Friday, May 28, 2004


I have a freak stalker who began texting me about 2 weeks ago. I have no idea how he got my number, and when I asked him to tell me exactly when and where I gave it to him, he only responded by inviting me to talk about it on a landline.

I've since ignored him because he keeps evading my queries on how he got my number, but the fucker still keeps hounding me, ranging from texts in the morning, night and misscalls. This is his latest text message:

"I find it rather amazing how we came 2 know each other & eventually became friends. Life indeed has its miracles...and finding u is reason enuf 2 believe!"

Okay, first of all, I sincerely hope that was just a stupid text greeting that you just forwarded, as poorly spelled and cheesy as it is, your biggest sin is that you're simply an idiot with no taste. But in case is ISN'T, and you actually wrote that text for me? You have officially moved in my book from "MINOR ANNOYANCE" into "PERSON I HATE".

I am gregarious and open, but I make a distinction between "people that I am friendly with" and "people who are my FRIENDS". My friendships are something I extend to just a select few people; the ones who were for me when I was at my lowest point; people who I can trust to show my weakest side and not be criticized or judged, people I can TRUST.

I may be a throwback, but friendship is something I take very, very seriously. And people who view friendships in such a cavalier manner (and thus more likely to abuse them) are one of the few things that anger me on a whole different level altogether.

We AREN'T friends, and this forced familiarity on your part DISGUSTS me and ensures that we never WILL be friends. I'd tell you to go to hell, but that would probably just encourage you all the more.

Just stop bothering me.

Thursday, May 27, 2004


Anyone who's been reading my blog lately will have noticed that the majority of my posts have been merely links to other pages or lyrics to songs or passages. Not that I have a need to explain myself, but I just suddenly feel more private than usual.

It's not that I don't have anything to SAY, it's just that I don't feel like sharing it with the world. I've always been a private person, and lately I just want... I just want things to be quiet, I guess.

I'll concede one thing though, before I retreat again into my solitude.

This entire year so far has been a year of firsts: first weekend alone, first valentine's day alone, I've been rediscovering experiences and facing them no longer with the other at my side, and I've had to re-learn all over again.

Some firsts are easier than others. The first Christmas alone will be easy because brenda loathed the holiday and went out of his way to be miserable during it. In retrospect, I don't think I knew anyone else who put as much energy into actively being unhappy as he did.

This will be my first birthday alone again. Despite the sickness and the cold and the coughing and whatnot, I think the reason I've been pensive lately is because I still closely associate my birthday with my ex.

Two years ago, we first met almost a week before my 27th birthday, and went out on our first date on the day itself. A few days after that, we were together, and I was in such a blissful state I can't remember being as happy since.

It's not that I miss him (no more than any person misses a long-gone ex) but this day, -- the one day where I actually have the right to say that it's all about me; as opposed to the rest of the year when I just ACT like it -- instead of being excited, I find myself pausing in silent reflection. With my birthday coming up I can't help but think about it. About him. About everything. Just thinking.

I know. In the words of Vin: Stop it. Just Stop it. I will, don't worry about me. Just let me get through these upcoming days.

But for now, back into silence.


I got this off Nic's brand-spanking new blog. These are apparently questions posed in lyrics to a song.

1. Am I not pretty enough?

Hmmm... well, from the way I carry on about how cute I am (just ask my friends) I think I'm PLENTY pretty! But seriously, even though I've had people say I'm cute and all that, and I get on average one new friendster request a week from guys wanting to "be my friend" or "get to know me better", deep down I still feel like that ugly shit I was in high school. It would surprise my aforementioned friends to discover that I am still genuinely amazed when I'm told that someone finds me attractive.

2. Is my heart too broken?

Heart? Broken? What's that?

3. Do I talk too much?

When I'm nervous and tense, heck yes. When I'm relaxed with the people around me, I swing to the opposite side of the spectrum and just sit back, listening and observing. I like watching people, listening to the stories they have and how they communicate. People fascinate me.

4. Am I too outspoken?

I have a tendency to be a come across as too 'in your face' at certain times. Other times I can be a total wallflower if I'm not comfortable with the people around me.

5. Don't I make you laugh?

Not for lack of trying. I'm a lot like Chandler from friends in that I'm always on the lookout in people's conversations to slip in the latest Clever Zinger. Whether it's actually funny or not is another matter altogether.

6. Should I try it harder?


7. Why do you see right through me?

I wear my heart on my sleeve. Partly because it's a component of my personality, but also because of a conscious decision on my part to not play games with people. Why hide what you really feel if they should know about it? Don't get me wrong, I am fully capable of hiding my emotions when I want to. I'm just sick of the idea that some people expect you to be able to read their minds, and hold it against you if you can't.

Brenda was SO smug in saying that he could read my mind just by looking at me, when in truth I only put my emotions out there because he would have never picked up on them if I didn't. And sometimes, despite the willful transparency, he STILL didn't get how I felt. At all.

Welcome to the wonderful world of blogging, sweetie!

Gladys Knight

L.A. proved too much for the man,
So he's leavin' the life he's come to know,
He said he's goin' back to find
Ooh, what's left of his world,
The world he left behind
Not so long ago

He's leaving,
On that midnight train to Georgia,
And he's goin' back
To a simpler place and time
And I'll be with him
On that midnight train to Georgia,
I'd rather live in his world
Than live without him in mine

He kept dreamin'
That someday he'd be a star
But he sure found out the hard way
That dreams don't always come true

So he pawned all his hopes
and he even sold his old car
Bought a one way ticket
To the life he once knew,
Oh yes he did,
He said he would

Be leaving
On that midnight train to Georgia,
And he's goin' back
To a simpler place and time
And I'll be with him
On that midnight train to Georgia,

I'd rather live in his world
Than live without him in mine.

Wednesday, May 26, 2004


I am up at 1:30 AM because I literally woke up hacking my guts out. Again.

Have I mentioned lately how much I hate being sick? Because I do. Very. Very. Much.

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Some love is just a lie of the heart
The cold remains of what began with a passionate start
And they may not want it to end
But it will, it's just a question of when.

          - Billy Joel, "A Matter of Trust"

Monday, May 24, 2004


I am complete unto myself
I have everything that I need
And everything I don't have will come to me
When I am ready to receive.


Maybe it's the weather.

Or the fact that I'm sick.

Or maybe the fact that I've been watching the DVDs of Friends and have that show on the brain right now. It's a show I still heavily associate with Love -- Ross & Rachel's unbreakable connection; Chandler & Monica's unexpected but enduring relationship, Phoebe & Mike's gentle balance, Joey & sandwiches -- and right now, that particular topic is one that still saddens me more than anything else.

Maybe it's the fact that my birthday is coming up; my first as a single person again.

Maybe it's one of those things. Maybe its none of them.

But I've been having a really hard time trying to feel hopeful. I just have this nagging feeling that whatever you call what I'm in right now, this is pretty much my fate, and I'd better get used to it.

I just feel so weary.

Sunday, May 23, 2004


I've been nursing a cough-with-cold since the weekend (perfect timing, no?) that has gotten progressively worse: From a dry hack to coughing up bits of clear saliva occasionally to hacking up a thick, greenish goo... yum.

That's the reason why I'm sitting here in front of the computer instead of working out at Fitness First, and at the rates I'm paying for that place, sitting on my ass instead of working out feels like I'm just burning my money.

Will be going to the doctor later this afternoon to have it checked out, but for the meantime it's all about taking it easy and not pushing myself too hard. Normally that's known as a "vacation", but I think I can do without the coughing my lungs out and spitting into a wad of tissue every five minutes part.

I hate being sick.

Saturday, May 22, 2004


Troy in fifteen minutes

You must watch the movie first before clinking the link. Too, too funny.

Monday, May 17, 2004


My Tita Jas arrived from the states the other week to conduct a medical mission in Morong, something she and my Tita Beng do semi-annually. Last tuesday, we met at Megamall to have lunch and make kwento about our resepctive families.

She came along with some of her relatives; one of whoom as with portly 30ish man named Dong, who was incidentally was nephew of hers and a consejal running under FPJ's party -- at this point, upon learning of his party affiliation I shut up about any further political discussion to keep the peace -- Tita Jas and the rest of his family helped out during the campaign (which he ultimately won) so at least we weren't lacking in topics for conversation.

I asked about what kind of things they did for campaigning, and I concede that by this point I had pre-judged them already (by virtue of their party and my disdain for politicians in general); half-expecting to hear some morally questionable behaviors as a result of their successful campaign. I was not surprised to hear that they were giving out bottles of alcohol to young voters as presents, something which should have been a no-no considering the liquor bans and all that.

However, when I probed further, the alcohol was just one of MANY gifts that were given to voters, not as a bribe lavished on them like the free meals in styrofoam containers given to the hakots during "Edsa tres", but as gifts to voters who actually went to their house asking for handouts.

Apparently -- and forgive me if I am the only person not aware of this and everyone reading this blog is going "Uhm yeah! DUH!" right now -- it is a common practice for people to visit the houses of the candidates who are running for public office and "ask" them for "assistance" in the form of money, free gifts, or whatever.

These voters have turned election season into their own little Christmas season, going from candidtate to candidate as if they were ninongs, and asking for pamasko. Money, alcohol, and other presents are handed out freely during election season to any voter who asks. One family asked my cousin for permission to swim in their pool. Another particularly cheeky individual asked Dong for money to pay for his freaking ELECTRIC bill.

"But they probably ask that kind of thing from every candidate!" I said. "How do they know that the money they give will actually make a difference in them voting for you?" My cousin who helped out in Dong's campaign, shrugged his shoulders and agreed with me.

To wit: if they give money or whatnot, thit doesn't guarantee that they will vote for them. But if they DON'T give anything, it guarantees that they WON'T. It's an ugly cycle of greed, with voters looking to cash in on this season by ostensibly holding their vote up as blackmail for the candidates for a handout.

Even in just a small town, imagine the number of people that come to your house looking for payoffs. Add to that the already considerable cost of runing a campaign, I'm getting a new insight and perspective into why so many politicans end up raiding the coffers if and once they get into power. In a way, it's simply returning the favor to the voters, with interest.

Much has been said about corrupt leaders, but what about corrupt VOTERS? Instead of basing their decision on issues, integrity and plans for the future, the criteria for the person who will be governing them for the next 4 years is distilled into "how much can I get out of this?"

If we sell our votes, that fucking CHEAP, then maybe we deserve a leader who is out to take us for all that he can get.

Sunday, May 16, 2004


A few months back, while getting a free trial workout at Fitness First (where I eventually purchased a membership) I injured my right shoulder by bench-pressing too heavy a weight in the wrong position. That little display is due to one of my flaws; if I see many guys lifting heavy weights I feel compelled to match or top them if I can. I can already hear Katrice in my head saying "You ARE male."

Anyhoo, since the pain was, on a scale of one to ten, only a 3 in certain positions, and moved up to 6 when I tried to lift, at first I simply ignored the pain and continued working out, hoping it would go away on its' own. After a month, I stopped lifting and shifted to a cardio-centric workout for a month, hoping it would go away.

At this point more than 2 months had passed and the pain was STILL there, and it was preventing me from lifting anything heavier to increase my strength, so I finally went to Dr. Leagogo, a specialist in this field for a diagnosis. He prescribed me 10 sessions of physical therapy, twice a week, and I've been going ever since.

It's a fairly light session, headed by this actually rather pretty intern named Michelle, a dainty, pale-skinned beauty with curly hair and a nice smile. If I was straight, I might actually be attracted to her. And not to sound too egotistical, I got the sense that she was sort-of flirting with me as well, by the way she would laugh at my feeble attempts at being witty. Oh well.

First off, 5 minutes of ultrasound to loosen the muscles followed by a series of stretches, then some shoulder exercises using a light dumbbell, topped off by 20 minutes of being hooked up to this small machine which delivers a series of small electrical charges to my shoulder to strengthen the muscles while covered by a hot compress.

It is during this part -- sitting still for 20 minutes -- that my mind starts to wander, and when that happens, inevitably I do what I always do when I'm in this position: Brood. This is why I try to distract myself whether with work or with play as much as I can; because if my mind stays still I start to think about all that's sucky in my life (ignoring all the good that is also going on at the same time) and start to slowly sink into a murky pit of self pitying depression.

If you are familiar with me (or have been simply reading my blog for a while now) you don't have to guess what topic my mind went to first and foremost, so I don't have to mention it, because quite frankly I'M sick of it. The only thing new of note I can say about it is that henceforth I shall be referring to it as "Brenda".

So there I was, slowly making myself gloomier by the minute. And since it was a rehab ward, it wasn't exactly the most ideal place to try and cheer oneself up: Everywhere around me there were elderly people who were in varying degrees of paralysis; a 15-year old who was recuperating from a stroke, a man in a wheelchair with a distant look on his face and eyes that didn't look in the same direction.

At this point an old man with pale, age-spotted skin was wheeled in, accompanied by who I assumed to be his wife (or perhaps his sister). While the was nonresponsive (probably a stroke victim) his wife was talking to him spiritedly, giving him gentle encouragement and talking to him as if he was walking sprightly on his own two feet instead of being near-vegetative state in a wheelchair.

It was nice to see, actually. There was an intimacy and closeness there that was probably a result of a life spent together; I remember when my lola was alive, and I have to say that taking care of an invalid requires LOTS of selflessness, love and sacrifice and is no task for a self-centered person. Despite the adversity and the difficulty of their circumstances, there was an optimism to her voice that could only have been fueled by love: "I don't care because I love you and that's all that matters."

As simple as that. It actually cheered me up for a bit, leaving me with the slight hope of being that lucky to be with someone capable of that kind of love when I'm that age, as I have quiet confidence that I will be capable of doing the same. Then I went back to brooding again.

I was currently turning it all around by thinking how I'll probably never find someone as loving as that blah blah blah self-pitycakes when the woman came straight over to where I was sitting, looked me in the eye with a gentle look on her face and spoke to me:

WOMAN: How are you?

ME: (A little taken aback) uhm.. I'm fine!

WOMAN: I hope you get well soon.

Then she smiled, and walked to where her husband was getting treatment.

And at that point, it was like the black muck of sadness I was immersing myself in was cleansed away by that one tiny little gesture. My mood was elevated instantly, and I was overcome with this overwhelming feeling of.... light from that one act.

I was just awestruck by how thoroughly the negativity that had engulfed me had been replaced by euphoria brought upon by just this one act. My mind was racing, the blog entry you are reading right now being written in my head as I walked towards the car. The feeling was so strong that I just HAD to write about it as soon as I got home, and here I am.

I've forgotten how powerful a random act of kindness can be.

Stephin Merritt and the Magnetic Fields

I don't want to get over you.
I guess I could take a sleeping pill
and sleep at will
and not have to go through what I go through.

I guess I should take Prozac, right,
and just smile all night
at somebody new, somebody not too bright,
but sweet and kind
who would try to get you off my mind.

I could leave this agony behind,
which is what I'd do if I wanted to,
but I don't want to get over you,
cause I don't want to get over love.

I could listen to my therapist,
pretend you don't exist,
and not have to dream of what I dream of.

I could listen to all my friends
and go out again and pretend
it's enough, or I could make a career of being blue.
I could dress in black and read Camus,
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like I was 17.
That would be a scream,

but I don't want to get over you.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004


... to Subic, where I will be spending the weekend with Nikka and Paul, two of my favoritest people. I don't know what there is to "do" there, so I have no expectations (which how I should approach life in general) beyond hanging out with good friends, relaxing, eating and cooking -- I will be bringing my belgian waffle iron and plan to repay the soon-to-be-known-as The Hugos' hospitality by making them banana caramel walnut waffles for breakfast.

Beyond that, I don't have anything else planned. I haven't really been somewhere I've never been before in more than a year. (yes, I went to Bangkok last Christmas, but due to certain events closely associated with that time, I've blocked it out for the most part)

Oh, and Nikka just texted me to bring swim gear, because they're trying to nurse a sick dolphin back to health (probably in the Ocean World Marine Park). I guess I'll definitely have ONE interesting thing to look forward to there. :)

I need a change of scenery.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Frank Sinatra

I want to see your face in every kind of light
In fields of dawn and forests of the night
And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make
What are you doing the rest of your life?

North and South and East and West of your life
I have only one request of your life
That you spend it all with me

All the seasons and the times of your days
All the nickels and the dimes of your days
Let the reasons and the rhymes of your days
All begin and end with me

I want to see your face in every kind of light
In the fields of dawn and the forests of the night
And when you stand before the candles on a cake
Oh, let me be the one to hear the silent wish you make

Those tomorrows waiting deep in your eyes
In the world of love that you keep in your eyes
I'll awaken what's asleep in your eyes

It may take a kiss or two
Through all of my life
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall of my life
All I ever will recall of my life
Is all of my life with you

Monday, May 10, 2004


The countdown begins.


Got this off a buddy on friendster:

Will you ever date someone younger than you?
- It would have to be someone mature for their age; or to be more specific, someone I could connect with on an equal level. Age DOES have a lot to do with that.

Someone Older:
- I think at this point I'd actually prefer dating someone a little older.

Ever been drunk:
- Yes.

Been in love:
- Most definitely.

Loved someone who you knew you couldn't have:
- Hmmmm..... at the time I THOUGHT it was love, but in retrospect it was probably more of infatuation mixed with lust mixed with the idea that I SHOULD be going after someone.

Gotten in a car accident:
- Nothing major, thank god.

Broken a bone:
- No. *knocks wood*

Had your heart broken:
- Most definitely.

Cheated on someone:
- Never have, and never WILL.

Been cheated on:
- Apparently, according to someone who has really warped ideas on how to make someone feel better -- and will earn a beating from me if I ever have the pleasure of meeting him face to face -- yes.

Last time you said I love you to someone:
- Can't remember.

Last time you cried:
- January.

Last time you laughed:
- 3 hours ago, watching Spongebob Squarepants

Where do you see yourself in 10 years:
- Hopefully in a better place emotionally. If not with someone who loves me as much as I love him, then at least at peace with being alone.

What age do you see yourself married at?
- It's not about age. I'd get married tomorrow if I really felt it was right.

Describe your dream wedding:
- Non-traditional. Outdoor ceremony held by the sea, standing in the sand. Just close family and my dearest friends. Plenty of singing and musical merriment from my musician friends for the reception.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
- No.

If you could dye your hair one color, what would it be?
- Blonde. I enjoyed being blonde.

Have you ever been skinny-dipping:
- Nope.

Would you rather give or receive?
- Definitely give.

How many homes have you lived in?
- 2, although I only really remember living in one.

1 pillow or two?
- one good, full pillow.

Do you get along with your parents?
- Surprisingly, yes. After my breakup, relations have improved significantly between me and my mother.

Do you drive?
- Yes. I like driving. I find it very thereaputic. If it wasn't for the gas costs, I'd drive around aimlessly just to think.

What kind of car do you have?
- Silver Nissan Crosswind. Neither speedy nor flashy, but gets you where you need to go and is quite comfortable.

Whats your favorite color?
- Black, brown, purple.

Do you work?
- Yes.

Whats your favorite food:
- I am the wrong person to ask about just one food.

Do you have braces:
- No.

How many guys/girls have you kissed:
- 1 girl and 5 guys.

When was the last time you went on a date:
- April.

Have you ever got in serious trouble?
- Yes.

Why is the sky blue:
- I remember being asked this question back in grade school. I didn't know the answer then, and I sure as hell don't know the answer now.

Who was your first crush:
- Honestly don't remember, but it was probably female since I was still in denial then...

When you meet a person of your preferred sex, you first notice their:
- face, level of chunkiness, smile.

Are you the romantic type:
- Oh my goodness, yes.

Have you ever been chased by cops?:
- Nope.

Sunday, May 09, 2004

Boyz II Men

We don’t even talk anymore
And we don’t even know what we argue about
Don’t even say I love you no more
’cause saying how we feel is no longer allowed
Some people will work things out
And some just don’t know how to change

Let’s don’t wait till the water runs dry
We might watch our whole lives pass us by
Let’s don’t wait till the water runs dry
We’ll make the biggest mistake of our lives
Don’t do it baby

Some people will work things out
And some just don’t know how to change.


jad·ed (adj.)

1. Dulled by surfeit; sated.
2. Cynically or pretentiously callous.
3. Worn out; wearied, spiritless.

Thursday, May 06, 2004


"Dude, focus. Basketball. Not relationships, BASKETBALL. Not for my benefit, but for yours."
          - Joey Bear, in a txt exchange during game 2 of Spurs-Lakers; initiated by me, surprisingly enough

Not quite as concise as Charm's quote, but effective in its' own way. Thanks , I needed that. *hugs*

Even straight guys are good for a modicum of comfort and reassurance, in their own emotionally muffled, straightforward way.


"gudam.hope u slptwl.may ur b gr8 n fulfilng.dnt s3s urslf mch.eat properly.wagmo hayaang mabasa pawis likod mo.tkcre.God bls ur osam heart."

I got this text message from a guy who is trying to court me (and is SO doing a bad job of trying to hide it, "friends" lang daw. That kinda annoys me. If you want to court me, just SAY so na lang, if you're going to be THAT bad about hiding it anyway.) Even if he was cute (which he really, really isn't) I would have to reject him on the basis of his horribly, horribly mangled text-speak which is atrocious even by Pinoy standards. I'm an english nazi, so I fear I would be forced to murder him after just a week of having to read those things.

Rejection sucks and really hurts, I know; so I've tried to be polite and let him down easy (the ever-popular "I'll text you na lang" line) but it looks like I'll have to be more firm and ignore him completely. It's just that this whole line of conversation TOTALLY skeeves me out: telling me to eat well and keep the sweat of my back? What, he's got daddy issues or something? *shudder* No, no, no no no.

And what's an "osam heart", anyway? What does Rosanna Roces have to do with me?

Wednesday, May 05, 2004


FPJ's stated goals for the first one hunderd days if elected are 1) Lasting Peace (presumably with the terrorists) 2) Permanent Employment and 3) Lower prices for medicines.

These are all utopian promises that somehopw imply that his opponents do not give one fig about these goals, COULD have done it, but chose not to. FPJ, your savior on the other hand, will bear down and do it in 100 days, accomplishing goals in 3 months what NO government in the history of mankind has been able to achieve, ever.

It's all just promises of what everyone wants to hear, with no real plans offered of how to get there. All his naivete and pilitical inexperience is glarinly encapsulated in that one ad. How can anyone who listens to his ad actually CONSIDER voting for him?? It's like a Simpsons episode come to life, with Mr. Burns running all over again. Except that the stakes this time are deadly serious.

But my disgust for him PALES in comparison with Miriam Defensor Santiago, whose latest campaign ad uses her DEAD SON who killed himself as political ammunition. She dedicates her campaign to him, promising to alleviate the conditions that led to his suicide if elected. Like the kid didn't kill himself probably as a result of his shrewish mother's pressure on him.

Son kills himself because ambitious mother can't deal with the shame of a son who couldn't get into the college she went to, and after a brief period of very public (and blame shifting) mourning, she fucking USES it to try and help get herself elected. There. Are. No. Words.

If there is a God, there is a special place in hell reserved for this woman.

Sunday, May 02, 2004

Barenaked Ladies

The bravest thing I've ever done
Was to run away and hide
But not this time
Not this time

And the weakest thing I've ever done
Was to stay right by your side
Just like this time
And every time

I couldn't tell you I was happy you were gone
So I lied and said that I missed you
When we were apart

I couldn't tell you so I had to lead you on
But I didn't mean to break your heart

And if I seem distracted
Like my mind's somewhere else
That's because it's true
Yes it's true

It's this stupid pride
That makes me feel
Like I have to follow through
Even half-assedly loving you

Why must I always speak in terms of cowardice?
When I guess I just should have just come out and told you
Right from the start

Why must I always tell you all I want is this?
I guess 'cause I didn't mean to break your heart

And you said:

"What'd you think that I was gonna do
Curl up and die just because of you?
I'm not that weak you know

What'd you think that I was gonna do
Try to make you love me as much as I love you?
How could you be so low?

You arrogant man
What do you think I am?
My heart will be fine
Just stop wasting my time."

And now I know that you will be okay
And that I've got what I want
And that's rid of you

And it's not 'cause I'll be missing you
That makes me fall apart
It's just that I didn't mean to break
No I didn't mean to break

No I didn't mean to break your heart.


Got this off Nikka:

1.Go into your LJ's archives.
2.Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3.Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4.Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.

"As always, I have no expectations."

I WISH. I'd probably be a lot happier if I was.

Saturday, May 01, 2004


ME: I checked yout your friendster account from the email you gave me. It says your in a relationship na pala?...

GUY: Lies, all lies. Just to make myself more marketable.

ME: Uhm.. wouldn't that make you LESS marketable by effectively taking you off the table?

GUY: But seriously, it's just to keep the ugly ones from sending messages. [at least I know he's not lacking in self-esteem there... -- ian ]

ME: But wouldn't that keep some pretty ones from sending you messages as well?

GUY: The pretty ones have the confidence to not be discouraged. [So in his universe, "Pretty" and "Confident" equals "People who think nothing of stealing another person's lover". -- ian ]

ME: I guess I must not be pretty enough for you then. Seeya.

GUY: No wait, let's chat some more! Where were we?....

*closes chat session*

Lovely. Absolutely Lovely. I wonder why I don't chat more often.


In a move that is several MONTHS overdue, am FINALLY reformatting my PC today.

It's been long enough, plus I need to get some upgrades for it as well: New hard disk, replacement cable for the cable modem, and a USB port ("You don't have a USB port????" everyone exclaims. Yeah, I know. Shuttie.)

So anyway, will be undergoing the hell that is reformatting, and will in most likelihood return to the PC store at least ONCE because there is something that went wrong. But I'll finally be doing it today, and if the blog goes silent for a few days, that's the reason. But yun, I'll be reformatting the computer today!!!

Unless of course, the shop is closed or filled up with orders for the day, in which case it will have to be put off for another time.


***Warning: Self-Pity Alert!***

....and people who are getting married. And people who are PLANNING to get married. Last night I attended the wedding of a college friend. It was held in Ayala Alabang, a subdivision so fricking HUGE that it should be a city in itself. (Seriously, we must have been driving for more than 15 minutes inside the compound before finally reaching the church. How BIG is that place?)

You could tell that it was an ALABANG church from the huge, intricately designed altar, the cavernous structure which was fully air-conditioned. No sweating for THESE folks! The ceremony itself was a lovely affair, capped off with a twist where instead of rice, the guests being given either flower petals to throw instead of rice and tiny bottles of bubble mix with which to blow bubbles with (surprisingly enough, I was NOT given the bubbles). As the newlyweds exited the church, sparkler-type fireworks were ignited on either side of the couple as they walked out to the crowd, in a Goldberg-esque fashion. Since the groom was a huge wrestling geek like myself the similarity may have been more than coincidental.

The reception was conducted in the Palms Country Club in Filinvest, where there were unfortunately more people invited than the venue had capacity for. The groom had intimated to us a few weeks back how difficult it was to get the invite list down to a manageable size because no matter how small you want it to be the list just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

As we were eating (standing on the balcony, among the non-VIPs) the topic of marriage naturally came up, and I discovered that another one of my old college friends, a very sweet and pretty girl, who is one of the sweetest and kindest people I know who I actually had a non-crush on back then (as in: I felt that I SHOULD have been attracted to her, but I simply wasn't), was also getting married this month on the 22nd. She and her fiance had been dating for 10 years before getting engaged, to which I can only commend them as at least they have a BIT of security that they know they can make it long term more than most.

As opposed to the bride and groom: it turns out the bride was my friend's high school girlfriend, his very first. According to him, they were "awful" together, fought all the time and did not end well. They broke up, they both lived their own lives, falling in and out of love with other people. Somewhere along the way they reconnected, VERY slowly becoming friends again. The one night she just asked him out, and since my friend had just gone through a series of bad blind dates, he thought "Why hell not?" and agreed. A month after that, they were engaged, and here we were.

It's stories like that about both my friends, and hearing about others discussing their own wedding plans, it served to remind me about my own state of being; how so FAR I am from ever reaching that level. I don't have anyone I'm in a committed relationship with. I'm not SEEING anyone in order to evaluate same. Hell, I don't think I'm even quite ready yet emotionally to be SEEING people at all.

On a larger scale, the wedding also served to remind me of the bitter realities regarding the acceptance of gay marriage here. Even IF (a huge, huge IF) I actually had someone who I was willing to marry, I know that I could never have that type of ceremony. Not in this country anyway.

Standing inside the church, witnessing the ceremony, I could almost hear the voice of the Catholic church in my head: Yes, it's very beautiful, isn't it? And it's not for you. It HURTS, seeing what is beyond my reach right there in front of me. The joy and wonder of declaring the love you share to your family and close friends? One of the greatest things in the world. And I can never have that.


Because, according to certain politicians and religious leaders, my being able to get married would destabilize the very "institution of marriage". Apparently (the way I understand it anyway) a spate of gay men promising to love each other for life will lead to straights abandoning marriage altogether because it's tainted now. Or something. Whatever. One could go insane trying to figure that one out.

Which is why this particular issue, more than any other, I think makes me so angry at organized religion and homophobes. I just want to ask them, face to face: How does MY happiness hurt YOU?

I am so far away from that level of happiness. LIGHT YEARS. The fact that I'm actually WRITING this is proof enough. (One sure sign I'll know I'll have healed is when I can witness the true happiness of my friends and feel nothing but joy for them). I KNOW this is a horribly self-centered take on things, and believe me, I'm not proud for feeling this way, but there it is.

I've never felt so alone on so many different levels as I do right now.

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