The Native Sentimental Maniac

How to move on

2009-08-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

I just thought that reading my own thoughts would help me get over my depression. Here are some of them and please tell me if they are of help to you or not.

1. Get back to work mode and try as much as possible to keep yourself busy.
2. Start helping your mom with the household chores on weekends.
3. Forget your boyfriend and never fall in love with another guy again.
4. Start refocusing your life and determine whether meeting a girl this time around is a possibility.
5. Always remember that life is beautiful after all, so never ever attempt at committing suicide again.
6. Try to set one goal at a time; achieve something for yourself for motivation.
7. Pray and go to church.

Just some thoughts running in my head now. There could be more though.

The Resurrection

2009-07-27T01:30:00.000-07:00

Coming back soon. So many things to share and to talk about. Two monhts of indifference shall be several years of recovery.

Did I tell you I went home for the Lent Celebration?

2008-04-02T07:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some of the photos I took. It's really a cheap camera and I am newbie. At 29, I finally got to buy my first digital camera ever. Ha, ha, ha.

That scared the shit out of me

2008-03-04T23:38:00.000-08:00

Seeing the round worm, more than 6 inches long, made me shiver. "How could have I been infested with such a parasite?" I thought to myself. I was almost trembling looking at it in the bowl. I wanted to make sure if what I was seeing was indeed a worm or just something I happened to eat. That was the second week of January this year.

Next thing, my panic prodded me to get some confirmation from the internet. I could well describe what I had seen-a worm, pinkish in color, around several millimeters in diameter and had a pointed body. I checked the site and it matched the description of a round worm.

I was horrified by the sight of it. More so did I when saw the grotesque pictures of them on my computer monitor. My mind was racing with ideas then about when, how, and where could have I gotten them. If it's been a while, then that made me figure why I was through some intermittent abdominal pains which I often mistook as pains caused by my liver disease. After flushing the parasite down the drainage, I texted AJ right away. I informed him of what happened to me in the toilet and he got ticked off. I think he misunderstood what I had just told him.

He chided me at the onset and traced back my indulgence with street foods particularlycalamares cooked in fat. He blamed my self-indulgence, my drinking which has turned habitual once more. But his voice had an air of concern which gave me solace somehow. Resolved, I instantly wanted to get rid of the remaining parasites in my system but I didn't want anybody to know about it except AJ and perhaps my mom, so I could ask her for advice.

I felt awkward consulting the problem with my mom. My instinct told me she was the one I could turn to. I knew she could help me. She advised me to buy combantrin for adults but knowing I had around 90 dollars in my paypal account, I just decided to order medicine online to be shipped from the United States to the Philippines. That cost me some amount but I am satisfied and I continue to take the medicine.

According to Dr. Kevin Campbell, Ph.D, people often think that, because they eat well, they can't be infested with parasites. However, parasites can be transmitted in many ways. We've found that any type of bodily contact-even shaking hands or kissing-can spread them.

When you walk along the beach, parasites can burrow into your heel within seconds. Children get worms from pets and playgrounds and then pass them to other people.

While I was Gone

2008-02-25T21:57:00.000-08:00

I have been so cold and insensitive, dwelling on insecurities, laziness, uneasiness, and sometimes unexplainable human nature. I have been quiet for a long time and never cared to give you my friends about what has been going on with me. I felt I have been smitten with indifference which have bogged me down for some time. My apologies again.

The reason for my absence need not be explained. It is simple but it is portentous. I hope you guys don't get sick and tired of my litanies. I just lost the fire and I needed to rest my thoughts since maintaining this blog and thinking of what to write next had been onerous. I had rather enjoyed months of mental liberation. Now I am back with a staggering zeal which I hope will last me a long time. Just in case you have been wondering, here's a quick rundown, I suppose.

Last December 2007, on a chilly and quiet evening, the cool breeze of the mountains and the misty evening greeted AJ and myself as we got off the bus. We were finally in Baguio, my beloved hometown. We had planned to celebrate the New Year at home. My two younger brothers were there with their eyes ogling earlier at the windows of the bus. When I called them, they shot me with wide grins and quickly ran up to us to help with our luggage. Their smiles and their presence eased the body ache and giddiness that took its toll on me during the 6-hour trip. We quickly managed to hail a cab and in less than twenty minutes, we were at home. I surely missed the quick trips to and fro my home in the highlands. My trips in Manila hither and thither were different. They would take me hours. I just missed Baguio, its simplicity, its serenity, its canopy of twinkling stars overhead in a tranquil night, its stormy days. Comparing it to the city which adopted me as its own and helped me survive for the past years, is a clear-cut perfidy.

The squeaking of the door made up of slabs of wood signified the reunion I had been yearning for. The longing for home was made manifest in the few knocks I so eagerly let go. She opened the door and gave a short grin. She was my mom. I knew how happy she was to see me in sight, close to her, though her usual glumly face tried to hide the yearning of a mother to her son. Homesickness is just hard to deal with. I wished I had been there before Christmas but the nature of my job deprived me to be with them during the major Holiday. Christmas was over yet I was full of excitement to celebrate the start of the New Year with them. As usual, I was with AJ who conspired with my pretension, to give me company. All the while he has been regarded as a close friend of mine, just a close friend.

Seeing my family was exhilarating. The moment my eyes lay on their countenances made my heart jump. I smoldered the yearning of hugging them, kissing them on the cheeks...We are not used to that. My siblings and I were somehow raised with indifference at home. We know how much we love each other but none has been demonstrative. We acted as if we were distant from each other. My parents never taught us what kids usually do in terms of displaying their affection and reverence to their parents. There was a short exchange of hi's and hello's and how-are-you's, and after that everybody was busy unpacking the bags and boxes containing pasalubong (gifts and presents). Being homeward bound again gave me ethereal pleasure, yet it was unthinkable to realize that my being with them would only give me ephemeral satisfaction.

AJ and I spent almost two-weeks of stay in Baguio. I was glad my boss allowed me to take a leave. The cold weather in Baguio taught us to avoid going to town for additional expenses, to survive without taking a bath, to snuggle daily in the couch while watching TV, to eat, to sleep, to rest and relax. AJ noticed the boredom and he started complaining why I didn't tour him around the city. Oh, how much he wanted to go to the Strawberry Farm.

There was no sight of the strawberry farm that took place because two days after new year, we traveled down south to witness my younger brother's wedding. It was the first time somebody among my siblings was getting married. It was exciting but it was a little scary. It was hard to put up with all the pretensions and ostentatious ceremonies, conversations, etc. Nonetheless, the wedding commenced and it ended smoothly. We took a glorious splash of water at a nearby beach before we headed back up North.

We left for Manila on the second week of January, 2008 full of a hodgepodge of memories.

Oh, that Bulge!

2008-02-20T23:26:00.000-08:00

It's me. I blush, feel distraught, uneasy, and I am just human, oh I am gay. I have always been caught off guard by this man in uniform-a security guard. He is not that gorgeous that gays could easily fall in love with but he has this certain animalistic appeal in him. The way he sets his eyes on you drives your thoughts afar,those piercing looks comparable to the scorching heat of the sun titillates your mental faculty beyond horizons. Those glinting glares could melt you right instant. Have you heard of wild imaginations and sexual fantasies? Oh, well.

The confidantes I have in the cafeteria were all giggling and rapturous when I told them about my optical encounters with that security guard. Ate Liza and Donna were threatening to spill the beans about my fantasies of that guy. I was quiet with an air of repulsed excitement within me.

What if he learns about my furtive desires? I don't think he is a man of steel who would be too insensitive as to notice. I don't want to commit but I am waiting for possibilities. For now, I just have to act as if he never existed before my eyes and wildest fantasies. I can't be sure. He is irresistible. I just feel a little scared. An unexpected turns of tides in the next few weeks could be the start of something sparkling, fiery, forbidden, immoral. Another snare into debauchery.

Why do I think this way? It's been less than a month since he was hired as an additional personnel to look after the security of this building. Being a newbie in the area didn't escape my hungered eyes, eyes craving for flesh to behold, fantasize, and perhaps to caress, to own.

Our first encounter immortalized him seated on a bench, trying to stretch his lean body out. His 5' 9" height was enhanced as he flexed his lower limbs against the bench while looking at his crotch hidden in that fit blue pair of slacks, with a well-fed fish wanting to squirm out, swim out of that heated machine, find bliss in a watery hole. I hope no one saw me drooling over his body on that day. I was ascending the stairs to the third floor of the building leaving me a slanted top view of his desirable physique.

Just today, I met him on his way out of the communal rest room on the third floor. He was tucking his shirt in his fit slacks. I was trying to avoid to look at him but he was looking at me. Oh, those penetrating glances, they continue to puzzle me with my timid response. Those glances are trying to express something and I am not too pathetic to understand what they mean. I gave him a snap of a glimpse, I wanted to smile but it was smouldered. I was flying with so much imagination headed for the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. Is there something he wants to convey? Let's see. I want just in case, but I am scared.

The Reunion

2007-12-07T02:48:00.000-08:00

Oh, Joanna just had a chat with me today through Yahoo Messenger. She is a distant friend working for care homes in Canada but no matter how many miles apart we are due to inevitable circumstances in life, she is always dear in my heart.

I heard she is coming over to spend Christmas with her loved ones. She found a new inspiration in her life there and that made me flash a wide grin in front of the camera earlier. She was happy to see the big smile in me and she reciprocated with a sigh, perhaps relieved knowing I was ready to accept her new found relationship. We haven't really talked much since she flew in to Canada to better her life and her daughter's whom she abandoned years ago under the custody of her mom. I told her how smart her daughter had become the last time I paid a visit back home. Then, she asked about my sister who is just a few years older than her daughter.

We talked about life, our struggles, our happiness, and the benign future we expect to be awaiting us. We ended the jovial conversation with my head inclined to recall one mushy yet glorious evening in my life.

After the duck hunt, a reunion with my family was about to unfold.

I wanted to go back home and the yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks had been even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad's high-and-mighty tower. I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day. Almost feeling hopeless, I ended up drinking the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with Brandon (Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night.

We had our usual talks of our lives, dreams, and youthful stories to tell. I felt comfortable sharing everything with him but not the secret I had been contemplating on earlier and was forging in the inward bravado in me. I never told Brandon I was going home on that dark night with the diminishing yet seemingly endless downpour. I left after our short drink and managed to wedge the bottle of glue inside my underwear. I got my hand on a bottle of a glue or a contact cement and though this skeleton of my past had to be resurrected, I had to succumb to its temporary effect to agitate the cringed fear inside me.

It was dark and I arrived almost drenched in the rain at the backyard of the house. Our dog was there but it never barked. It only gave me a whimpering sound and I felt how it missed me with his waggly tail, lunging it's head towards me. I decided to go near my parents' room to hear the crying baby. I was a bit drunk but it wasn't enough to boldly bolt me out where I was to see my parents face to face. The baby would continually cry but that was like sweet melody to my ears. I felt overjoyed knowing I already had a sister though was vaguely unsure if I could see how she looked. That made my heart melt still sensing if my moves would give me the expected end-product which is the longing to see my sister. I eased my face closer to the galvanized wall of the house and I could hear my mom trying to lull my baby sister to sleep. I missed my mom too as she was hushing the baby out. A spurt of emotions got caught in my throat and I remember wiping tears rolling out my eyes.

Braving myself enough, I took out the bottle of glue and a small plastic bag which I managed to obtain from the horse stable in the courtyard earlier. My spot in the back of the house was dark. The neighbors exterior bulbs and lamps a few meters away were not enough to illuminate my drunken self, my maniacal huffing of the glue. I remember talking to the dog then when my stupefied demeanor and mentality made the world stop. The last thing I recall seeing was the empty bottle of glue. I couldn't believe myself emptying almost a half-litter of bottle through huffing.

Next came hysteria, I was crying uncontrollably and so was my mom. My dad on the other hand was drunken, heavily snoring in bed like there's no tomorrow. He didn't see the drama. Nevertheless, I felt so happy making it inside. That was the first time I said "I love you" to my mom. My other brothers were there, one of them making me a cup of coffee. My sister was there, soundly asleep in the antiquated crib. I looked at my mom and she saw the eagerness in me. She motioned to me and I caught the angel in my palms. I was at home eventually sobered a few minutes before the daylight wrapped the darkness that canopied the recent events in my life.

I want to go back to school

2007-12-06T09:11:00.001-08:00

"Then, why not? If that is your current disposition, you have the autonomy to do it and nobody should get in the way. That is your right." Forgive me, I am talking to myself.

That takes me again to a trip down memory lane. One time, Kuya M told me that one of the clear indications of a person who is likely to become a wacko is someone who unconsciously often engages in soliloquy. Yeah, I talk to myself often especially when I'd rehearse for my opening spiels working as a call center representative somewhere in Quezon City almost two years ago. Like, I'd do that everyday while enjoying the short period of my morning walks on the way to work. I had done the same thing in front of the mirror creating a teacher-student conversation by myself when I was still teaching back in my hometown prior to attending my classes. Sometimes, I just have the uncontrolled tendency to do it over and over again when letting out some smothered grudges, banters, and unspoken rants.

But I am not going crazy. And before I could have been, the volition to go back home had finally materialized. A few days after that magnificent meal, after that ambrosian experience of the product of my betrayal to my dad and my brother who industriously fed the duck with succulent earthworms almost day in and day out, I made the decision to swallow my pride and be reunited with my family. But there was a fear growing in my forsaken self. I had never got the chance to really communicate with my brothers about how my parents felt about my running away from home. I had doubts whether my dad was still willing to forgive me or not. I knew my pregnant mom was, but not him. I could picture his stoic face ignoring my plea for forgiveness. He had always been like that, not so expressive of what he felt. There were times I knew, he wanted to say he loved me despite hurting me several times but maybe he wasn't just used to that kind of drama. He hated drama madness and that is the culprit as to why we never learned how to kiss them, hug them, get their hands dabbed on our foreheads as a traditional way of showing respect to elders in the Philippines. Not even say I love you, nor greet each other "Happy Birthday."

I wanted to go back home and that yearning to see my family again after being away for several weeks was even more inflamed when I heard from a relative that my mom had just given birth to the only girl among my siblings. My happiness was beyond horizon but I felt bitter and hesitant still that seeing my family especially the newly born angel at home would entail enough courage from me. The fear I had for my inebriate dad when I was younger persisted in my teen life though he had started cutting loose from the intoxicating addiction. I had to gather my strength enough to humble before my parents especially my dad, and I almost gave up thinking how to possibly push through with the plan that day.

Almost feeling hopeless, I sought courage from the power of the ubiquitous brand of gin available in all the stores in the neighborhood with Brandon(Kuya M's younger brother) up until around ten p.m that night.

To be continued...

The Duck Hunt

2007-12-05T01:21:00.000-08:00

I remember one time a few hours just before a stormy night. My friends and I conferred in the small living room and started discussing how we could survive the calamity and its aftermath. We went on talking about how to feed our jobless selves also in the next few days.

Kuya M's monthly allowance from his mom working in Hongkong never arrived on time and we were damn worried about how to sustain our precarious living, stuff our tummies before a cold night sleep.

One of my friends, suggested that we go loot one of my dad’s ducks in the backyard. We heard Kuya M makes the best duck recipe by glazing it with his magical and one in a million combination of tropical condiments. The idea outrightly scared me to hell. Knowing my dad considered his ducks more important than his own children was a thing to reckon with. I remember him count his ducks every afternoon when I was still at home. He'd make sure they were all well-fed and served with the copious earthworms which he had instructed my younger brother to rummage in the softer soils and the decomposing horses' dung in the backyard. I was certain my dad would kill me if he caught me red-handed but the angst ensconced in me towards him masked my fear. I agreed with the plan and just thought, "Que Sera, Sera, Whatever will be, will be."

We went on with the plan just before the twilight had purpled. It was a peaceful afternoon and the entire compound where our house belonged in was quiet except for our dog which momentarily yapped at my friends when we arrived a few meters from the structure through the fenced in backyard of the house. The courtyard fringed with hibiscus then was still commodious before my dad went insane selling every parcel of land he'd find profitable. The earlier weather forecast of a threatening storm might have shoved the people to stay put and prepare for a thunderous din of the night, I thought.

The quietude in the backyard gave me some consolation. It eased my worries earlier but it also sent me a more horrible picture of my what-if's to catch one of the ducks. The ducks seemed intellectually wary of the storm en route as they were gregariously huddled in their open coop but not of our devilish scheme.

With an open, empty sack of rice ready to stow one of them, my friends and I started our effortless duck hunt. I couldn't believe my eyes that in less than a minute my friend was able to catch one and managed to keep it squirming inside the sack. I felt relieved knowing we had worked on the plan without any travails. However, my compunction told me I just betrayed my dad, my family.

The ducks had started cawing loudly and to my surprise their noise didn't create much stir to bring one of my family members outside and witness my betrayal. We left through the small opening in the fenced in yard and fled through the bamboos near the river to make sure none of my neighbors would blow the whistle on our dirty tactic.

The rains had started tattooing on the roof while we were savoring the special meal Kuya M warmly prepared for us on that cold night. It was one of the best meals I have ever had and for the record my dad never found out, or might have he just feigned to send a signal that he had forgiven me?

Remorse and Hibernation

2007-12-03T23:31:00.000-08:00

Was there a time you were in hibernation or in a hiatus? Why? How did you deal with it?

"Time is as fast as an arrow."

It sucks but I have been mulling over the reasons behind being unable to post in a long time. There are a lot of things to say. The clear-cut getting-in-the-way tuition and quotidian job I have shouldn't be mentioned since it is not a good excuse. Maybe, I was just too lazy to post. Or the fire that was for sometime ablaze just died down. I still love to blog and I just can't understand why the spark just had to fade away.

Now, I am thinking more deeply. There was a time I admitted that I have an obsessive-compulsive behavior though I never actually had to undergo a psychological test or whatsoever. I may just be too naive to understand what it really means and I was to clueless to believe that I am indeed obsessive-compulsive. Then again, I remember a time when my eye got caught in the discussion at blogcatalog about a blogger who kept changing his blog's template to deal with what he called a "cycle". An impulse that hits people with obsessive-compulsive behavior. A spurt of a chameleon-like character, being whimsical, feeble, etc. I really don't know what's eating me. Insecurities, discontentment, anxieties, sexuality...there are too many to mention. But the compunction that has been eating me away from doing the regular things I had been doing is overwhelming. I am uncertain if spilling the beans will give me a relief. This is something that has been haunting me and I have always turned to AJ for help, reasurrance, and strenght to calmly deal with it.

I am really sorry if there are people I have disappointed or people I might have cajoled to live up to my expectations, perhaps my manipulations. Maybe, this is the real me- a very complicated person whom himself doesn't even know.

Mine is September. Is yours, too?

2007-11-26T00:13:00.000-08:00

I got tagged by Reyna Elena, Jeangrey and Parisukat with "One Year", I mean "Twelve Months", hihihi.

The rules are simple:

1.Mention the person who tagged you and create a link back to them.
2.Copy-paste the traits for all the twelve months (see below).
3.Pick your month of birth.
4.Highlight the traits that apply to you.
5.Tag 12 people and let them know by visiting their blogs and leaving a comment for them.
6.Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve done it!

I know how hard it is to be working on tags so I hope these twelve picks I am tagging may understand. Just feel free to respond if you are for it or not. Whatever it is, I won't take it against you. To be honest I myself sometimes feel reluctant in doing the tags but I have to get going as there are more sitting in piles for me. I hope guys this won't be much of a burden on you.

P.S To our fellow bloggers who have tagged me with other memes, please bear with me, yours will soon be posted here.

I was born in September.

SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.

Careful, cautious and organized.= I maybe careful and cautious, but to be honest, I am not organized.
Likes to point out people's mistakes.= I think I am guilty of this especially during my coaching sessions with my fellow teachers. I try to be discrete though at times and I openly welcome criticisms on my part. I acknowledge my own flaws even if there are times I tend to be a perfectionist.
Likes to criticize.= This thing I can't avoid, directly or indirectly. But I make it a point not to hurt others' feelings. On second thought, unexpressed criticism is more painful to bear, it is akin to backstabbing, so when I am compelled, I try to be open to avoid worse case scenarios.
Stubborn.= I am especially when I was younger. I have managed to understand and realize my weaknesses so it's being realistic when I get stubborn at times.
Quiet but able to talk well.= Being a highlander perhaps makes me a man of quietude but I am very much talkative when I get to know the people around.
Calm and cool.= No way, I easily freak out.
Kind and Sympathetic.= I think I am. I am basically a "pusong mamon." (soft-hearted)
Concerned and Detailed.= I sometimes care less when there seems to be no direction in the thing I do and what others do. But I am a detailed person.
Does work well.= I try to but there are times I also screw up and I lose focus.
Very confident.= Not too confident. I have my comfort zones.
Sensitive.= I try to but I think it is human instinct to be sensitive, some are just inconsiderate of others and they need to be reminded.
Good memory.= Mine I think is in its depreciating mode. I am getting older.
Loves to look for information.= I choose specific needs. I have my own interests.
Must control oneself when criticizing.= I think I really must. I try not to offend other people.
Fun to be around.=I hope some people find me that way. Unfortunately, I don't appreciate how fun to be with I am as a person but I always feel happy to be with those who are.
Secretive.= I am an introvert but I am getting over it. My life is an open book to most of the people I am comfortable with.
Loves leisure and traveling.= I do but the lack of funds and resources are my greatest obstacles.
Tends to bottle up feelings.= Yes, and it's humiliating that I burst them out when I sleep. I am a somniloquist and sometimes I talk about my hidden desires for men. (LOL)

In so saying, I am tagging the following:

Awannabe of The Life of Awannabe
Cyberpunk of Cyberpunk's So-Called Life
Glenz of Finally My Journey!
Maiylah of Maiylah's Snippets
Monaco of Keyboard Monologues
Morinn of Something To Talk About
Nick of Anything Goes
Nick of Personal Paranoia
Serena of Chat 'N Chill
Shannon of Another Blogista On The Spot
Shiera of Bisdak Babbles
Sparky of A Faeriestale

JANUARY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious. Loves to teach and be taught. Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. Likes to criticize. Hardworking and productive. Smart, neat and organized. Sensitive and has deep thoughts. Knows how to make others happy. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Rather reserved. Highly attentive. Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. Loves children. Loyal. Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. Very stubborn and money cautious.

FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizes dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions.

MARCH: Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others. Revengeful. Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners. Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody.

APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.

MAY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited. Spendthrift.

JUNE: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.

JULY: Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Likes to be quiet. Homely person. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.

AUGUST: Loves to joke. Attractive. Suave and caring. Brave and fearless. Firm and has leadership qualities. Knows how to console others. Too generous and egoistic. Takes high pride in oneself. Thirsty for praises. Extraordinary spirit. Easily angered. Angry when provoked. Easily jealous. Observant. Careful and cautious. Thinks quickly. Independent thoughts. Loves to lead and to be led. Loves to dream. Talented in the arts, music and defense. Sensitive but not petty. Poor resistance against illnesses. Learns to relax. Hasty and trusty. Romantic. Loving and caring. Loves to make friends.

SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.

OCTOBER: Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to take things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.

NOVEMBER: Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciate praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egotistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.

The Friendship Goes On

2007-11-25T10:12:00.000-08:00

Kuya M’s mother was working abroad at that time. The fact that he and his younger brother were given the autonomy to manage their house made it easier for me to penetrate their privacy. The same went with my friends who found refuge in that house at the most lowly times in their lives. Or we were just too young then to be governed by our whimsical impulse.

We had a friendship outside of consanguinity but our aspirations and desperations made us more than like blood-related individuals. We were under the tutelage of no less than our close friends whom we had looked up to as our own and vice versa. There were seven of us, two females and five males who kept our selves busy with budgeting, doing the household chores, maintaining our sanity through animated talks of our childhood memories, the good old days, of pop and rock music, of basketball and volleyball, and of our hopeful dreams if ever there were. Kuya M’s place witnessed the release of our quelled and smoldered anguish, desperation, and frustrations in life. That’s where we found temporary oblivion to our problems with the almost nightly fellowship with cheaply sold liquors.

Kuya M’s dad on the other hand would pay us a monthly visit with some sufficient supply of dried fish, fruits, vegetables and other stuff in spite of having to tend his other family in another city. I knew how Kuya M hated him but he was thankful they were not neglected.

Kuya M has a heart of gold. It would have been easy for him to tell us to go back to our respective homes, reunite with our families, and dine with them so tightening up his budget wouldn’t be a thing to worry but he didn’t. He and his younger brother would often fall short of their provisions because of the additional mouths to feed. But he fairly understood that we needed time to forget and recover and he was so generous enough to include us in his and his younger brother’s budget. In response to his loyal kindness and generosity, I and the others would do all the household chores, help him with his massive homework and school requirements in his third year as a Psychology Major, and sometimes do impossible things just to pinch in with our meals.

After sometime, we felt we were like real brothers and sisters living under the same roof separated by our biological parents but united by the golden friendship we still treasure until now.

Foraging For Food Before The Duck Hunt

2007-11-24T10:58:00.000-08:00

The days faded and I had not gone home. The weeks flourished so swiftly and it witnessed the growing desperation that had been dwelling on my execrable self. I was such a loser and I let it. There were times I would go to sleep with other friends who had eloped from their homes with the disturbing thoughts of my father. He was still a habitual drunkard then and it scared me to death thinking that anytime he might just storm in Kuya M’s ( a friend and the owner of the house where I found temporary shelter and consolation) house and forcibly drag me to get back home. Nothing of that sort happened though and I took it to signify that my parents must have understood my rebellious behavior.

I was deeply hurt and the longer I stayed at Kuya M’s, the more brooding the future got envisioned in me. I wasn’t hopeless but I acted I was. My frailty gave in to the thrills my youth could offer. I started sucking in on cigarettes more than I had used to and got more exposed to the different tastes of inebriants.

In some occasions, I’d get surprised to see some of my classmates paying me a visit or two. I’d hear them asking where I was in the village and my neighbors who knew me would direct them at Kuya M’s. They’d always convince me to go back to school and that there was enough time I could still catch up by taking special exams. They were also witness of my jeremiads but they didn’t get the reciprocation they’d wanted from me. I’d tell them how the recent event in my life had ripped off the zeal and passion I once had wrought and feared I’d never step back in college again.

The life at I had at Kuya M's was not a bed of roses. Living without their parents somehow taught us to depend on each other and find means for survival. It was a give and take relationship for a certain period of time. There were days we had to support ourselves foraging for food around the village. There were open neighbors’ yards with sweet potato tops and openly wide lattice of chayote. We’d furtively scour promising targets for our next meal and sheepishly deal with the hostile looks of some neighbors. A lot of them though were generous and understanding enough to let go of our notoriety. Mostly, we’d fare on some chayote tops mixed with a small can of sardines for days. We intermittently fared on these edible greens and though jobless as we were, we miraculously survived for several weeks.

I was on the verge of giving up realizing that my pride might have worsened my situation. I thought I was ready to go back home.

Before the Duck Hunt

2007-11-23T02:17:00.001-08:00

For several days, I had to arduously hit the books almost memorizing each page, word per word. I had to shut down the door from the insouciant dealings with my friends. I was sleepless, expectant, and anxious a few days before the Mid-term Exams.

My preliminary marks impassioned me to better my studies. It was an enticing headstart of the making of my future. How propitious it was to look forward to a time when my parents could worry no more of their financial responsibility for my education. I wanted to be a part of the Dean's List, eager to devoid my parents of miraculously providing for my tuition fee. I just wanted to help them and help myself.

Then the day came when my dad told me something that would ruin all my plans. That he had no money. That he was sorry and all he could do was to push me to talk to the university's treasurer at the registrar's office, to make a promisory note, just take the exams anyway and pay them by the time my dad's ready.

But my intense emotions and outright frustration didn't give my dad the chance to be heard. I remember leaving him in the room and just got out of the house to vent out my rage. After dinner, I returned home, quiet. My face was a picture of failure and so was my dad who couldn't talk anymore. No words came out of his mouth until everybody at home except me had to go to sleep. I knew how sorry my dad was, and I too felt sorry for my compulsion contrived me to abscond. Before the neighbors' roosters made their competitive racket, I saw myself with an old bag and my clothes in it.

I ended up at a friend's house just around the village. That's where I found the shoulders of a comforting outlet, talked with my friends, heard and felt their commiseration. How I wanted to forget the recent event that I started indulging in drinking, severe smoking, and willfully disregarded giving my dad and myself a second chance. I rebelled and found temporary refuge in a place so familiar with my parents and my siblings.

I felt better as the days progressed. My friends place served as my convalescence. Not a day went on though seeing my brother through the shutters, knocking at the door, calling out my name. He would talk to some of my friends and tell them I was being asked by my parents to go back home and that my parents were worried about me. My brother had to go home frustrated since my friends were so protective and one word was enough for them to lie about my whereabouts.

My heart is so weak and sometimes hiding my emotions is hard to deal with. "I will soon recover, I will soon go back home." I told myself while looking at my brother walk away.

Vitamin BTB -Be The Blog

2007-11-21T01:11:00.000-08:00

There's more I would like to present to our dear fellow bloggers out there because of their notable blogging efforts but my time pulls my eagerness to give them right off the bat. For now let me start doing my share in bestowing this award to the following:

You can check out their blogs yourself to realize how much of a vitamin they serve to perk up your reading pleasure. There are equally deserving blogs I'd like to share this with but it's already a redundancy.

Be The Blog Awardees

Cyberpunk of Cyberpunk's So-Called Life
Jehrad of Bust A Change
Kimchihead of The Kimchihead
Loz of Sunrays and Saturdays
Mama Reynz of Reyna Elena
Mon of Keyboards Monologue
Morinn of Something to Talk About
Nick of Anything Goes
Shannon of Another Blogista On The Spot
Shiera of Bisdak Babbles
Sparky of A Faeries Tale

To the recipients please visit Me and My Drum for the suitable badge of your choice.

And to Awannabe ,Parisukat , and Ivy -my heartfelt gratefulness extends to the interior of my ears and the flung corners of my mouth. (Can you imagine how you just made me smile?) This could be corny and an exaggeration but there is no other way I could express my warmest thanks to you.

Moving Forward

2007-11-20T11:06:00.001-08:00

It was like a dream that thrilled my passion to auspiciously look ahead of my future. But when my dad told me he could no longer maintain my schooling, I had to succumb to despondency. I felt totally dejected.

My farewell was dragging me to abandon my ambition. My heart was crying. I knew I did my best, that I could prove myself better than most of my classmates, that my teacher adored the mental capacity I was trying to better. It was after all a fanfaronade, a parade of my wit that would end up in a tragedy of sort, intercepted and underappreciated.

That bitter year of 1999 somehow lost my momentum to regain the positive thoughts I had for studying. There were attempts of going back to school, some scholarship grants, a close relative who volunteered her support for my education, drilling my own pocket when ESL teaching paved its way for me-all these proved futile though to still aim for the diploma which everybody thinks is the measure of one’s worth in the society.

Why do people look down on me if I have no diploma and I can speak English better than they do? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and they ask me to work on their essays and thesis? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and I always have to teach them how grammatically incorrect their sentence construction is? Why do people look down on me If I have no diploma and I can speak English with eloquence sounding like an American Native with the twang of an Igorot Americanized during the World War II? Why do my fellow teachers look down on me if I have no diploma but most of our Korean students choose me to be their teacher, give me the highest score for teachers’ evaluation, and place me as the top teacher in the “Big Five”? Why do these teachers with doctorate degrees look down on me If I have no diploma and I toppled them when the school master conducted a rigorous grammar exam for teachers at the Korean School where I worked at? Why did I have to leave them trailing tens of points behind me If I have no diploma and I deserved the promotion but never got it? Why do people look down on me if I have no diploma and I have been working for almost ten years now while many graduates bum around and can't even make it to the mushrooming call centers in the country? I have jumped from one job to another and I wished I had two bodies to grab more.

The foregoing above should suffice as to why I need to harp on this, that I am an undergraduate student. No one wanted to call me a professional and I am taking this opportunity to call my self one.

This is my blog anyway. I am also proud to say that I am gay.

Thanks for the Friendship

2007-11-19T04:07:00.000-08:00

I have always regarded Friendship as one of the best gifts in life. Sometimes though, I feel guilty for taking it for granted. It is sweet to give, receive, and build friendship in this intertwined world of possibilities.

I'd like to personally thank Parisukat, Monaco, Jeangrey, and Ambo for tagging me with this Friendship badge. You make me feel special. The following people are also special to me no matter how short the time we have had to know each other. I know this is just the commencement of something worth cherishing in the blogosphere which I hope will take us somewhere only our hearts can express in its gratitude someday. I have found friends in you guys and this I will forever treasure.

Awannabe of The Life of Awannabe
Bill of From the Boondocks
Chuckie of A Day In The Life
Chuva of Male Maximum Beauty
Crazed_heck of My Blogville-Life as it is
Cyberpunk of Cyberpunk's So-Called Life
Deb of Let Me Go On and On
Femikey of Femikey Sketch Blog
Fruity of Fruitspecies
Glenz of Finally My Journey
Ivy of Chuvaness...Chakaness...Eclavu
Jackie of The Painted Veil
Jehrad of Bust A Change
Kathycot of Buhay ni Misis Kathy
Kenji of Bakla Ako May Reklamo
Kimchihead of The Kimchihead
Lotusflower of The Ibanag Family
Mama Reynz of Reyna Elena
Mangelnoah of A Field of Blazing Fire Trees
Maiylah of Maiylah's Snippets
Marjie of So Marjienalized
Morinn of Something To Talk About
Nelly of Nellioness. For Soul, For Mind, For Body
Nick of Anything Goes
Paisley of Secret, Secret, I've got a secret
Rocky of Bloggingmix
Serena of Chat 'N Chill
Shannon of Another Blogista On The Spot
Shiera of Bisdak Babbles
Sparky of A Faeries Tale
Staggo of Gay Bipolar Guy
Vin of The Adventures of Vin

Thank you so much.

phone chat dating

2007-11-18T22:22:00.000-08:00

I know a few people who found their true love through the Internet. One is happily married and in Sweden, another one already has two children enjoying the sight of her blue-eyed children in New Zealand, and the other one just flew to Germany to heed to the marriage proposal she got from her loyal boyfriend whom she met through chatting online.

For those people who are lonely, loveless, and are looking for their ideal partners in life, Friendsation might just be the first step for you. It is a free community website that facilitates live chat thru live Chat thru multiple mediums.

Signing up is free so why not try it? It is an online site which provides you an avenue for free dating, free live chat, and free phone chat.

Looking Beyond The Horizon

2007-11-18T11:06:00.000-08:00

My childish impulse made me believe I wanted to be an engineer. In my adolescence though, one simple yet inevitable revelation changed all that-the revelation of my sexuality. This irreversible revelation was harder to chew than some smoked horse meat. I had to swallow it then, accept it as a part of my wholeness.

"I haven't heard of any gay engineers," I heard myself say in highschool. It was a quick decision. I just realized I had to bury that dream of mine even if there were attempts of evasion, believing I wasn't created as one of those abhorred and despised by many people. I didn't want to give up that dream I have since envisioned but the inflamed passion for writing I just discovered of myself handed the verdict I had to be served in weaving my future.

Prohibiting myself to succumb to the notoriety stigmatized by homosexuality, I had to believe in a while that I was made a man and the femininity in me wasn't indelible. But I was mistaken, the more I tried to elude the reality of my nature, the more pain I had to go through all my life. But to top it all, I wanted to prove something that would ameliorate the ingrained, grotesque picture associated with homosexuality. Though my primary dream was a meek witness of my evolving sexuality, a witness stifled in oblivion, I grinned with optimism to ready myself for a detour.

I took up Mass Communications in college. Primordially, the course took me to a smooth sailing ship in a serene sea, mirroring the azure skies that lit my earnest dream. I was determined to be a journalist. Until one day, the swells of the sea disembarked me from my journey. Until one day, despite of trying so hard, the course I was taking turned rutted. I dropped out of school, derailed by lack of funds at a spitting distance from the terminus. I never graduated.

Optimistic

2007-11-17T09:09:00.000-08:00

What was your dream in your yester years? When you were younger, do you remember an instance how you would tell with fervor, your dreams to your parents? Do you recall a moment in a classroom when one of your teachers wanted to know how you envisioned a career for yourself? When you stood up with paramount dignity telling everyone what you wanted to be was the noblest in the world? With how you'd take pride comparatively prattling with your playmates of your precarious ambitions?

I remember myself with those kindled dreams in my innocence. Words rolling off my tounge were like the reflection and assurance of a bright future awaiting me, in retrospect. How sweet it was to always tell people, "I wanted to be a Civil Engineer." I held on to that dream passioned by how my dad would always brag about his engineer friend, that an engineer makes a lot of money and plans, and builds the most durable and elegant buildings and houses, bridges and roads. Well, that was how I was told.

Later though as I soon left the images of my boyhood, and my innocence opened to the more complex realities in life, I realized that dreaming too much in my younger years was a picture of bitterness. As I was going through different struggles in life, the picture of the world began to unfold together with the departure of my ignorance. It proved that it was more painful battling a well of obscurity impending to ruin your most cherished ambitions.

In my teen years, that word-of-mouth dream of my younger years slowly vanished. I was probably doing my best priviliged with the education my parents afforded me in a public school but the path I took was rudderless until one of my mentors in highschool discovered something in me-that I could write.

I was zealous and a vim of do-good nature in me was ablaze anew. I had a new direction to take. "I wanted to be a journalist." I told my classmates and teacher on my first day as a freshman in a prestigious university in my town.

How I ended up being a teacher? It's for another post.

Emergency Cash

2007-11-17T08:55:00.000-08:00

I just can’t seem to have enough. It’s not that I am complaining about how much money I make out of my job but seeing me habitually strapped is inevitable. There is some satisfaction in a son being able to help his parents and siblings religiously but trying hard to make both ends meet sometimes suggests that the son should just live on his own. I know I can do that but a dutiful son to his parents says otherwise.

When my boss was still here in the Philippines, there were countless times I had to hesitantly ask him for cash advance and payday loans. My all-of-a-sudden-presence at his office in an ancillary mode intuitively meant I needed something. I needed money. My boss was kind and understanding enough during those times. Perhaps, if my memory serves me right, only one instance of being turned down, pushes me not to recall the times. I know he hated the idea of it since borrowing and lending money isn’t so common in his culture. But knowing I support not only myself but my family, he had to relinquish his indifference.

It’s been months since I made the decision to end my gambling addiction. Glad, I can do better now in terms of my financial obligations to my family. Often times though, I am caught daydreaming about the next payday. The fact is, I am impecunious most of the time always fumbling where to get immediate cash, especially now that my boss has not been around for almost a year.

The Solution.

Getting cash advance online is a sure relief. It offers you quick cash assistance to fund your personal checking or savings account. One good thing about it is that it does not require you a credit check. In addition, the loan approval criteria is based on a few other factors that most employed people meet such as employment, status, minimum income, and an active checking or savings account.

Pay day loans or short term loans also prove helpful. Usually the cash advance checks are processed faster, you can apply anonymously from the public, complete the application in the privacy of your own home, no standing in line at a store for hours, etc.

Got the thoughts of it. The next time I need cash and no one seems to come in handy, I surely know where to get help. I should try it next time.

Missing Something

2007-11-16T02:22:00.000-08:00

I finally let loose last night.

I had the intention to take a leisurely walk but it turned out the other way. It was tinged with horror. It was past midnight and I felt the urge to back out. The visibility of my fear made it self manifest in my walk. It was a moonless sky but the vicinity was bright perhaps because of the coruscating neon signs and the beaming lights from the high-rise buildings.

I kept turning my head, looking high and low but all I could see were a few vehicles speeding up for the trip on their way home. I couldn't see any figure on the road except the thought that I walked past the habitually sleeping guard at the basement before my exit of the building.

The walk saw me yearning for something, something I had done in the past which I wish I had ejected entirely off me. Still something in me wanted to burst out at that moment, to break the silenced worldly passion in my entity. To push the limit I have imposed to myself, stifle my restriction. I knew I didn't like to do it but my personality spoke to my other side. There was something I wanted to do. But the time was forbidding. It took an unbiased interruption of my craving as there were no victims the animalistic nature in me could prey on.

Accompanied by three bottles of extra strong beer, a cup of coffee, some smoked horse meat, and the noise in that joint along the main road, I took the pleasure to treat myself after a hard day's work. It was payday and that was strange of me. I would rather go home and have some rest. The ambiance was made much stranger without the presence of AJ, the thoughts of him was my company. "You are alone, where's your friend?" The lady server asked.

It was different without AJ's voice animatedly singing his favorite oldies and his temporal rejuvenation singing today's songs. True, it was a night of a slice of freedom but it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to.

I came back to the office satisfied with the temporary happiness a small beer could give but my soul was empty.

I ruined his future

2007-11-15T00:30:00.000-08:00

It's been raining the whole day. It was rather cold and AJ and I snuggled in the cab waiting for passengers as we exited the building where the Korean Agency is. That's where my boss wires the money to pay our teachers' services in this company. As the cab motioned, a faint perturbance grew in me seeing how the driver looked. He didn't seem trustworthy. He was a dumpy man in his forty's and his face didn't show any sight of amiability. He looked stern and cold.

"One of those haughty drivers who skillfully prey on uncomplaining passengers by rerouting and speeding up the tick of the meter." I thought. Had it not been raining, I would have told AJ to take another cab. Once inside, the driver mumbled something in disgust knowing we had to take the jam-packed road en route to the office. He had no choice.

Upon our return to the office, AJ helped me sort out the teacher's individual pay by sealing them in small brown envelopes. He had to leave right away to deposit some cash to Christian's bank account. (He is my driver brother.) It's Byron's birthday next week, my youngest brother and it's been a while we haven't talked, not even texted.

I thought it befitting to send him some cash for his birthday. I know he had been bugging me a year ago about buying him an MP3 player but at his age, I just realized that he could buy what he wants with the petty cash.

I don't like to surmise it as a bribe for the broken promise I made him. He has been bumming around at home though I know how eager he is to go to school. It has been two years since the promise, If I only had supported him to the hilt, he would have been a second year student by now. Will he accept my gift? I feel heavy for having deprived him of going to school with his closest friends. That's what he wanted, enrolling in a college with his contemporaries. Now, he is left behind and all I think in regrets is how I have been as a brother to him. I feel that I ruined his future. His chance to have made his future brighter was dimmed by my mistake in the past. I had gambled his tuition fee and the sharp twinge of conscience continues to haunt me.

I'd better have some beers to get over this, for the meantime.

Caught -The conclusion of the previous post

2007-11-14T02:32:00.000-08:00

The man in his twenty's was wearing a pair of blue denim pants and a blue, checked short-sleeved polo shirt. His sight oozed a certain charm in his facade, a virile man at the height of almost 6 feet. He held a Manila envelope and laid it on the table as he took a seat. He turned his head and gave a quick look around. He pulled out a neatly folded hanky as perspiration was pouring down his face.

It was extremely hot in the lunchroom as it was getting more crowded. He wiped his sweat, fixed his tousled shirt and surveyed the room just like a first-timer. He saw me glaring at him but he didn't bother. At first, it didn't strike me that this guy was a good object for this animal lust in me. (At least for my eyes and wildest imagination.)

I think I had forgotten my craving of the daily gossips and the hunger marching in my stomach earlier was put to a halt. His well-built muscle in the arms and his luscious derriere which I prioritized to peek at when he stood craning his neck to look for a more convenient spot, thrilled the hormones in me. I looked at him again, this time sizing up the contour of his face and the complexion of his body. He's got a well-toned skin judging on his arms alone. And though he displayed a bit of a chubby face, his shaved head proved befitting to compensate for that. He's definitely not my ideal type of man but he could be my daylight fantasy.

In the middle of my woolgathering, he suddenly rose and loped towards the counter. He caught me reading him so I had to pretend I was reading the newspaper. His second look was certainly meaningful. He figured I was gay especially when one of Ate Liza's servers started calling me "Sis." While reading, I couldn't avoid leering at him as he got back to his seat. I got the feeling that he was still looking at me wanting to give me that straight-in-the-eyes confrontation, as if he wanted to ask me something perhaps, "Do you like me? Why are you staring at me like that?" The simple thought of that aroused the weakness in me. Handsome men are my weakness.

A well of blood started to gather around my face. I was blushing and he knew I had been looking at him all the while. I couldn't look straight at him anymore, I stooped lower, closer to the newspaper which I actually wasn't reading at all because I was reading him. While avoiding any eye contact that could worsen my humiliation, my mind kept trying to envision a guy near the entrance wearing a blue polo shirt. I lifted the paper gradually upward 'til it was covering my face. More than twenty minutes had gone without looking at his direction, I was able to gather my strength, my face still tinted with the mark of embarrassment.

When the flurry of activity in the cafeteria had lessened, I braved my eyes to finally throw a glimpse at his direction, if he was still there. To my relief, he was gone and I saw a scrawny guy wearing a blue scruffy shirt instead from the printing press who took on his seat there. I went to Ate Liza and asked about this guy who momentarily satisfied my fantasy. "He has gone. He didn't find what he wanted to eat so he left right away." "WHAT?!"

Gotcha!

2007-11-13T08:12:00.000-08:00

The sunray was already filtering through my window when I decided to get up. I sank in bed late last night and I just had another nightmare. But it's not the one that leaves you gasping for breath nor the one that puts you gaping with your restricted howl.

Must be a good day for me as I examined myself in the mirror. The bulged wound on my lip has shrunken and I felt heaven. It was terrible the past days, avoiding to eat this 'n that and being restrained by AJ from smoking ,albeit I thought it was a blessing in disguise to remind me of how long I have been a smoker and it's about time I cut the addiction. I have been so dependent on cigarettes and I am just so desperate to make attempts at quitting. I have tried tapering off to no avail. I went cold turkey but it was just a cycle. Now I still suck up on these cancer sticks.

After making myself freshly clean and neat, I dashed for my station, turned on my PC and disappeared moments later for a meal upstairs.

I saw myself seated at a table next to the counter at the cafeteria. As usual the place was in a flurry and I had to wait to be served. Trying to hold my hunger, I threw a glance at the display of foods and after giving myself some assurance that I'd be served, I grabbed the tabloid(BULGAR) halfway inserted in the drawer to my right. Reading the newspaper has been a habit to satisfy my piqued curiosity of the showbiz news. In short, I love gossips and people there in the lunchroom often call me "tsismosa" (gossip monger) hehehe.

While engrossed in today's showbiz headlines, I spotted a guy who just managed to take a seat at a table near the entrance. He must be a new customer, I thought...To be continued...

Dilemma?

2007-11-12T08:32:00.000-08:00

Today, AJ and I left the house a few minutes away from midday. The thoughts of what seemed like a confrontation with Ate Gemma persisted in my head. I kept thinking about how embarrassed I was yesterday. Did it matter if I answered or not? What would have been her reaction if I had lied? If I had told the truth I didn't have a girlfriend, would have that diminished the manliness I have been trying to project for myself after a while? Wasn't my blushing enough to keep her silent and never bother to pester me again anyway?

'Out of the frying pan and into the fire.' This cliche should explain well of how I feel now and what I have always felt while at the pretense of cohabitating with AJ. I love him and he loves me. I want to be free but he is scared and so I am. There was a time he readied himself for the revelation but that was the time I changed my mind. I don't want to ruin the respect he has earned for himself, and attributed to him by his family and mostly his neighbors. There are just so many consequences to deal with. So long as we have each other, we'll try to deal with all these adversaries that come our way. Though it means constricting our rage of this egregious picture of sexual discrimination.

That wasn't the first time my gender was put to test. People have always been so speculative, skeptical, of who and what I am. They might have some faint ideas but these are bridled for fear of hurting me or staving me off humiliation. On one hand, there are offendingly blunt people who want to see my embarrassment, see me contract like an anathema, laugh at the ridicule of my sexuality. I enjoyed the previous jobs I had had but I had to leave. My upbringing did not prepare me to readily ward off such innuendos. For years, I have learned how to keep the pain filtering through my human individuality. But I surely know who I am.

Pretension

2007-11-11T08:45:00.000-08:00

This morning, AJ and I woke up with plastered enthusiasm on our faces. I felt a lot better than yesterday and hoped for a total recovery after a few more rounds of medication. I was optimistic I could make it to work the next day.

There was a growing excitement in me as we were enjoying our cupfuls of coffee in the kitchen. We had planned to give our room a new look and finally to have its interior kiss the refreshing sight of a purplish shade of blue coating. AJ had always wanted us to spare some time and money for the painting of his room. We just had been lingering on the plan because we were focused on something else then. I was noisily sipping the hot coffee in my cup while thinking of my family back home. The aromatic elemental experience in my cup reminded me to give my sister a ring later if they ever received the cash I sent last Monday.

AJ interrupted my enamor of enjoying a bit of caffeine when he asked, "What do you want for breakfast?" without the attached "Hon" at the end. "You can get me any vegies, anything not oily," I replied with a command of manliness in my voice. That's not the usual me though when time gives us the feeling that the world is our own, in our hands and we have all the freedom to express how we feel towards each other. Unfortunately, AJ's home isn't just ours but his family's and the extension of it. I don't complain though that the congestion is seemingly evident in this three-storey house of theirs. But the many pairs of unsuspecting eyes, ironically is something I have to contend with. It isn't an assurance that I should show any signs of sissiness through my actions and words. {The word "bakla" (gay) is a word of mouth here and kids even at the age of three use it as a weapon to leave their playmates crying in tantrums. Adults as well as children either poke fun at each other using homophobic words. The way they do, signifies an innate prejudice against homosexuals.} At least, I still have a space to breathe and the way I am being treated is befitting to my satisfaction. An added bonus is the fact that I can be with AJ though I don't know for how long.

And you thought we painted the room ourselves? No, we had to pay JB's service, the eldest son of "Ate Gemma", one of our friendliest neighbors who frequents the house to play some card games with AJ's mom and sister. AJ insisted we didn't have to hire JB to do the makeover since we can do it ourselves. (Gosh, can I call it a makeover even if it's just a mere painting session? (LOL))But it was my decision to pay for JB's service. "Does it hurt your pocket if we could give a little help to JB and his family?" I asked and searched AJ's face for an answer. "Ate Gemma's" husband has been working in a far away city and has not come back home yet for several months now. It's really hard for the family to find means for survival without the breadwinner's financial support.

In the end, we concluded to hire JB for a few hours while I read some books and AJ replace his mom for the awaiting card game downstairs. A few minutes later, while I was absorbed in my reading, AJ came telling me I had to take over while he go to the restroom.

"Seems like you and AJ are both planning to take home your own girlfriends," 'Ate Gemma' greeted me as I plopped down the small bench. "I looked at her a wink trying to hold the gush of blood rushing up my face. I obviously blushed but I never spoke a word. "After your room gets painted, you have to put a divider in between and you can spend your honeymoon with your girlfriends," she suggested with the intention to give a crack. "Do you have a girlfriend in Baguio?" She finally asked. AJ came back in time to proceed with the game before I could give a reply. I was relieved.

Bodily Heat

2007-11-10T17:23:00.000-08:00

"I am having the chill." I told Ji Hyoung, my last student last night. "I'm sorry to hear that,” she said with a well of concern in her high pitched voice. "I'm just glad it's Friday and this is my last class." I told her. "Maybe, you have the fever, she solicitously interrupted.

I was so lucky I managed to finish the class while trying to manipulate the bodily quake of an impending illness with a blanket wrapped around my torso. If my memory serves me right, the last time I got a fever was more than a year ago.

After the class, I uttered a sigh, looked at the ceiling and maneuvered myself to my room at the office. I kept thinking to myself how sickly I have been in the past months. There should be something wrong with me which my mental extension couldn’t seem to fathom at that moment. AJ was there waiting since I insisted he wait for me that time. Maybe, I am just so attached to the companionship we have every Friday night. He had already packed my laundry and minutes were counting before we took off. I scooted in Teacher Harry's office to say goodbye. He himself will leave the office next day morning.

We safely left the building walking past the snoring guard at the basement. It was almost 12:00 midnight. “This guard is not doing his job.” I thought. It was dim and a number of cars were quietly parked, listening to our echoing footsteps. Way past the exit of the basement, I gazed up at the starless sky with God in my thoughts. I have lots of things to tell and ask Him in my prayers.

As we were doing our weekly night walk towards the bus stop, AJ seemed uneasy. He kept pressing the back of his palm on my neck and forehead. “You indeed are feverish,” he said with the doleful expression on his face. He was trying his best to make me comfortable, wrapping his right arm around my waist while his left busied with my backpack.

“Let’s buy some aspirin,” I suggested. I had been thinking about taking some medicine before boarding the bus on the highway. As much as possible though, I wanted to avoid any medicine intake considering it would have some negative effects on my liver disease. But the idea that I may not be able to get over the fever before Monday next week, scared the shit out of me. That’s one thing my boss hated about his employees-absence, and a single one malimprints a long lasting bad impression. Well, that’s what my boss always reminds me when hiring teachers on probation.

“You have to stuff your tummy with something before taking medications,” AJ said. My face glared like a child. I felt like a baby being pampered. A few moments later, we ended up at a newly opened cafeteria by the road. I ordered some smoked horse meat side-dished with half a slice of a red egg and a tomato while AJ had some grilled pork. I am absolutely an eating machine that I finished the meal even before AJ was halfway his. The cashier who also was the food server tried to hold her bemused self looking at my spick and span banana leaf.

I’m still running a fever but I am glad the throbbing agony that has dwelled on my head has ceased. Looking forward to a better day tomorrow.

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A Glowing Freedom

2007-11-09T03:43:00.000-08:00

"I want to take a shower," I thought to myself yesterday. Normally, that part of my routine is done in the evening but the sultry heat yesterday afternoon was so compelling. My toughened butt left the station and readied myself for the splash. Absolutely, nothing compares a blissful bath in cold water.

I stepped in the bathroom half-naked and I realized there was no shampoo. There are times though I can get by on soap for my thick crown but not today. With this kinky and firm keratinous filaments of mine? I managed to put on my clothes back and headed for a nearby store where I could buy a sachet.

That was the first time the whole day I ever stepped out of the building. The radiance from our computer monitors in the office must have obscured my sense of sight that when I got out of the building, I felt some active force lay its hands on my physicality. It was unexplainable. The world outside was aglow. I looked at the people around, the jeepneys congesting the street,the several skycrapers up to the band of clouds perfectly matched with the cobalt skies. I was cut loose from the confinement I created for myself. A matter of choice, I should say. My boss is still in Korea and it would be a different story when he comes.

I went to the store as if sauntering, like a child detached from what their parents worry about most of the day.

Freedom, it gives me power but I don't have that much. Do you?

Yearning for something

2007-11-08T08:42:00.000-08:00

Just got a shower this afternoon and how refreshing it was to get out of the bath soaking away the grime behind and washing off the sweltering heat on your body. I wrapped my body with the indigo towel AJ just took to work with him yesterday. It's soft and clean and it reminded me of how it feels to be floating on water while it joyously laps your wholeness. (I surely miss swimming.) AJ's mom has been doing my laundry for years now and I am just so thankful she takes care of my clothes like I am a son, or a daughter in-law? (LOL)

I'd been sitting across from my monitor the whole day visiting other blogs and leaving comments on them. This morning, I was happy to share with Teacher Jenny some printed affirmations in forms of certificates and tailor-made door hangers I got from this website.

"Wow, where did you get that?" Teacher Jenny asked after I pulled out the printable ones of the HP machine. "I like this one," she said with so much glare in her face that she headed for my station and checked the website. She was looking at one of the door hangers with this message:

We are not here but we are not there either
If you figure it out consider yourself enlightened

For sure, I chanced upon this blog once over at blogcatalog and I found my way back through awannabe's blog site. Her site was privileged to be given a review and advice by the author.

There isn't much stress today. Some busy students decided to cancel their classes to entertain their visitors at home. Teacher Harry and I were so quiet minding our own business in our respective stations. The lights were turned off almost the whole day. Instead, the lustrous monitors shed brilliance in the room. I turned on the lights at past twilight. I felt some renascence, the verisimilitude of freedom.

I had planned to take a walk at a nearby park after midnight earlier this week. I've been hankering for those good old days where a brisk walk sends me some sense of unexplainable delectation. But the days have counted and it seems I need to make another plan.

Can't Let Go of Them

2007-11-08T00:03:00.001-08:00

This one is from awannabe and it's about the "Three Things I can't let go of Meme." Sounds like three things I can't live without. Have a ride.

~*(^(00)^)*~AJ and I have been together for more than three years minus the several months he had gone abroad. Though I am uncertain of the love I have for him, I am sure to myself that it would be an agonizing moment to see him away from my side. He is my best companion and he is the smile on my face.

~*(^(00)^)*~Though I seem to have some thoughts of looking for a better job perhaps trying my fortune to land in another career and a well-compensated one with a better position in a bigger company, teaching has been a passion for me. I see myself as a teacher in the future while I can and it would be the last kind of work I want to engage in for the rest of my life.

~*(^(00)^)*~Sure there were times I went astray, I had bitter moments of struggles with the family I belong in. I had a prolonged cold war with my dad, my brothers may have hurt me because of my queer personality, they may seem apathetic when they don't see my importance, but I just love them so dearly. Given the chance for a second life, I'd surely choose to be with them again and treasure every moment we'd share, for good times or bad times.

I am tagging no one in particular but anyone interested to share theirs is very much appreciated.

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Want to sell something online?

2007-11-08T00:01:00.000-08:00

The advent of the internet amidst modernization and globalization has surely changed people’s way of life all over the world. The popularity of the internet has surely taken us in awe that everybody seems to want to have a computer and facilitate everything and anything they could imagine doable on the net. The internet has so far took its spot as one of the most accessed form of media these days. You can watch videos, read books, keep yourself posted of the latest news and information, download, and even buy the things that you like at the comfort of your home. And you thought that was all?

Now, with the presence of ecommerce software , you can also actually sell anything online.

For entrepreneurs and businessmen who want to find success in selling their products online, this Shopping cart software is for you. At Ashop Commerce , setting up your own shopping cart or building your online store capable of making it compete with the web’s most powerful sites with a simple, low monthly fee is easy as 1, 2, 3.

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They Just Keep Popping Out

2007-11-07T08:32:00.000-08:00

Turning and twisting myself to somehow manage to sleep comfortably in my bed had been deprived of me for almost two months. It's just so hard to be wincing when three wounds, the size of a one-peso coin, give you the feeling of a voodoo doll being pricked on with the slightest single move that agitates them. But the hell is over. I have gotten over the wounds, leaving me some scars on the right leg.

At my age, I wouldn't have to worry anymore whether "sebo de macho" or any enguent might still help them regenerate. I'd care less seeing those spots. I got big legs anyway but the irony of it is I love wearing shorts because I still haven't adapted my warm-blooded body to the extreme heat here in Manila. That speaks well for an Igorot who grew up in a city with cool weather ranging from 10-22 degrees celsius temperature, and the slowly diminishing flora of pine trees, huh.

While on cloud nine telling you guys I have gotten over what I thought was leg ulcer, I am saddened on the other hand that another thing just popped out on my upper lip. Am I cursed? They just keep popping out. First, it was a pimple, then a sty, then small wound, then another popped out, then another. I thought that was it. I was wrong. Now, another watery bulge on my lip just strips me off enjoying my meals and sucking up on my cigar. Sigh...

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The Flat-Nosed Me

2007-11-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

There are parts of me that I feel are beautiful, but they don't have anything to do with my nose.-Sally Field

How I miss some funny moments and conversations with my past students and fellow teachers. When I was in Baguio, they'd always ask me about the acqueousness of my nose. I'd tell them, it just sweats a lot for no apparent reason. I never thought that the cliched belief of associating jealousy with a sweaty nose was something that would leave me red in the face.

I hated my nose when I was younger and I felt doomed everytime I'd look at my brothers-they being endowed with fine looking ones. All the while, I avoided my nose put in the limelight of any conversation or small talks. I wished it was never appendaged to me.

After years of drenching my nose to no avail, and the futile attempt of suppressing the humiliation and the ridicule attached to it, I got the hang of allowing it the center of banter among my friends and acquaintances during lunch breaks in the dining hall, short breaks in the lounge. Eventually, my nose became my pride.

I took those negative comments I'd hear from people in a light manner. Then all of sudden, I just saw myself gliding with the jokes and puns about it.

"You are very lucky to have those grecian noses," I'd often tell people who are born with naturally perfect noses. But I don't sulk, believing mine is a parking lot.

Once a close friend of mine told me something which really made my nose look a little bit prominent. That moment was so magical that it made me think my nose is not the most desperate thing God ever created.

"You know, you have to be happy with your nose, it is just a parking lot after all. You know Teacher Pamela, don't you?" He asked. "Yes," I said quickly, and then my imagination started to soar with the imaginary mirror by my side. I had not been so familiar with Teacher Pamela since she was just one of the new teachers then and we would always be assigned to teach different students in different condo's in the subdivision. I wasn't so particular with how she looked like but I had to be when my close friend said, "Teacher Pamela, has an airport in her visage!" I was so naive of the wisecrack he just struck me up with. A few seconds later, we both burst into insane laughs.

That would often break the ice in some of those cherished conversations with my students and some old fellow teachers. Little by little, I learned how to accept things as they are-that this is my nose and it tells so much about my personality. I am proud of it and my dream of having a nose surgery in the future is bygone. I want to cherish the moment when most of my students would daub their fingers each day on this shiny nose of mine.

Those words keep ringing in my head. "Your nose and the sweat on it are a lucky charm."

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Jumping on the bandwagon

2007-11-05T01:09:00.000-08:00

What’s the buzz? Have you signed up for smorty yet? Well, this is my take on the bandwagon of making money online and smorty is surely one on top of the list. Smorty gives you lots of opportunities to get paid to blog about a wide variety of products from its advertisers. Smorty is a service connecting advertisers with bloggers.

Once you have your smorty account, you’ll be amazed as how easy it is to use this service. It has a user-friendly dashboard which makes it easy for you to manage your account. Its dashboard facilitates you with its list of opportunities, your pending tasks, deadline reminders to keep you abreast, and the figures you have to making yourself a few notches away from making it big time.

Why not? I have just recently signed up for smorty and I am excited about what it can do not only to enhance my blogging experience by writing unique opinion posts with links back to the advertiser’s site but by also helping me make both ends meet as I get paid for blog advertising Smorty has affiliate programs wherein advertisers can create a campaign and have bloggers write unique review articles about services and link back to the website using specific keywords. See, smorty indeed is the most effective tool to increase search engine rankings by blog advertising. It won’t be long before blog advertising sends advertisers rankings skyrocketing.

Going To Church

2007-11-04T09:35:00.000-08:00

The power went off just a few minutes back. I thought I wouldn't be able to post anything tonight. It just so happened that some inconsiderate neighbors had the nerve to bypass their actual electric consumption. Wire tapping, using jump wires, looting of electrical wires-these are so common practices of some self-oriented people where AJ lives.

AJ was quick, he got a candle downstairs near the kitchen. Candles are a necessity in a place where the least of worst things habitually happen. The candle gave us temporary brightness in the room while I was busily fanning myself with a brand new folder I darted into on the desk to my left. I was quiet and obviously irritated of the earlier bearable heat which just doubly took its toll on my easily drenched body.

The power was restored by the time the folder was half-way dilapidated.

In my recap, I saw myself at the church this afternoon. Having said my prayers intended for my family, my loved ones, my health, etc. gave me some kind of inner peace and tranquility. AJ and I left the church with the resonance of the renewed vigor in us, in our spirituality. I want to go there next week again and want to keep it as regular as possible if I could.

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Get to know me better

2007-11-04T09:00:00.000-08:00

Parisukat had me tagged with this interesting meme. Take a look.

GET TO KNOW ME BETTER meme (Part I) by meatball

Q1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
>I was going to school though would often skip classes.

Q2. What were you doing 1 Year ago?
>Video calling my students for my online classes. (Masagwa ba pakinggan?)

Q3. What are 5 snacks you enjoy?
>Let's not forget chicheria (junk foods) like 'boy bawang' and piattos, pearly shell, spaghetti, and pancit canton

Q4. What are 5 songs you know the lyrics to?
>Better Man, I Believe, Closer You and I, Qing Fei de Yi, I'll Always Love You

Q5. 5 things you would do if you were a Millionaire?
-build my own charity
-play Bingo everyday
-go island hopping in the Philippines
-take home some guys (paminsan-minsan lang) hehehe
-put up my own internet cafe

Q6. 5 Bad habits?
>smoking more than what i was used to, neglecting my health, singing while eating (my boyfriend always reprimands me when he catches me red-handed), procrastinating, ningas cogon

Q7. 5 things you like to do?
>writing, playing duckpin bowling, playing bingo at the mall( i haven't been in a while), going back home to my hometown

Q8. 5 Favourite Toys?
>trinkets from divisoria (once, i bought a miniature bowling set and it was fun, my cellphone, computer, yoyo, the other one is a shocker and it need not be mentioned here, hehehe

Q9. 5 things you would never wear?
I really can't say, I tend to wear anything and experiment on anything that interests me.

Q10.5 things you hate to do?
>borrowing money but sometimes i just can't avoid it, staying at home on my days off because I am penniless, pretending for the sake of humanity, hehehe, going home on fridays without a bottle or two of beer, waiting for a long time (it kills my patience)

GET TO KNOW ME BETTER meme (PART 2) by grace

1. Significant Other’s name? AJ (Did I get it right? I hope.)
2. What is the color of the underwear you are wearing now? -black
3. What are you listening to right now? - the oscillating electric fan in the room
4. What are the last 4 digits number in your cellphone? - 3375
5. What was the last thing you ate? -blue skies cracker
6. If you were a crayon what color would you be? - green
7. How is the weather right now? -it's really hot, i am sweating a lot even if the fan is at its maximum
8. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? - a certain neighbor
9. The first thing you notice about opposite/preferred sex? - this question is really objective, huh, I'd go for the legs and feet
10. Favorite type of food(s) - salty, spicy, vegies, some Korean dishes

I am tagging no one in particular because I might just fall short of whom to tag. Anyone who wants to proceed and spread this interesting meme is very much appreciated.^^

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Nooking by the window

2007-11-03T11:28:00.000-07:00

That is my favorite spot especially on weekends.

Hypnagogic, I pressed my lips gently on AJ's. That was one of the usual mornings we always treasure. He was murmuring something and I thought he was dreaming. It was almost eleven o'clock in the morning. A brand new day, waiting downstairs. We got out of bed, hustled by the loud music on the third floor of the house.

AJ made me a cup of coffee as I was thinking of how to make the most of my day. I was visible at the usual rendezvous of my thoughts-the window in the living room. There was so much noise, as I was thinking of my family back home. Dodging back bitter memories of being unable to support them for a couple of months when my world was focused on the Casino. I felt invigorated with the assurance that I have gotten over my addiction.

Thinking of the watch I just sent to perk up my sister's awaiting adolescence, planning inside my head of dropping by a bookstore to buy some old books, I feel, I need to do something to make better my familiarity with the English Language. I dream avariciously of the betterment of my writing skills.

Earlier this week, my younger brother, Christian, informed me of my special participation in his wedding. Wow, it's the first time someone's gonna ever get married among my siblings. I am sure my parents have been yearning of having their own grandchild. "They deserve it", I thought to myself while savoring the coffee in the mug which AJ habituates himself specializing in the morning.

It was noisy. One thing, I always abhor in one of my morning rests. Neighbors' children riding bikes to and fro infront of the window. Children, talking like birds just outside, infront of the houses tailor-made to fit side by side. Across from where I comfortably ready my eyes of the brand new day are teens rowdily thrilled over some video games. "I got up late, again", I thought. Upstairs are the tattooing of the hammer on some slabs of wood. AJ's mother just called a carpenter to fix her cabinet in her room.

Freshened by the small amount of coffee in the mug, many thougts just came passing by- of my going home this Christmas, of how I miss the rudimentary, peaceful, and quiet mornings in my home back in my hometown. My family haven't been texting. Oh, how I thought with a smirk of paranoia. They only seem to text me when they need something. I didn't mind. I didn't want to ruin the day.

How I wish to wake up with the glistening window panes, those misty looking cacti in the backyards, smacked with the morning dew. The birds chirping freely in the air, echoing in the pine trees, the barking of the dogs, the cool mornings, matched with a cup of coffee and colorful butterflies in the backyard. I yearn for the whining horse in the stable, the quacking ducks, the rustling of the bamboos, the country music appendaged to my dad, the crowing rooster, the quietness and calm of the morning. Oh, how I just miss the agrestic life in the suburb.

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Come and Go

2007-11-02T03:11:00.001-07:00

My calmed mind gives me a slice of disturbance as my fingers press each key on my keyboard. It could have been easy but it wasn't.

Some of our teachers have come and gone. My heart screams silently as I try to ponder on the why's. Was there something I never did that I should have done to have avoided the sudden separation they never expected from the company? Two of our teachers just had to leave, sadly. I was not in control, or was I just careless to let them go?

Earlier this month, Teacher Anna had to go. Knowing her for more than 6 months colored the working relationship we had. All the while, I thought it would be a happy ending but the private talk I had with her to relay the top banana's decision was a paraprosdokian twist.

"Teach, I am sorry to say that your last day is on the 15 of October." I was straightforward, trying to avoid that temporizing might just pain her the more. I know how much she valued and showed passion in her job. I know she did her best, but to my boss her performance might have been mediocre. She had to step out and it wasn't my choice. If only I were the boss.

"She only teaches three students and she seems incapable of impressing more students to enroll," my boss told me before he laid his decision.

Sometimes, it's hard to be solely depending on what the boss has to say. I wanted to hear what the students said. I wanted to know their feedback. Were they satisfied with her or not? I have no idea. My boss is in control, and he indeed is once he turned down my suggestion of conducting Monthly Evaluation for teachers to know where they stand and overcome their shortcomings and weaknesses.

Then just the other day, it was also Teacher Shirley's last dance. It was the least expected my boss could resort to since she had been working her ass painstakingly to process our bills, teachers' application, payroll, permits, and whatnots. She also teaches students and assists teachers other than those mentioned salient tasks.

My impassive character was absent, the susurration of my emotions kept bugging me seeing those two teachers for the last time. I hope their talents and skills find new homes which will welcome them dearly and nurture the gifts each of them uniquely has.

As for me, I still seem recondite, quiet in the puppetry. I need time to rediscover my self, my purpose, my role, their expectations. Often, I and my boss don't see eye to eye about so many things. This company needs general cleaning and major renovation. This is me but I can't wait sleeping on it.

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Holiday Cheer Through Out The Year!

2007-11-02T00:32:00.000-07:00

This is a sponsored post.

I have started talking about Christmas in my previous post and I think it's too early to be talking about my Christmas wishlist for my family. Anyway, before worrying about stretching my budget for the season of love and gift-giving, let me for the meantime share with you the items in the list. It pays to see something to visualize even before the occasion to keep you focused on their realization. Thank God CouponChief is here to help.

For my older brother, I hope to give him a pair of shoes. There are lots of choices though at shoes-accessories. For my younger brother who has planned to get hitched early next year, I want to give a digital camera so he can take pictures of his wedding which I may not be able to see. I am thinking If I also have to give him a suit. For my two other brothers, I can share with them a computer and a force jacket each. The weather in my hometown really gets cold especially in the months of December and January. For my sister and her favorite pet "Bantay", a variety of beautiful dog costumes will do.

And finally, how can I forget my mom and dad? I wish I could give them some pairs of classic utility pants and jessica london's jacket and blazers.

Well, that means I have to doubly work hard before I run out of the deadline.

promo codes

My Seven's

2007-11-01T09:12:00.001-07:00

I got tagged by Chuckie Dreyfus. The mechanics of the meme: Name seven things about me that are related to the number 7. I wish it were 6. (LOL) Would have been easier.

Here are the seven things about lordmanilastone that are related to number 7.

1. I usually have dinner at 7:00 p.m. That is my only available slot in the evening, before and after that, I teach a lot of students.

2. Duckpin (7 letters) Bowling (7 letters)=This is the hobby I am crazy about these days but I just don't have much the time to really enjoy it regularly.

3. I always have a hard time hitting pin no.7 when it's the only pin left for a spare.

4. When I was seven years old, I hated going to school and would be in tantrums without my dad handing me a one-peso coin for my baon (pocket money). Hehehe.

5. My first name is composed of seven letters. (lordmanilastone=take out seven letters and that's my first name, the rest is my family name) Sorry for making it a puzzle game for you guys.(LOL)

6. 2 + 2 + 3=7 The total number of the PR my blogs got. (LOL) Sorry, this number is giving me a hard time now, really!

7. Here are the lucky seven picks whom I'm afraid would have a hard time as much as I did putting two and two together of the list, hehehe.

Morinn , Lotusflower , Serena , Malditang Pinay , Nick , Shannon , and Donalyza .

You saved the day, guys!

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Health and Fitness

2007-10-31T10:44:00.001-07:00

It was the first time in months I had to commute back home alone last Friday night. I wasn't used to such but I had to heed to AJ's request. (He doesn't want to wait on me playing duckpin bowling until the wee hours of the next day (LOL)). I felt some thrilling liberty traversing the dark path towards home but the feeling of being abandoned was overpowering. With the heavy back pack weighing on my back and the trepidation lurking in my nervoused guts, I walked the long stretch of the road from my office to the highway for my bus way home. It was almost midnight.

The thoughts of AJ were my company. He would often carry my favorite green backpack containing my used clothings and some tchotchkes. Whenever we are headed for the junction, I'd often feel a recurrence of my youth looking at him while trailing behind. He is several inches taller than I am and he just walks really fast that I am often left panting a few meters away.

Damn it! I almost missed that. When I arrived at the junction where the bus stop is, I felt some pressure on my bag. My dubiety reminded me to turn my head and double check my bag. Just heard the place is infamous for snatchers and pickpockets. I recalled, I just put my old cellphone and the key to the office in my bag's side pocket. My head freaked out with the idea of losing an old phone geminated with sentimental value and worried about listening to rumors bannering a ransacked office when I'm back at work.

I was right, somebody behind me in the middle of the crowd tried to steal my dirty underwear. (LOL) No, I mean my cellphone(3210). The side pocket of the bag was fully opened but I was quick enough to prevent the worst case scenario. I just gave that lady in her 30's a cursing look, mental telepathizing I would call the police to squeal her arbeit in the central business district. And she had the nerve to steal the undies I bought at Divisoria? (LOL)(No, I mean my cellphone again.)

The long trip was not tedious rather it was giving me a renewed vigor. I would usually feel sleepy on the bus but at that particular moment, I was so alive. It was strange that there wasn't heavy traffic.

I had a mindset and plan that would surely anger my boyfriend once I hug him in bed later.

I dropped by the duckpin place expecting to see Fred. I surely missed sharing a few bottles of beer with him and a little memorable and sensible chit-chat, plus the benefit of sweating out playing a few rounds of bowling. To my dismay, he had left earlier when I arrived. The presence of Mommy Ruth though made me feel a little bit comfortable. She was telling me about her trip in Palawan and how she spent a memorable time with her relatives in the islands.

She hugged me at my entrance to the 9th lane. I always felt she was a mom. She is too caring and sweet.

"What do you want to drink, Miss Universe?" she enthusiastically asked. She was very eager to treat me for a drink.

"Really? are you treating me tonight?" I asked for assurance. She nodded. "One San Mig Light Mommy Ruth and that's all." I said, shyly.

She was playing with the other members of the club but she took a replacement and decided that we play, just the two of us. We were so happy with our scores. We hit more than a hundred pins in each of our three games. I won leading a few wooden lame ducks. It was such a nice game and it was indeed an exercise as we tried to finish the game so expeditiously.

While drinking my beer and she, her bottled mineral water, she noticed my wounds. I told her what had transpired in me in the past weeks.

"My son, you should see a doctor and have those wounds checked." she imparted. "How could you spend a lot on your drinking and smoking and be a miserly on your health and medications?" she sermoned this time. I looked at her and she read my eyes.

It was past 2:00 a.m when I decided to leave. I hope to see Fred the next time.

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My Three's

2007-10-30T02:07:00.000-07:00

Got tagged by Mommy Kat and I want to share with you some information about me based on the questions below:

THREE NAMES THAT FRIENDS CALL YOU:
night
kaps
ganda

MOST IMPORTANT DATES IN YOUR LIFE:
December 25
September 4
July 16

3THREE THINGS YOU'VE DONE IN THE LAST 33 MINUTES:
smoked a cigar
caffeinated
posted for My Dreamzzz World

THREE WAYS TO BE HAPPY:
healthy lifestyle
peace of mind
good income

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
Galbitang
Pizza
Dinuguan

THREE PERSONS YOU MISS THE MOST:
My bf in highschool (bestfriend, LOL)
My only sister
My Filipino Teacher in highschool

THREE GIFTS YOU WOULD LIKE TO RECEIVE:
peace of mind
good health
happiness

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
writing
blogging
duckpin bowling

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO FOR HOLIDAY:
Boracay
Panglao Beach
Disneyland

THREE MALLS YOU USUALLY GO TO:
SM Malls
Starmall
Divisoria Mall

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE FASTFOOD RESTAURANT:
Chowking
Jollibee
Don Henrico's

THREE FAVE SPORTS:
Duckpin bowling
Tennis
Table Tennis

THREE FAVORITE DRINKS:
Red Horse
SMB
Generoso

THREE PERFUMES/COLOGNES:
eau de toilette
eau de toilette
eau de toilette ( I am not into using perfume so I am not familiar with their names.(LOL)

THREE FAVORITE COLORS:
Yellow
Green
Red

THREE EVENTS YOU'RE LOOKING FORWARD TO:
All Saints' Day
Christmas
New Year

LAST THREE PEOPLE IN YOUR INBOX
Serena
Reyna Elena
kathycot

THREE THINGS YOU'LL BE DOING AFTER THIS SURVEY
post
smoke
worry

And now, I would like to pass this on to three of the wonderful bloggers I have known. cyberpunk , crazed_heck , and Chuva Chienes

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Pagerank: It's a 2-2-3

2007-10-29T02:36:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, let me take this chance to thank Blogcatalog, Blogrecords and all the other blogging directories out there for the awesome achievement I got through my sites. (At least for a newbie like me) Special mention goes to my fellow bloggers, virtual friends, visitors of the sites, staunch readers, and all whom I might neglect to recall. Blogging hasn't been this rewarding without you guys.

Characters In My Life has a PR of 2, this site which I spend most of time on has a PR of 2, and My Dreamzzz World has a PR of 3. Finally after the long wait, I can finally say my blogging effort has come to fruition. This is such a big achievement on my part who was once so naïve of what blogging is all about. Thanks to Google which made it easy for me to discover the plethora of opportunities on the net.

I can’t express how much grateful and happy I am though I know PR 2 and PR 3 aren't really that much. I have considered my sites like my own children that I sometimes feel disheartened knowing I haven’t fed them with the latest posts. No matter how busy I am working as an Online Teacher, I will try my best to keep them updated as religiously as possible.

A million thanks everyone. !!!

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Pecuniary Talk

2007-10-28T05:57:00.000-07:00

Earlier, last week, Jenny, one of the latest additions to our roster of teachers asked me if I could lend her some cash- enough to suffice up her family needs more than a week before the company's pay out. I have known her for barely a month but obviously that incident where she discreetly approached me at my station was not something I had to take against her. I used to be a money-borrower myself and in all honesty, I still do until now.

"Teach, I am wondering if you have some spare..." she said matched with the hesitant and the hopeful expression in her face. I knew what she meant and I was momentarily speechless not confident enough to say 'yes.'

She went in to continue that she and her family just moved in to a new apartment and they have to start filling up their small room with their own domestic properties like stove, pots, dishes, as well as diapers for her baby and their daily provisions. She is just one of the moms out there I certainly commend for the courageous move to settle for a nuclear family in the city in exchange of the extended family she belonged in, back in her hometown in the country.

I never promised a favorable response of her untimely need since I myself had nothing to spare. I just told her I'd ask AJ if he has some to lend her.

Jenny is definitely one of the best teachers we want to work with in the company. Knowing she is trying to make things fall through right for her and her family- (she's got a toddler and a homemaker hubby) instantly left a good impression on me. I really wanted to help if I could.

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Ruminating My Religiousity

2007-10-26T05:35:00.001-07:00

It was a quarter before noon when I decided to take my meal at Ate Liza's. I took one of the small round tables just beside it's entrance. Everybody in the kitchen seemed so preoccupied that my presence was apparently conspicuous. I have been skipping breakfast these days so my esurience pushed me to butt in with the customers scrambling for food over the counter. I told Ate Liza, I wanted some mung green soup for one of my seemingly habitual brunch sessions. I was trying to avoid a deja vu of what occurred the other day.

The other day, I got in the cafeteria just a few minutes past twelve and I felt sorry all the pots and containers were empty. There was nothing left to eat for a late comer like me. I was compelled to eat outside the building.

While waiting for my food to be served, I couldn't avoid wandering my eyes around. My wait was taking more than usual as expected. A fair looking lad measly enjoying his meal caught my eye. From his looks, I realized that he works at the printing press located just one notch up from the third floor of the building where our office is located. He looked dingy in his tattered pair of shorts and his shabby white shirt. In spite of that, he radiated a certain glow of a fine, young-looking, man.

He was unmindful I was watching him and I for the time being forgot I had to hasten my meal because I had to teach after thirty minutes.

After satisfying himself with one order of rice, a tiny bowl of complimentary soup, and half an order of sauteed cabbage, he bowed his head, clipped his hands, and started whispering a prayer. I was in awe. I was hurt to be confronted of my negligence of my faith. Memories of my Christianity in my yester years started flashing back in my head. I was such a fanatic then attending Bible studies, going to church regularly, praying the rosary, etc.

I watched him 'til he finished his communion with God. A twinge in my heart told me I haven't been thankful these days- a time when the quality of my life is moving forward. I am well recuperating from my disease, pleased with the buoyancy of my job, able to support my family despite the hard times, and free from major adversaries in life.

How could I be so ironic?

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Reviewing my Patience

2007-10-25T02:36:00.000-07:00

Patience is virtue. I know it's trite but I think I forgot to live by it in my class yesterday.

Here is what happened. I see the student online, click on his name in the main messenger window, and a conversation window appears. I click on the video icon, wait for a few seconds, (sometimes a few minutes depending on the internet speed) the connection loads, my student and I get connected. It's 8:30 pm and the class starts.

ME: Hi, Carlo, good evening! ( I project a wide smile to show how happy I am to see my student.)
CARLO: Yes...(His voice was very soft and was without vim.)
ME: Carlo, if your teacher says, "Good evening!" You should say,"Good evening, too!" Ok, one more time, Good evening Carlo!
CARLO: Good evening too.!
ME: Ok, very good, Carlo! Next question, Carlo, how are you doing today?
CARLO: I went to school today.
ME: What? No, I am asking you about how you feel today! (a bit intense but not yet shouting) How are you doing today?
CARLO: Today is Tuesday. (Seems like the student has left his zeal somewhere else as I can't sense it.)
ME: Carlo, I didn't ask you what day it is today. My question is, "How are you doing today?" Ottoke chininyehaeseyo? (I was compelled to speak in Korean for the seemingly alienated student.)How are you? (I was becoming redundant and starting to raise my voice.) Are you ok, are you fine, or what?
CARLO: I'm fine.
ME: Ok, very good. One more time, How are you doing today?
CARLO: I'm fine.
ME: Alright, very good Carlo. How about your mom, how is she doing today? ( a little bit calmed down this time)
CARLO: She is watching TV. (he really sounds lethargic and sluggish that he can hardly utter the words clearly)
ME: No! (annoyed again and starting to lose it) Carlo, were you listening to me? My question is, HOW is your mom doing today? I didn't say, WHAT is your mom doing today?
(I had to type the questions in the messenger window and emphasize the difference between HOW and WHAT. There is a long dead air. The student is quiet, so I have to repeat the question and try to make it easier for him. )
ME: Carlo, HOW is your mom doing? Is she fine, is she ok, is she feeling bad, what?
CARLO: Is she fine. (minus the right intonation this time)
(It's harder to teach online than teaching the student in the actual setting.)
ME: Ok, say it again, She is fine, or My mom is fine. (I stressed)(The student repeats for God's sake.) Alright, if I ask you the question, How is your mom doing, you can say she is fine. Can you say that again? (I ask the same question again for familiarity.) How is your mom doing?
CARLO: She is fine.
ME: And now, What is she doing? The question is what and not how. What is your mom doing?
CARLO: She is fine.

Once, my boss asked me about the progress of Carlo (not his real name).

"How about Carlo?," he asked. "His mother told me he still doesn't know how to read and he is not showing any improvement."

"Sir, his case is very isolated, I have been teaching him for almost a year and it's really hard to see any improvement in him. I have been doing my best to help him. I have other students younger than him who don't know how to read when they start their classes with me, but after three months or so they already know how to read and respond to the basic questions in English" I explained.

"So, you think there is something wrong with the student's mental state?" he asked again.

"I think so sir." I replied and my boss ended the phone call.

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Messy Garage

2007-10-23T21:47:00.000-07:00

Cleaning my own room often bores the insouciant me. I seem to care less when it comes to the maintenance of peace and order in my small world.

After lunch, I had to bustle to my station. I barely had five minutes to log in and start my class in the middle of the day, only to find out later that my student would log in to tell me she was cancelling the class. She had to attend a special meeting in the academy where her daughter is enrolled.

Whew, I was a bit relaxed from the clear-cut panting which barged in the short talk I had with my student. I left my station and headed for my room just at the back. I decided to lean on my cushion though I was trying to avoid dozing off because I was scared that would worsen my sleeplessness later in the evening.

As, I turned on the fan across from the desk at the foot of my mattress. The cluttered desk caught my attention. I saw the old receipt I got from the bank where I deposited some amount of money a few months ago under my younger brother's account. The month on the receipt was May. That was the time I was not frequenting the Casino yet.

Then, all of a sudden, I had memories of my younger brother. The fourth son in the family. We haven't seen each other in a while. He is a driver who services Koreans who take short ESL courses in Baguio to and fro the airport in Manila. And just as I thought, it would be a full moment of relaxation for me, I ended up cleaning the mess. There were piles of receipts, a nail clipper, two broken alarm clocks, a busted lamp shade, a comb, a mirror, candy wrappers, and forget about the rest. (LOL)

I thought for a moment what has been keeping my brother busy these days. Yeah, perhaps there aren't a lot of Koreans these days to be picked up at the airport since the influx of these kimchi lovers in the country is seasonal. Maybe, he was at home cleaning up the messy garage where he stations our cousin's car. How I wish we had our own car to be parked in that property of ours. The garage was constructed and is being rented by my cousin. The last time I went home in February, the garage was a total mess. There were dilapidated sofa's piled up in one corner, spare tires everywhere, and there were even two small kennels. If you add the dogs and pups which enjoy their sanctuaries in the garage, that would be too much of a headache.

If only I had my own car, I would definitely do an extreme makeover of that filthy garage, like putting in garage cabinets

For now...I have to dream on.

THIS IS A SPONSORED POST

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Online and Offline

2007-10-23T10:26:00.000-07:00

You know, I just hate this particular student of mine. When I readied myself for our class at 5:20 p.m, I just saw him online. A minute just as I was about to give him a phone call, he suddenly appeared offline.

"Look at this student, " I told my fellow Teacher Harry. "He is offline again and I don't know if he is really interested in my class or not," I complained annoyingly.

"Sir, I have the same kind of student, sir." The ever-polite Teacher Harry replied. "I see him online but goes offline when it's time for the class," he added.

Last Friday, I was totally pissed off with the same student as he intentionally logged out of Windows Live Messenger in the middle of our class. I was just informed by his mentor in Korea after a while that he was very busy to actually finish the class.

If that were so, the student should have at least informed me himself before even kicking off his lazy butt of the internet. I was left in circles as I didn't know what actually happened. I even thought the problem was on my end.

What I demand from my students especially from their parents is to have me informed in advance of their intentions to skip the class. I don't want to be wasting my time just sitting in front of the monitor wondering whether my student would be online or not. There are many things to be prioritized and if I get informed earlier, at least I can do other things like take a walk, or read some gossip news at the cafeteria. (LOL) But to be honest, I sometimes feel delighted when my students decide not to attend the class. I can have plenty of leeway to think about my next posts.(LOL)

Just like next week, I am fervently anticipating the three-day holiday we have in the Philippines. As far as I know, the President has already declared October 29, November 1, and 2 as non-working holidays. (Please rectify me folks if I am wrong. Thanks.) My mind is tickled with so many thoughts about my plans for the week to come. But more of that will be for the next postings. For now...

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Make your hotel reservations

2007-10-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

Christmas is more than two months from now but the season has definitely started leaving a trace of anxieties and excitement to people who believe that Jesus Christ indeed saved the mankind many, many, centuries ago.

As the celebration draws nearer, some people start planning for their Christmas Holidays. It must be an awesome way to celebrate the season without straining yourself with the expensive hotel reservations we have around. At Hotel Reservations though, it is a different story as it gives you the chance to travel to the remarkable spots we have around the globe without leaving your pockets empty.

At Hotel Reservations, they have the best hotels in the most coveted vacation spots like Australia, Italy, Asia, Germany, Greece, Belgium, France, England, Portugal, etc. Of course the vacation package wouldn't be complete without the presence of the beautiful hotels which magnify the significance of the holiday through the warmest and friendliest accommodations they have. The luxurious hotels including beach hotels do not only offer hot deals, but family fun, gambling, golf and spa. Just as with Hotel Reservations you can save up to 70% and can book online as their customer service is open 24/7. The toll free number to call is 1-800-447-4136 for USA and Canada, or if you are in Europe you can call 00-800-1276-3549. The worldwide phone number is (1) 817-333-5105.

I tried surfing other sites which offer hotel reservations and I can say that Hotel Reservations definitely has one of the best price offers. Say you want to go to Atlanta City, they have a room and breakfast package from $95.95.

There are so many other destinations and interests that lets you experience personal service and a cozy atmosphere when you stay at one of their top bed & breakfast picks. From quaint country inns to guest houses in historic cities, you'll discover the meaning of rest and relaxation at each of these lovely properties.

For sure, once I am able to afford my own vacation package, I surely know where to go.

THIS IS A SPONSORED POST

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Christmas and Nostalgia

2007-10-22T05:49:00.000-07:00

AJ and I on Mondays usually leave for work at around 11:00 a.m and we arrive at the work place more than an hour later. Earlier this morning he told me he wouldn't go to work with me because he had to finish some stamps ordered from him the night before. (By the way AJ is good at making stamps.) Before I left though, his father came telling him the work was done.

We both took a shower (one after the other, LOL) and expeditiously set off for the highway bus. He was behind me and before, I got on the bus, I heard AJ say, "Take the seat on the left side of the bus." It was an air-conditioned bus and he thought the left side of a bus would always be cooler than the other.

Anyway, I sat on the right side and he gave me a petty nudge. Annoyed, he said, "Didn't I tell you to take the left side?" I looked at him and I raised my hand and felt the air coming out of the fan blade and told him, "It's cool here."

The short journey to work was a defeaning silence between him and me. I was dozing off on the bus and he was listening to some music on his phone. He gave me another nudge just before we arrived at the train station. He was still quiet and so was I though he was too quick to get us train tickets.

At work, I immediately turned on my pc and checked my e-mail. The dial-up connection at home last night was too slow that I decided to just play red-alert 2 (LOL). Somebody told me that it is really an old game (and so am I) to be so naive how to go about it. Since I started playing that game, I have never won any campaign. Not until I came across one of jerad's post about tesla coils and stuff . I figured the reason my warriors coming out of the barracks and the expensive war structures always get electrocuted by lightning. If my discovery is right, then next time, I should immediately disable my prism towers when a lightning storm is created as they could be the culprit why I always end up losing or sometimes aborting the game.(LOL)

Anyway, as I checked my e-mail, some good news greeted me with surprise and broke the silence between AJ and me. My post entitled, I signed up for PPP got approved. I never thought it was that easy.

I was so carried away that I swallowed my pride and called AJ to see the e-mail. We were both happy. Later, I received a text message from my sister telling me to buy her some stuffed toys for Christmas. I grinned, typed in yes, added I'd be home for Christmas, and as the message was sending, a moment of nostalgia embraced me. I looked at AJ and said, "We are going home for Christmas."

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Uncertainty

2007-10-20T09:44:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, when I was a high school student, I had a dream. I was very vocally zealous to share with my friends, classmates, and to all the people I was comfortable with my bright expectations for the future. I dreamt of having my own family.

Whenever asked about my future plans, I recall myself say, "I'd get married at the age of 30 just in time after I have afforded a car, a home, sacks of diapers, and other necessary provisions for my family. I had learned then that the ideal number of kids for parents to raise was "four" and I had wanted to have "three".

Once upon a time, I was a mirror of vigour who showed passion in studying, treading the propitious journey towards the pot of gold- the realization of my dream.

But then, once upon a time, the azure sky slowly faded away as the clouds humiliated its ostentatious display of hope and the thought that it was free to to dream after all was drastically ripped off me. I progressed and moved forward looking at the horizon conjoined with the unfolding of my individuality. The bitter reality of my personality made the easily achievable farfetched. The ingrained social prejudice for people with queer sexual orientation seemed to have blurred out the actualization of my most cherished dream. I felt I was doomed for life for something I didn't want to be a part of my existence. I knew I would never get married to a woman who could bring forth my offsprings.

I am gay and whether I like it or not, it's much harder than I thought to actually have a family I can call my own. I want to have my own biological children but something in me is telling that the idea of it alone is hard to stomach. I often think of the feasibility of adopting some children but my paranoia and insecurity wouldn't let me settle for such. I know there must be other options. I am not too old to allow other possibilities in my life.

Earlier today, I was looking at my wounds again. Oh, yeah I forgot to mention that a small one has just popped out but it is manageable so far. The hardened blood seem to be slowly chipping off the wound and is gradually leaving a circular scar on my leg. I just kinda had a hard time making my way to the living room from my room on the second floor because the wound is a little swollen. I was prompted to buy myself some antibiotic capsules though I was doubtful If I had to take ‘some meds’ because I am still worried upto now whether that would be good for my recuperation from hepatitis.

AJ had to leave the house earlier and it was a very unusual day for me finding myself alone in the living room watching his nieces and nephews naively playing before my eyes.

Once AJ’s mother told him, “You have to love these kids and take care of them because they will look after you when you get old.” I thought of its implication and wondered to myself whether his mom guessed he would not settle for his own family in the future. Sometimes AJ tells me of his plans to get married and have his own family. Though it surely makes me sad and uncomfortable, I always tell him to do what is expected of him. I tell him that it is his freedom to do so and that I don’t have the right to tell him not to. If he wants to get married then so be it. I know where I stand in his life and I am totally different from a woman who can provide him with children. I know my limitations and I know that the relationship we have is temporal.

As always, I see AJ so close to his nephews and nieces and even sometimes to the point of pampering them like giving them a treat at commercialized fast food chains, buying them presents everytime he can afford to.

As for me, I don't have my own nieces and nephews yet and when the time comes I have, I am not sure if I can be loved by them as AJ's nieces and nephews love him.

For now, all I can do is to live life as it is. I certainly don't want to live a solitary life in the future. AJ, is not everything to me but he certainly makes me happy and is the alleviation of my fears and worries in life. For how long? I am uncertain.

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I don't think 'him' is selfish

2007-10-16T21:13:00.000-07:00

To give you my beloved readers ease of understanding of the following post. I would like to give a name to my boyfriend this time. Let me /call him AJ.

As I got up this morning, the gloomy appearance of the sky outside my glass window, plastered a thought on my mind. It would have been ok if I exercised. It's been a while and I haven't sweat it out. It was almost ten and the sullen environment aggravated by the absence of the sunlight was inviting me to go to the rooftop of the building and start flexing my muscles.

Got the thought that the wound on my leg which is showing evidence of healing is giving me a pat to start getting back to my old lifestyle. I mean, I used to be athletic but I've been so lackadaisical these days to do the things I used to enjoy to maintain a healthy lifestyle.

While taking the stairs from the 3rd floor to the 8th floor, I couldn't help but keep thinking about the outburst of my anger last night. It got ignited when out of nowhere AJ told me he had a word war with his younger brother because of financial matters.

My initial reaction was so intense. My impulse hinted that he was insulted. Impartialled by the familiarity I have with AJ, I felt vicariously outraged. I wanted to explode like a bomb. If I were at home, I would have defended him to the hilt. How I had wished I transformed myself into a grenade and shattered that pathologically niggard, younger brother of him into pieces of stinking meat. Yeah, right then and there when he was inconsiderably and unflinchingly verbally attacking AJ at home. And he had the nerve to say that to him? Did he even know what he said to his older brother? That was clearly a blatant disrespect for AJ.

AJ’s younger brother was being reminded by their mom to share with the monthly electric consumption. This is commonplace among extended families in the Philippines where more often than not, family ties seem to be pulling the leg of every household member. He would often give his alibis and just as he was trying to concoct another excuse why he couldn’t pinch in for the payment of the electricity consumption for the month, AJ decided to stick his oar in the conversation. Then the surprise came in as he started ranting about how AJ has been unable to fully support his family these days and that he shouldn’t have the right to interfere with the monthly liabilities of the household. AJ of course was aggravated, exchanged some bitter words with him but in the end, he acquiesced in the accusations and false impression of his younger brother.

As we were chatting and he telling me what happened, I ended up blaming him for not even trying to defend himself and let his brother know of all his sacrifices. I was really maddened that seemingly he gave in to the nonsense notion of his younger brother.

I just hate his younger brother for that wilful disregard of AJ. In the first place, he owes not only me but AJ some undisclosed amount of money. Did he ever pay us? No. Everytime we remind him of his debts, he gets pissed off and he doesn't have the thought enough to know what "voluntary" means.

When his baby succumbed to convulsion and kept vomiting just two weeks ago, who dared spent money for the baby’s medications and transportation to the hospital? My boyfriend did and he didn't even ask his ungrateful brother for a payback. Did his younger brother even care to reciprocate for the good deed? Nah, not even a simple "thank you."

His younger brother with his big family (five children) occupy a portion of the house which without AJ’s hardwork and sacrifice abroad would have not been constructed. AJ worked abroad for almost ten years unmindful of his own interest to earn money to be able to build a decent home for his family. They used to live in a shanty in a squatter area and the three-storey house now where his family lives is the product of his sweat, blood, and wasted youthfulness, I suppose. If he only thought of himself at those times, he would have been living a secure and relaxed life now. But at his age, more than 30 years old, he still doesn’t have his earnings. Unlike me who feels guilty of not being able to help send my brother to college, AJ was able to help three of his siblings finish some degrees in college. AJ, had to drop out of his engineering major prior to working abroad. He was deprived of the education which he unselfishly granted his siblings. AJ is such a noble person worthy of emulation. He is an exemplar whom I sometimes draw my inspiration from.

AJ has always been good to everybody in his family and his kindness and generosity extends to his relatives. Whatever he wants to lead his life to, that shouldn't be my business anymore. But why do I feel hurt for him? I feel sad when he is sad. I just have some fear though. Sometimes the kind of compassion I have for him provides a verisimilitude of how I should feel for him.

As for his brother, he always borrows money from other people without paying them back in time. Sometimes he hides under his bed when people whom he borrowed money from start collecting his debts. He is a pathological niggard who prioritizes his luxuries in life like owning two motorcycles and an owner-type jeepney but always eludes from his monthly responsibilities.

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Reassurance

2007-10-08T20:51:00.000-07:00

After coming out of a nightmarish dream where I saw my boyfriend bitten by a dog, I got up at around quarter past 10:00 am today. The sun was up and its rays were sending me tiny pricks through the glass window, perhaps reminding me that it was time to start the day. So I did.

First, I turned off the small electric fan at the foot of my mattress. Then, I checked the wound on my leg, rolled a little tissue paper to wipe it with just in case the pus was still there.

This wound kept me paranoid last night. I had lots of delusions when I informed my boyfriend through chat that it could be leg ulcer. I even asked him to see the grotesque pictures of leg ulcer on the net. I kept bugging him though I know he was having a good time chatting at the comfort of our room back at home. Remember, we just bought a pc and he seems to be having a lot of a good time with our hackneyed dial-up connection.

"You know, I just surfed the net and it turns out that the wound on my leg is leg ulcer." I said. "Go check this out," I added as I typed in the link in the chat window.

"That can't be leg ulcer, maybe, just some evil spirits made fun of you at the baptism because you resisted going home when I asked you to," he argued.

We kept punching in our opposing thoughts and views through messenger about the petty wound on my leg until he suggested that I should see a quack doctor. I surely gave it a thought though dismissed the fact that an evil has been invoked upon me.

We both logged off after that, said our repetitive goodbyes and prodded myself to sleep after spending some time in front of the computer monitor.

Before I plunged into unconsciousness, I had had to recharge my cellphone and that reminded me of Fred's text message earlier that same day.

Deep friendship
doesn't depend
on how many times
friends spend time together
or how happy they are...

it's the time
when you never see them
and yet keep on believing
that the friendship
will stay forever...

I haven't seen Fred in a while.
I have never played duckpin bowling in the past weeks. He has been texting me and he never got a reply. I thought I would lose him. I tried to believe he felt so bad I have taken him for granted.

It was not my intention to involve my friendship with my personal problems but I just can't help. There are times, I seem to care less when I am at the valleys of my life. Sorry is not enough for the friendship I have found in him, but he should know that his thoughts, memories, and presence are resident in my heart.

Sorry is not enough Fred...Sorry is not enough...

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Could this be leg ulcer?

2007-10-08T06:16:00.000-07:00

Another wound, and it's not just a wound but a disgusting one has been keeping me worried for the past two weeks. I don't even know how it started but I'm freaking scared that it could develop into something more serious.

Two weeks ago, I had to attend a baptism in the neighborhood. The reception was so lavish and extravagant that I overindulged in lobster, fried chicken, roast pig, crispy pata, fried pork and beef guts, etc. I was so worried of the cholesterol intake considering I haven't fully recovered from my hepatitis but I just couldn't control myself. After stuffing myself with those delicacies, I went to the extent of pickling myself with more than ten bottles of extra strong beer.

I went home drunk and tipsy. Some good-hearted neighbors took the time to really send me home. I knew what happened right before I entered the door to the house but I was such a discombobulated inebriate that I didn't know how I got to my room.

The next day, my boyfriend had to remind me of my demented behaviour the night before.

"If you had gone home with me earlier and not insisted on staying there longer, you would have not been that drunk." He introduced. He started acting like my dad again.

"Come on, it's late, get out of bed and we have to go to work." He added.

I just got a hangover and he had a hard time pulling me out of bed. I stayed speechless as I was trying to avoid a heated argument with him early in the morning.

Then I went, "Oh by the way, how did I get here? Who changed my clothes?" I asked.

After a while, I just realized how I had interrupted my boyfriend's sleep last night. He told me he had had a hard time undressing me since my body was so uncooperative.

When I got up, I felt some twinge in my left leg. I bent over and saw a small wound on my leg, just below my knee. It looked like a wound which came out of a cigarette burn. It was circular and it was the diameter of a cigarette.

"How did I get this?" I queried. "I have no idea, I don't know what you did right after I left," he replied with a slight poke of his finger on my forehead. (He often does that when he tends to remind me of my wrongdoings and I take no offense to it.)

It has been more than two weeks and the wound still looks fresh. Last Friday, my boyfriend bought a small bottle of betadine so I could start cleansing the wound. Yesterday, we bought two tablets of penicillin, we pulverized one of them and applied on the wound. No matter how sickening the look was, my boyfriend bravely applied them himself. Could this be leg ulcer?

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The Spark Just Died

2007-10-03T04:31:00.000-07:00

Sports, smoking, drinking, gambling, then blogging and "PLOK"! It just died. Does this have something to do with my being obsessive-compulsive type of person? Who knows? I never actually consulted a psychiatrist to really understand more about my personality. I know this kind of a disease in my system exists but never thought it would fall under the category. I just made the conclusion myself that indeed I am an obsessive-compulsive kind of person because of the shifting and cycling interests I have.

It's been a while and I'm sorry for being out of the circulation, I mean for having not posted. I would have given up then but got some encouragement from friends. I was in a hiatus. Now, I am back with fear of being enmeshed into that ningas-cogon mentality again.

Perhaps my eagerness to improve my writing craft If you allow me to call it keeps me pushing to write. Blogging is a good outlet for the downpour of emotions verbally and physically unexpressed. As of writing, I want to explode and ruin the plethora of guilt, pain, frustrations, and failures I always keep to myself.

I want to get over the vigorous impetuousity of the words I have relinquised to hurt my boyfriend. We were chatting last night and he just went offline. It was a sleepless night for me and I guessed the same thing with him.

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Stop Child Molestation! Stop Child Abuse!

2007-09-27T10:03:00.000-07:00

This is the continuation of the post, I was abused as a child.

Knowing the house was my uncle's, I would also find comfort spending the afternoons there after straining my eyes from the TV monitor and its amusing images. Sometimes, I would just snooze when boredom and tiredness start to sink in my young, innocent and unblemished body.

Most of the time, I would be lulled into unconsciousness undauntingly occupying the sofa in the living room alone. Upon waking up, I would see myself crying feeling I was abandoned. Everybody seemed to have gone out and I was left all alone. I thought that was something enough I would have been scared of then. Later in my adulthood, as I was trying to recap the rites of passage in my life did I realize that waking up or forcing myself to sleep with somebody else-a man whom I looked up with the noblest reputation as my childhood memories would bring me, proved more horrible than seeing no one upon consciousness.

He was there at times. Marvin as I would often call him and refer to him as my own uncle, though he was not. He was one of my uncle's friends. There were incidents, he would close the door, pull down my shorts, start caressing my body, play with my dick. As a very young child, (I think I was around five to six years old then), I didn't feel any malice about that. I thought it was a natural thing to do. I could feel some sensation in his stroking mine. He kept fondling me and found pleasure in my little weapon. That incident did not happen once, but twice, and even thrice as long as I remember.

I never thought how that hugely affected my life and my sexuality. Sometimes I can't avoid to surmise that that incident in my life led me to who I am right now-a gay who is a recipient of mockery, ridicule, discrimination, etc.

I need not elaborate. Finding arguments about homosexuality is not the issue here. The real score is about child molestation, child abuse. The aftermath could be varied, the consequences may take a U-turn in the future of a child. The problem takes its toll on the children and what lies ahead of them.

Up to the present, child molestation, pedophilia, rape and the like are unceasingly common place. Some people seem to ignore the reality. Indeed there are a lot of groups who are against child abuse. One organization in the Philippines known as Bantay Bata is an advocate of childrens' rights, its vision and mission is also in congruence with Unicef Philippines fight against any form of child abuse.

Let us all unite with the cause spearheaded by blogcatalog. Stop the abuse. Be involved, stop, look, listen, and speak if you have to. We need your help. Come on, it is never too late. Stop the abuse and spread the words.

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I signed up for PPP!

2007-09-26T01:16:00.000-07:00

This is the second time in a row I am saying, "To be honest." And for the third time today I have to tell you, "To be honest, I have been waiting for an opportunity from PPP (Payperpost) to blog about products some of you readers can be interested in.

I have waited for almost four months, got an e-mail stating my PPP application got declined, had to resubmit it, and finally I received the approval yesterday. I was ecstatic. I think it was so in time that I posted about how I have been yearning of owning a computer. PPP is certainly a blessing in the sky (a blessing in disguise). Now, I think owning two units is a possibility.

When I started blogging, I thought that it wouldn't hurt if I also do some sponsored posts. Besides blogging, I also get the opportunity to make money online. When I joined some blogging communities and directories as a newbie, PPP was a word of mouth among bloggers. I got curious, I read some bloggers get by with the help of PPP. I visited its website and I learned how PPP has been helping thousands of bloggers make money out of this hobby.

PayPerPost delivers online word of mouth marketing, brand building and traffic generation through the world's largest consumer generated advertising community and marketplace.

I have already met some friends who are also signed up for PPP and their wonderful stories of success. I know, I can meet more and learn about them as time goes by. For now, I very optimistic that I can buy the Christmas presents I want for my loved ones especially my family.

blog reviews

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I need a computer

2007-09-25T04:47:00.000-07:00

I may sound entreating but to be honest, I have been dreaming of having my own computer.

That is the brainchild my boyfriend and I have envisioned a few months ago and hopefully a few days from now, we could have a computer we can call our own, finally.

Had it not been due to my addiction to gambling which almost drowned me to death, I would have made the realization of that vision even long before.(LOL)

Last week after he finished his usual routine in the office, (He works as the maintenance personnel in the office.) I called him for lunch. My approach was kinda dramatic as I asked him to spare a few minutes with me by the window near the kitchen-like area in the office before faring.

"I have a problem," I said in a toned down voice. I looked at him with contracted eyes and a little pouted lips.

"What? You always give me problems." He asked.

I was quiet for a few seconds.

"Come on, I'm already hungry. Tell me what the problem is." He drilled on.

Inside me, I was laughing. Sometimes it makes me feel good to fool my boyfriend once in a while. Maybe that's the abusive me in that sense but he is just so kind that he won't take it as a big deal.

"Ok," I said. "We are buying a computer on Saturday! (corny + LOL)Isn't that what we always wanted?" I added.

He smiled at me and put his arms on my shoulders. We fared sumptuously and talked about where to put the computer in their house. It maybe a refurbished computer we are planning to buy but that will surely cure the longing I have of being infront of a computer monitor on weekends.

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Brazo de Mercedes saved the day

2007-09-21T10:02:00.000-07:00

"When is your birthday?" I asked Kevin, my student.

"My birthday is February 28. " He replied.

"Teacher, how about you? When is your birthday?" I was dumbfounded. I didn't know if I had to confess that day was my birthday. I stuttered.

We were doing the question and answer marathon in the ESL book we were studying. As a teacher I realized that sharing your answer with your students makes the conversation more spontaneous. Too many times, I observe teachers giving so much hard time to their students by simply asking them questions, hear them talk, often times force them to. They tend to monopolize the asking of the questions and leave the burden of thinking how to construct good and grammatically correct sentences to their students. Some students find this unfair but some teachers seem to be insensitive.

I realized that some students who are really hard up with the subject somehow need a pattern or a guide to begin with. So I came up with what I call as the question and marathon portion of our lessons. Everytime we come across discussion questions, I make sure that I also share my answers with my students and vice-versa. Koreans would call it "sem-sem" -quid pro quo. It's like you do it, then I do it. (It sounds childish, doesn't it?) But that's one part of teaching ESL I might as well impart.

"What a coincidence?" I thought to myself. If I knew I would be forced to let others know of my birthday, I would have chosen another topic for that day. However, we really had to stick to the class program and schedule.

"Well," I felt some tears roll down my eyes and I was starting to get dramatic. Good thing my student's cam was disabled and he couldn't see me.

"Actually Kevin, today is my birthday." I said awkwardly.

"Happy Birthday Teacher." He blurted out.

I just told him how I am not used to celebrating my birthday, that I had to prioritize work and it so happened I was in financial crisis so there was no celebration.

After my class, just before leaving my station, Teacher Harry, another fellow teacher of mine came to my station. He handed me a small notebook.

"Happy Birthday, sir!" he said. I was red in the face that I remember telling him once about my birthday but I kept quiet when it arrived.

"You know exactly what I need, the only small notebook where I keep records of my tens of accounts with blogging directories and other online services looks worn out and only has a few pages left." I thought with a grin.

Teacher Harry bought my alibi. I think my persuasive skill worked.

After smoking a stick of cigarette, I went back to my station and began with my next class. While busily discussing some lesson with my student, I heard the main door swung open and was shut in milliseconds. Had I not been quick and caught a glimpse of my boyfriend, I would have thought some robbers broke into the office and ransacked my boss' golf clubs and a couple of pairs of branded shoes left beside my room. It pays that I always keep the door to my station open so I know who comes in and goes out of the workplace.(LOL)

All the teachers were already at their stations that time and I wasn't expecting anybody to drop by and care to give me something for my birthday or what. Remember? I kept it as secret as possible.

My boyfriend immediately went to my bedroom at the back of my station. It was unusual for him to come on Thursdays. He might have forgotten his M-W-F schedule, I supposed.

Right after my class, he came to my station and even before I could say a word, he handed me a lunchbox made of polystyrene (styrofoam) and a can of Pepsi.

"What's this?" I inquired.

"That is yours," he said with a smile. He closed the door at my station, gave me hug and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Hon.?"

"What?" I was really surprised. I opened the pack and I saw a big chunk of cake. I never knew it was Brazo de Mercedes until he told me. It's really embarrassing but that was the first time my palate ever collided with such a taste of cake. I really don't have a sweet tooth but that cake definitely changed my perception of cakes.

I figured that he bought a whole piece of cake, sliced them in several chunks, put them individually in those polystyrene containers and KAPOW! All ready to be served. I had the privilige to distribute them to all the teachers around. A can of Pepsi for each of them was a bonus and it perfectly matched the presentation of the delicacy. It was kinda humiliating that most of them never knew of my birthday and here came my boyfriend to ruin the plan. But to be honest, that was one of the happiest moments in my life.

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Alas, My Birthday Is Over

2007-09-18T07:19:00.000-07:00

A week before my birthday, my boyfriend asked me how to go about it.

"What are you gonna prepare for your birthday?" he asked.

I looked at him with some worries in my eyes, heaved a sigh as I moved my eyes to the ceiling, looked at him again and wondered, "Do you have money?" I was expecting a favorable response. Deep inside me, I knew he had not.

"I have some but just good enough for our transportation and our food allowance." he replied.

Hearing his response doubled my worries as I tried to grab the pack of cigarette laid on the desk behind us. (These days, he feels obliged to buy me a pack of cigarette every now and then instead of me buying them stick per stick as that would cost more.)

This situation reminds me of Murphy's Law again. I don't know but I always see myself in trouble halfway just before payday. Why am I always penniless when I feel the need to spend on something? Just like why can't I have the time to visit my family back in my hometown when I have the money and vice-versa?

There was a moment of silence until I took out one cancer stick and lit it. My first puff broke the silence.

"See? You can't even control your smoking, and you always worry about money!" he said with some superior tone in his voice.

I don't smoke that much but to be honest I have noticed a sudden increase in the amount of cigarettes I burn daily. I am a silent worrier and I know what he meant.

"Okay," I told him. "No birthday for me, I am used to this. Let's just keep quiet and let's keep it secret if possible." I said as if whispering.

"But I remember you telling one of your teachers you would share some cola and pizza?" he interrupted.

"That's easy, a pizza treat can wait. I can buy some in the next few days, when payday arrives. They'll surely understand." I said.

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Like attracts like

2007-09-17T09:42:00.000-07:00

This is kinda long but I hope you learn something from it as much as I did. I was posting a comment on Deb's post about 'bragging one's income' last week when I came upon this post of her about the Law of Attraction. I don't know much about this Law but I sure learned something from it. Something enough to explain why there are people I seem to easily feel comfortable with and the other way around.

It says that "like attracts like". Hmmm, I and my boyfriend have been together for more than three years. We fight as most people in relationships do but we seem to overcome these problems. He always seems to nag me about my fashion style (he says I look like a geek or most of the time outmoded but I just ignore him). As a highlander coping with the lifestyle here in Manila, I just tell him I can't do anything about it because it is my style. And for as long as I am comfortable it shouldn't be a thing to really bother with. At times, he would project matriarchal image and starts reminding me to always keep our room out of mess and that I often forget to put my used clothing in the laundry bin at the terrace.

Long story short, we are ok so far and our relationship continues to grow stronger. As the "Law of Attraction" states, 'like attracts like'. People who like each other hang out together. I think about my friends, neighbors, fellow workers and I realize that attraction and harmony must be present in order for combination to occur according to the film.

Just a thought, sometimes we have to find time to rediscover ourselves and perhaps think of our relationships.

Oh by the way, you can check out this site for good reads and good list of recommended sites. Satisfy your curiosity with secrets revealed, make your day with humorous posts, get some tips about public speaking and check other interesting posts , and more.

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I'd rather see a public doctor

2007-09-12T06:28:00.001-07:00

This is the continuation of the post Do you trust private doctors?

After a few weeks, we made several attempts to go to some reputable public hospitals in the city but as usual, I was asked to go back and have an appointment with the doctor. No check up was conducted until I had to stop medication more or less after two months. Yes, I decided to stop medication even though without any doctor's advice. Worrying about the skyrocketing prices of medicine was just a burden. I have never gotten a checkup eversince.

I somehow felt relieved that the yellowness on my skin just disappeared. I still had to look at my eyes each morning in the mirror. As time went by, the yellow thing on my sclera vanished. The doubts are still in me. Do I have A or B? Might as well live it to that. I have hepatitis and I am getting over.

On one sunny weekend, just before my boyfriend and I headed for the Casino, I told him that we'd have to drop by a public hospital.

"I think we'd go to Casino first." I joked.

"There you go again, you always think gambling is more important than anything," he answered.

We were laughing on our way to the hospital while telling him how disappointed I was that he referred me to a private doctor earlier. Even at the onset of my disease, I already had the predisposition to see a public doctor. The cost of the checkup would be cheaper and I just trust them more than private ones.

Public doctors are supposed to look after the health conditions of the majority and I surmised that they undergo rigorous screening processes just to get through and be recognized as public servants. I just feared private doctors. Based on my college experience, I learned that taking up a medical course was like hell. This could be my personal opinion but I have seen a lot of medical students solely depend on leakages during exams because of the difficulty. A lot are tempted if not forced to join cheaters to get even with the soaring tuition fees they invest in the universities. That gave me the idea that a lot of them don't exactly know what they study about. Thoughts related to medical malpractice or maltreatment crossed my mind. I hated the idea.

Knowing at the same time that most private hospitals just hire doctors perhaps based on their diplomas intensified my doubts about private doctors' capabilities. I made a generalization that private doctors easily find jobs since private hospitals in their sole purpose of generating money need not have to impose strict screening processes to minimize their expenditures. Who knows if the doctors they hire other than their diplomas really possess the expertise?

Well, I hope you don't come across a doctor who doesn't know how to interpret lab results and shies away from your simple questions of how to avoid hepatitis or if such virus indeed could be acquired through saliva.

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Do you trust private doctors?

2007-09-10T11:26:00.000-07:00

I could feel summer was on its way as the temperature in Manila rose drastically. From the usual 27-31 degrees celsius, it ballooned to a constant 31 and above. It was really hot and humid. I avoided the formality of wearing long pants while teaching. Since my students just see the upper part of my body, I found a way to give myself more ventilation by wearing a pair of shorts at the office. Until now, I really feel at home since this is also where I spend most of my nights. This office is now seemingly providing me that homey feeling.

We had to spend more on our electric bill than ever and I just realized how stingy my boss is at times. "Please lessen your use of the airconditioner because that accumulates much of our electric bill," he once reminded us." We maybe bad employees that we blatantly ignored him the fact that he was not here in Manila. He surely doesn't know how hard it is to teach while uncomfortably profusing at the teaching station.

Just as I was preparing for lunch waiting for the water to boil for my oatmeal regimen in one of the areas in the office, I received a text message from Mommy Ruth. "Meet me here my son, I am at a nearby mall," the message said. I had to hurry to the mall right away since I would have a class after forty minutes. Although in a hurry, I had to see to it to maintain a certain pace because my left tummy hurt everytime I would have to speed up.

I was so emotional when she greeted me with a hug and and a semi-kiss on the cheek. Mommy Ruth, she just treats me as her son. We are not relatives. I met her at the duckpin club I joined here in Manila. She once told me she likes me. Perhaps, I thought because I am gay and she can easily relate with me. She is a widow, deprived of any children. She must find vicariousness in the idea of treating me as hers. There she was, handing me a gallon of alkaline ion water.

"Never drink any water from any source, you have to stick to that. Just send me a message when it empties so I can send you another gallon..." I was so touched. Later, she took me to the nearest mall. She bought some tea bags for me, some unrefined sugar, biscuits, oatmeal. We even had to roam the market to look for molasses. How eager she wanted me to recover.

She kept asking me about my check up. I told her I had been to the clinic already and just had to go back for the lab findings but she insisted I get another one to be sure. I told her, I would have to go back since I needed the result of the clinic's laboratory findings.

When I went back to the private clinic, the doctor whom I had an appointment with was on a leave. I was disappointed to find out I would be handed over to another doctor. She seemed so naive that she could not explain to me all my querries. She wasn't sure if I had A or B based on the lab findings. She naively told me that "it could be A or B, or a combination of both. I was damned confuse and so was she I guess. She started explaining biliburin and stuff. I intercepted her and asked how I could possibly prevent the unwanted spread of the disease. I was so worried that I live in a house with several children and toddlers. She didn't seem confident of what she was telling me. She advised me to comeback for another consultation. My God! consultation alone would cost an arm and a leg. I just said thanks anyway and left the clinic for good. To be continued...

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Jaundice Days

2007-09-07T05:49:00.000-07:00

The next weekend came. I had religiously been taking the medicines my boss sent me. Some had to be altered though as they were not available in Korea, nonetheless they pretty much looked very similar to the ones prescribed by my doctor.

"I will send you medicines, those are really effective ones. Those are the best medicines for hepatitis according to my physician friend," I remembered my boss telling me once as we had a short talk on Windows Live Messenger a week ago just before my day off. I was overwhelmingly emotional when he had to tell me to sleep in between my broken schedule. Some of my friends had asked me how I felt. They assumed I would easily exhaust myself and feel tired because of the disease. I kept myself strong and luckily I managed to keep up with all my classes as usual.

"Do you see my eyes yellow?" That expression had been very famous for the first few weeks among my students. I was very conscious of my jaundice. Looking at myself each time I woke up in the morning had been a habit. I would examine my eyes and see if they would ever go as white again as before.

My students kept my hopes and I was auspicious, "Avoid looking at yourself in the mirror and examining your eyes everyday,"said Rachelle. "You just have to be patient and your eyes will get back to normal," she added. "You have to eat a lot of grilled fish and foods rich in protein," said another student.

I was positive of the virus and positive still that everything would fall into its place. While patiently waiting for any changes and development, I had to face the fact that my lifestyle would have to adapt to my health condition. Until then, I had to avoid my usual hangouts. I missed playing duckpin bowling, my drinking sprees, and chit-chats at the cafeteria with Ate Liza and her helpers.

Whenever it was time for lunch, I had used to just go to the cafeteria's kitchen and salivate at the different sets of meals there. I choose what could satisfy my appetite and leave, I wait for a few minutes and "Renee" (one of the helpers) would deliver them at my door. Dishwashing was never a problem. That was prior to me contracting the disease.

Things changed after, I started avoiding the cafeteria, made a phone call whenever I felt hungry, told them to put my meal in small plastic bags. I didn't want to use any of their utensil to avoid contamination. Oh, how I missed the gossips and talks while caffeinating myself with Ate Liza and Renee.

Being visible to the people I know was hard to deal with. I avoided going out. On the weekends, I would rather stay at home which my neighbors and my housemates thought was unusual. A lot of people really had no idea what the disease was. Apart from being advised to separate my eating utensils and stuff as the virus could be contagious and could infect anyone through saliva, I remember the doctor telling me to avoid any sexual contact to prevent the spread. I was worried that someone might get the virus from anywhere else and I might just end up as the scapegoat.

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My Choice is None of The Above

2007-09-05T12:07:00.000-07:00

Upon the confirmation of the doctor that I was indeed positive of the virus, I felt like the world just fell on me. Never had I imagined myself actually contracting the disease. I was still in denial though the clear-cut proof of my jaundice should have been enough for me to submit to the horrible fact that people around would start shunning me. Or I had to shy away from them myself if I wanted to avoid scorn.

"Ok, I have the virus, it must be it," I told myself when the doctor handed me the prescription. "Doc, do I have A or B?" I hastily asked. "Your results will still have to be looked into at the laboratory.", he said. He had just injected me with the Anti-Hepa B vaccine, though he himself wasn't clear yet of the diagnosis. "It could be A or B if we dismiss the fact that there must be something wrong with your gall bladder. I want you to come back next weekend so I can give you the result and perhaps prescribe you more medicines," he added. From the looks of my deformed tummy, it was clear that he was just trying to pacify my paranoia.

"For the meantime, you avoid indulging yourself in junkfoods, softdrinks, fatty foods and alcohol, he ended as he left for his room. "But, can I smoke?" I blurted out just before he was gone. He turned his back and gave a vague response. "As much as possible you have to avoid smoking." I am a smoker and I thought I could give up some of my physical desires but not yet ready to give up smoking.

I was anxious when I looked at his first prescription. He recommended three types of medicines that I had to regularly take. My visual math skills estimated around 500 pesos a day (around 12 dollars)for my expenses. I got more worried. "How could I exact my salary knowing that I have to continually support my family while taking medications?", my thoughts again.

When I got to work, I immediately told my boss of the sad news. My mind kept telling me that my boss had something to do with it. I had been overworked for almost a year working daily for almost 16 hours. I felt exploited being a pioneer teacher in his company like I had to wake up at 5:00 a.m and would go to sleep at around 12:00 midnight.

Not minding whether other companies would still hire me as a worker, I with the courage told my boss that I would have to quit the job because of health reasons. On second thought, I got worried about the coming months, the future. Most companies conduct rigorous medical exams and I might not just make it. My family was my priority. I should make the right choice. When my boss asked for another consideration, I quickly said yes especially when he said we needed to hire another teacher to somehow lessen my workload.

The next day, my boss asked me to scan the prescription and show him a sample of the medicines I had started taking. I was advised by the doctor to be under medication for two months and that must have been hard to deal with. I just don't support myself but my family. Maintaining my health spending mostly of my daily wage on my medicines almost made me hopeless. Then my boss, told me he would send me medicines that would last for two months. I felt relieved.

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Trojan Horses Almost Kicked me Off

2007-09-03T23:57:00.000-07:00

As some of you already know, I teach ESL online. Last Friday, 31 of August, I just ended up my class just before I was about to have dinner. Suddenly, when I looked at my taskbar, an old student's Messenger window highlighted and it caught my attention as it just kept on blinking. I might have been so excited to hear from that student. I haven't heard from him for a long time and it felt strange that he would suddenly send me something out of the blue.

Out of curiosity, I clicked on the Windows Live Messenger's conversation Window. It said, "Joe wants to send you the file mygallery5156..." Just below that, there were options as to whether, I would accept the file, save it or decline it.

Before clicking on to it, my fellow teacher Oliver came rushing to my station, "Who's that student Joe?" "He just sent me the same file but I did not open it," he said just as soon as I had started extracting the file. "Don't open it, that could be a virus," Oliver added. Knowing Joe for a long time, my instinct just told me that he would not have the guts to be sending me some viruses. I just successfully made a zipped copy of the file attempted to open it but it would not show me any pictures.

"Oliver was right," I thought. I quickly deleted the files and ran my virus scanner. Later, it found no virus. While having classes in the evening, I just noticed that the virus was like automatically sending itself to all my online contacts. Two of my classes got disrupted because my computer would freeze and I could not click on anything. I had to apologize to my students several times. I even had to log out and log back in just to deal with the onset of the virus. I got a little bit agitated that there were moments I was denied of opening any Messenger Window.

A few minutes again after that, another teacher told me that her computer just froze. Oliver and I just found out that she herself received the virus and it almost ruined her computer. She had to use another PC because her computer just kept on blinking, any application would not finish processing because the desktop or the screen monitor would refresh every after a few seconds or so.

It so happened Oliver had his USB and had some AVG Virus scanner setup. He quicky installed it on the PC and it healed the damage.

Thinking that my PC was safe since I ran F-Prot Antivirus Scanner, I turned off my computer, left work, unmindful of the fact that there could be some virus which the scanner was just unable to detect.

After my days off when I got back to work, I just realized that my computer has started blinking and it could not run processes. It would not let me open the files on the desktop though I could access the Internet explorer without any trouble.

When Oliver came to work, my hopes beamed that he could fix the problem. The blinking on the PC though would not let him install the AVG scanner on my PC through his flash drive. The more I got worried and I was very uneasy. I couldn't concentrate at work.

Out of nowhere, It just crossed my mind to get some help online since I had the ability to browse the Internet and I was actually logged in to Blogcatalog. Thanks to Chris for the link he provided to get rid of the virus.

After running the scanner, two types of Trojan Horse Viruses were moved into the the vault and my computer was back to normal. That day I sounded so techie that I started informing my students about it.

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Hepatitis : A or B?

2007-08-30T10:25:00.000-07:00

This is the continuation of the post A Bloated Pimple Then A Sty

I must have overslept. The new year bash kept me busy and deprived of several hours of sleep. It was past one in the afternoon but I was still lying in bed at the office. I just arrived in Manila from a four-day vacation back home in my hometown. Must have been really tired the night before. That was the first week of January.

A little later as I was about to get out of bed, the door to my room opened. It was my boyfriend. "Don't you have a class? Get out of bed, your students must be waiting for you." I was really, really tired that my eyes woudn't even open. My boyfriend kept tugging me. "My first class is more than an hour from now, I still want more sleep," I replied. Just as I was turning over, and was trying really hard to open my eyes, "Why are your eyes yellow?" he blurted. I didn't mind him. He might just have been so desperate forcing me out of bed.

He came closer and started opening my eyelids. He looked closer and with some expression of worries, said, "Your eyes are really yellow, wake up and see your self in the mirror." I quickly got up, stared at him nervously, and went to where the small circular mirror was. I kept thinking to myself that he was just kidding trying so hard to get me out of bed.

When I reached for the mirror, I paused, I felt like I didn't want to see the reality. I didn't put it right in front of my face. "What if he was right?" I just thought.

When I gathered my composure, I stared directly at my eyes. I instantly trembled at the sight of what I thought was the end of my happy days. My boyfriend was right, my eyes indeed turned yellow. I quickly went to the bathroom and washed my face immediately focusing on my eyes. I started thinking of many things. The first thing which came to my mind was "HEPATITIS". It couldn't be. My mind woudn't settle to accept such a disease. I was in denial. I never had sex with anybody other than my boyfriend. He doesn't have the disease. I could have been careless with my diet. So many thoughts, I was in paranoia. Oh, and we just had overeaten some pizza yesterday and I over indulged myself with platefuls of spaghetti at the cafeteria. I was restless.

I thought of other diseases that could have been associated with it. What if it were associated with AIDS? I was so scared. Who would look after my younger sister, my family? "This is my doom." I guessed. Then, my mind took me back to a time when most people in my neighborhood talked about hepatitis and dreaded the disease. I saw some people with it. It made me remember the time I didn't even want to drink water though I was thirsty when I was once invited at their homes. I felt some kind of contempt within me when I looked into their yellow eyes. How could have they contracted the disease? They must not have had good hygiene. Gosh, I was too judgmental then.

That same week on the weekend, we went to a private hospital. I was found positive of the hepa virus...

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Jingoism: The Poor Philippines

2007-08-28T00:05:00.000-07:00

Just got off from a three-day vacation. Wow, it must have been awesome though I had to spend most of the time watching TV and taking a nap at home. Reminds me of Murphy's Law. I had always yearned for a three-day vacation at least but was never granted. I was always very busy. Those were the times I had enough money for my fare and for some allowance I could leave my parents before another six hours of a tiring trip to Manila on the bus. How ironic that I have the time now but I don't have the money.

We have had two holidays in less than two-weeks. In fact, my boss complained that some of our students might think we are taking them for granted. Nonetheless, he gave us the go signal to take additional day off.

Going to work is not a problem. Prior to the holiday on the 27th of this month which happened to be a Monday, I even asked my boss if he would allow us to go to work. I think he was trying to avoid the expense of paying his workers double that he vehemently said no. That was so strange of him. He used to be always adamant as to ignore the Philippine Holidays and kept saying that this is a no-no in Korea. He would always point out that the Philippines is still one of the poorest countries in the world because of so much holidays. Like people love slackening off. Well, he must be right. He certainly hit the mark. Sometimes fervent Nationalism contributes to our lackadaisical economic development.

It's true, I have always wondered why my country is always left behind. The Philippines is a grim picture of poverty. Our leaders always say, we have an edge over our Asian counterparts because we are one the few Christianized countries in Asia and we can speak English better than they do because of the American influence. That means we should be more globally competetive and versatile. True again, but I don't see the fruit of all the effort.

Once I remember pleading my boss for a cash-advance. My parents were in dire need then. As I and my boss were going down the stairs, "You know, your parents are still young. You are working hard for your money. Let them work for their needs," he said. "You know, your country is poor because everybody is so dependent from each other," he added. He still gave me some money for the cash advance and I excitingly deposited the money to my brother's bank account. For a while, I thought to myself, "I'm very much attached to my family that I can't just leave them the way they are now".......

Oh, and I don't want to talk more about "Close Family Ties"
and "Utang na Loob" ("Sense of Indebtedness")

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Unleash your secrets

2007-08-22T20:13:00.000-07:00

Life has so many twists. Life is like a wheel. Life has ups and downs. And if you look at my banner you will be reminded that life can be a bed of roses and can be a bed of nails. Life indeed is full of mystery.

Secrets, these can spice up one's life. To some people, these add color to their existence. Secrets kept for a long time often bothers people. Once they are divulged, a certain kind of bliss is achieved.

And so is the purpose of paisley in coming up with a site where you can exactly tell the world of your darkest, deepest secrets. Unleash them and feel a different sense of bliss.

A bloated pimple...then a sty...What's next?

2007-08-21T21:42:00.000-07:00

Just more than a week ago, I had a pimple. That pimple got infected and it got bloated. That was the first time ever I got a bloated pimple. It looked like a boil and the sight of it was disgusting. I felt like I never wanted to go out and avoid entertaining questions about it from people. That small zit, which obviously got irritated disappeared after a week but then it repuffed up after.

Two days ago, that pimple finally left its spot leaving a small scar on my face. It kept me paranoid for over two weeks. I felt relieved but on that same night, I felt a twinge of pain on my right eyelid. I felt burdened with a simple wink. That made me wonder whether sty could be contagious or not because prior to that upon arriving home from work last week, my boyfriend's sister had a big one on her left eyelid. It had disappeared though before Monday. She told me she had to do some offerings in her room like she had to light a candle, whisper some prayers and spread some candy around. She thought there must have been some evil spirits lurking around her room thus she got one. I'm not that superstitious to believe that that paved the way for the cure. Now, I am thinking of like doing the same thing in the next few days if mine lingers.

It is really itchy and painful. I also get the feeling that some evil spirit must be concocting some spell on me. I am totally clueless. Could this be something I have to worry about in the next few days? What if my tummy gets bloated next. Oh my, I am dying to have my own child but not to look impregnated.(LOL)

I really can't help but be paranoid. Until now, I haven't had another checkup since February this year. January 5, 2007. How could I forget that day. That was the day I thought would be the end of my struggles and somehow my happiness. That day when I was lying in bed and my boyfriend came telling me my eyes have gone yellow.

Rainy Days and Memories Part II

2007-08-15T05:51:00.000-07:00

This is the continuation of the post Rainy Days and Memories.

The picture looks fresh from how I conjure the actualities in my thoughts...

The transistor radio is always on. While watching my mom doing our neighbors' laundry, her ears are too focused on the radio drama that she has been regularly listening to. After the drama, she turns off the radio leaving some soapy water on the knob.

"We have to conserve the batteries because the news said that there is a coming storm tonight." I look at the skies and the sunshine has been so selfish all day, it had been within the past days, cloudy skies, and cool weather, giving me some goose bumps everytime a splash of water kisses my skin. My mom is menially brushing the dirty clothes on a backboard made of a slab of wood.

I quickly get up from where I am seated. "Hey, where are you going?" Go get twenty pesos from my sweater's pocket in the room. It's almost lunch time. Buy a kilo of rice and a small can of sardines," my mom says. (That's about fifty cents these days)I get inside the house and go to my parents's room walking past the empty table in the kitchen. While taking out the money from my moms pocket, I can't help but realize the poverty that my family has been into. "Why can't we afford to buy a sack of rice that will last for several weeks so I and my brothers don't have to go the variety store every now and then for a kilo of rice and a can of sardines?"

Glad there is something for some fish, I have been sick and tired of eating plain rice mashed with some soy sauce and lard. I pretty much enjoy it though, particularly on a very cold weather. I just noticed that I enjoy eating whatever is served on the table when it's cold while hearing the lashing storm outside and the whipping on the galvanized walls and roof on our house of the bamboos in the backyard. Yes, and the bamboos are a great provider, my dad would get some shoots and my mom would gladly boil them and saute in oil, ginger, and garlic. If there is more, my dad would ask my older brother to sell them to the neighbors so we could buy more rice and sustain ourselves for the next few days.

I just fold the bill in my palm and hold it tightly as I get out of the room. I must have developed a phobia once I placed the money in my pocket which was supposed to buy as a meal and lost it somewhere. I had gotten the umpteenth corporal punishment from my dad because of the incident. On my way out of the house, I glance at the dirty kitchen extremely located on my right. I see my dad boiling some water for some cups of coffee to sustain his addiction and basically the entire family's addiction to it. While teary eyed and dingy because of the smoke coming from the woods, he occupies himself stacking chopped woods above the fireplace. Oh, we can't afford to have a gas stove yet. Even a single burner must be a dream for us for the time being.

He piles the wet pieces of wood just above the hearth where he made up a hanging shelf intended for them. He is always in a haste to free them from moisture. Momentarily, he sees me and asks the same question my mom had earlier for me. "Buy me a few sticks of cigarettes if there's any change," he adds. I hate the idea knowing how dirt poor we are but I have no choice. I sulkily leave the place.

My dad is deprived of any jobs during inexorable weather, and so is my older brother waiting for the sunshine to peek out of the sky soon so he could display his horse for horseback riding at a nearby park. That means money if he gets tourists ride on his horse for an hour or so. I have always looked up to him as a brother who always displayed so much concern for the entire family and who at a young age learned how to work not only for his own but for several mouths to feed at home.

Around one to two times a day during the rainy days, he wears his old raincoat which already looks like a trash, socks a pair of plastic bags on his feet and wears his leaky rubber footwear given by my dad. He leaves the house, takes an empty sack from the stable outside, a scythe and braves the storm to get some grass for the animal.

After lunch, my older brother comes home. I knew it was dangerous for him to have gone out of the house. I may not show him my concerns but I am glad he is safe. Much to my delight and my younger brothers', he takes home with him fallen off pomelos, wild passion fruit, avocados, and chayotes he picked up around the neighborhood. We sumptuously fare on them while our parents enjoy a nap in their room. We play some little games inside the house since there is no TV set to entertain ourselves. If ever there were, the power outage would always be a problem. The only thing ran by electricity at home is the single bulb located in the small living room between the only two bedrooms in the house. We get tired after some time, and proceed to our room opposite our parents'. The house becomes quiet as we snuggle in the cushionless bed just before dusk comes. I close my eyes, whisper a prayer hoping that God provides us another kilo of rice when the night comes.

"Hey, I thought you have a class at 5:30 p.m." Lisa, the cafeteria owner said. I came to my senses, rushed up to my station and clicked on the video icon on the messenger menu while anxiously thinking of my family back home. "Oh, it's rainy days again and I have to work doubly hard."

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Some Thoughts on Learning English

2007-08-13T19:36:00.000-07:00

Oh, I remember those terribe years when the only English expression I could mutter was, "I don't care!" and I felt so good as one of those elementary students who was obviously wanting to learn the Language but was having a hard time understanding its complication.

As an ESL teacher, I have tried to adopt some of my own teaching techniques which I find helpful in imparting the English Language to my Korean students. Oftentimes, I find fulfillment when students appreciate my effort and when they start showing little improvements in the course of time. On the other hand, it is so frustrating on my end when they start quitting their classes because they don't feel any progress at all. As people always say, "We don't learn English overnight", and as Paisley mentioned, "Rome wasn't build in one day."

Well, I just want to brighten up your day and share this video about studying English. Take a look in case you haven't seen it yet. I just find this so funny and it always makes me smile. How I wish I could also do this once in a while, lol.

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Rainy Days and Memories

2007-08-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

"Teach, I had to come early because there is a typhoon." I turned around as I was still having a class and it was Teacher Shirley who just got in the office putting out her umbrella on the floor. Her big umbrella wasn't enought to keep her dry. She was wet upon arrival.

"What? There's a typhoon? Why in the world didn't I hear of that?" I said, after clicking on the messenger icon to end the video call I was having with my student online.

I must have been very busy lately that I don't even have time to go out of the building nor look outside the window and see the world outside. I realized that I have been so absorbed in my computer either preparing students' tests, evaluations, and reports, and most of the time lurking around blogcatalog. I used to possess what my college teacher taught us as "the nose for news" but these days I am really clueless about what's going on around.

"Ohh, I feel stupid," I thought as I rushed at once towards the window at the back of my office. It was raining cats and dogs. I just recalled that my boyfriend had just left and worried that he might have been drenched in the rain by that time.

I kept staring at the number of people running around the streets looking for a temporary shield from the rains. Some parts of the roads were starting to get flooded because of the clogged sewers. A few moments later, the winds have gone gusty and you could see umbrellas' being blown away by the billowing winds.

"Teach," I told Teacher Shirley,"Please stay here and tell boss that I was having coffee in case he calls. I will be back in a while." With so little said, I hastily made it to the cafeteria on the fourth floor.

Lisa, the Cafeteria owner knew my presence and automatically grabbed a styro-cup and a pack of a three-in-one coffee. I would often drop in the cafeteria to have small chit-chats with the people there and savor at least three cups of coffee in a day. "'Ate'(-pronounced as ah-te, a Filipino honorific term for an older woman)until when is the typhoon going to affect Manila?" I asked her. She was too preoccupied, and just said, "I don't know.!" and turned her back towards the kitchen.

I made myself comfortable in one corner of the only square table inside while enjoying every sip of my coffee....To be continued..

Blogcurry.com Gives More About Blogging

2007-08-09T01:18:00.000-07:00

Most of us bloggers started from scratch and I know we had our own ways on how to somehow make our blogsites to what they are now. Other than the wonderful communities that we belong in, we get to learn and interact with so many blogsites that offer information about blogging like making money, maximizing traffic, enhancing ranking and stuff.

I myself benefit a lot from these wonderful sites. It is a blessing that they put their efforts not only for their selfish interests but for the interest of others. To mention a few, I sometimes visit Online Tips, Tricks, and Tools , Blogging Mix, and my latest discovery, Bloggingcurry.com. Bloggingcurry.com is James Allen's spot in the blogosphere to keep track of all the other blogs that discuss things about blogging. This site is surely a wonderful resource for all the things that we have to know about blogging. Why not check it out?

He Behind Me and I Behind The Tree

2007-08-03T02:35:00.001-07:00

This is the continuation of the post Faggot Bitch

"Aha, so after all of this time of living a decent and moral life despite my homosexuality, this is what I have to hear from my dad? And why the hell didn't I defend myself?" I just froze when he started talking earlier. Time has tested, no one at home would ever beat him in an argument. I didn't want to argue anymore. Not want to set the small spark ablaze.

I became so close and attached with my friends that I would often arrive home late. My friends and I would often watch TV until 2:00 or 3:00 a.m, or talk about the teenage life, sometimes drink, help each other remodelling or giving one's room a fresh look, play scrabble or sometimes table tennis. (You know teenagers have so much excitements and proclivity to so many things.) Deep inside, it was also a way of rebelling against my parents for not supporting my education. Many people said I was a waste that my intelligence was not nurtured. That aggravated the self-pity I had for myself.

Upon realizing that he had already fallen asleep, I half-opened the small window in my room and crawled my way out. Had to be careful not to rouse the neighbors' dogs. It was around 2:00 pm. With some conviction in my mind, I heard a whisper say "Let the accusation come to life."

Walking several kilometers, reaching the park with insufficient illumination was easy. The park was so quiet. The only noise you could hear were the vehicles speeding up before daylight to reach their destination. I started wandering around and noticed some people sleeping on the park benches and the loans. I never noticed any suspicious activities.

Rumor has it that gays and call boys made it their rendezvous for some sexual pleasures in the dark. People say that some boys there are ready for pick up if you have the money. Interestingly, that is where university students who run short of money to pay for their tuition find the solution to their financial problems. I never had the money but I just got curious. The reality of it had never occurred to me before. Going there on shorts indicated I had no money but my curiosity and perhaps my excitement to find out the words of mouth myself catapulted me in no time.

An hour had passed and I didn't sense any signs of immorality. I decided to turn my back and walk my way back home. While at the outskirts of the park, I tried to look around bushes of wild sunflowers in abundance in the surroundings. I paused, heaved a sigh and not far from my stance, I saw a silhouette of a guy around 5'7". A little bit taller than me. I think he just made an inviting gesture, that I followed him.

He was completely a stranger but the darkness was not enough to cover his musculinity and his good looks. I didn't have second thoughts as he started to pull out his arms, I mean his weapon, oh sorry I mean his thing. (Ok, now I have to sound more nasty.....ready?)He pulled out his penis and started stroking it. Like tempting a child with a succulent and lickable chocolate.

Farther down the bushes was a tree which I didn't actually recognize. Might have been an avocado, but I never paid attention. He led me there, pulled down my shorts...and then...the rest was a combo of two P's. Pain and Pleasure. We never talked to each other after the quickie and I left. The guilt I had earlier as we were doing it accompanied me on my way home.

The day was breaking as I arrived home a little bit limping. Everybody at home was still asleep and I stealthily entered my room through that small window-my gateway to paradise and perhaps the threat to my salvation. As I was silently closing the window, I looked at the azuring sky and uttered to myself, "Please forgive me."

FLASHBACK: Knowing the real me was not an issue, though I was not so openly gay at that time, I never had any sexual intercourse with men until right after my dad's accusation.He just crushed my being. I never wanted to argue with the king of the house. The hurt and the constant "why's" just stayed within me. Until now, the hurt continues to ignite, but having accepted myself and perhaps God's plan for me is a consolation. I have forgiven my dad and learned to adjust.

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Faggot Bitch?

2007-08-02T01:46:00.000-07:00

My aunt says, "God only created Adam and Eve, a man and a woman." My cousin says, "If your girl classmates tell you, you are gay, go ahead and kiss them," and my father says, "Did you just have your ass cornholed again?" I arrived home late one time when I was still a teenager, I just dropped out of school then so bumming around was a habit with my close friends. My father couldn't send me to school and I was helpless.

I am getting so mushy again as I am flicking my fingers intermittently on the keyboard. Those words just keep playing in my ears like haunting music ripping me off a night rest.

"You faggot bitch!"(Baklang Puta) I was so dumbfounded my dad just told me that. Without having eaten the dinner which my mom lovingly put aside on the table, I headed for my room and confined myself in solitary for the verdict handed down to this innocent soul. Ah, that was several years ago, but it keeps crossing my mind.

Staring at the gloomy skies past midnight, I sat on my bed with tears rolling down my eyes. "Why did he tell me that? Did some of my neighbors hear that?",my mind again. My resentment just got heated up. I wanted to curse my dad at that time. I wanted to go out and shout that I didn't do anything wrong, much to the extent of having sex with men and come home late after. CONTINUE

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The Guilt Always Lingers

2007-07-31T09:49:00.000-07:00

Just another payday and what do I got? Nothing. Right now, I still have to dream about the next payday to come. Still haven't paid my liabilities for squandering my boss' money. That means I need to work my ass out for another month and hopefully by then, I have something to spend just in time for my birhtday come September.

Good thing, I have quit gambling before I could have committed suicide. Yes, I have some suicidal tendencies and I am doing my best to hold firm to my decisions. No more gambling.

Ah, the thought! Do I really have to spend for my birthday? Or do I really have to celebrate my birthday? The idea of it makes me sick but knowing a lot of my friends are anticipating it just leaves the pressure. Last week, my sister sent me a text message. "Damdamagen ni Mama nu katnu ka nga agpaw-it ti kwarta ta awan ti igatang na ti agas."("Mom is asking if you could send some money, she is sick and she really needs to buy medicine.") I didn't even bother to reply. Why? Where would I get the money?

Guilt, guilt, and guilt. So much of it has been accumulated. I am intact. Thanks it doesn't make me explode. But this emotional feeling belittles my persona, myself and me.

A few months back, I promised my brother I would send him to school. My parents are jobless. When the schoolyear began, I never kept in touch again with my brother. I broke my promise and I just felt so little for hurting him. It has been two years. How eager he wanted to go to school and on my second promise, the more I crushed his expectations. If I were him, I would have rebelled. I am glad I heard from my sister that he is at home helping with the housechores and helping my dad raising some three pigs. Oh, that doesn't make my dad jobless at all.

My sister again. I think she always looks up to me as a brother who is always ready to help her when she needs help with the things she needs. Like school supplies. My parents can't give her everything and she somehow depends a lot on me. She always proudly tells her friends and classmates about my job being a teacher. One thing should make her angry though, I never bought her the eight notebooks as promised.

And I have nothing to send my family this payday. I don't know how they survive, I just hope my other brothers are earning some good living to continually support our family. Close family ties-this is what binds us together after all these adversaries in life. My boss once told me, "Why do you have to carry the burden of supporting your parents and your younger siblings. Teach them to look for their own jobs and to support themselves. The reason there is no development in your country is because you all depend too much on each other's support." He certainly hit a mark on my head.

Do you think I am a bad son? Do you think I am a bad brother?

Goal In! For the Blogger Challenge

2007-07-30T10:22:00.000-07:00

A good friend at blogcatalog: came up with the idea of sponsoring his contest, "The Blogger Challenge": Just like me, he is new into blogging but he has been a long, long way. He seems so excited about blogging and his blogging progress has been tremendous I guess.

The goal is to challenge everyone to better their blog within one month beginning August 1, 2007. Judging will be based on the percentage increase in each of 3 categories… Technorati Favorites, Technorati Authority, and Alexa Ranking.

I had doubts joining the contest but my impulse tells me-I should give it a shot. Not only do I keep myself busy but offer myself a motivation to better my blogging. Besides, I owe a lot to blogging and the blogging communities I am in that somehow, I have deviated from my addiction to gambling and am on my way to proving everyone that there is something worth blogging for. What do you think?

My Bicycle In An Envelope

2007-07-30T03:41:00.000-07:00

Sigmund Freud says that dreams are the interpretation of our sexual desires and I like to think so. We have fantasies and anxieties we cannot express during our waking hours but we see them come to life in our REM (Rapid Eye Movement). According to psychologists, this is the stage of sleep where we dream.

I was once told that he was a cousin of mine though in the farthest degree. His name is Joel, he once passed by the pathway in the backyard of our house. I was thirteen years old then and was excitedly awaiting the opening of classes for freshmen students in a nearby highschool. I was on a hill not far from the house plowing the garden plots where I would be planting some sitting beans.

He was one of the few people in the neighborhood who caught my eyes. Wearing a folded jeans smeared with mud splashes upto his knees and shirtless walking barefoot, his view from atop the hill where I was tending my garden seemed thrilling. I followed him with my eyes 'til he vanished in my sight.

Long story short, we became classmates and the rest was just a dream. Please check My Dreamzzz World: to see what the dream is all about.

I Just Love Blogcatalog

2007-07-27T16:56:00.000-07:00

As a new blogger, I started wondering how to attract people to see my little sites. Getting two or three readers in a day would complete it. Then somebody told me about Blogcatalog. I actually posted an online help on Yahoo Answers and that is where I got the reply. He gave me a list of more than 20 blog communities and directories, but there must be something with blogcatalog that makes it one of my favorites. Gosh, like I spend more than ten hours online Blogcatalog. Funny, that I always make sure I am logged into it while teaching my students online. You can here me clicking all the time.

Why do I like Blogcatalog?

I like its user interface if I may call it right. Blogcatalog as compared to other blogging communities is very user friendly. I mean, as a member you can make yourself at home. I remember on my first day and in less than hour, I easily got my way around. Like the profile page reminds me of the living room where you entertain your visitors and friends. And if you are hungry for a good talk and just want to share your ideas, you can go to the "Kitchen" or I mean the discussion area. You have to find out the other rooms yourself and I know it's gonna be facile.

This community is where your blogs can be noticed and get more people visit your site. It is indeed a community where people can respond to each other, communicate and reciprocate each other. There are several neighborhoods to join and discover.

The Good News

Now, more people have known my sites and my traffic seems to be increasing as the time goes by.

I Just Love Blogcatalog.^^

Hiding in my own little castle

2007-07-25T10:43:00.000-07:00

Currently, I live with my boyfriend's family. It's a small place but compared to my previous dwellings, I found some peace here. That could have been 100% if everyone in the home knows the real me. Yes, sad to say that not everyone in the family knows about my queer personality. Perhaps they all know but they just don't want to tell it straight to my face. I think, this is the reality. In as much as we don't want to hurt someone's feelings, we tend to conceal our real intention through display of pretensions.

As of yet, I still have to suck up to everybody's expectations. It's hard but I have to live with that and I know it is temporary.

My boyfriend has somehow planned to go back abroad and would have gone earlier had I not always discouraged him. We are still together and we both share the ups and downs of living in a society where people like us always have to struggle with. I used to live in his family's house even before he went abroad but I left because I felt so scared of being alone. Now I am back to the place which I once turned my back on.

Somehow, I found a castle where I can't totally enjoy the bliss of freedom. It is a castle where my actions and words have to conform to the standards of a manly society. If not for my boyfriend, I would have shown who I really am in the first place. But things aren't just easy. There are people especially our loved ones that we don't want to hurt and we have to protect.

I once told him to tell about our secret but he didn't want to. When the time came that he was ready for the revelation, then it was I who changed his mind. Until now, everything is just a show. I always try to pretend who I am but I know I am not a bad guy. (I mean gay, lol.)

The Rescue

2007-07-23T12:19:00.000-07:00

After two months of destitution in my new found place, my prince in his shining armor came to the rescue. I call it destitution because I lived more poorly than a mouse. There were days and weekends I would just lie in bed and let go of my hunger. Ironic as it may seem, I would gladly lend a helping hand to neighbors borrowing money and kitchen utensils from me but when I am in need, I just feel timorous. My boyfriend would tell me it is my pride but I just don't really have the guts especially when I am not so familiar with the person's character yet.

One Saturday evening in the rainy month of September last year. I was so penniless and had not eaten for lunch and dinner that I just confined myself in the room lying in bed with the electric fan on. I was damn hungry. (I had just resigned earlier from my job and still waiting for the payday at my newly found one.) I couldn't hold out the hunger that as it was getting late I stealthily left the place to avoid the bystanders including Jonathan and his group mess me up.

I hurried to the bowling place on foot though it was drizzling, hoping that some of my friends were playing at that time. I had just joined a bowling club a few months ago then and I met some interesting and good people. I chanced to see them there that night and fortunately, I felt relieved at their presence in there enjoying some beer. They were just done playing the last round of their bowling games.

Without hesitation, I told my gay friend Fred, that I had skipped two of my meals and was hoping he could lend me a hundred pesos to get me through the weekend while waiting for my payday. He did give me some money and asked me to go to the nearest cafeteria and reminded me that I would rather spend the night at his home after.

At his home, we continued drinking some rounds of beer. After a while, he told me that my boyfriend had just sent him a message asking about my whereabouts and my condition. I had not kept in touch with my boyfriend for quite a long time at that time since I lost my phone and had no money for a replacement. He never knew about my new boarding house and I had to keep it secret so as not to make him worry.

We went drinking until daybreak until Fred offered me his phone. "Why don't you call him at his house?" I asked, "Who?" He said, "Your boyfriend!""You're kidding!" I replied. Him again, "I am serious, he just sent me a message that he is coming here to see you. He has been here a few days ago!" With that confirmation, I sat down at the corner of the sofa and started getting so emotional. I felt so relieved and tears just started rolling down eyes. "You go and give yourself a bath before he comes!" It was Fred again handing me a towel.

When my prince arrived, I started crying. We hugged each other and he started caressing my back for the solace. I seemed like a child who has not seen his mother for a long time. Fred and his roommate who also happens to be a close friend of mine left laughing at the sight.

FLASHBACK:Though it pained us both, I recall him leaving a few months earlier to look for a greener pasture abroad. Five months later, he came back home because of some terrible working situations in a foreign country.

A few days later, I had to move out again.

He would offer sex then ask money after

2007-07-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

Being emotionally attached to someone or other people is basically the only consideration I have when leaving a place. I have been moving around Manila since I got here three years ago trying to fit myself to a place I always have trouble coping with.

I had just resigned from my call center job when I left Tita Pearly's house. It was hard for me to provide for myself and several times, I would have to lay down and sleep to compensate for my hunger. I don't recall the times my stomach was empty. I had to sell my small tv set and dvd player to an acquaintance just so I could pay for my next rental at a nearby village.

Just found the real me recently. I got sick and tired of pretensions and when I am in a new neighborhood, I want to give everybody the impression that I am indeed gay. I don't want to give them doubts. When I moved to the new neighborhood, most of the guys thought I was a man because my actions were manly. I right away met a guy named Jonathan, he volunteered to transport my luggage and stuff because we had to cross a bridge connecting to my new found room. The rental was much cheaper than at Tita Pearly's and I found the place free of roaches though there were mice on the ceiling frantically going to and fro particularly at night.

Inside the room, was a wide bed attached to the post. The height was about three and a half feet. I got surprised to hear from Jonathan that the place always gets flooded everytime it rains, thus the bed had to be elevated to free you from flood waters. I never knew that in the first place but there was no more chance for backing up. I had to face my new dwelling.

MEET JONATHAN

I and Jonathan became good friends. He didn't have a job. He's not really that good- looking guy on the block nor a plain looking guy. He had a certain appeal though. On my days off, he would often invite me to go to his place and friends' place to drink. Then, he would gladly take me back home to ensure my safety since I was new in the neighborhood. It was a squatters area and everybody had to be careful because there were a lot of gangsters and bums lurking around preying on neophyte residents.

Things got more scary in the next few days and in the next few weeks. All the guys I met there, most of whom were bums and jobless youngsters always waited and expected my arrival after work. They would gather in groups and everytime they see me coming, would ask me to buy some beers and liquor. I admit I had to heed to their calls and requests. I just wanted no one to begrudge me so I tried not to turn them down. What if one of them suddenly stabbed me to death. What if one of them just ransacked my room since I had to spend my time at work. I was so paranoid and in a dillema.

One time, at around 2:00 a.m, I heard a knock at the door. I asked who it was and it was Jonathan. He was drunk and when I opened the door, he got inside right away. I had no choice but to open the door anyway because its lock was broken and my landlady has not had it fixed yet. I went to bed straigt and turned my back on Jonathan, I knew what he wanted. I knew what he needed. He started bumping his dick on my back and asked that I could do anything I wanted. I wasn't in the mood because I was so tired from work. I told him to just leave the place because of fear that we might awaken the people in the other rooms and the people upstairs. Since the bed was attached to the post, it produced a squeaking sound everytime he moved and motioned forward.

Then, he just took off his shorts and pulled my head onto his crotch. He wanted me to give him a blowjob. I desisted but he insisted. He gave up and started masturbating. I got so worried about the squeaking sounds and the shaking. When he was done, he asked me to give him money. I said I didn't have money but he didn't believe me. He went on to look for my wallet and search all my pants and my clothings and my bags. He even threatened me that he would make a scandal and wake up all the neigbors if I didn't give him money. At last he found my wallet, and took the only coins in there, maybe around eight pesos. He put on his shorts then left.

Afternoon Delights and Night Goodbyes

2007-07-17T10:46:00.000-07:00

For two months more or less, I could describe my stay at Tita Pearly's(I actually had to change the real name) house as a torture. Too many times, I would run out of budget and would often skip meals because I also had to worry about Tita Pearly's needs. In my first few days, the give and take relationship we had was really fair. He would buy the provisions one time and I would the other time.

Eventually, I noticed myself doing the shopping and the spending alone. He became too dependent on me, and I did not have the guts to tell him straight to his face. To be honest, I got scared of him being the house owner and I did not want to stir a fight. All the people in the compound are his relatives and I had to be careful of my moves.

Another thing that ignited and triggered my dissatisfaction and disappointment with the place was that his relatives would often get their own shares from whatever I take out from the grocery store. From sugar, to coffee, to cooking oil, dried fish and stuff. I felt like I was a charitable institution. Being bitten by roaches at least three times also worsened the situation. I had bulges on my skin because of roach bites.

There were also incidents, I would be asked to wash the dishes and prepare for lunch while he was having sex with his boyfriend in his room. His room is somewhat a poor man's mezzanine made of rusty galvanized iron and scraps of wood. The kitchen is just below it and I would hear the squeaking sound of the floor. Tita Pearly would soon tell me he had the "hellicopter ride."

Then I decided to leave the place. I wasn't sure where I was going, a friend of mine recommended me a place to move to but I had doubts.

THE CREEPY RESTROOM

2007-07-13T09:30:00.001-07:00

Just before I decided to go to sleep last night, I decided to at least post the title of my next article. I never realized that the title actually matched Friday the 13th. My intention was to describe the restroom at Tita Pearly's house. Of course, It had nothing to do with ghosts nor monsters but monster roaches. Read on.

Though I was unsatisfied of the sights in Tita Pearly's house. I told my self I could adjust. Maybe, I just needed enough time to find comfort in the place. But, yeah, I had adapted myself with my dark room with its very low ceiling. At times, it would be very very hot because there was no ceiling at all but the galvanized iron which directly radiates the heat inside the room. I felt like I needed not just one but two electric fans. It was very very hot during the day and whenever it rained it was very very wet. Can you imagine sleeping on the floor with at least three basins beside you trying to filter water penetrating through the roof? I even had to spread my dirty clothings to absorb water that may sieve through my sheet. So many sleepless nights and sweaty days!

THE RESTROOM IN THE CELLAR AND THE WHITE COCROACH

One thing which I really hated at Tita Pearly's house was his restroom. The restroom was located under the kitchen. It was like a cellar. It's door was a wooden square about 2-square yards fixated on the kitchen floor. Upon opening the door, you have to move your feet commodiously to start groping for a couple of concrete stairs going down the restroom. It was a very congested place. There were three plastic crudded drums used for storing water and the ceiling were a bunch of decripit slabs of wood intertwined which also braces the kitchen above. The toilet bowl was very low that you really have to kneel down to take a pee and sit with your legs strained when taking a crap. You could hardly stand inside because the height of the room is really low as well. There are short clotheslines attached to the ceiling and most of the time you see wet clothes hung. On top of that, you see big cockroaches crawling upon them. I never hung my clothes there for God's sake. Once inside, you have to cover your nose because the pozo negro stinks to the max and plunging after is harder to imagine.

Going to the restroom when I needed to was a nightmare. Most of the time, I would ask a neighbor's permission to use their better looking restroom. Whenever I used Tita Pearly's restroom as to when I needed to take a shit, I had to move my head and eyes around trying to spot roaches that might just get onto me. Sometimes, there were drippings coming from the ceiling, might be their urine, eeek. That's where you could find different kinds of roaches, from the big ones to the small ones, from the shiny colored one's to the dark-browned colored,and for the first time in my life, that's where I saw a medium-sized white cockroach. Strange.

The restroom also had poor illumination. One of the reasons roaches found it their sanctuary. The moment you turn on the light, then you will be scared to hear thousands of small feet and roaches running away to their hideouts. Ironically, Tita Pearly always wanted the light off after use. Sometimes, I would see him take a bath there with the lights off because there were also holes on the walls and neighbor's might peep inside.

Of Mice Again and Roaches This Time-The Final Episode

2007-07-12T10:58:00.000-07:00

Early last week, I checked my e-mail and an e-mail from Ranting Willow greeted me with the 'The Thinking Blogger Award.' I was very much honored and delighted to have received such an award. I am new to blogging and that was really unexpected. Right now, I actually want to go to sleep but I just feel so uneasy. (Perhaps, I am worried about the possible disconnection of our dsl and electricity tomorrow.)

Earlier, I was trying to figure out how to get the "Thinking Blogger Award" logo or badge and post it on my site but I just couldn't. I am not really that techy. I think I am left behind. I was blankly staring at Willow's Tree and I just couldn't get started. I have started choosing some of the blogsites though, I would be passing the award onto. Hopefully, you could see them here in the next few days. For the meantime, I have decided to continue writing about my experiences with roaches and mice.

If you are somewhat lost, you can refer to my older post with the title "Of mice again and roaches this time" and then read on.

CONTINUED FROM "OF MICE AGAIN AND ROACHES THIS TIME

Just before I finished my last bottle of beer on the table. I affirmed my plan of moving in to his apartment. I think I was delighted with the short talk that we had that I never haggled over the rental fee. Apparently, he charged me with the same rental fee I was paying in my old boarding house. As I went to the counter to order more bottles of beer, a middle-aged lady, whispered something into my ears. "You should have turned down his offer." "You will regret your decision soon", she added.

Let's call my soon-to-be gay landlord 'Pearly'. As I sat back at the table, Pearly's smile was immeasurable. He was so happy that he won my decision. We agreed that I would start giving my advance payment the next day and start moving in my stuff and some furniture little by little.

THE ANNOUNCEMENT

"One thing!", I reminded him as we were moving my furniture and baggage into his house. "Please let everyone in the neighborhood know I am gay, I won't be comfortable moving around here if there are any suspicions of my gender. Though I act manly, I want the people around to know who I am. No pretensions as I want to consider this my second home." While we here headed towards his gate as he promised (it wasn't actually a gate, it was a door just below the waist poorly fixated at the doorway, its sound was very irritating everytime people and Pearly's dog would do their in and out of the house), he made a special announcement to all the neighbors kibitzing my entrance. I was a new face so everybody waited and wondered about my presence. He started, "Introducing, ....my boarder,------and my sister. Please be kind to him, if I see anyone cause him trouble or lay a hand on him and his things, they won't be able to pass by my pathway. Do you understand?" Everybody said,"Yes, Tita." (Tita, is a Filipino term for 'aunt' and is punningly used to refer to old homosexuals.

Once inside, I easily felt uncomfortable. I actually felt disgusted that my expectations were not what greeted me. The floor was squeaking everytime I made a step, and there were lots of holes on the walls. I saw lots of roaches when I glanced at the kitchen on my left which was next to the living room. That was my first time to see really different species of roaches frantically crawling on the kitchen utensils like on the sugar and salt containers, etc. On the right of the living room, was a dark room with its door left open. The door seemed dilapidated as it wouldn't close and fit into the door frame when I tried to push it. Tita Pearly entered the room and took with him some of my things. "This will be your room," was his eager reply to my hidden disgust. The room was really dark and the only incandescent bulb it had was even busted. It was small and it had unevened floor covered with filthy floormats of mixed colors and cuts put on top of each other. The floormat covered what seemed to me were slabs of wood and pieces of plywood patched to comprise the floor. I lay down the things in my hands and so he did. He moved a little bit further and he touched the mounted cabinet in one corner. I heard some small rumbling sounds. If I was not mistaken, we just disturbed what seemed like a big rat and it just ran away. I went out of the room pretending that I was alright. He followed me to the living room and he asked, "What do you think?" I lied when I told him, "It's ok, you can leave me here so I can fix my stuff." He left me in the living room seated in a small wooden bench. His dog which seemed flea-ful kept scratching himself under the bench. He went out of the house to call a neighbor fix the light in my room. READ MY POST: "THE CREEPY REST ROOM" to learn what happened next.

Part II-The Awakening (I hope it is, finally...)

2007-07-11T22:50:00.000-07:00

When my boyfriend came to the office as he had been looking for me for several hours, I was having a cup of coffee at the cafeteria on the fourth floor. I deemed I needed a cup of coffee since I had not slept in the last twenty four hours. I also had no choice but to teach my remaining students If I wanted to stay in the job and not upset my boss. Though feeling sleepy, I had to log in to Messenger and contact my students. I had to apologize repeatedly to some for keeping them wait.

While having a class, my boyfriend waited for me in my sleeping quarter located just beside my station. I hurried to my quarter right away during my five-minute break. "What happened to you?" he asked with some conviction in his voice. "Didn't you know that I got so worried about you?" I had to call all our contacts to ask about your whereabouts? You did not even bother to text me nor call me? I haven't eaten anything the whole day because I was so worried about you. I went to the park and tried to search for you there? What if you committed suicide as you planned last week?" Words continue to float in the quarter and then he burst into tears. He was sobbing and I was emotionally carried away. Tears also rolled down my eyes but I had to control it. I was thinking about my next class.

I told him, that I had gone to the Casino last night and I just got back to work. "I told you not to go there anymore, you are worsening the problem. You have a very nice job but you don't seem to care," he added. I gave him a hug and I told him that that would be the last time I would go the gambling place. "But you promised the same thing before and nothing happened," he questioned. I hugged him tightier and told him I would be firm with my decision.

As I left him in the quarter for my next class, I looked up the ceiling and realized how so much indebted I am. I have gambled even the money my boss sent me to pay our maintenance for the company. Then I remembered God.

In our lives, we often question the existence of God. When we are in prosperity, we don't even take the time to thank him. Ironically, the first thing that crosses our mind when things are going rough is his name and his power to intercede in our problems.

The Awakening ( I hope it is, finally..)

2007-07-11T10:19:00.000-07:00

Whenever I have plans for myself, procrastination is my worst enemy.

Sometimes, I hate talking about New Year's resolutions knowing that I won't be able to keep them anyway. I feel sorry for myself for constantly asking other people's advice but not taking the heed. Most of the time, I feel like I want the whole world to hate me and condemn me for being such an addict-a person hooked to gambling. I think I have always considered life as a game that most of the time I don't take it seriously. Whenever I lose huge amount of money, I have the proclivity to end my life or just wander in the streets and live like the the tramps full of cruds on the streets. I deeply apologize to all the people, my friends who have constantly discouraged and warned me about my gambling addiction but to no avail. Your words of encouragement and enlightening were enough to keep me going despite my being embattled these days.

The other day passed and I was in hot water. I still am until now. The problem has not yet been solved. Despite the persistent warning given by my boyfriend, I still braved the heavy rains and made my way to the Casino. I bet, I stayed there for more than twelve hours, and as usual I lost. The only consolation I got was that I was able to take back the phone which I pawned again three days ago.

I came to the office late and I missed two of my classes. My boss really got mad and my fellow teachers were so worried that they started texting and calling all possible contacts of mine to learn about my whereabouts. I did not bother to text them nor call them since my phone had been dead for several hours. At the office, upon turning on my computer, my boss sent me an instant message right of the bat and I had to make an alibi. I wonder if he knew it was a lie. I didn't tell him what really happened. Somehow, I feared losing my job. Things popped in my mind and I was taken to a scene where I saw myself begging on the streets and all my friends and relatives turned their back on me. They got fed up helping and giving me advice.

Though groggy and sleepy as I was, I started my first class and told myself, "I made my way out now, I won't ever go to the Casino anymore." Moments later, my boyfriend arrived and he was panicky.

Of mice again and roaches this time

2007-07-05T02:16:00.000-07:00

I know what you are thinking? You might have guessed that I will share with you my attempts at eating roaches in the past. Of course not, hehehe.

I have always observed that Koreans show a very distinct repugnance to roaches. They abhor them a lot. That make me think that Koreans must have decent and spick and span homes always free from bugs and the like. I am not saying that I live in an untidy environment, but the sight of cockroaches and other bugs is common place. When I was teaching in my hometown, I have witnessed several times how Koreans displayed their disgust and fear for roaches. There was one instance when I was having a class at the ground floor of our school building. While teaching a university student, I happened to side-glance at one chubby, tall and good lucking Korean guy approaching the kitchen nearby the cubicle where I was stationed for my class. He was frantically walking and when he saw a cockroach crossing the floor he jumped like a wrestler on an adjacent desk and he almost fell because of his heavy built. I could have almost laughed had my student not warned me that he was one of the bosses in school.

I myself certainly hate cockroaches but I don't give silly reactions when I see one of their kind. It's ok for me to see them but when they start crawling with the intention to touch any of my extensions unguarded, I freak out like an epilleptic. Sometimes, I have horrible pictures of roaches flashing in my head. When I eat something, I feel so paranoid, that several feet of roaches might have landed on my meal earlier. I am person who loves eating out mostly at cheap cafeterias which we commonly see along the roads.

Here in Manila, while working at a call center, I decided to rent a small room which I thought at first was a good place to stay at. My first priority then was the rental fee. It was really cheap so I grabbed the offer. I was drinking a few bottles of beer at a bar near a famous mall when an old man in his late 50's approached me. I did not sense right away that he was gay. When we started talking, he thought I was straight too. Upon learning that we belong to the same gender specification, I felt comfortable telling him a lot about me. "I am looking for a place to stay nearby." I confessed. "I have a mansion around here you know, I have my own gate, my own living room, my own restroom, and I have a lot of handsome boarders and neighbors." He added, "I am sure you will like it in my place. Besides the price is a little cheaper than the amount you pay for your current boarding house." He was very confident telling me the biography of his apartment and I was starting to imagine a paradise. "If you have no TV set then that is not a problem, I have a twenty-one inch color TV and you can watch anytime you want," he added. His good sales talk actually enticed me and I was instantly convinced.CONTINUED

Mouse Hunting for Food-Anyone?

2007-07-03T08:18:00.000-07:00

People eat at least three times a day. Some people though particularly those who can afford eat more than that? I don't call that gluttony. I just call that fortune. I mean most people who fare sumptuous meals deserve it. They worked hard for that and they have the budget to satisfy their cravings.

My family was just not that fortunate then or, perhaps my dad should have worked harder to have provided us our meals. I couldn't blame my dad though for some of the horrible experiences I had. I knew he only finished elementary school and there was no way he could somehow find a good job.

When I was younger, there were several times I experienced skipping meals. My mom and dad had a hard time making both ends meet for the family. As a carpenter, whenever my dad was offered some projects, he would gladly grab the opportunity. Many times though, he would remit less than half of his salary to my mom because more than half of it would be intended for buying some liquors. My mom had to end up doing some of our neighbors' laundry. She would get paid some meager amount, just enough for us to buy some kilos of rice and some homely dishes. Everytime I would see my mom washing our neighbors' clothes and see her hands with blisters, I would always tell myself that I would be a good child and student to give my family a wonderful future. (I think I failed in that area. I am getting older and I haven't learned from my lessons.)At a young age, I learned how to do the laundry because I couldn't bear seeing my mom doing it alone upto past midnight in some ocassions.

Unlike in Western countries, Filipinos consider rice as their main dish. Some well-to do people can prepare good dishes to pair with rice. As a child, I have experienced, eating rice with salt and water, rice with salt and used cooking oil, sometimes, rice with sugar or sometimes none at all. Sleep-all-day would be the remedy.

One time, I remember myself holding a barbecue stick and a piece of rubber band. It was like my bow and arrow. My dad on the other hand was holding a sling shot and we were stealthily waiting for some mice running in the kitchen. That was my dad's idea, we had no food at that time and he suggested that we catch some mice for our meal. The idea of it was really disgusting. At the end of the day, we did not catch any mouse. Can you imagine eating a house mouse? Some people in the Philippines do, but they eat rats from rice fields not from residential areas.

Can God Forgive Me? I did not send money for my dad's birthday because I went gambling and I lost.

2007-07-02T23:58:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, was my dad's birthday. I think he just turned 57 or in his late 50's. Prior to that, I promised myself that I would send him money so he could somehow celebrate his birthday at home with our family members and some of his friends.

You have learned in some of my posts that I used to hate my dad a lot. When I was younger, he projected an evil face which I always got scared off. Everytime the idea of him coming home drunk would catch my attention, I would tremble in fear and so with my brothers. I hated him for spending all his money on his friends and thus my mom would always end-up problematic of what to feed us for our meals. My brothers and I were malnourished and thin then. I hated my father for physically and verbally abusing my mother hundreds of times. I hated him for he almost killed my mom twice as far as I remember.

MY DAD ALMOST KILLED MY MOM

The first attempt to end my mom's life happened one afternoon. My mom was babysitting my youngest brother then while cooking some rice in the dirty kitchen. We were readying for dinner. When my dad arrived home, he was so drunken that he started shouting at my mom. I don't remember the cause of the trouble but I can vividly remember the scene where my mom was running down a slope with my baby brother on her back supported by a blanket around her body. My dad hurled a knife in her direction and she almost got stabbed. Luckily, the knife just got into a piece of her clothing. My mom, had to spend the night at a relative's house at that time. I forgot if we ever had dinner then but my brothers and I stayed with our uncles and aunts.

The second attempt happened when I was a university student. He came home drunk and he started arguing with my mom. I was already lying in bed at that time. I heard that his argument with my mom heated up and I got out of bed. To my surprise, my other brothers also got out of their beds. My dad just hit my mom on her head with a mug and she was bleeding profusely. Carried away by the sight and the situation, I and my brothers started taking it on our dad in chorus. I remember beating him a piece of hanger I grabbed around and my brothers throwing away their jabs and punches.

When I went home a couple of months ago, I realized that my dad has indeed changed a lot. He doesn't drink that much as he used to. Though he is jobless at the moment. He is no longer a headache to my mom. I felt delighted knowing the fact that the evil-faced dad, I used to hate is now a renewed man, so on my way back to Manila, I told myself, that I would make my dad happy by sending him money for his birthday. I know he is penniless most of the time being a jobless person. Whenever he celebrates his birthday, I know it is the happiest moment of his life. This is his chance to show his singing prowess, the chance to meet his friends, and the chance to have a taste of his favorite meat-Dog Meat. I am wondering how his birthday went by.

From Religious to Oblivious

2007-07-02T03:15:00.000-07:00

My Boyfriend asked me to go to church but I refused.

There was a time in my life when everyday would not go by if I had not prayed the rosary. Yes, at the age of 13, I started getting more aware of what religion was all about, of Jesus Christ, of Blessed Virgin Mary, and of The Roman Catholic Church.

All my family members and I were baptized under the Catholic Church. Though there were ocassions that only my mom and I would attend the Sunday mass at a nearby church, we would often go to church as one family all together on Sundays. The church was my refuge especially during the time my dad was a habitual drinker and would come home creating an atmosphere of war and hatred at home. I used to hate my dad a lot. These days though, I have somehow realized his importance to me and to my family. The last time I went home. I saw that he was a renewed man. My mom told me that he rarely drinks nowadays. That was one of the good news I have heard on my way back home then.

When things were getting rough for my family, there was also a time I gave up on my religion. I learned not to trust nor believe in God anymore. Then I became a more sociable person. There were people of course teasing me about my gender but that did not pave the way for me to live alone. I made a lot of friends in the neighborhood and I became a somebody. I was seen as a good example to my fellow children and citizens in the village. People would often see me as the best helper of my mom. I would do the laundry, clean the house, wash the dishes, sell ornamental plants so we could buy our provisions. One time when my mom just gave birth to my youngest brother, I had to carry the burden of doing all the household work. Despite people calling me gay, I became the apple of the eyes of most of the mothers in the village.

Then I learned to join a certain youth club. Eventually, I became one of its leaders. One of the founders of the club was a retired teacher who devoted her time in teaching us the word of God and Jesus Christ and Mama Mary. She soon became a nun. I really liked her and her devotion to serving the lord. That's when I learned the power of praying the rosary. I taught my brothers and my mother how to pray the rosary. My dad was not that religious so I did not bother to invite him because of fear of being turned down. It's ironic though because my dad always whispers some prayer before meals though he is not so vocal about it and he would find it uncomfortable inviting us in union of prayer.

Later, I started leading rosary crusades, joining Bible studies, recollections, and church-related activities. I learned a lot of miracles not only from the history, from the Bible but also from my neighbors. My faith in God grew and got deeper.

Sometimes, there are things in life, turns of incidents, circumstances that test our faith in God. I think I was a victim of it as my beginnings were gone to waste. I dropped out of school, my family remained one of the poorest in the neighborhood, and I had just no directions. I felt like the world was against me. My impatience consumed the whole me. At the end of the day, I just turned away from God.

I am writing this not because I want to express my disbelief in God. Though I have not been going to church, I believe in the existence of God. And that we are his ancillaries.

What's causing me pain is that I feel totally away from God because of gambling. My boyfriend is a very religious one and I really thank God for giving me someone like him who stands as my angel all the time. He always invites me to go to church but I always refuse him. He always prays for me. He goes to church every Wednesday and Friday on a regular basis. One time, when I lost at the Casino, my boyfriend asked me if we could drop by the church nearby. I was so bad that I refused him. May God forgive me for my doings. For now, I think I am not yet ready to bring back my inveterate belief in God. I am not yet ready to turn my back on gambling. For now, let my mental belief in God play my responsibility. I will always think of what my boyfriend told me. "You know, you give more time to gambling than to God and your friends!"

I had sex in the kennel

2007-06-27T22:52:00.000-07:00

When I was younger, I knew nothing about homosexuality. I heard no one say I was gay neither were there suspicions. I was just a very innocent child then trying to live life as it was.

There was one incident I can quitely recall. My family and I were then staying at one of the rooms in my uncle's house. My dad was working as a carpenter and he couldn't afford to have his family settle in a separate house. In that room lies a window fronting the yard where people in the neighborhood pass by. It had been my favorite place to stay at in the morning the moment I wake up. I see different people walking by and at times my mom brooming the yard. Out of nowhere to my recall, I was putting on lipstick while staring at my mom doing her chore. When she got in the house and saw me, she quickly grabbed the lipstick and told me not to do it. That was all she said and the incident just passed away.

When my dad decided to send me under my aunts custody in a nearby village, it was one of the happiest moments in my life. I got the chance to experience a better life because she could afford everything I needed from toys to sumptuous meals to expensive clothing which my dad couldn't give me and my brothers. In my aunts house, I always spent the time with my cousins playing, watching TV, teasing and giggling. Sometimes, we would all eat out as one big family and often eat 'halo-halo'-grated ice with some fruits, milk, and sugar. I particularly had a special liking and closeness with one of my female cousins. She was my aunts youngest daughter then and she was at least five-year older than I was. I was like her shadow, I was there wherever she went. From going to convenient store, to visiting her friends and classmates and when playing make-believe houses with make-believe husbands and wives and children with her playmates. I felt like she was the best person I met at that time because she was so special to me as a cousin. She would teach me madonna's and cyndi lauper's songs while bathing me and while I join her clean the house. I learned a lot from her. Later in my life, she would always tell me to ignore people telling I was gay and to kiss girls when they start teasing me about my gender.

One time in my cousins house, my male cousins made fun of me. If I remember it well, I was around five or six years old then. They started dressing me like a girl and they started putting me on some make-up. That was not a big deal for me since I didn't know then what was going on. When my dad, found out, he definitely got mad and took me away from my aunt's house. That was the time I started becoming conscious and aware of homosexuality though I didn't mind at all because I was still young.

Back at home, I met a neighbor at my age. (At that time, my family and I already had a house to call our own.) He and his family were new in the neighborhood. I don't know why, but I found him adorable and attractive. He had an angelic face, with thin straight hair, and fair complexion. We became playmates and I would always look for him after taking a nap in the afternoon. One time, I was alone at home because my mom and my brothers went to my uncle's house to watch TV. I called my friend at his home nearby and we played in our yard. We had a kennel in the yard since my dad always wanted to pet dogs to be butchered eventually. I don't know what got into me but I saw myself and my new found friend inside the kennel. I remember I asked him to take off his shorts which he did and I started playing with his small, cute penis. I don't remember what happened next but I vividly remember that as were lying there in the kennel naked, I heard the kennel's door open and the sight of my mom surprised me. We were both naked and my mom was really dumnbfounded. She hurriedly prompted me to put on my shorts and asked my friend to do the same and go home. I think no one in the neighborhood witnessed that incident. Just the three of us. My mom really got angry at me and I remember putting on my shorts and running away from home. I spent the remaining hours in the afternoon walking along the streets and trying to think of my actions. After that incident, things began getting clearer. I had questions figured out but I still had doubts about the real me. There was a part of me trying to erase and forget the fact that I did a homosexual act... I came back home as I knew my parents and brothers had been worried about me.

Pawning Pawned Phones

2007-06-26T23:21:00.000-07:00

If my memory serves me right, I have pawned my N70 cell phone four times in the past three weeks. I just can't help it. I always run dry of money. Whenever I lose, I just won't keep quiet and go home and probably try my luck next time. I always try to find a way to take my money back. I always tell myself, "I won't go home empty handed." But it's the other way around. Sometimes the table dealers and supervisors always remind the players to go home happy with some winnings or at least go home with some bills for their fare. The thing is always go home with exactly just my fare. That is about twenty pesos. When I pawned my phone last week, it was a disaster. I lost all the money and I had to keep it secret for a while from my boyfriend. When he found out, we made an agreement. He was gonna take it back but would not let me use it anymore. I had no money to take it back. I got so worried that I won't be able to take it back. Fortunately, my boyfriend was my hero. He paid for it and to avoid worsening my situation, he had the idea that we swap phones me using an old model that all pawnshops would surely turn down. He then gave me his old Nokia Phone. In the Philippines Nokia Phones are widely used by the majority of people. I really don't know why.

Now, I rarely text my friends and so do they. Most of the time, my phone is on and off. Perhaps they think that my phone is off or they think I pawned it. I was once told by an old woman gambler at the Casino that she pawned all her properties and business establishments in the past and unable to take them back. She advised me to avoid pawning anything to somehow control my gambling addiction. I am not yet determined to do so. I have been losing most of the time and I still haven't learned my lessons. I don't know what's next for me. Help me God!

There are times in our lives wherein we have to sacrifice the most precious things in our possession. I know this is hard to do, but we have to do it for the benefit of the most. Gamblers though start becoming selfish when hooked and keep losing....

2007-06-26T07:52:00.000-07:00

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Homesickness and Boredom

2007-06-26T07:07:00.000-07:00

"I'm bored." Jennifer replied as I asked her about how she felt tonight through MSN Messenger. She complained that she had been studying all day and she was just sick and tired of it. That reminded me of myself. I just can't stand boredom and I have to do something to make the time pass. No, you won't ask me to take a nap or just stay infront of my computer when there is nothing else to do. It's either I go out and meet my friends, go to the Casino, go the karaoke bar and feast on some bottles of beer. Well yeah, these could be some alternatives. But what if I don't have the money to enjoy myself? Definitely, I just have to stay at the office or at home and perhaps pity myself. Everytime I see myself in that situation, I can't wait for the next payday to arrive. Sometimes, I get the feeling that I am working for nothing. Sometimes, I have the money and most of the time, I don't. I just can't satisfy myself. Gambling has always been my favorite past time. There were times I had neglected and taken for granted my friends at the bowling place. Some of them already feel bad since I have not been showing up. I am losing my friends little by little. I also have the feeling that some of my family members particularly my sister is starting to begrudge me. I can't keep my words and promises. This is a serious disease I need some remedy with at the moment. I think the remedy is always there but I always turn my back on it.

Four months ago, I went back home and upon leaving for Manila, I told my parents that I would be back in April. We are in the last week of June but I am worried that I may not go home again at the end of this month, or perhaps next month. The main reason being is that I have no money to give my parents. What would my dad tell me again? He may start throwing me accusations that are hard to swallow. I miss my home but I am not yet ready to go home. I want to enjoy my leave application which I filed for next week but I have no money to do so. For now, I can cross my fingers that I win next weekend to turn the occurrence of worse to worst things in my life.

Smoking Kills, Yeah I know WTF!

2007-06-25T23:10:00.000-07:00

I came across one of Mark Twain's quotes or it could be somebody else's, "Quitting smoking is the easiest thing in the world, I know because I have done it a thousand times." I began smoking at the age of 15. I was a junior high school student then. You won't believe me. Prior to getting hooked to smoking, I once blatantly expressed to everyone, to all my classmates in our classes how I hated smoking. I would always say that smoking is like burning your hard earned money in ashes. That incident turned the table on me. A few months later, I began smoking. I started with just one stick a day, eventually two sticks a day, and eventually still, it became a bad habit of mine. At first, I just got so curious about it especially when I saw one of my close friends puffing out the smoke in circles. That was an amazement on my part and because I was caught vividly in awe, my friend offered me to give it a shot. I did, and that was the start of my flicking habit. Now, it is a vice which is really hard to break. Three years ago, smoking was always one of the topics I would happily discuss with my students. They would be delighted upon hearing that I would only smoke five cigars a day and wouldn't go beyond ten sticks. Then they would start comparing me to most Koreans who are addicted to smoking and who are classified as chain-smokers. All of them asked me to quit and my sure reply was to attempt to somehow taper off or go cold turkey. I got sick and tired of repeating the same lines to different students. The rest is, today I have totally gotten worse. Now, I could finish a pack of cigarettes in a day while I know the fact that my health is at the height of risk. I am getting older and not an achieved man. The shattering of my dreams is slowly falling into its place. I know I have to quit smoking as much as I also have to quit gambling. But unlike most Koreans who have one word and heed when they decide to quit at once, I am a Filipino who has a different set of principles. I know I have to quit because if I don't then I will die and I may not help my family anymore who depend so much on me. I am just so stupid- I can't can't just quit them.

The Cycle

2007-06-25T22:22:00.000-07:00

Work, sleep, gamble, sleep, work, gamble, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep, work, payday, gamble, gamble, gamble, sleep, work, sleep....

Some Old Filipino Traditions Are Fading Away

2007-06-25T01:28:00.000-07:00

The light rail transit coming from Quezon City to Makati Philippines, has been my best friend when commuting to work. Most of the time though, I take the bus for cheaper fares and when I need the time to slow down. Today, I got up late and I had to rush to work right after taking a meal at around 11:00 a.m.

It was almost past 12:30 p.m when I got on the train. Today I was unable to grab a copy of the free-daily journal because I had to rush to the platform. The train station is always crowded even at noon. Everytime I am on the train I can't avoid but look at the people around me. It gives me pleasure if there are sights of good lucking guys who look fresh and who exude a certain musculinity and stuff. My weakness-looking at good looking men and when they look back at me straight in the eyes. I usually blush or sweat profusely. I also find joy in looking at billboards and signages on the road while the train is in motion. I have my favorites, and it is a habit craving for them when the train is about to leave. On the train, I have noticed that there aren't a lot of gentlemen these days. In the past, men would lovely offer their seats to women, elder people and to the disabled. This we were taught many times in the elementary schools. Modernization indeed has its drawbacks. We don't see a lot of people doing that good-old practice. Well, I am also speaking for myself. Once I get my seat, the world is against me. I find it hypocritic to be offering a seat to women when deep inside me, I really want to sit. For older women though you can soften my ignorance. The train platforms have designated waiting and loading area for males and females and sometimes I can't understand why some women still have to squeeze themselves in the men's area. That thing I am not priviliged to have because men are not allowed to go the female area but females are allowed to go the men's area. Perhaps that is a strong indication that there are more females in the Philippines. One thing that pisses me off is when I see a woman looking at me while I am seated. It seems as if her eyes are telling me to stand up instead and she sits down because I am a man. Why would I care? First come first. I need comfort as they do. Well, it is the trend.

Well it is a trend. Things are constantly changing. These days not many children or younger people do the "pagmamano"(the extending of one's hand on an elder's forehead to show respect) anymore. Once, we always felt so proud of the Filipinos' culture and practices but not these days I guess.