Can You Imagine Me Dancing?

Neither can I, but apparently, last Saturday, I did. And with wild abandon too, I might add. Yes, yes, the mere thought can cause quite a stirring in one's stomach, but let's get over it, because for the first time evarrr, I was finally able to visit Government. AND I'm happy to say that the cessation of my Government-virginity was initiated by no less than Kylie Minogue herself. The whole night, every [pumped/hard/toned/sweaty] body was swimming in the wildly sexy dance beats of La Minogue. Much love to Barny for having me along.


EXCERPTS FROM THE EVENING (Or, Me As A Dork And A Half)
Pilfered from Barny's Post

We were with Barny's two hagettes, Grace and Peachy. They said they wanted to see how our side of the fence looked like, so we took the liberty to educate them on the basics. We'd just finished enlightening them on the mysteries of being top, bottom, and versatile, and to illustrate, we gave them a simple (read: crude and abstract) way to read guys.

Me: What are you gonna drink?
Barny: Beer.
Me: How butch! Cocktail drinks (particularly the ones served in stemmed glasses) make guys look like bottoms.
Me, to a Waiter: Zombie, please. (Which was promptly handed to me... in a flamboyant thin-stemmed glass.)
Me: What the -- this is usually served in a tall glass ah!
Barny: Ayos lang, Pii. At the very least, you look versatile.

We were on the dance floor, and Grace and Peachy were sitting on the ledge, kind of swaying from side to side. Peachy pulls Barny over to her.

Peachy: Barny may tatanong ako sayo (whispers) bading ba yung nasa harap, yung naka-black?
Barny: Teh, bading kami lahat dito.
Me, butting in on the convo: What's happening?
Barny: Tinatanong niya kung bading yon.
Me: Sus, no need to whisper. BAKLA SILANG LAHAT!!!

Highlight of the evening: Barny channeling Kylie while dancing I Believe In You with unbelievable accuracy.

The Irony of Being Thankful

I went out this afternoon to buy a gift for tomorrow's Kris Kringle at Walter Mart Makati. Since our theme was "Something chocolate but not chocolate," I was thinking of getting an all-chocolate cookbook at Buy The Book -- a place starting to feel a lot like home for me. However, despite their extensive collection of books, there was nary a trace of chocolate in their Culinary section. (I ended up buying Michael Cunningham's Specimen Days for myself instead. I knew it, I knew it!) It was kind of disappointing since I thought the cookbook was such a clever idea, but I suppose I redeemed myself enough by getting something nice at Japan Home Center (again, another space of comfort) in its place.


There were a lot of students from my old high school walking around the mall by the time I was making my way home. I thought it was a little early from the usual time students are dismissed, but then again our school was notorious for launching sudden extra-curricular activities and changing schedules on the fly, so I shouldn't really be surprised. Besides, it was a Friday, and I'm sure the kids deserved a break.

Most of them walked in groups, very few by themselves, and fewer still with their parents. All the same, seeing them -- in their school uniforms, bags slung on their shoulders, laughing, sometimes walking and looking thoughtful -- urged something sleeping in me to stir. It eluded me at first, foolishly making me think it was nostalgia or something warm I can hold on to for a while and take comfort in, but slowly I realized it was something else -- something I thought I have taught myself not to feel. Regret.

It crept onto me, clung onto my skin thickly like black smoke. I was... perplexed. Granted, my time in high school wasn't exactly what anyone could call ideal, nor was it simple, certainly not easy. At best, I could describe it as... unorthodox. But never once did I think of actually going back, shake my past self into realizing that things should be going another way (No, no, no, that's wrong!), changing the entire course of my life at once. Not until now, that is.

They looked so happy, the students. If not, well, at least they looked hopeful. They're so young, and so full of doors and windows to the rest of their lives. It made me unbearably sad. I was like you! I wanted to shout. I believed back then that I could be anything, could have gotten anything, as I was made to believe. I did what I can, and I did it the best way that I could. I had strong, almost unshakable faith that I will be getting a happy ending to my story.

But, as life is wont to do, things happened. Somewhere down the line, something went wrong. Up until now I can't figure out where exactly it started. If my life were laid out before me like an atlas, my fingers would be hovering above the continent that is my high school life, but I could never decide on a specific coordinate to point to. This uncertainty, this doubt would spread itself over every aspect of me from then on.

Fast forward nine years. Have things gotten better? They certainly have. At least from the point where my sanity has gone a little shaky, I'm more stable now. Twenty-five is relatively young, true, but the regret I am feeling is rooted in a deeper place. I can still see the windows and doors, the same ones I saw when I was still fifteen, sixteen. But now they are too far for me to reach. At some point I regained the longing to run after them again, but eventually I tired of it. I have become too complacent, and I can't be bothered with things such as ambition, or dream, or leaving a lasting legacy.

I look at my hands, typing this. "I'm fine," I trained my mind to think. Living life day by passing day should be a good thing; contenting oneself with what one has should be a blessing. But for me who once knew what I should be, and then suddenly having that knowledge taken away from me, leaving me a husk riddled with doubt, uncertain of who I am, what I should do, and what I should become... living each day is more like a ruse, an act, a cycle of breathing in and breathing out, a constantly shifting waiting shed to a deep and silent oblivion. Each day, with each entry in my journal, there is an underlying wish for that oblivion to come and claim me soon.

I am thankful for having overcome the initial turbulence my raw and young emotions have gotten me into many years ago, but the irony of that gratitude is that I no longer have any desire to do anything else anymore.

From the Queen of Dreams

Each of us lives in a separate universe, one we have dreamed into being. We love people when their dream coincides with ours, the way two cutout designs laid one on top of the other might match. But dream worlds are not static like cutouts; sooner or later they change shape, leading to misunderstanding, loneliness, and loss of love.

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Queen of Dreams

Post-Samhain Pre-Mabon Feast

We were not able to celebrate Samhain this year, but we were still able to hold a faux-Mabon feast last Saturday night with the bunnies and their little friends. This is usually celebrated around March or April, but I suppose we just needed an excuse to get together again since we were a little late for Samhain already. As with the previous years, the bunnies hosted a great party with fabulous dishes and beautiful new friends, although the ceremony was skipped this time around. It was missed by a lot of the regular attendees, and we're hoping we could have a more complete celebration again next year.

The photo parade behind this link.


The cozy corner bar at Fire's house. Please excuse the poor quality photos. My camera wasn't performing very well that night, for some strange reason.



Hono'o-chan and her officemate, Amy.



Libay and Fire, by the door ready to maul troublemakers.



Nix, Jojo, and Lot, smiling in between cherry bombs.



Matron Mother Hono'o-san, seducing another strapping youth into her harem.



Allen, Allen's girl, and Noel, chilling outside.



Hono'o-chan and Nix, listening to something I wasn't listening to.



Ly, once again the star of the night, doing a reading for Abby.



Nix and Jojo, talking with a vodka-fied Hono'o-chan.

Stalling Before Going To Work

It's 7:20 AM. If I were a good boy, I would be hauling my ass out by this time so I can make it to work early and avoid the morning rush. Since I am not a good boy (or at least, not this morning), I am instead staying seated and considering giving in to the urge to call in sick. And while that dark plan is percolating in my brain, I thought I'd do an online quiz first. This was taken from Elmer, who got it from Hono'o-chan, who got it from Froggy, who probably got it from someone else too. Hehe.

You Are a Green Crayon

Your world is colored in harmonious, peaceful, natural colors. While some may associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around. Comfort is important to you. You like to feel as relaxed as possible - and you try to make others feel at ease. You're very happy with who you are, and it certainly shows! Your color wheel opposite is red. Every time you feel grounded, a red person does their best to shake you.

What Color Crayon Are You?

Urgh, I hate green. I have to admit tho, that most of it is true. Oi, Hono'o-chan! We're opposites daw o!

Escapism in Cold Beer and Video Games

Last night, three big bosses celebrated their birthdays at Okavango in Marikina Riverpark and almost the whole office was invited. The videoke matches have already been well under way when our team arrived at about 11:00 PM. Of course, Paris couldn't be held back as soon as we stepped into the room, and jumped right into the fray. It was a loud, fun, alcohol-filled evening where we all threatened to shake down the stars, and it felt great getting together with people who want nothing else but to sing their hearts out. Catharsis was the whole night's theme, and we were all the better for it. :-)

In other news, Granado Espada has been put on hold since I have just installed the new Neverwinter Nights 2 expansion, Mask of the Betrayer! I have only started playing it this morning, but already I am deeply immersed in the story! Here's to the next few months of battling ancient evil beings; rescuing two, three, maybe nine planes of existence; and endless adventuring in the Realms!

The Regrouping of Tsinoy Mafia

It warms my heart to see the (almost) whole Tsinoy Mafia once again! We all got together for Celine and Nick's wedding at Tagaytay Midlands this afternoon, where we stayed until after dinner. The drive going there proved to be a little difficult; I gotta say, the peaks and dips and curves the road took on were totally nerve-wracking, but Gaye's fantastic driving skillz got us there in one piece.

The place was absolutely breathtaking! The little chapel stood on a peak overlooking fields of such green life one couldn't believe, rocks beautifully formed shaping the sides of the mountains, and little twinkling lights at the far off distance ushering the cooling spirit of Tagaytay dusk. The air was a pleasure to breathe, and stars -- yes, actual stars -- were visible! Celine and Nick were very lucky to have celebrated their wedding on such a beautiful day. :-)

The guys of Tsinoy Mafia still haven't changed. Sure, they might have gone their separate ways career-wise, but put together, they're still the same bunch of... well... boys. One would think we were still in college, bantering and throwing one-liners at each other (mostly at Denmark, actually), with no apparent worries about bills and work and cranky lovers. Seeing them again helped keep my recently-failing sanity in check.

I rode with Gaye again going home, where we reclaimed a small piece of our college days by singing to the top of our lungs songs we used to listen to when we needed emotional healing from school. Third Eye Blind, Fuel, Hanson's Penny and Me, and some other bands Gaye introduced to me kept us company until we got to my place, where we finally parted with promises of meeting up soon, and more often this time.

And right now... oh, right now I'm just glad I don't have work for two more days! Pictures to (hopefully) come soon!

Weekday Affirmation

I was seated inside a cramped FX going home from work this afternoon. The old, heavily-built man beside me smelled of newspapers teeming with mold, and the office girls seated at the back were chattering in unintelligible, high-pitched twitters. The air-conditioning, which couldn't make up its mind if it wanted to be warm or cool, was blasting its offensive air onto my face; my legs and arms were going numb for not being able to move; and my head felt like it was filled with stale water, constantly being jarred against waves of consciousness and unconsciousness throughout the uncomfortable and bumpy ride. Thirty more minutes before I get to Ayala, where I will begin a walk for another thirty minutes until I get home.

I really don't mind. My music keeping me company and the comfort of another day fading away behind my back both warm my heart. And the single, solitary thought of going home makes everything bad that had happened during the day -- no matter how small, or unseemly, or large, or numbing -- seem worth every breath I had exhaled.

An Amazing Saturday Night

Cheesy title, but after the experience we -- that is, me and the bunnies -- had tonight, there can be no other words. At about 8-ish, the three of us headed over to the Manila Film Center in CCP Complex to watch The Amazing Show. It is basically a cultural variety show featuring traditional dances from China, Japan, Korea, and Europe among many others. What made it more special was that the performers were mostly transvestites -- and very beautiful ones at that.

The audience was mostly Korean tourists, and the three of us had fun watching them as we were watching the show itself. It seemed they really enjoyed every minute of the evening, as they never passed up any opportunity to have their photos taken with the performers. Some of them even went as far as getting on the stage and lip-synching to the opening music before the actual performance started. Hono'o-chan and I thought it was crazy, but Fire was quick to point out that it was a pop lesson in cultural variety.

I did take photos of the event, although it was a little too late in the program already. I thought cameras were not allowed during the performance, so I kept my mobile phone in check -- until I saw people from the audience clicking away with reckless abandon. Of course I jumped in and took photos as well. Click the photo below for the photo parade:






The empty stage before the show started. I think we were the only Filipinos in the audience.



A Korean couple goofing off.



The Korean Fan Dance. This was performed at the second half of the show.



Bailar, three fantastic dance performances by three fantastic pairs.



Shakira's Whenever, Wherever.



The Merry Christmas Finale. I wish I'd taken more pictures. There were very nice performances of Rama and Sita, The Phantom of the Opera, Singkil, and some scenes from Moulin Rouge. The stage was beautifully designed, and the detailing was exquisite.



Lianne and Fire, all smiles before the show started.



Me and Hono'o-chan, aglow and excited, thankful that another tough week is over, and a restful weekend is laid out ahead.