affair with them. You held on, because that’s the way for you to be loved. It becomes a pattern now, huh? Precisely because, you found comfort in the aching yet familiar set-ups. The danger of uncertainties it brings with makes you feel invincible, until you no longer can differentiate pain from pleasure. You are scared to seek a more tangible relationship. Say, a single decent guy. Is it because you don’t know how and what it will be? And so you settle for a little less like love. You sulk and wait. And waiting can be mean. You continue to hurt. But then, you don’t know anymore what pain and joy are all about. Because, sad truth is you are already used to hurting yourself. That is camouflages your kindred spirit. You don’t care anymore if you die, ter, because you’re dead already. Your heart is cold. That’s why you keep coming back to him. You’re not free. You need this pain to feel alive. It’s pathetic.”

Dead silence. She was holding her breath, trying to find the right words to say. But wisdom isn’t friendly to a disheveled soul at past 1AM. I was surprised too, in my own words. The phone clicked, no words were spoken from her. I know my BFF. And when she’s at it again, I’d make sure coffee comes handy on my bedside table.

Wild Revelry Is So last Year

If all goes according to plan, the shiny ball will drop at midnight on New Year’s Eve in Makati Countdown to 2008, to the tooting of horns and the wild screams of the jubilant throng. As usual I’ll be there.

By “there” I mean sitting on my couch in front of the television set, wondering how long can they keep this gig going and thanking my lucky stars that I am miles clear of the blast zone, enjoying another party-free New Year’s Eve.

As Jan. 1 ripples across the country, from Manila to Davao, the masses will be singing “Auld Lang Syne” in full-throated chorus, fireworks will burst over many cities (except at my hometown Davao City), and revelers everywhere will experience a mindless surge of optimism as awful old 2007 teeters off the stage and 2008 — the new, improved model — steps forward to a burst of applause.

I will probably crack open a cold Coke Light, reflect on the many squandered opportunities of the past 12 months and then shuffle off to bed about an hour later than usual. Fabulous 2008 can get under way fine without me.

When I first moved to Makati nearly several months ago, it was different. My friends and I made the New Year’s Eve rounds, made a little noise and crawled back home in the early morning hours with the sense of a job well done. The hangovers were stupendous, but, like combat veterans, we wore them as badges of honor.

All across the city there was a definite sense of esprit de corps. We felt it while rolling underneath The Fort, just about the time that the big outdoor party on street level was breaking up. In wobbly groups of four or five the die-hards who had been standing for 12 hours and drinking for 8 moved zombielike toward the open doors of the party scene.

They presented an alarming sight. Looking like the remnants of a defeated army they propped one another up, rattled their noisemakers feebly on battered cardboard horns and turned disturbing shades of pale as the marathon of self-abuse caught up with them.

As the troop train rattled on, a dim thought would penetrate my cortex: “What they look like to me, I look like to them.” New Year’s resolution No. 1: Never do this again.
Time’s magic healing properties would negate this resolution, along with all the others. When late December rolled around, the invitations would arrive, we would accept, and the infernal cycle would resume.

The Guardian of London recently asked readers to submit their worst New Year’s Eve experiences. Their stories serve as a stark reminder of the misery that enforced jollity can bring.
One writer recalled the New Year’s Eve on which he went to relieve himself against some bushes bordering an expensive home in Sydney, Australia. Spying a large swimming pool on the grounds, he stripped down to his boxer shorts, leapt the hedge and took a dive. The home belonged to the prime minister, and a party was in progress, monitored closely by burly security men. After spending the night in jail, our hero woke up with a pounding head and nothing to wear on his three-hour walk home but a paper jumpsuit issued by the authorities.

The premise behind celebrating the New Year falters as the years go by. In your 20s, a turning calendar page brings excitement. The future looks bright, probably because there’s a lot of it left. As the decades pass, the years seem more menacing. Fleeter. And strange too. Think of it: 2008. In my youth dates like that turned up only in science-fiction novels. In 2008 there would be colonies on Mars and everyone would communicate through mental telepathy. It was not so much an actual date as a signpost indicating the distant future.

And now it’s here. This is disturbing especially to those of born in mid-century, good thing I fall short to that. It is not an occasion to cheer. One examines it thoughtfully, as Hamlet does Yorick’s skull. Preferably without having drunk four beers, two margaritas, a sidecar and a half-bottle of Spanish sparkling wine.

That’s another thing. The hangovers only get worse. Kingsley Amis once differentiated between the physical hangover (the hangover of youth) and the metaphysical hangover (the hangover of middle age and beyond). The second is far worse, Mr. Amis wrote, an “ineffable compound of depression, sadness (these two are not the same), anxiety, self-hatred, sense of failure and fear for the future.” That’s the smiling face of the new year for the heedless partygoer of a certain age.

So. As 2007 draws to a close, invitations arrive. Like a summons to jury duty, I regard them with dread. And then I regret. Others will have to carry the torch of joy forward into the new year, illuminating the future for those with the strength to face it.

Bless them. I will be there, in spirit, with the hardy souls who sign up for the annual Sunday Midnight Run, a four-mile race around Makati City. I will dine, in absentia, with the mild ones who pay PhP5,000 for New Year’s Eve at Cibo (“three-course dinner with choice of entree”) in Greenbelt. But physically, as the midnight hour strikes, I will be at home.

With luck, the evening should go something like this:

7 p.m. Eat dinner.
7:30 p.m. Wash dishes.
8 p.m. Look for reruns of midnight madness in Sydney, Paris and London.
9 p.m. Tune in to Makati Countdown to 2008 coverage, deviating now and then to see if ABS-CBN is doing a Top 100 countdown of the year’s hottest celebrity moments.
11 p.m. Struggle against growing torpor.
Midnight Watch ball drop. Sigh.
12:10 a.m. Retire.

I do have my New Year’s resolution ready to go however: No party in 2008.

The Politics of Assassination

Here's my personal comment on the assassination of Benazir Bhutto last December 27, 2007.

The politics of assassination is an apparently, if temporarilly, effective one:

Colosio in Mexico

Rajiv Ghandi in India

Indira Ghandi in India

Mohatma Ghandi in India

Zia al Huq in Pakistan

Anwar Sadat in Egypt

John and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King

In our own country: Ninoy Aquino

Now Benazir Bhutto

The point is that these political assassinations irrevocably change the landscape of a country’s political situation, and are hence an “effective” tool of political warfare, however heinous.

The recovery from trauma is almost always lengthy, the rebounding of political effectiveness of the affected party, movement or entity is usually tremendously and negatively impacted, and the message is clear to would be reformers, challengers, or overly autocratic hegenomists.

Was Bhutto the savior of Pakistan…? I doubt it…flawed, corrupt, ego driven….no real democrat, and yet the shock waves of the act of overt assassination are enormous.

Bhutto's death is a tragedy with numerous historical antecedents. How the reaction shakes out is the determinant issue. Certainly Nawiz Sharif regaining power would be a pathetic result (more corruption, ineffectual governance, status quo.) So the question remains, can this political party (sorry,i forgot the name) of Bhutto take this tragedy and turn it into genuine opportunity.

I hope so.

Becoming Bennet

26 September 2007

I was reading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and i deliberately bookmarked the page where Mr. Darcy in all of his courage told Ms. Bennet this line, "In vain have i struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

It made me squirm because that's how powerful love can be. And inspite of the many relationships i've had, i am still not jaded. I still have compassion for my poor heart!

I snapped back to reality. And in truth, i am Ms. Bennett. And i have a Mr. Darcy in my life now. I was just told by Dave a few minutes ago (which by the way inspired me to write this), how i have such a great impact in his life. He recounted the first time we met, and from then on, how his affection towards me has grown much. And excuse my countenance, but i already knew how he feels about me. And i dread for the day that he should come forth and express how he feels, for i certainly do not have an answer.

And so he did. He's one of the kindest souls i ever met. And a guy like him only deserves a return of agreeable civility, much hopes on mutual affection.

But i can't. I try to hold on to the possibility, but my feelings are otherwise.

Thankful, yes I am. But until i resolve my very own undertakings with myself, only then i will consider saying "In turn, i hoped for your love and I will make you the most agreeable and happy man."

Francis' Wheel, Uuurgghh!

I was nursing a failed relationship with Carl. A day after, love knocked on my doorstep. Dave is an antithesis of the lovers i've had. He is different. Charmingly different. In a way, that his honesty would definitely smack me at my face. He's quiet. But his eyes would speak of so much passion. Finally, there's someone who'd just do it. No dramas. No pretensions. No promises.

But i don't know. I want to refuse him.

But part of me says, he's like a needle in a haystock. And i may never find someone like him.No words are coming out from me. I just want to learn and not know. To begin with, i think i need to give myself a break. And so my status still says single.

Sweet Anxiety

29 September 2007

1:33 AM

Is there a sweeter way to say "I don't love you"?

Is there a guarantee that i will not regret letting you go?

And when i'm ready, will you still be there?

- sleepless at an unholy hour, talking to myself and finding a little piece of heaven, anxiously. I just hurt Dave. We went for a jog early morning, had breakfast at McDonald's, and said nothing when he asked me if i do love him. I saw his eyes. Pained. He continues loving me each day, unselfishly. Sincerely. Even if he knew it's only friendship i can give. Nothing more.

Twisted Singleton

i've been asked many times over if i'm single.. they asked why? and i said why? it's a vicious funny cycle.. the smug vs. the singletons, the jaded vs. the hopefuls, the romantics vs. the hysterics, the invincible vs. the lovefools...

if i were to ask to have a good lovelife instead, what is there left to remind me that i am not absolute... Having it all means forgetting that i am human..

so i'm finding joy in having through the day with no one to call my own.. appreciating my singleness and hoping that fate will be kind to me...

My Biggest Organ....Skin!

L'Oreal isobacter and L'Oreal UV Perfect -- these products really work for me, especially that i worship the sun and the beach like tomorrow's not gon' come… I luuuuurrrrvvvvv my skin… it’s sun-kissed!

Ain't Ready to Make Nice

18 June 2007

11:03 AM

a wonderful guy just came into my life now.. it’s as if GOD heard my little sobs at night because I was hurting from the break up with J1 and GOD couldn’t sleep… then came along J2 who’s calling me sweetie like J1…J2 asked me couple of days ago if he stands a chance to be my bf… and I just couldn’t give him a straight answer… i really don't know... now i'm in davao for the weekend, and J2 flew in to see me.. how can you not love a guy like that… I must say, J2 has been very very consistent in the whole 2 weeks of courtship…

now let’s do a bit of profiling for J2:

1. he’s 39 years old (my fetish..hehehe) -- BIG CHECK

2. he’s financially stable, secured, and could definitely pay for my luxury which is to travel abroad.. we talked about this, and he plans to bring me to bangkok and batanes for starters) --BIG BIG CHECK

3. he’s sweet (would spend for mobile calls every hour to call me...makes sure that I’m still breathing and that my heart is not abducted by an extra-terrestrial he calls the embassy guy (he’s another guy who’d drive 170km/hr just to get freaky with me, well…it’s another story!) -BIG CHECK

4. Philanthropist (what would you call a guy who showered me with chocolates, a chili glass accessory, and a PUG during our very first date? The date was all expense paid, tax included! ---BIG BIG CHECK

5. single (absolutely single… not hitched… been a bachelor for three years) --BIG BIG CHECK

6. intelligent (he’d talked to me for hours and hours about anything from the lineage of the making of a national artist to determining the trajectory points of an X627*Hft variable, and the only word I say is ‘yeah’ apart from 'really?' it is not because i'm dumb or playing it.. but too much of the talkies seems like murmurs or buzzes, that you don't understand a thing... oooopppsss sorry J2)-- small check

7. a certified CAPRICORN! ---big problem, I’m a Leo and.... Leo + Capricorn = BEASTFIGHT... I should know.. believe me.. R (my ex years ago) was a capricorn and i almost ended chemically imbalanced!

And so help me GOD.

What’s my problem? He definitely is a prized catch for a serious relationship. Honesty can be such a cruel word really. I don’t think I’m ready to get into a relationship. And my dilemma now is, how to tell him that. The longer I delay the bad news, the greater his expenses to woo me! He’s getting into a bad investment in me… If he reads this, I’ll HAVE to tell him what i truly when we go out for dinner tonight…. be right back...

How to Quit a Sleazy Round and About!

2 July 2007

6:03 PM

there's that bit of hope that something beautiful will come out of the temporary tryst... that hope of making it permanent that goes beyond the flesh... but actually that hope is an attempt to justify the acts.. that it is the gameplan.. shared not by me alone but most probably an umpteenth of this generation... and once i'm doused with cold water, it seeps in me gradually that it was a wasted sleazy f--ktrip that reduced my being to a numb void machine that does not care for the self... and honestly, i know it does not feel right...

it's a vicious cycle.. i make a covenant to myself never again.. until i'm brought back to events that make me..that's why i've quit the dating scene... it feels so right to find deliverance... and that sweet hope to find The One...So upness for my culinary class instead!

I Don't Cry

28 June 2007

2:04 PM

So what would you say to me, If you could talk to me. You could ask anything and I wouldn't lie. But if you're okay with this, damaging the awkwardness between us, then i guess i will have to play it safe and keep it inside. I will not cry, even if i ache for you in the longest 4 weeks of my life.

While i'm in the middle of writing the concept note and designing the logframe for a technical proposal for UN, you still invade my consciousness. That's totally way so bending! You disempower me when i feel invincible.

Grey is Not!

25 June 2007

1:03 AM

ambiguous because most often than not we refuse to listen and just see what is and isn't.. i guess, in this life it has got to be either black or white... not grey or somethin' in between.. we'd know if there's something wrong..because at the end of the day, we only have ourselves.. and we ask is this what we really want? are we at peace with our being?

guess i'm just kind of thinking out loud.. but i'm not saying i'm right..

keep frosty!

Breaking the Camel's Back and Ppfffttt!

23 June 2007

10:53 PM

you need something that will break the camel's back.. but sometimes, it's not enough..

when i started going out with this guy i met in g4m, i knew from the start that he's living in with a guy for close to ten years.. he was honest enough to tell me that..he gave me a choice.. and i chose to continue and nurture a relationship with him...

told myself, i can handle this.. but he showed me kindness and love, and what can i do, but love him as well.. yeah.. yeah... sex was great, his company was exciting.. i had butterflies in the stomach weeknights because i'd see him..but i knew this can't be forever.. i just couldn't break up with him and i know i should have.. i wanted to hate him, but couldn't.. he was THE ONE, except that..

being a kabit is not at all easy, that's moot and academic.. loving him, i realised, wasn't about choices because i have turned deaf and mute to my being.. loving him was a DECISION..

we mutually agreed to end our relationship almost 3 weeks ago... i cried an oceanful... thought love will always find a way.. but a big slap on my face... it's not happening..

i'm single now.. and truly i learned so much from that experience.. through the darkest nights, in my solitary, i think of him, cry myself to sleep, shut the world out.. but i know in many small ways.. not now but perhaps tomorrow or in years, i'd find my way back into love..

but what keeps me holding on is SELF RESPECT...

"deliver me out of my sadness, deliver me from all of the madness, deliver me courage and guide me, deliver me strength from inside me, all of my life i've wish to find someone like you... but it just couldn't..."

Stardust

10 June 2007

11:03 AM

it's overwhelming to love like an ocean size... but when reality sets in... and when you start looking at real and what's not... you gotta break the camel's back and start living for yourself.... yeah.. yeah.. easier said than done, but you hefta get up and start from somewhere...

here's blowing myself on the mirror stardust to keep me thinking and loving MEself... :)

Anguish Twenty-ish 2

09 June 2007

10:01 AM

when you're in your early 20's don't look for love.. you have the next 7 years to plow and play the field... but when you reach late 20's, you start to feel hitting the rock bottom... and you just can't sit and wait for divine intervention to bless you with sonofabitch bf to make your life as they say more colorful...

i think, and i may be wrong... you gotta do what you gotta do... make it happen.. don't swell up your bottoms and whine...

i'm not saying that you hefta be out there and start checking all the possible avenues for finding him... what i'm saying is you have to start it within yourself... love yourself... indulge... be stylish... get good skin... be healthy... invest in books... see the world... nurture family and friends.... sing your heart out with Phil Collins' You Can't Hurry Love... and go work it out...

and probably... even with the slightest possibility of realising that you don't need a bf in the first place...

Anguish Twenty-ish

08 June 2007

8:41 PM

three years ago, i was 25, that's when i turned 360 degrees.. what broke the camel's back was when my 5 year relationship ended... back then the only thing which mattered to me most was keeping the helluva of a relationship which to begin with wasn't right.. i didn't focus on work, i was what you call very domesticated... i didn't put into good use my college degree... but prior to that i was enjoying every minute of the rat race.. loved it that i was globetrotting and enjoying the dog-eat-dog world of corporate work... until i met him, and everything turned upside down..

i didn't care much for my ambition, what i wanted to do then was a caring motherfucker desperate housewife... hahahahaha...

until i hit rockbottom and told myself this can't be for the rest of my life... great thing, my ex left me for another guy.. and that gave me enough reason to pack my bags and start from where i left off...

since then i've found my balance... i'm enjoying the blood rush and manic pushing demands of work... i bought my own place, economically so independent and emotionally so secured with family and friends... UNTIL a little more than a month ago, i met this guy through g4m which shook my so-called life... i fell in love.. i knew what i was doing was dumb, but what would i do? he made me fall in love... i was again at that crossroad of totally reverting to my experience in the past.. but lo and behold! i was knocked off back to my senses... i realised i was a desperate kerida! for chrissake!

now, AGAIN, i'm back in my element... i didn't lose anything.. i'm back in the rat race and loving it... my life in my 20's... a rollercoaster one... knowing is different from learning...

Taking Meself Forward

05 June 2007

6:07 PM

we're finally over last sunday... the break up is killing me.. i will grieve for now but not long.. i cried since.. i am letting all heartaches out.. i will be fine.. self-respect motivates me to be strong...

i would have made an entirely different lifeplan had we stayed together... but in a matter of days only, i've redirected my life.... took a different path.. i was looking forward to a life with him even if it meant only few days with him... and a fraction of his attention and love.. i was resolved to that idea, even if it reduced me into a dumb second priority partner.. but heck.. just because i loved him...

i've packed my bags and i plan to go back to australia, i am taking a weeklong or months break from the all too familiar things.. just so i'd forget him.. i finally took one final phone call last night to him, still in the hope of patching things up... but i knew in my heart that it is really over....

my heart is totally bleeding... there's nothing in my mind but him... but my soul says hold on and be strong... i'm walking away for now..

Styling Confusion

July 3, 2007

4:33 AM

hi cris, unsolicited advice ko.. hehehe i hope this helps..alam mo ba yung parang tinatali na tela ala karate kid... find something like that tie it right between your forehead and the hairline, careful that it will not look like a hair band, so you don't look flamboyantly gay.. hehehe... pair that with a canvas sling bag, especially if you can find one that you just can tie on your shoulder... F & H has this low waist cargo pants that's made of very soft material... then you can roll up or fold the lower part of the legpants just right below the knee.. and for your top: dress shirt again of very soft material will do... and of course, if you can find Sanuk thongs or havaianas will do the trick also..

i just had my vacation in Fiji.. i signed up with a whole bunch of french tourists.. and apart from the usual boardshorts/surfer look.. the men wore something like what i wrote above.. it looked so stylish.. i sported that look also when i went to siargao last holy week, and my friends liked it..

Of Chocolates and Soaps

03 June 2007

8:09 AM

let it go... break ups can be very disheartening.. but on one note, break ups can be relieving as well... sometimes, it takes one brave front to call it quits.. and sometimes it does not happen that way... and so couples become miserable, daunted and began to hurt each other without really trying to be so explicit about it...

something beautiful can be derived from break-ups.. it is a matter of conditioning our mind that there has got to be a reason why the relationship has to end.... or maybe none at all... but one thing for sure, we get ourselves back because somehow we lose them...

or probably in the beginning, the relationship wasn't something we really needed...we just thought so..

i plan to be a drifter and lick my wounds.... reality brought much pain.. even if i want to call him names, curse him and get hell mad for causing me this pain, i won't concede to those... i am truly thankful that i have a pure heart which will lead me to healing.. i will not wish him well nor ill... i will detach meantime from the all too familiar things... these are not ideas of running away... these are my own ways of recovery..

i still have myself plus the overwhelming presence of inspiring people who continue to bless me with their love.. my family and my closest friends have always been there... whether the pain that i feel is unspoken or expressed..

i hope for deliverance from the throbbing pain... i will grieve for now but not long... God is good.

Every Inch of Me

01 June 2007

10:39 AM

for me it's a lifetime struggle talaga to keep too much weight off... but heck! i'm comfortable being a chub.. about my body.. ... it's really important that we feel so sure of ourselves, because it transcends to how people perceive us also... and keep frosty... dress up... look good... be healthier.. have good skin.. read.. get into sports and music.. travel.. and choose carefully which people you will allow to get into your circle...then you can live young and free!:)

Lovefool v.1

29 May 2007

7:24 PM

it was really difficult.. i never imagined to be a kabit... don't wish for things that are beyond your control.. i wasn't able to find even a bit of courage to finally find deliverance from this kind of relationship... loving him was not a choice, because if it were, i would've chosen an easier life without him in my life... but i've made a decision.. and that was to love him in the ways that i knew how and be loved by the limited ways he only gave... huhuhuhuhu...