Monday, June 28, 2004


Found this while bloghopping. Starts out like one of those standard pseudo-psych thingies, but then... well, see for yourself.

Psychologists have discovered that the manner in which people eat Oreo cookies provides great insight into their personalities. Choose which method best describes your favorite method of eating Oreos:

1. The whole thing all at once.
2. One bite at a time
3. Slow and methodical nibbles examining the results of each bite afterwards.
4. In little feverous nibbles.
5. Dunked in some liquid (milk, coffee...).
6. Twisted apart, the inside, then the cookie.
7. Twisted apart, the inside, and toss the cookie.
8. Just the cookie, not the inside.
9. I just like to lick them, not eat them.
10. I don't have a favorite way because I don't like Oreo.

Your Personality:

1. The whole thing.
This means you consume life with abandon, you are fun to be with,exciting, carefree with some hint of recklessness. You are totally irresponsible. No one should trust you with their children.

2. One bite at a time.
You are lucky to be one of the 5.4 billion other people who eat their Oreos this very same way. Just like them, you lack imagination, but that's okay, not to worry, you're normal.

3. Slow and Methodical.
You follow the rules. You're very tidy and orderly. You're very meticulous in every detail with every thing you do to the point of being anal retentive and irritating to others. Stay out of the fast lane if you're only going to go the speed limit.

4. Feverous Nibbles.
Your boss likes you because you get your work done quickly. You always have a million things to do and never enough time to do them. Mental breakdowns and suicides run in your family. Valium and Ritalin would do you good.

5. Dunked.
Every one likes you because you are always up beat. You like to sugar coat unpleasant experiences and rationalize bad situations into good ones. You are in total denial about the shambles you call a life. You have a propensity towards narcotic addiction.

6. Twisted apart, the inside, and then the cookie.
You have a highly curious nature. You take pleasure in breaking things apart to find out how they work, though not always able to put them back together, so you destroy all the evidence of your activities. You deny your involvement when things go wrong. You are a compulsive liar and exhibit deviant, if not criminal, behavior.

7. Twisted apart, the inside, and then toss the cookie.
You are good at business and take risk that pay off. You take what you want and throw the rest away. You are greedy, selfish, mean,and lack feelings for others. You should be ashamed of yourself. But that's ok, you don't care, you got yours.

8. Just the cookie, not the inside.
You enjoy pain.

9. I just like to lick them, not eat them
Stay away from small furry animals and seek professional medical help - immediately.

10. I don't have a favorite way, I don't like Oreo cookies.
You probably come from a rich family, and like to wear nice things,and go to up-scale restaurants. You are particular and fussy about the things you buy, own, and wear. Things have to be just right. You like to be pampered. You are a prima donna. There's just no pleasing you.


For those of you who haven't been up to date with what's been going on with me, a year ago I stopped going to church as my own form of protest to disagree on the Pope's stand on certain issues. I would be lying if I said that part of the reason wasn't so I could spend more time with my now-ex.

Without getting into specifics, let's just say that in the course of hoping certain things were legit, I ended up making a promise to The Man Upstairs that if things went my way, I would start going to mass again. (Hey, don't knock it, it worked )

Needless to say, since two sundays ago I have been going to church again. Even in the Thing That I Prayed For doesn't pan out, I have every intention of fulfilling my promise to keep going to church, because those were the terms that I came up with when I made my bargain with God, and I am nothing if not a man of my word.

When I was in church, I was in a choir called Musicapella. A damn good one, if I do say so myself. But it was marred with petty politics and intrigas which quickly annoyed me, addition to the choirmaster having serious anger management issues. For those reasons, I decided to leave the choir when I left the church. I didn’t burn any bridges mind you, but I didn’t leave on the best of terms either. By the time I finally decided to leave, I had seriously lost interest within the group and it was showing in my performances.

So it was with some trepidation that I went back, I wanted to sing again. I was thankful for the healing that had occurred within the past 6 months, and the blessings that had come to me in the past 30 days (certain encounters, chance meetings, and phone numbers that were freely given and turned out to be legit, etc...) I was more than a little anxious over whether or not they would welcome me back.

It turned out I had nothing to worry about. When they saw me, their faces brightened up. One of their main bass voices had to leave for a job, and they needed another one badly. But more importantly, they seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and truth be told, I missed them. They welcomed me back with open arms and not a word was said about how I left, only if I was back for good. I quickly moved up to my usual post in between Raffy the king bass and Aries the junior bass.

It felt good, singing up there. It just seemed to fall in line with the current theme of my life of going back to my center and rediscovering the person that I was. I was a little rusty at first, a few off notes here and there; but the songs and the melodies all came back to me as if I had never left. As I stood there singing the hymns, feeling the release, the connection and just that sense that things were the way they were supposed to be, there were some things that I decided about myself right there and then:

1) Family comes FIRST. Even if I ever get into another relationship, I will never again skip sunday mass with my family for a mere boyfriend, no matter HOW hot he is. If for some reason I am not able to attend, I will make up for it ASAP. Lovers will come and go, but family are the ones who stick by you and pick up the pieces after you get dumped by the boyfriends you originally ditched them for. My family will ALWAYS be there for me, and I’d better learn to start fucking appreciating that.

2) I am, and have always been a spiritual person. The church (or more specifically, certain mortals WITHIN the church) will never see eye-to-eye with me on certain positions, but I will never let my qualms over who wears the pontiff’s hat on Earth disrupt my own relationship with God. Say what you will about the church, and its’ sometimes downright archaic points of view, but spirituality provides a center and moral compass. It seems to me the ones who DON'T possess a spirituality of some sort are the ones who aren't able to commit into lasting relationships. With nothing for them to tether themselves to, they spend their lives just drifting; always looking for something but unable to find it, ultimately alone and unhappy.

3) Finally, I will never, ever, ever change just for the sake of another man. ESPECIALLY if that change only comes from MY direction. I've already gone through it once under the erroneous belief that it was love; hoping that the other would appreciate it and ultimately reciprocate. Looking back on it, I chalk it up as a Learning Experience as a result of which I now know enough not to mistake self-actualization for just plain SELFISHNESS. Change can and should occur within the confines of a relationship, but it must be mutual, with BOTH parties offering equal wilingness to do so. I will NEVER lose myself simply to please my lover ever again.

The more time passes, the more my entire relationship with nelson feels like a bad dream that I've finally woken up from.

And that's a good thing.

Sunday, June 27, 2004


It be so eeeeeeeeeeeeevil to book Rivermaya and Bamboo together in a club on one night, and Cambio and The Mongols on another. The resulting production would be called "WHEN EXES REUNITE!!"

Entrance to the show would be free. Tickets to the band dressing room would be P250 apiece.

Alanis Morissette

I had no choice
but to hear you
You stated your case
time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like
I'm a princess
I'm not used to
liking that
You ask how my day was

You've already won me over in spite of me
Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

Your love is thick
and it swallowed me whole
You're so much braver
than I gave you credit for
That's not lip service

You are the bearer
of unconditional things
You held your breath
and the door for me
Thanks for your patience

You're the best listener
that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long

I've never felt
this healthy before
I've never wanted
something rational

I am aware now
I am aware now.


Unfinished lines are in english. Anyone who has any comments/assistance to offer would be appreciated, as always.

Ain Carandang

[stanza 1]
I thought that being alone was something I was going to have to get used to first
Before I’d be ready to trust
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t make the same mistake
And let myself fall too fast

But here I am
Willing to risk it all once again
On nothing more than a look and your eyes and your smile
And the rush that you make me feel

Isip ko nalilito
Hindi ko insahan ‘to

Di alam kung nagkataon lang
O itinadhana galing sa itaas
Di handa sa pagdating ng kay bigla
Pero salamat sa iyong pagdatal

Sa wakas ako ay ang wagi
Di mapigil ang aking ngiti
Lumulutang aking sarili
Sa kalawakan

Ang iyong kamay nananabik
Sa pagdampi ng iyong halik
At ayoko pang bumalik
Dun sa lupa
Huwag muna

[stanza 2]
I was drawn to you from across the room
Standing out like a supernova among the stars
No words were spoken just the look in your eye
And now I’m lost in you

All of my wounds were healed
You made everything new again
I’m invigorated can see all the possibilities
And I’m ready to try again

Wala man lang na babala
Bigla na lang nandito ka

[prechorus 2]
Ewan ko saan putungo 'to
Pero handa ako sa pagkatuklas
Kailan pa ba ako naging ganitong saya
Isisigaw ko 'to na pagkalakas

Sa wakas ako ay ang wagi
Di mapigil ang aking ngiti
Lumulutang aking sarili
Sa kalawakan

Ang iyong kamay nananabik
Sa pagdampi ng iyong halik
At ayoko pang bumalik
Dun sa lupa
Huwag muna

At ayaw ko pa ang bumalik,
Di na kailangang bumalik
Huwag na tayong babalik
Sa lupa
Irog, huwag na.


”It is a writer, with nothing left that he knows how to say.
It is an artist, and fingers that will never catch the vision”
- Neil Gaiman, 15 portraits of Despair

All those years of coasting through my college kasaysayan classes, barely squeezing past my high school tagalog classes have finally caught up with me. Baci Café will be closing on June 30 and will be having their last ever One Mic Stand open mic. To comemorate their last night in business I wanted to finish Wagi and debut it there.

The problem is, I am currently stuck on the stanzas. I’ve gotten lots of help with the chorus and prechorus from Carver Carl and Evil Dex, but the stanzas are for the moment still in english. I’ve already sent copies out to the aforementioned twosome for help, and as helpful as Carl and Dex are, and I have no doubt they’ll probably be able to work magic with what I’ve given them, I don’t want to always have to run to them every time I come up with something, and I loathe the idea of having to depend on someone else for something this personal.

I’ve TRIED to do translate it on my own with the help of my english-to-tagalog dictionary, but that’s missing the whole POINT of writing in tagalog, which has such wonderfully lyrical words that have no equivalent in english. (example: Hagkan) Writing in English first and translating it into Tagalog means I’m missing out on a lot of what is beautiful about the native tongue, which truly is the language of poets. I tried doing it, and the results were HORRIBLE.

The Songwriter/poet’s grasp of the language should be greater than the layman in order to come up with concepts and connections not normally thought of. I have no doubts as to my proficiency in English (if anything, I may be a little TOO in love with it as I tend to go on and on and on re: piling on the clever lyrics) but with tagalog, I would rate my mastery of it probably nothing beyond the grade 6 level, and I’m not even kidding on that one.

It’s so goddamn FRUSTRATING. I want to write this song, I want it to be GOOD. But it is quite simply, beyond my current capabilities, and it drives me NUTS. I’ve decided that my new project in life is to cultivate a mastery of tagalog. I WANT to write in my native tongue. I WANT to be able to write songs that touch the masses when and if I want to. I don’t want to be an elitist composer, which I notice many of our local rock acts to be (and no, I’m not naming names) Tagalog is a beautiful language to work in, and as a songwriter and as a Filipino, I SHOULD be able to do this, dammit.

First off tomorrow, I am buying the biggest, most comprehensive Tagalog-English dictionary I can find. In addition to that, I’ll be looking for a rhyming dictionary (as well both in english and tagalog, if it’s possible). I may even start doing blog entries in tagalog just to hone my skills.

This is my new goal, and by god I’m going to accomplish it.


Got this off Dexter:

Your Name: Jose Feliciano Clara Carandang
Your Date of Birth: 30/05/1975
Your Question or Information: Will I be successful in love?


Algiz - Protection, fortunate influences, fate on your side, victory and success, good luck and personal strength.


Tir - Victory, leadership, success over other competitors, increase in finances, virility and passion (especially for men).


Jera - Harvesting tangible results from efforts already sown, fertility, culmination of events, abundance.

Cast the runes here:
Rune Caster
by [info]brindy

Oh lordy, how I hope that you're right....

Monday, June 21, 2004


Last Friday, I attended my very first auction. The E-Square commercial complex along Ortigas. Despite being a very nicely constructed complex and being open for more than a year, it has been a commercial wasteland due to it’s unstrategic location (near the end of Ortigas, with no real way to turn back towards EDSA). It boasted of 4 restaurants: Satay Curry, Aku, China Club and Blue bacon, all of which were closing down and auctioning off their equipment.

As a resaturant owner and manager myself, my heart went out to the owners of the respective establishments, because they really WERE nice places, they just never had a chance because of circumstances beyond their control. I view it as a cautionary tale and a reaffirmation of that old adage: The first three things you take care of first when you start a business is: 1) Location, 2) Location, and 3) LOCATION.

I saw a painted banner for the auction on my way to work the beginning of the week, and I decided to give it a look-see, as I have heard that auctions are actually opportunities to find some very good bargains. Plus, I had never been to one before, so it would be interesting to see how different an actual auction would be from what I have envisioned.

And what did I discover? For one thing, the real thing is a lot more BORING. There were over 900 individual things for auction (called 'lots') and it crawls at a pace of around 100 lots an hour (if you’re lucky). To get a feel for how long the thing went, it started at 9 am in the morning, I periodically went back to the auction throughout the day to catch the few items I was intereted in bidding, and by 6:30 pm they were still only at lot #700. I brought Sanya’s copy of High Fidelity that she lent me to keep myself occupied in between lots (thanks gorgeous!), and by the end of it I had finished over three-fourths of the book before finally going home at 7 because I had Cambio’s album launch at Galleria to attend.

Other revelations: The auctioneer is just as fast as you hear them on TV, a rapidfire delivery (one difference though was that he didn’t do the “going once… going twice…” routine) It’s entertaining, but honestly, after the second hour you start to tune him out. I scanned through the list of things they had on the block, and they weren’t kidding about the “everything must go” part. From fixtures like tables & chairs to bowls and plates to stoves and metal hoods to toilet fixtures and bottles of A1 Steak Sauce were all being put up for bid.

There were some things that held my interest, a combination fryer/griller for instance; but the mistake that I made was that I had no idea what the going price of such a machine was on the outside, so I had no idea what was a proper bid, how much to value a used one, or at how much to even start. For all I knew the price I would bid on would be just a little less of what the cost would be for a new one.

So, that was my first auction lesson: Know the prices of the items you plan to bid on. That way you have a gauge of up to how much they are worth and how much you are willing to spend. Apart from that, there were some other tidbits I gleaned that should help me survive my next auction:

- The Majority of the people bidding usually all have the same price in their mind of the maximum bid that they are willing to pay for a given item. The key then to a successful bid is to be the one that bids on that ‘final’ price; and make sure that you get yourself into a position to do so. For example, if the final price is P800, and the increments are raised by P100, you want to be bidding on the even-numbered prices so that you’ll be able to bid on the final price, instead of the next-to-the-last price.

- The auctioneer is NOT an employee, he is your ENEMY. Your goal is to save money by buying something off cheap, HIS sole purpose in life is to drive the price up as high as possible (and get the best commission). Your relationship is adversarial, and you should never, ever forget it. To wit; one of the few items I planned to bid on was a gorgeous set of 7 wine-goblet type ice cream dishes, that I had personally appraised at P500.

I bided my time, until the lot number finally came out. Since I my price was P500, I would be bidding on the odd prices, starting from P100, which I raised my hand on. Someone else bid at P200, I raised my hand at three, and as I expected, someone else raised at four. When the auctioneer asked for P500, I immediately struck and raised my paddle before anyone else. The Auctioneer asked if anyone else wanted them at P600, and the crowd was silent. I sat there in victory, pleased that my well-planned stratagem had succeeded: I had correctly pegged the ‘break price’ and no one was willing to go higher, depite the auctioneer’s best efforts to do otherwise. Those goblets were mine.

And then, THIS happened:

AUCTIONEER: Do I hear P600? Does anyone want to make a bid for P600? P600?

*crowd: silent*

ME: *smug* Hah.

AUCTIONEER: P550, do I hear P550?

*another person raises hand*


ME: What the fuck?!?

I had to fight the compulsion to bid back at P600, but it was way more than what I personally believed they were worth (at that price, I might as well buy brand new goblets) but the urge was definitely there to fight for MY glasses -- screw the cost! -- which I now realize is the appeal of putting stuff up for auction as opposed to say, taking out an ad in Buy and Sell. Sometimes, you can get so caught up in the moment of being competitive and fighting for the item you bid on (how DARE someone else bid on MY item??) that the actual item in question becomes secondary; at that point it's all about WINNING. I had to console myself with the (very petty) knowledge that the buyer who took the glasses home probably overpaid.

I didn’t come out with anything, but all things considered it was very informative, and I am armed with more knowledge of what I should have beforehand to fare much better at my next auction: Knowledge of what items are on the block, the market price of said items, and the ‘break price’ of how much I am willing to bid on them.

Plus a taser to incapacitate the auctioneer the next time he tries to screw over my bid.


Today is one of those days where I simply have not been able to get myself out of neutral. Last night I had a nice chat with Nikka at around 11 for about an hour. After she logged off to go to bed I found myself surfing a little more before finally going off to do the same.

The wierd thing was that although I didn't have any of my usual stimulants like coffee or the like, I simply COULD NOT get to sleep. I must have tossed and turned for more than an hour, before finally dozing off at 3. Woke up at 7 from my alarm, which is far less than the minimum 6 hours I need (honestly, I've tried to sleep for the standard 8, but after 6 hours I'm just lying there in bed with my eyes open).

The lack of sleep has zapped my strength for the whole day. Work was fine; we had a better-than-average take for lunch, and I made a new flavor of ice cream swirling together Peanut Butter Ice cream and Dark Chocolate ice cream. I originally planned to use smooth peanut butter, but upon checking I discovered that I was already out, and the only thing I had was a super chunky Honey Roasted Skippy. It irked me a bit as I envisioned this particular flavor to be a smooth ice cream and the nuts kind of ruined that.

Then, almost as a last minute flash of insipration, as the ice cream was almost done mixing in the machine, I decided to go chunky all the way by chopping up some semisweet chocolate chunks to throw in the dark chocolate portion of the ice cream. I even had the perfect name for it now: Chunky Choco Peanut Butter. (Alliteration is my friend) Sampled it this morning, and the flavors mixed well. Visually it looked gorgeous; the colors contrasted each other nicely. I am quite proud of this new flavor.

I was planning to work out this morning as my energy level is usually highest when I wake up and I find myself scrambling for the rest of the day, but this morning with just 4 hours sleep I was just in a state of total BLEH. As soon as the lunch hour rush was over I drove home and snoozed for an hour.

Woke up sort of refreshed but still nowhere near the zip required to go work out today, so I guess it will be a tuesday morning workout for me. Which is just as well, since I am still walking funny from my encounter with a Mechanical Bull yesterday (will blog about that in a future post).

Am just a big old lump today, starting from the bad night's sleep and things just kind of escalated from there. I don't feel BAD about it per se, nor do I have any real reason to be, but the non-accomplishment of this day is something that I do wish didn't have to happen. On the bright side (I guess) I just don't have the energy to care about it.

And what WAS the reason I couldn't sleep? Basically my mind was still buzzing over what I have sworn to Nikka that I would not do. I realize that until I get something more to work on, all this is is just Infatuation. But that fact was little consolation last night, and it wasn't even VOLUNTARY this time.

Sorry Nikka, but it looks like I've got it BAD.

Sunday, June 20, 2004


After more than 10 years on hiatus, Wilson Phillips, one of my favorite artists ever, are back with a new album. They had a monster debut with their self titled album, which provided hit after hit and was the rarest of animals; the album na walang tapon. "Hold On" still ranks as one of my all-time favorite songs from both a nostalgia perspective and from the sheer sweetness of their blended voices.

Then they released their sophomore effort Shadows and Light which was a commercial bomb, probably made more notable in comparison to the astounding success of the first one. It was an okay album, definitely not as catchy as the first, but hardly worthy of being the career-killing missle that it was.

They quickly broke up and tried solo careers, the Wilson sisters recording an album, Chyna Phillips trying to go for the rocker chick route, never really matching the success they had as a trio.

And now, they've finally reunited. California is a gem of an album consisting of Beach Boy covers (Carnie and Wendy Wilson are the daughters of Brian Wilson) and everything I loved about the group; -- the intertwining melodies, the distinct voices of all three women, both on their own and in glorious harmony -- are all back.

I didn't really expect it to be released here due to their low-profile status, but when I was in Eastwood last saturday night attending Fete De La Musique, while browsing in Odyssey, I saw the album much to my surprise and picked it up immediately which I almost NEVER do anymore; because due to a string of disappointing purchases, my CD decisions are now always thought through carefully before finally deciding to buy.

I have it playing on my CD player right now, and can I just say how fricking wonderful it feels? Warm memories of nostalgia from the 90s are flooding through my body like some sort of natural narcotic, and their voices are pure ear candy; just as sweet as ever. I'm quite aware that they're are not exactly the coolest group to like, but I love them so much I don't care. With the current theme that my life is playing out right now of Going Back To My Center, listening to all new material from them feels really good.

(Postscript: Remember Carnie, the "Fat One" from the group? She's the blonde in the middle. I'm not an advocate of extreme surgical procedures for weight loss, but can I just say: WOW.)

Friday, June 18, 2004


"Gay Boyfriend"

Click it and watch the glory. Song of the year material ito!!

Wednesday, June 16, 2004


No, that's not a typo. Am trying something new in the eternal search for a Good Stage Name. I have misstyped "Ian" and "Ain" several times, and visually it doesn't look too bad. There are too many Ian's in the rock circle as it is (CHeeSe's Ian Tayao, Chocolate Beef's Ian Sta. Maria). Maybe it's one of those little happy accidents that turn out giving you some of your best ideas.

The clincher was watching USA Network's Soundtrack channel show this morning, where they played Sting and Alison Krauss's collaboration for the Cold Mountain soundtrack "Ain True Love", an absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking tune.

I went back to 'Carandang' instead of 'Feliciano' as a surname because with Ain, I have one less syllable and it actually rolls better with the former. And one of the lesser-known advantages of going with an uncommon name like "Ain" is that, like Stephin (Merritt, of The Magnetic Fields), it makes web searches that much easier as well. I haven't fully decided yet either way, but I have to admit I'm far more comfortable with sticking to my real surname than changing it, which is just a little TOO showbiz-ey for me.

Finally, I looked up "Ain" in dictionary.com to get the official definition, and this is what turned up:

adj : belonging to or on behalf of a specified person (especially yourself)

Belonging to yourself. Being a part of something bigger. Belonging to someone else just as that person also belongs to you. Not the most progressive of sentiments in these times, but anyone who even has just a passing familiarity with me knows how I feel about that sort of thing. I like feel of the word's meaning around my shoulders.

written and performed by Ain Carandang.



Hmmm.... when I whine openly to the universe, I'm really not used to having my complaints answered, or so quickly.

Everything that I WISHED happened yesteday but didn't, went and happened today, and then some. First off, I finally got to go to the gym to work out some of my stress and tension. Then, the lunch hour take from the shop was 50% more than yesterday's disappointing haul. In the afternoon, I finally got to chat with Nic again (yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayy!!) as well as Sanya, burning up an hour and a half that went by so fast I couldn't believe the clock when we were done. Snaps to the Fabulous Threesome!!

In the evening, the entire Carandang brood went out to Teriyaki Boy for dinner (which is slowly becoming a bit of family tradition) where I had an absolutely glorious sushi feast consisting of California maki, an unagi temaki, a tempura roll, Spicy salmon Gunkan, Kani salad inari, and salmon sashimi. As I told my mom earlier today, I can never get tired of Japanese food.

And finally, ... YES, Dr. G. DID text me back, with a complete sentence and fully formed words to boot!! I'm not sharing the details here, but I WILL say that the subtext I had on my message to him was that if he wasn't interested, all he had to do was not reply, but he DID, so...... *GREAT BIG GOOFY GRIN* I couldn't stop smiling for hours after getting that text.

That alone would have been enough to make my day, but it felt like the universe was righting everything that went wrong the previous day. The only thing missing to make it a complete opposite of yesterday is that I come up with a song.

Oh, wait:

Ain Carandang

Sa wakas ako ay ang wagi
Di mapigil ang aking ngiti
Lumulutang aking sarili
Sa Kalawakan

Mo'ng aking kamay nananabik
Sa pagdampi ng iyong halik
At ayoko pa ng bumalik
Doon sa lupa
‘Wag muna

NOTE: I KNOW that I am sucky at tagalog and that there are probably at least 5 grammatical errors here. I implore and invite you all to point them out to me in the comments box so I can fix it and make it better. Thank you.

Okay, NOW it's a perfect day.


Tuesday, June 15, 2004


It's like yesterday
I didn't even know your name
Now today
You're always on my mind
I never could have predicted that I feel this way

You are beautiful surprise
Intoxicated every time I hear your voice
You've got me on a natural high
It's almost like I didn't even have a choice
You are a beautiful surprise

Whatever it is you came to teach me
I am here to learn it cause
I believe that we are written in the stars
I don't know what the future holds

But I'm living in the moment
And I'm thankful for the man that you are, you are, you are
You are everything I ask for in my prayers
So I know my angels brought you to my life
Your energy is healing to my soul

You are a beautiful surprise
You are an inspiration to my life
You are the reason why I smile
You are a beautiful surprise


I woke up this morning you were the first thing on my mind
I don't know were it came from all I know is I need you in my life, yeah
You make me feel like I can be a better woman
If you just say you wanna take this friendship to another place

Can I walk with you through your life?
Can I lay with you as your wife?
Can I be your friend 'till the end?
Can I walk with you through your life?

You've got me wondering if you know that I am wondering about you
This feeling is so strong that I can't imagine you're not feeling it too
You've known me long enough to trust that I want what's best for you
If you want to be happy then I am the one that you should give your heart to

Now everyday ain't gonna be like the summers day
Being in love it really ain't like the movies screen
But I can tell you all the drama aside
You and I
Can find what the worlds been looking for forever
Friendship and love together

Can I walk with you through your life?
Can I lay with you as your wife?
Can I be your friend 'till the end?
Can I walk with you through your life?

Till the day that the world stops spinning
Till the day that my heart stops beating
Till the day that the birds no longer take flight
Till the moon is underwater

This is the moment I've been waiting for
You are everything I've been looking for
Creative intellectual

Can I walk with you through your life?


Yesterday I had one of those days that one rarely sees outside of poorly done sitcoms and Archie comics. Absolutely NOTHING went my way yesterday. The only thing missing was me walking on my own at the end of the day, head down, my hands in my pockets, saying out loud "At least this day can't get any worse!", at which point it would start to rain, and of course I would be with neither an umbrella or jacket.

Apart from Myles' birthday, yesterday was remarkable in that it was rife with disappointments coming at me from practically EVERY aspect of my life: from the professional, to the creative, to the romantic (that last one shouldn't be a surprise, I guess). What should have been an eventful day in several respects turned to be just one disappointment after another that had me bruised and weary by the end of the day.

No MAJOR tragedies mind you, more like mid-level failures and whatnot that I can live through easy. None of them were worth getting more than momentarily bummed about. But the fact that they ALL happened on the SAME day... well, that made things hit harder the 'Greater Than The Sum of its' Parts' way. Absolutely Nothing turned out the way I hoped it would.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I KNOW. I'm in total poor-me pity-party mode. But you know what? It's my blog and I don't care what anyone thinks. (Yeah, THAT'S how shitty I feel today. Am breaking my own self-imposed boundary of "being better than that". Deal with it.)

Hope today averages out some. Even in just ONE particular aspect sana. That would make up for a WEEK of days like this.

Monday, June 14, 2004


Look up the word "pogi" in the
Carandang-Jamito Diksyunaryo ng Katotohanan
and you will see this picture

Happy birthday to Myles. Sige na nga! Just for today, I will rein in my ego and say that You are the handsomest, smartest, most talented, sexiest, AND humblest of them all! And I just come second. A close second, an EXTREEEEMELY close second, but second nonetheless. I love yah, man!

(Phew!! Boy, it's a good thing birthdays only come once a year......)

Sunday, June 13, 2004

Sizzling Menu

First off, I’d like to apologize to everyone who’s been waiting for me to finish this particular post (all five of you). A combination of my natural procrastination, hardware problems plus a few other excuses have conspired to keep this post from being put up sooner, but as a reward for your patience and to make up for all your waiting, here is a huge ass entry with a ton of pictures! Good luck loading this page on a 56 kbps modem. Muhuhahahaha.

And now, without further ado….


Last year in an effort to placate my ex, who wasn’t comfortable in crowds, for a change I decided to make my birthday a small affair with just a select couple of friends in a restaurant instead of in the house. This year, being single again and rediscovering my center, I decided that I would go back to form and throw a big party, inviting as many friends as I could and having a fabulous time.

Inspired by how an acquantance planned his birthdays around themes, I decided that this party would have a theme: I would have all the staples of a traditional Filipino inuman: beer, barbecue, and sizzling dishes. When I relayed my plans to Nic thru email, she immediately coined the term Sizzling Summer Soiree which was so utterly perfect that I co-opted it right there and then as the official name.

I dedided that first off on the menu would be the venerable staple of all sizzling dishes: SISIG. Since neither our cook nor I didn’t really know how to cook sisig, I started doing research well in advance of my brithday, sometime around february. I sampled various sisigs from places like Dencio’s, Gerry’s Grill and Aysee’s -- no doubt doing my arteries and cholesterol level lasting damage in the process -- I did a bit of Paycheck-style reverse engineering to try and figure out what I liked about each one. Aysee’s rich buttery taste set their version apart, and what I liked the best about Dencio’s was the contrast between the rich creamy texture and the crunchy bits inside that felt like you were eating chicharon.

What we discovered was that Dencio’s put tiny bits of freshly cooked lechon kawali to give it that delicious crunch, and the creamy consistency came from fresh brain. For the spiciness level, there had to be a delicate blaance as it had to have enough of a kick to eat on its own, but not TOO spicy so as not to deter people from mixing their own combination of calamansi, soy sauce and hot sauce into it (a sisig ritual).

Along with the pork sisig I came up with a healthier alternative the vegetarians and those watching their blood pressure in the form of tuna sisig (canned tuna with chopped onions and sili, topped with a fresh egg for added creaminess). After doing some bar menu research we came up with sizzling hot dogs, sizzling mushrooms and sizzling squid. Add to that the always-ubiquitous Hotstix barbecue and lots and lots of beer, and this was shaping up to be the STRAIGHTEST party I had ever thrown.

I wondered, what else could I add to the party to make it a traditional Pinoy inuman? The answer: VIDEOKE. Go to any bar in the wee hours and you’ll hear old staples being butchered by drunken men. How better to fully complete the illusion theme of “Straight Guy Inuman" than with a videoke machine of my very own?

Since many of the ones who would be attending were rock stars, I found the notion of making these brilliant talented musicans sing in awkward, artificial conditions extremely amusing. The standards for scoring in these machines were always suspect, and what if the best singers among us fared the poorest? The idea gave me a pervese thrill, and I relished the challenge of trying to get all these rock stars to sing (and get photographic evidence). So I borrowed a videoke machine from Red, my buddy from business college, having secured permission months ago (can you tell I REALLY love to plan things out?).

So on the 29th, the big day had come: the cooks were ready as was the food, the vidoeke was conencted, sound system was a go, the beer was in the cooler with loads of ice, and I was ready to par-TAY. For that night, I was wearing my sparkly purple silk shirt (which I dubbed my “pimp shirt”) I bought in Bangkok that made me look like the Engineer in Miss Saigon.

Me helpfully getting some sisig off
Paul's ear (aren't I a good host?)

The very first to arrive were Nikka and Paul, and I had an absolutely lovely time talking to them. I adore all my friends, but I was grateful that it was these two that came first because this quirky pair do occupy a ‘favorite among favorites’ place in my chest. As soon as the rest of the guests started arriving I knew that I wouldn’t be able to spend much time talking with any one group on an extended basis so I was thankful that I was able to get some talk time with them before things got crowded. These two were there for me through the utter hell that was my breakup, and I know that no matter how far we may drift apart (they leave for Subic in August) we will always have a level of closeness simply not there among my other friends.

"Iaaaaan, what did you do?....."

Me & Joe

We snapped a couple of pictures, and were having a lovely conversation when Joe and then Sanya quickly arrived. Joe had a particular bad habit of missing my parties (actually, it only happened once, but I never let him live it down) so I was glad to see him. Sanya was looking utterly FABULOUS, back from Boracay and sporting a tan, plus this totally hot henna-glitter tattoo on her back.

me & sanya

Sanya's hot tattoo

By this time, more guests begin to arrive: friends from my business school years like Robin, Tricia and Creighton. The my band circle friends like former Fatal Posporo Donna and her hubby Mike Diez, both of whom now played for Mike’s band Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man. Donna was just radiant, as always, and -- from what I heard later that night -- caught the attention of at least one other guy (careful buddy, she’s married, and practically so are you! Hehe! But as I told you, it’s okay if all you do is *look*).

Me & Donna

BA friends

More BA friends

My parties ALWAYS ultimately end up dividing themselves among camps from 3 distinct periods in my life, with little cross-pollination. There was the BA crowd, the Fine Arts Crowd, and the Band Circle crowd. The fact that they didn’t really interact with each other used to bother me, but now I just let it go. I just flit inbetween groups like a good host, although I must concede the majority of my time is spent with the Band Circle and NikkaPaul table.

A reunion of the COOL members of the Powerpoets

A rare case of cross-pollination with
me, Kris (band circle) and Myles (FA circle)

Sadly, the Fine Arts crowd was the most under-represented that particular night; basically comprising just Myles (who brought his beautiful wife Ria and his equally beautiful daughter Milan) and Dexter. Diwa was sick with the flu, and fellow FA alum Jolyn couldn’t come because her boilet Karl was likewise ill. I was glad that Myles, my best friend from my entire stay at Fine Arts, came because we hadn’t seen each other in ages and he missed my Christmas party to boot.

Me, Ria & Milan

Me & Myles

Me getting Even

You know a sign of true friendship is when
2 people trust each other

Soon afterwards the beer started flowing and the music was playing and everyone was having a good time, which made me happy. It was such a joy, meeting old friends that I hadn’t been able to see in a long while. My mother has often asked why I bother throwing these parties for people I don’t see that often anymore, I tell her that that’s precisely the point, that it’s BECAUSE we don’t see each other anymore that special occasions like this are all the more important.

Huh? What?....

Me & Aia

Kris actin' flirty

Rock circle

For several months I had been in Recluse Mode since my breakup and not really in a mood to go out. I haven’t seen any gigs in a while, so it was good to see old band circle buddies like the itchyworms! Jugs and Jazz (with their respective partners CD and Nix), Kris (Cambio) and Vin (Twisted Halo) Dancel, Jason Caballa, Buddy Zabala and his lovely wife Earnest. Aia, from Imago who I consider my little sister showed up late, and I gave her the biggest hug when i saw her. Even Sugarfree frontman Ebe Dancel turned up, who incidentally has the same birthday as me (May 30), so it was like a double party for both of us. When the clock hit midnight everyone stopped to toast the both of us.

Kaberdey Ebe Dancel

"So that slot on Admit One Would make a GREAT gift....."

In Britain this would be an obscene gesture

Itchyworms' Jazz Nicholas and his son Keoni

Even Adam who was sick earlier showed up after all with Charmaine, which made my day. But the person I was MOST happy to see? Twisted Halo guitarist **JOEY ODULIO!** There were a lot of sparks going on between us last night, detailed by the following pictures. There’s always been this unpsoken chemistry and sexual tension between us (as the following pictures below will show), but as I’ve told Joey over and over, nothing can happen between us, no matter how much he wishes it were otherwise. I realize my Milkshake is hard to resist, but Joey? I’m sorry, but I only see you as a friend talaga. I hope that’s enough. You have to let me go and move on.

Joey looking pensive and wondering
when we can be alone together

Joey showing me which finger he'd like me to
use for later when he lets me enjoy his "gift"

Joey acting out because I wasn't paying
enough attention to him

Joey playfully "resisting" my advances.
(believe me the opposite was true later that night!....)

It wouldn't be one of my parties without my signature ice cream, and I wanted to test out my new twin mixer, which allowed me to freeze two batches at once and make double flavors. I made a batch of Kahlua Amaretto again, but this time each liquor getting it's own ice cream. Plus I debuted a brand new flavor that very night: a peanut butter and banana swirl that I dubbed the "Elvis Special"

Kris sampling the Kahlua Amaretto ice cream

Finally with everyone full and beginning to get tipsy, I decided to bring out the Vidoeke and announce the Challenge: the one who got the highest score would get a bottle of Goldschlager, a very strong, very sweet very POWERFUL (one shot was equal to 4 tequila shots, according to Charmaine) cinnamon shcnapps which had flakes of actual gold leaf in the drink. As expected, people were reluctant to sing at first, so I went for old-fashioned emotional manipulation by telling people that it was their gift to me. Donna, who already gave me a gift, god bless her, went first singing “Papa Don’t Preach” and things rolled on from there. Pretty soon, everyone was singing: solos, duets, group sings, with and without dancing.

the 4 divas

"Liiiiiivin' on a praaaaaayer!!" (and an untucked shirt)

Joe takes the mic

When Red lent me the vidoeke machine and mike, he also incuded a disc which I assumed held the songs. Little did I know the that the accompanying video (the images that gplay on the screen as the lyrics appera on the bottom) that he gave me was a soft-porn video of the Viva Hotbabes, frolicking around in various scenarios of toplessness, from running along a beach, to painting each other’s breasts inside a cabin. It proved to be very distracting to the men while singing (obviously, I had no such disavantage. Ha!). Even Aia shrieked in mock-horror by going “Ay, BOOBS!!” at the aforementioned breat-painting. All in all, it was a hysterical situation that only made the whiole night even more memorable.

Imago, Fatal Posporos and Least Complicated collaborate on a song

Kris takes the mic

Jugs and CD, the cutest couple of the night (inggit ako!)

The Dancels serenade each other

Even Jason, who people told me later than night apparently swore up and down that he was definitely not going to sing, got in on the act, belting out Soundgarden’s Black Hole Sun with Vin on backup. Later that night Vin told me that NEVER happens, and I should have gotten it on video. Alas, I neglected to even get a photo of Jason singing as by then I was quite soused and having too much fun to snap pictures.

Emote! Emote!!


One highlight(?) of the evening was Aia getting low score, (a paltry 85! Shockers!) despite flawlesly singing a pinoy classic in her beautiful voice. Seeing her average score led the crowd to chant "LUTO! LUTO!" Even Jason scored higher, leading him to exclaim “Mas magaling ako kay Aia!” which resulted in one of the biggest laughs of the night.

The karaoke champ!

Though many people tried, no one could match the high score set by itchyworm Jugs early in the night (97 points!) and he was ultimately he was awarded the gold-flaked drink flanked by a beaming CeeDee. We urged him to open it up before he left, and he aquiesced. After sampling just a bit of the powerful drink he said it was too sweet, since he was watching his sugar as an at-risk diabetic (as was I) so he reluctantly relinquished his prize which was gladly passed on to the rest of us.

The winner gets his prize

We all poured some of the gold-laced liquor into our glasses. It was syrupy sweet, with the taste of cinnamon, and you could feel the drink kick in almost immediately, giving everyone with a pleasant warm feeling, as Charmaine will attest. A few more songs were sung before finally calling it an night, sometime around 3 am. After dropping Evil Dex home, I finally crawled into bed at around 5 am, wired and exhausted, but happy.

A few days afterwards, I received nothing but rave reviews; and more than a few of my friends confessed that they came to the party originally not planning to stay long due to other engagements, but ended up staying the entire night because they were simply having too much fun.

You know how when you plan for something you always have to make allowances for Murphy’s Law and the inevitable screwup; and that you assume that things will never turn out as well as you want them to? Well, this party was EVERYTHING I had envisioned it to be.

All the things I had planned went off without a hitch and succeeded beyond my most optimistic expectations: I had my sizzling menu, I had my drunken singing rock stars, I had my karaoke challenge, I had my seduction of Joey, and everyone had tons of fun and already looking forward to my next party. I’m already running possible themes in my head for next year’s birthday (which my 30th, so it had BETTER be huge). This 29th was officially the BEST birthday party I’ve ever thrown. And my only regret is that some of you reading this couldn’t have been there.

But hey, there’s always next year.


If I were to go by the number of people who leave comments, my blog is only being read by a handful of people (Nic, Nikka, Sanya, Diwa, Charmaine and Evil Dex) which suits me just fine. This blog was never meant to be my window to the world.

There have been times when I have already had to restrict myself from writing something I wanted to say on my blog because it would have had something to do with one of the aforementioned friends who I know reads this journal (not saying WHO, of course...). Some of you may say "Hey, it's your blog, why should you give a damn what other people will think?" Well, because.... I've been raised better than that.

Any feelings I have that deal with a certain person, will and should be said to that person DIRECTLY, before I address it on this blog (if at all), otherwise I should just shut up and keep it to myself and my private, OFFLINE journal.

Anyway. Just a few days ago, I receive an email in my hotmail inbox from an unfamilar name, a student from the US who shares my lustful fixation on Sean Astin and found my blog through googling the phrase "Sean Astin flexing". Apparently, my March Sean Astin Post of Lust about the movie 50 First Dates headed the top of the list. I have since googled it up myself, and unfortunately it has moved a few spots down, but still most definitely in a prominent position. I complemented him on his excellent taste in men, and that was that.

I don't know if he's still reading my journal or not, but it got me wondering then: How many people are reading this webpage, people that I have never met or don't even know? Not counting blog-friends; how many people have stumbled onto this journal by simple blog-hopping and whatnot? I never really thought IMODO.COM would show up on any search result; certainly not one about Sean Astin FLEXING anyway.

I've already had one sighting that I know of, via Jason, who has only seen me on my blog, then recognized me in Makati (alas, he didn't say hi. Next time please do so, ok dude? :) ). How many people out there I don't even know exist have gotten to see my face thru my pictures on this blog and my friendster account? How many people have I passed on the street or in the mall with them doing a double take, going "Where have I SEEN that guy before?..." Yes, yes, it's all extremely narcissistic, but you know. It's ME. Duh.

Just goes to show: How many of you are out there?

Friday, June 11, 2004


It is the feeling that resides somewhere between your heart and your stomach, frequently commuting inbetween the two. If it were a flavor of ice cream, it would be made from a base of anxiety (it tastes minty) swirled with a ripple of euphoria, with just a sprinkling of insecurity for texture.

It is the smile hiding in the foundation on your face, underlying any other emotion you have, a huge grin ready to break out at the smallest thing –- a monosyllabic text message, an utterly improbable daydream about flying to Canada and getting married, planning and re-planning conversations in your head about how best to ask him out for coffee and cheesecake (“I know the BEST little place!...”), imagining how it would feel to kiss those lips -- and hijack your face by assimilating whatever expression you had at the time, often at awkward moments, and in front of company.

It is the insomnia that leads to sleepless nights, and continuously checking friendster, and to you to holding your breath whenever you open up your email or text inbox, hoping -- nay, PRAYING -- to see his name there.

It is the desperation that leads to you making bargains with God relinquishing previously closely-held beliefs. Have I mentioned that I will start going to church every Sunday again?

It is the motivation that makes losing weight easier than the world’s most effective physical trainer or motivational tape/book/website. Fasting and dieting become as easy as breathing as you simply have no DESIRE to eat, as your mind is too busy thinking about the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles to remember to do so. Formerly effective self-excuses not to work out like “I’m tired, I don’t feel like it, I’ll work out tomorrow” are now easily trumped by “I have to look good for ____” which instantly shuts you up and has you reaching for your gym bag.

It is the tension that makes you suddenly more conscious of your appearance and all of your flaws. Simple imperfections that you didn’t care about before suddenly seem magnified a thousandfold and are now the bane of your existence; that YES, the zit on your nose is reason you will die a spinster-bachelor. And woe be to you if you are narcissistic and vain to begin with.

It is that which reduces desirable, confident and self-assured people to insecure, self-loathing, self-doubting wrecks that continuously question their looks, their personality, their very worth as human beings as the reason why He hasn’t texted yet, emailed, or replied to you on friendster. Other reasons, like the fact that they might be busy, log-in problems, or that you haven’t called Him yourself because you’ve been too fricking CHICKEN to do so for fear of being finally and decisively rejected thus ending the ride, never seem to enter your mind at this point.

It is absolutely hysterical; if it were happening to anyone else and they were relaying the experience to me, how this formerly confident, bright, had-it-all-together individual, after just having spent 30 minutes with a guy, was now willing to sell one of his kidneys if it meant being able to share a cup of coffee with them. I will, and have, laughed at my friends when they are in this state. The irony of this has not escaped me.

It is a conundrum wrapped in a paradox rolled in contradiction as you are quite aware that you barely know this person and have no rational basis for wanting nothing more than to spend the entirety of your natural life in wedded bliss with him as your husband, but you feel it nonetheless.

It is excruciating.

It is exciting.

It is funny.

It is NOT funny.

It is maddening. It is wonderful. It is maddeningly wonderful.

And It is what I have got.



          "Will had never wanted to fall in love. When it had happened to friends it had always struck him as a peculiarly unpleasant-seeming experience, what with all the loss of sleep and weight, and the unhappiness when it was unreciprocated, and the suspect, dippy happiness when it was working out. These were people who could not control themselves, or protect themselves, people who, if only temporarily, were no longer content to occupy their own space, people who could no longer rely on a new jacket, a bag of grass and an afternoon rerun of The Rockford Files to make them complete."

          - A passage from About a Boy by Nick Hornby, my new favourite author. Will definitely be hunting down High Fidelity next. Thanks to Nikka for her awesome book collection and extreme generosity.

Thursday, June 10, 2004


Mark Evanier is a writer who has been behind various pop culture pleasures in a variety of fields. From comics (Groo the Wanderer, DNAgents) to cartoon shows (Dungeons and Dragons, Garfield and friends). He has a blog online where he writes about dealings with showbiz, interesting links, and just the occasional rambling.

A few days ago he made a post about a letter that's been floating around for supposedly a while now. It's a very powerful piece, and I'm reprinting it here in its entirety. The original post can be found here.

An Interesting Letter

This piece, which was supposedly printed in a newspaper a few years ago, has been floating around the Internet for some time. I dunno if it was really written by the mother of a gay son and/or if it was really published but it makes a pretty powerful statement. One of the reasons I believe the drive to stamp out "gay rights" will never succeed is that the anti-gay folks seem unable to cope with the situation in pragmatic, workable terms. It is one thing to say there shouldn't be homosexuality; quite another to explain to those who feel that way what they should do about it. It's like they think if they can condemn homosexuality loudly enough, every gay will suddenly come to his or her senses, stop buying Bette Midler CDs, marry someone of the opposite sex and procreate aplenty. Anyway, here's the letter -- and if it isn't legit, it oughta be...

Letter to the Editor
by Sharon Underwood, Sunday, April 30, 2000
from the Valley News (White River Junction, VT/Hanover, NH)

As the mother of a gay son, I've seen firsthand how cruel and misguided people can be.

Many letters have been sent to the Valley News concerning the homosexual menace in Vermont. I am the mother of a gay son and I've taken enough from you good people.

I'm tired of your foolish rhetoric about the "homosexual agenda" and your allegations that accepting homosexuality is the same thing as advocating sex with children. You are cruel and ignorant. You have been robbing me of the joys of motherhood ever since my children were tiny.

My firstborn son started suffering at the hands of the moral little thugs from your moral, upright families from the time he was in the first grade. He was physically and verbally abused from first grade straight through high school because he was perceived to be gay.

He never professed to be gay or had any association with anything gay, but he had the misfortune not to walk or have gestures like the other boys. He was called "fag" incessantly, starting when he was 6.

In high school, while your children were doing what kids that age should be doing, mine labored over a suicide note, drafting and redrafting it to be sure his family knew how much he loved them. My sobbing 17-year-old tore the heart out of me as he choked out that he just couldn't bear to continue living any longer, that he didn't want to be gay and that he couldn't face a life without dignity.

You have the audacity to talk about protecting families and children from the homosexual menace, while you yourselves tear apart families and drive children to despair. I don't know why my son is gay, but I do know that God didn't put him, and millions like him, on this Earth to give you someone to abuse. God gave you brains so that you could think, and it's about time you started doing that.

At the core of all your misguided beliefs is the belief that this could never happen to you, that there is some kind of subculture out there that people have chosen to join. The fact is that if it can happen to my family, it can happen to yours, and you won't get to choose. Whether it is genetic or whether something occurs during a critical time of fetal development, I don't know. I can only tell you with an absolute certainty that it is inborn.

If you want to tout your own morality, you'd best come up with something more substantive than your heterosexuality. You did nothing to earn it; it was given to you. If you disagree, I would be interested in hearing your story, because my own heterosexuality was a blessing I received with no effort whatsoever on my part. It is so woven into the very soul of me that nothing could ever change it. For those of you who reduce sexual orientation to a simple choice, a character issue, a bad habit or something that can be changed by a 10-step program, I'm puzzled. Are you saying that your own sexual orientation is nothing more than something you have chosen, that you could change it at will? If that's not the case, then why would you suggest that someone else can?

A popular theme in your letters is that Vermont has been infiltrated by outsiders. Both sides of my family have lived in Vermont for generations. I am heart and soul a Vermonter, so I'll thank you to stop saying that you are speaking for "true Vermonters."

You invoke the memory of the brave people who have fought on the battlefield for this great country, saying that they didn't give their lives so that the "homosexual agenda "could tear down the principles they died defending. My 83-year-old father fought in some of the most horrific battles of World War II, was wounded and awarded the Purple Heart.

He shakes his head in sadness at the life his grandson has had to live. He says he fought alongside homosexuals in those battles, that they did their part and bothered no one. One of his best friends in the service was gay, and he never knew it until the end, and when he did find out, it mattered not at all. That wasn't the measure of the man.

You religious folk just can't bear the thought that as my son emerges from the hell that was his childhood he might like to find a lifelong companion and have a measure of happiness. It offends your sensibilities that he should request the right to visit that companion in the hospital, to make medical decisions for him or to benefit from tax laws governing inheritance.

How dare he? you say. These outrageous requests would threaten the very existence of your family, would undermine the sanctity of marriage.

You use religion to abdicate your responsibility to be thinking human beings. There are vast numbers of religious people who find your attitudes repugnant. God is not for the privileged majority, and God knows my son has committed no sin.

The deep-thinking author of a letter to the April 12 Valley News who lectures about homosexual sin and tells us about "those of us who have been blessed with the benefits of a religious upbringing" asks: "What ever happened to the idea of striving...to be better human beings than we are?"

Indeed, sir, what ever happened to that?

Wednesday, June 09, 2004


After being delayed for almost 5 days, the teams of the fifth edition of the Amazing Race have finally been revealed!

The teams this year have an interesting mix. For starters there are no physically dominating alpha male teams like in previous races. The closest they come to that are in the form of a pair of dumpy New York brothers who would be more at home on an episode of "The Sopranos" than on this show.

Along with the standard "couple" teams, there are a few notable pairs this time around. Among them are a father-daughter combination (a first on the show), a widowed over-50 couple that met on the internet, the show's first little person (re: dwarf) competitor and -- presumably to capture the young adult male demographic -- a set of hot, blonde identical twins. For me, the best cast was still the third edition of the show, but there are a lot of firsts in this one that make it interesting to watch. The fact that there is no true alpha male team is a HUGE relief, as there is some actual suspense on who wins this time around.

You can check out a clip introducing the teams here. Stay tuned for more in-depth opinions on the racers.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004


"I'm not even sure what happened, but I just had this glimpse of what might be possible, and for whatever reason the world just seemed really open and interesting, and not totally screwed up. I don't know. I just felt really happy."

          - Claire Fisher (Lauren Ambrose), Six Feet Under

Monday, June 07, 2004


.... to Nikka, for being the voice of reason. Thanks, sweetie. *hugs*

Sunday, June 06, 2004

Melissa Etheridge

I wanna see how lucky, lucky can be
Ride with me

I saw you through my blind intoxication
My shock induced insane self-medication
You looked at me and smiled
Said get ready to get wild.
sugar you just need a brief vacation

I wanna see how lucky, lucky can be
I wanna ride with my angel and live shockingly
I wanna drive to the edge and into the sea
I wanna see how lucky, lucky can be

I was dried up I was starving I was mangled
I looked like hell, twisted up and tangled
You whispered in my ear
The ghosts are gone it’s clear
For too long you’ve been tied up you’ve been strangled

I don’t wanna ride on a shotgun side
Don’t wanna be a quaint observer on this supersonic ride
Double down, split the aces, to the races
I feel lucky tonight

I wanna see just how lucky, lucky can be
Ride with my angel how I love being free
Drive to the edge and into the sea
I wanna see how lucky, lucky can be

Ride, ride with me
I wanna see how lucky
Lucky can be

How lucky, lucky can be.


“Hi G., this is Ian, the guy who danced with you in BED last friday. I just wanted to say I really enjoyed meeting you, and hopefully we can bump into each other again some time. Take care!”

“Hi G.; although I’ve only just met you once, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’ve been tense and goofy and nervous and giddy and excited and nauseous ever since I met you, and I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Your broad shoulders, creamy white skin, cuddly body and gorgeous smile are all I can think about.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please text me back (and please oh PLEASE let this be your real number that you gave to me and not a fake one!) so we can start a conversation which will turn into friendship at which point we will fall madly in love with each other, so I can sweep you off your feet (or you sweep me off mine, whatever works) and we fly to Canada or Belgium so we can get married and live in blissful happiness forever and ever.”

Oh boy. This will not end well. OY.


Going by my past infatuations, The level of excitement I have over the guy in question has always been directly proportional to the likelihood that the feeling is not mutual. In other words, the more I like a guy, the greater the chance that he’s not into me. Conversely, If I am NOT attracted to a guy, or he looks cute in pictures but nowhere near as good in real life, the more likely they are to be interested in me. (and hound me, and stalk me, etc…)

So, judging by how off the deep end I am with THIS guy --yesterday, save for one measly slice of cheesecake, I ate nothing. NOTHING!! -- that does NOT bode well for my chances. There. I said it. So now when it all blows up in my face, no one can laugh at me and say that I didn’t see it coming.

Don’t get me wrong; you can STILL laugh at me, you just can’t say that I didn’t see it coming.

Saturday, June 05, 2004

Melissa Etheridge

Yes that's what I said
Guess I thought that I was dead
So I just called you from my bed
To say hello

See I've got this funny notion
life is only just an ocean
I've been drowning in emotion
Now I'm swimming back to shore
And I'd like to talk to you

If you want to
You can call I'll be around
If you want to
You can write this number down
If you want to
If you want to
Leave a message at the tone
If you want to
You can call me here at home
If you want to
I'll be alone

So now I've called
So it's been a couple days,
ok seven this I know
that I've been moving kinda slow
So I called

Oh it must be so appaling
if you think that I've been stalling
This is me now I am calling
And I'm better than before
And I'd like to talk to you

Don't you wanna know, don't you wanna be
Someone who takes a chance on a fool like me
Staring at the door, starin' down the hall
Waiting my whole life just for you to call

Yes that's what I said
I'm not breathing I'm not dead
Waiting here now in my bed
And I'd like to talk to you

If you want to
You can call I'll be around
If you want to
You can write this number down
If you want to
If you want to
Let your fingers do the walk
If you want to
I've got hours I can talk
If you want to
If you want to
Leave a message at the tone
If you want to
You can call me here at home
If you want to

I'll be alone.


I guess I really AM over it now.

This is the first time I've felt this excited over ANYONE since... well, since brenda.

Despite the tension, the stress, the nervousness, and fear of rejection, it feels good.

Is it too much to ask the gods and the fates and whatever appropriate deities to help me out here?

Yes, yes, I know chances are -- and knowing MY luck -- nothing will come of this, but the fact that I'm feeling like this again, that's a reassuring sign in itself.

For the first time this year, I feel alive again.

Thursday, June 03, 2004


As you may very well know, web-surfing has replaced TV as my number one time waster. Actual News, pro wrestling, showbiz news, the occasional porn (at least I admit it, right?) Politics, reality TV, blogs. I spend at least an hour a day just hopping to my favorite sites, devouring what I can. Every once in a while, I read something that strikes me, a quote or a lyric perhaps, that makes me think, makes me laugh, or just is just so WIERD that I have to remember it. I've made posts on them in the past, but I figured that I would try compiling them each week into one post instead.

"Progress isn't made by early risers. It's made by lazy men trying to find easier ways to do something." - Robert Heinlein, cribbed from Charmaine's Blog

"He's meant to be adorable in a crippled puppy way" - Katrice, on 'retarded' WWE wrestler Eugene Dinsmore

"You have to honor failure, because failure is just the negative space around success." - Randy Nelson, PIXAR director from an interview in Wired Magazine

"The partners/wives of sex addicts report many similar feelings about living with the sex addict. The feeling of aloneness is a common experience with partners of sex addicts, the sense that he can't open up and tell you about his "real" self. The confusion of even after you do certain behaviors that this still is not enough and the hopelessness that there isn't enough. Anger for many different unmet needs as a person are often common." - From an extremely enlightening article on Sexual Addiction

"Look, girls are stupid… they don’t know greatness when they find it. Like me, I had this girl in Florida who was THISCLOSE to being with greatness… but she shit in her oatmeal, and got carried away with how nice I treated her… and now, instead of being with ME, who has an honest to goodness shot at giving her a hell of a fun life, she’s going to end up being a mousy librarian and marrying some Dentist and living a quiet, boring, middle class life with 2.5 kids and exactly three sexual positions exactly three times a week. All because she crapped on her shot at greatness. It took me a while, but I’m over it. Same with you. Quit being such a pussy-whipped asshole, stick some salad in your mouth sometimes, and get back on the horse." - Chris "the fucking MAN" Hyatte from his weekly column The Midnight News

Kelly Clarkson

He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme I know
He’s as damned as he seems
And more heaven than a heart could hold
And if I try to save him
My whole world could cave in
It just ain’t right
It just ain’t right

Oh and I don’t know
I don’t know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?

His magical myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see
And do I try to change him?
So hard not to blame him
Hold on tight
Hold on tight

Oh 'cause I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after
But he’s so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?

I'm longing for love and the logical
But he's only happy hysterical
I'm waiting for some kind of miracle
Waitin' so long
So long

He’s soft to the touch
But frayed at the end he breaks
He’s never enough
And still he's more than I can take

Oh 'cause I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?

He’s beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster


Since I've had to take it easy with the weights since my shoulder is being rehabbed, I've started going to the aerobics classes in my gym. Just some random thoughts that popped in my head as I bounced up and down and sweat:

- I am apparently an ass man now. The hunky aerobics instructor's butt is ROCK SOLID and in perfect shape. I believe that's what gay circles call a "bubble butt". That's what doing 2 hours of aerobics every day will do for you. I could NOT stop looking at the thing. The guy was my type too, as he wasn't skinny but actually quite buff, with a barrel chest rather than a slim torso. If he asked me out I would probably say yes. The fact that I positioned myself directly behind him was just coincidental, I tell you.

- Cute butt notwithstanding, I could never, ever date an aerobics instructor, as they are way too damn PERKY. Smiling all the time, always "Let's GO, people!!" I would be forced to murder him after about a month of that. One thing I've recently learned about myself is that for whatever reason, "bubbly" isn't really a plus for me.

- I would make an interesting aerobics instructor. Combine my inherent laziness with my distaste for pushing people, I'd be all "You can do this, but if you can't, it's okay! If you're tired, why don't you sit this one out, it's fine. In fact, let's just how about we all just go down to the juice bar and get some smoothies, how's that sound?"

REALLY nice butt though.


The SIZZLING SUMMER SOIREE post is in the works, barring some technical difficulties (namely, trying to get my dang digital camera to be detected by my PC so I can upload pics) Plus, I've just been enjoying the non-online life for a change.

Will be back again soon, with the Party recap, plus my thoughts on the new teams for Amazing Race 5, which should be revealed to the public in about 4 hours....

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