mader, nabubuhay ang mga patay! part 2

"Hello there! Bernie here, care to chat?" :)

He popped up unexpectedly, it was a username i haven’t seen in years. Pie pauses for a while. Dejavu. Same old intro, same online “warmth”, should there be one. It was this “warmth” that got me talking to him til the wee hours of the morning when i was still “discovering” myself in the chatrooms, a good six years ago. He had a style all unto himself; confident, but not arrogant, as most chatters i’ve met back then were. He had the “mature” stuff, going all over his online “aura”, that got me giddy, like a teenage girl who just held hands with her boy for the first time. that was the feeling—a princess meeting prince charming for the first time. Bernie was quick to burst my bubble though. he told me that as much as he was enjoying our little chats, that he was prowling the site, like most guys present there are doing—for easy sex; he was quick to add, as a brotherly advice that i shouldn’t go looking for love in chatrooms for i will surely be disappointed; I saw his point, but still proceeded chatting with him, anyway.

I was 22, i was just coming to terms with a sexuality that i fought and struggled with, for so long. Yes, he “read” me right when he gave me that unsolicited advice; that i was looking for my prince, eyebags growing by the minute, in that chatroom where one’s face is his YM handle ; his identity. if one is good with words, ugly will become beautiful, hideous will be gorgeous. And in that chatroom, almost everyone held doctorate degrees in creative writing. A minute of delightful conversation passed.. and then ten. Thirty was easy if you’re in cloud nine. i told him i was tying to hit two birds with one stone—that if love blossoms in the process, then it’d be the added bonus; i was there looking for easy fun, too. I know, foolish, stupid reasoning; but i was secretly hoping he’ll have a change of heart in the process, that after the eye-popping sex, he’ll realize he’s looking at his prince charming’s eyes all along, too. At 22, I was that desperate. We set up a date and time to meet, at shangrila mall, in EDSA.

“oh yes, i remember you”, i said, as my mind trailed off to that place beside kalentong market. We just got off the taxi he hailed from shangrila mall, and proceeded a bit further, on foot, passing the street filled with illegal vendors, to reach that small room. That small room, with the incandescent light bulbs and that small bed, waiting for us; waiting for me.

"Huh?"

"Yeah."

to be continued...

mader, nabubuhay ang mga patay!

I was online using Yahoo’s chat / messaging service the other day when out of the blue, a familiar username popped up. It said hi and proceeded to engage me in a manner that was very familiar to me; for not too long ago, i have been a regular fixture in chatrooms that if such lines go unnoticed, such an occurrence would surely signal that my then [unparalleled] ability of sniffing out pick-up lines have greatly diminished in my years of hibernation. A tentative smile began to form in my lips, for suddenly i didn’t know how to react.

If this has been just an old contact i flirted with, i would have easily dismissed him and went on with my life; but the moment i said hi to him and told him that i remembered him, memories of a six year old sunlight falling through the wide windows of shangrila plaza mall in the late afternoon came flooding my senses. Rains have lashed out on the streets of the metro during those months of July and August, and that particular day was no different. Work was prematurely suspended because of the heavy rains; and i came to the designated meeting place mere minutes before he came into view wearing a light yellow polo shirt and cargo shorts slightly wet from the splashings outside the mall. We ate spaghetti in one of the restaurants at the mall’s fifth level. We chatted some more, and later on decided to look for some place more private to continue with the chat.

He paid for the taxi and that small room somewhere in Kalentong, that sunny-rainy afternoon of June.

to be continued...

of blind dates and other tear-inducing thoughts

This morning i got this comment from the other blog that got tears welling in my eyes in an instant:

narito pa rin naman si ate... thats me....
just in case di mo narinig early morning greeting ko nung bday mo...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BROTHER!!!

... your family would always look at you like that... our baby... kahit pa we are sometimes preoccupied with our own problems...

...narito lang kami lagi para sa iyo...

... i'm really praying for you to find real happiness, peace and joy...

...o naku! dami nga pala audience dito... baka sabihin nila...emo rin sis mo.

...ah basta... luv you always :)

I wrote about the impermanence of people.. not so much of their love for you, but of their fragile bodies contacting diseases, being hospitalized and going to the place you cannot follow yet. I wrote how, going to our ancestral house that afternoon of my birthday to deliver some of the spaghetti I cooked, all I saw was despair and sorrow in the eyes of my otherwise cheerful aunts and cousins; one of my aunts was hospitalized because of diabetes, and it was evident that no matter how cheerful they acted, greeting me on my special day, the sorrow was there. Sigh. If I could only turn back time, when everything was happy and carefree. I tend to be theatrical, when I get down to write of the things that concern me; things get blown out of proportion, and It must be an overwhelming despair of something that is written in a cryptic kind of way, that got my sister to making such comment. I just hope that when I go home this weekend for my dad’s fifth year death anniversary, she won’t confront me, going back to our never-ending argument of being true to oneself; and "curing" me of this "disease".

In a related happening, a cousin texted me this morning if I’m open to the idea of going on a blind date. I was tentative to answer at first, as i go for blind dates if I’m currently seeking; but as it is, I’m in a very much blissful state and I don’t see the need for it now; and chances are, it’s a girl she will be arranging for me to meet and that will only scare the shit outa me. Hehehe. after a long pause, I managed to key-in the following reply in my celfone… “hehe. Scary”. With that, he understood that blind dates are not my thing and proceeded to leave me in peace.

I just wish this isn’t an all-out coordinated effort from my dear beloved sister.

two sides of the coin | a birthday post

I made this entry yesterday and posted it on my fresh and fruity themed blog. Since all my thoughts cannot be reflected in toto using just that blog, which i deem too wholesome for the real me, i present now the unedited version, with the insertions i made spelled out in italics. Enjoy. And oh, happy birthday to me. hehehe.

What a tiring day. I am writing this, at the eve of my 28th year, and 2 days of uncontrolled eating. I started my day, waking up with no definite goal in mind other than updating my music library, removing extinct links and streamlining my music to the stuff i currently enjoy; and retaining those that still work for me. Those that come from another era of taste—not necessarily that of a genre, i’m talking bout those things i previously enjoyed and now seems to hail from another time; a child’s taste in music—will definitely have to go. I am happy to report that nothing got accomplished of such grandiose a plan. I spent my day floating in a limbo of sorts. And no exercise, too. I just ate. And ate. And ate. And ate. Well, tomorrow’s gonna be my birthday ain’t it?

It all started Thursday night, when i went to my cousins’ house at ilang-ilang street, in commonwealth avenue in quezon city. The cousin i wrote of recently in my other blog, died from the aneurysm attack she suffered. It was a sorta “wake” that i went to, except there was no corpse, no coffin to see physically. It was an online viewing for relatives, as she was in the U.S., working as a nurse when it happened. The desktop was turned on for the rest of the night going well into dawn, up until the time that i left for the province at around 10 in the morning, the following day.

The whole affair was the most un-wake-like wake (if ever there is such a word) i ever attended, thus far. instead of biscuits and coffee, we gorged on one of my cousin’s home cooked lomi noodles. Then one of my nephews, who is just about my age ordered roasted chicken and “crispy ulo” from nearby a lechon kiosk. We ate it alongside sips of san mig light and a Johnny walker black label that one of the nephews brought from his recent stint as a seaman abroad. We also had potato chips flowing in abundance to supplement the roasting. By the time one of the nephews took a picture to document the get-together (as everyone i know from that particular branch of the family was present that night) we were all so tipsy and smiling that the picture didn’t look like it was taken from a supposed funeral wake, at all. We did manage to say our prayers, though; and shed tears when gracie finally gave out her last words for her mom.

Some older cousins who did not see me for nearly a year, almost didn’t recognize me from all the hair that’s been covering my beautiful face. Hehehe. two outrightly blurted out that i looked like ely buendia in my current incarnation. Everything was light and cheerful until one cousin, who seemed too confident with his sexuality that he almost always gets away with on-the-spot gay impersonations, told me in jest that “its ok as long as you don’t do a bebe”; in most probability referring to rustom padilla the actor who after months of hiatus in the US suddenly turned up in a woman’s garb proclaiming to the world that rustom is dead, and long live bebe. Coming from him who i consider to be the most blunt (in a good way) and direct individual i’ve known all my life, its actually a good sign that he said those words with an honest smile on his face; good intentions tucked in. Had they all noticed/ known of the fact, in the years i’ve lived with them? Why, i never had in my five years of staying with them, ever brought home a man in the middle of the night to sleep with me. hehehe. oh shucks, it must be the beauty pageant smile then, and the dainty fingers handling the spoon and fork during dinners; that must be it, huh? Hehehe.

On Saturday afternoon, sis reminded me of going to church to attend mass in remembrance of tatay’s 5th year death anniversary. She had scheduled a nine-day novena with the parochial office of our local parish so that every day, tatay’s name will be mentioned as part of intentions/ prayer offerings prior to the start of the mass. As geloy my nephew is almost always with us when attending these types of masses (i rarely go to church except on special occasions, for issues stated earlier in my first ever blog entry), seeing ate coming from behind me to attend mass (she came from the office) in place of geloy who went to attend a review for the UPCAT held in Dagupan, made my heart beat a little faster. Is she planning to close in on me, whisper to my ear during the homily, to repent and turn away from loving men, and be saved? I’m so dreading another day of confrontation with her; she is really bent on curing me, my sis. When i came out to her, she told me she loves me with all her heart (thank God, i said), and that she will help me out of it (NOOOO!!!). so just imagine her shock when i told her that she already met my partner—dee regularly goes home with me during the time i haven’t made the big outing yet, disguised as a close friend—she surely must have suffered the way i suffered when i haven’t told her all this yet. There is no question that we love each other dearly. Our parents saw to it, tatay specifically, that we watch each other’s back; for this is a cruel, cruel world; and no one will pick you up when your down except your sibling. But we are two sides of the coin in this great debate of being true to one’s nature. Sigh. I bet she’s still calculating her moves and decided it wasn’t a good time yet. Instead of disagreeing, we agreed to head over to chowking after the mass to have an early night merienda at six pm, of congee and tokwa’t baboy.

Arriving home, i made sure nanay had company (meaning, i ate ulit... hehehe) while eating the siopao we took out for her and cj. Then i proceeded to make the fruit salad in time for tomorrow’s celebration, but that which already got a severe “tasting”, from the time i was whipping it, to the time we finished dinner at around 9:30 this evening. May natira pa naman for tomorrow. Haaayy.. haayyy talaga.

At bukas pa ang birthday ko ha. Ayaw ko na kumain!!! Please!!

its a krissy world

Oops, she did it again.

Two days have passed, yet the office is still tense with negative energies.

Yes, you know who I’m talking about. Krissy. The office’ very own bitchuwelas case. The one and the only. The supreme diva herself.

Only this time the casualty is not sweet and creamy Pie oh Pah, but the kids and their parent-officemates who brought them for the summer art camp/ classes, officially endorsed by our department as part of our HR office’s extension service to employees with children.

“Why didn’t you bring your kids to our Christmas party? You know how I love kids”, her declaration two Christmases ago went ringing in my ears as some sort of a flashback device to nicely counter what has transpired just recently.

“may pasok pa po kasi sila” the parent employees uniformly and politely answered. Though within the group’s secret conversations (secret to Krissy, that is) what the parents really wanted to say was “e kasi halata naman pong ayaw nyong may bata dito”.

That was two Christmases ago. Last year we didn’t have any Christmas celebration at all because Krissy found another way to trump plans of holding one, the details of which are blurry in my mind right now; what only comes to mind so far is her Oscar-winning monologue, “ …e kung ganyan din lang naman e di wag na tayong mag-party”. The staff positively responded by holding our own party outside the office, devoid of her fugly presence.

Christmas came and went, fast-forward to here and now. I was stationed at the monitoring desk, away from the scene of the crime, but I was keen enough to sense that something changed in the air. There was an immediate silence. Yes the library is supposed to be silent but the silence this time was deafening, and only one incensed voice is filling the air. From the tone, and the inflection, I can easily point it to krissy without having the need to even take a look. From my vantage point, I can see my officemates with startled looks on their faces.

Minutes earlier, the kids who were present for the summer art classes came busting through the doors running, and laughing. Nobody paid much attention, not even the researchers present because everyone knows kids are like that. Our assistant boss even made a gesture of shushing action with his fingers, but since the action all happened in a blur, the effort fell on deaf ears.

Harnessing my cognitive skills to full use, I immediately made the connection that Krissy’s sparkling scene has something to do with the kids’ running. I only needed to confirm my speculation with a full-detailed account which, knowing my officemates’ insatiable thirst for current information (translation : tsismis), confirmation wouldn’t be hard to come by. Surely enough, officemate A came to my post infuriated and giggling at the same time. She recounted the event as if laying down a report for an evening newscast ala Bente Kwatro Oras (this, I must say is just one of her talents, hehehe). She quoted Krissy as saying :

“ano ba naman [state name of assistant boss here], para yan lang. iyan lang, hindi mo pa madisiplina. Hindi nyo na nirespeto ang opisina ko!” and then the grand diva faded to an even grander exit to the office pantry, to take her usual lunch at 2:00-3:30 in the afternoon. What a charmed existence huh? Darating ng 10 AM to take her breakfast, maglalunch ng 2 PM. but this post is not dedicated to tracing her eating patterns so forget bout me ever saying that, hehehe.

Delving into the nitty-gritty of the scene, the outside observer is led to the following conclusion:

1. She should seek treatment soon. Small incidents shouldn’t lead to outbursts like that. a coherent, fully-functioning individual, a boss for that matter, should seek healthy avenues of communication. There’s always a nice way of saying things. If it’s ever an offense to her high standards of silence in the library, she could always call the concerned parents and tell them nicely, one on one; and not exploding into a scene that has been witnessed even by the regular researchers. Kahiya!

2. She should seek treatment soon. as an office of the government, bosses and employees alike get their salaries from taxpayers. It seems she’s under the delusion that she owns the office and we are but underlings ran astray from the paths of traditional shushing librarianship and that she has the responsibility to exorcise us of our demons. Heller, this is the twenty-first century, mother superior! At di mo kami pinapasweldo para magdiva-divahan ng ganyan, pwede ba!

3. She should seek treatment soon.

whore, i say

whore, i say--
cheeks slightly ruddy
from the sweltering heat--
you look from left to right,
right to left;
gasping a little
in admiration
of the pristine construction--
a true bourgeois beauty;
deserving nothing
but a well-poised pout
and slightly raised eyebrows
before blowing em a kiss

whore, i say
as you hold on to your waist,
and to your breath;
you shift your gaze down
and curl those lips--
the way those wet locks curl
as they sizzle, drying in open air—
oh, those deliciously devious lips,
devoid of mercy when aimed
at paralyzing targets
within that unforgiving
ten mile radius;
now that gaze seems to say,
Bitch, You still have it
Whore, you still got what it takes
to make that mirror steam
and break and sin;
lusting for your attention

Whore, i say;
You woke up today
Gasping for air,
as if just come
from a long-winding dream;
and you realize
the mirror doesn’t seem
so friendly anymore,
so flattering, so sparkling--
now that you’re 28;
and you realize
it’s just a slow downhill trek
long and winding
from here on