I was at Chicane over the weekend.
The set-up was fab and the music was just blarin’ with audiosonic banging assault enough to turn my ear deposits into, ew, melted cheese. The crowd was a cornucopia of pretty young things punctuated with lotsa muscles (yum!) and a feast of cleavages (to the delight of the hets).
But the sound system went off thrice—yupyupyup, 3x!—and it was just so phooey it ruined my momentum for the night. Not even a free drink from this cool bagets with his bevy of shiny, shimmery galpals (they all wore glittery garbs, they’re like, uhm, walking mirror balls) could rev me up again.
I was with Betty Suarez, my best gimik associate, and twas doubly unfortunate that this guy I like from work mistook Betty as my date. Aaarrrgh! I like this guy a lot--he's hot, neat, well-versed and I guess, a 'south' boy (ifyouknowhatimean...) and I heard that he's a recent 'convert' who traded his semi-celeb gf to plain ol' dick worshippin' (who'd blame him, ryt?!). I often get feelers from him (even trailed me by the john a couple of times), but that's it. It's either he's playing coy or just plain dense. Sigh. Make your move, man! MAKE YOUR FRIGGIN' MOVE!!!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Paunang Chorva
Foreword ng "Masculadoll"
(My third-born just came off the press, it'll hit the shelves of Powerbooks and National Bookstore by October. Hope you take time to leaf through it.)
GUSTO kong lumipad, pero dahil wala akong pakpak, natutunan ko na lamang magsulat sa hangin.
May kapangyarihang dala ang pagsusulat—parang bato ni Darna o kuryente ni Volta. Ang sisterellang si Zsazsa lumalaklak ng bato at sumisigaw ng “ZATURNNNAHHH!” samantalang ako nama’y humihigop ng mainit na kape, hahayaang mabanlian ang lalamunan at sabay hihiyaw ng “POTASHET! ANG INIT!!!” at saka pa lamang ako sasaniban ng kapangyarihang makapagsulat.
Malaking pakikipagsapalaran ang magsulat—para kang nagbubuntis ng ideya—kukupkupin mo ito sa sulok ng iyong katwiran, patatabain sa dulo ng kawalan at pahihinugin sa gitna ng gunita. Pero dadating ang sandali na kakatayin mo ang bawat hibla at saka ilalatag ang mga ito sa papel. Pagkatapos, isa-isa mo silang pakakawalan—hanggang sa may dapuan.
Madalas makiliti, mapuwing, o ma-praning ang mga dinadapuan ng mga sinulat ko. Salamat na lamang at tinangkilik ng mga vhaklers ang panganay ko, ang Brusko Pink, King Kong Barbies & Other Queer Files, pati na ang Baklese, isama mo na rin ang dati kong column sa The Manila Bulletin at pabugso-bugsong by-line sa The Philippine Star.
Ito ang unang paglalayag kong sumulat sa Filipino. Mabuti naman at napaunlakan ako ng pagkakataong tumugon sa hiling ng mga mambabasang humihirit na “Tagalog naman, sis…”
Naiiba ang Masculadoll dahil humigop ang bawat salita ng, anopangaba, kundi mga misteryong nakaipit sa langit ng alaala. Kadalasa’y maaanghang ang mga salita, pero malimit ding may tamis, kurot, pait (at minsa’s poot) sa gitna ng mga pahina. Ibinabad ang mga pangungusap sa kakaibang panlasa, binudburan ng samu’tsaring buhay bading na di buking at saka inihain sa buong kashoklaan.
Importante sa akin na sumungkit ng mga ideya, kanlungin ang mga ito sa aking imaginary bahay-bata, ibuhol ang tatlo kong fallopian tubes na parang ribbon at saka ialay sa hangin. Fly galore ang drama.
Ayokong ikulong ang mga sinulat ko. Bad yun.
May buhay ang mga salita at alam ko—kapag ikinulong ko lamang sila sa aking sinapupunan, pilit silang sisigaw papalabas at guguhit sa hangin. Kukunot ang noo mo, dahil di mo man sila mabasa, may amoy ang kanilang kaluluwa.
(My third-born just came off the press, it'll hit the shelves of Powerbooks and National Bookstore by October. Hope you take time to leaf through it.)
GUSTO kong lumipad, pero dahil wala akong pakpak, natutunan ko na lamang magsulat sa hangin.
May kapangyarihang dala ang pagsusulat—parang bato ni Darna o kuryente ni Volta. Ang sisterellang si Zsazsa lumalaklak ng bato at sumisigaw ng “ZATURNNNAHHH!” samantalang ako nama’y humihigop ng mainit na kape, hahayaang mabanlian ang lalamunan at sabay hihiyaw ng “POTASHET! ANG INIT!!!” at saka pa lamang ako sasaniban ng kapangyarihang makapagsulat.
Malaking pakikipagsapalaran ang magsulat—para kang nagbubuntis ng ideya—kukupkupin mo ito sa sulok ng iyong katwiran, patatabain sa dulo ng kawalan at pahihinugin sa gitna ng gunita. Pero dadating ang sandali na kakatayin mo ang bawat hibla at saka ilalatag ang mga ito sa papel. Pagkatapos, isa-isa mo silang pakakawalan—hanggang sa may dapuan.
Madalas makiliti, mapuwing, o ma-praning ang mga dinadapuan ng mga sinulat ko. Salamat na lamang at tinangkilik ng mga vhaklers ang panganay ko, ang Brusko Pink, King Kong Barbies & Other Queer Files, pati na ang Baklese, isama mo na rin ang dati kong column sa The Manila Bulletin at pabugso-bugsong by-line sa The Philippine Star.
Ito ang unang paglalayag kong sumulat sa Filipino. Mabuti naman at napaunlakan ako ng pagkakataong tumugon sa hiling ng mga mambabasang humihirit na “Tagalog naman, sis…”
Naiiba ang Masculadoll dahil humigop ang bawat salita ng, anopangaba, kundi mga misteryong nakaipit sa langit ng alaala. Kadalasa’y maaanghang ang mga salita, pero malimit ding may tamis, kurot, pait (at minsa’s poot) sa gitna ng mga pahina. Ibinabad ang mga pangungusap sa kakaibang panlasa, binudburan ng samu’tsaring buhay bading na di buking at saka inihain sa buong kashoklaan.
Importante sa akin na sumungkit ng mga ideya, kanlungin ang mga ito sa aking imaginary bahay-bata, ibuhol ang tatlo kong fallopian tubes na parang ribbon at saka ialay sa hangin. Fly galore ang drama.
Ayokong ikulong ang mga sinulat ko. Bad yun.
May buhay ang mga salita at alam ko—kapag ikinulong ko lamang sila sa aking sinapupunan, pilit silang sisigaw papalabas at guguhit sa hangin. Kukunot ang noo mo, dahil di mo man sila mabasa, may amoy ang kanilang kaluluwa.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Not-so-merry-go-round
I dunno know which one it is. On one hand, I’d like to sulk to the skin of my teeth, go invisible, give the world the finger and simply file everything under ‘Shit.’ On the other hand, I’d like to put on a victor's face, paint a yehey smile that would make my cheeks burst and just throw confetti at anybody who would come my way.
My Almost Boyfriend broke up with his beau. I'm mixed up with my own reaction. I never had a closure with Almost Boyfriend, and the last time that we chat up was when we were both stashed up with alcohol putting up a tally of our what-if’s and should-have-been’s. Words flew on midair amidst a sea of dancing strangers, they were drowned in the medley of prying conversations and din of loud music. “What happened to us?” “We almost had it…” and “We don’t have a choice, we are now part of each other’s lives…”
Words, words, words.
Though all the romantic babble was ‘under the influence,’ we never doubted each one’s contention for we both believed that it is when one is drunk that feelings and words navigate at its most unadulterated. The spirit brought the integrity of our convictions…and regrets. He was committed, and I was loving my freedon. We've decided to be special to each other. Nothing more.
Then last Saturday at the gym, the beau approached me and heralded the news. “We broke up yesterday…I was tryin’ to save it, but…” I was never close to him, and it’s an understatement that methinks he abhors me. I can only give the same. But at that instance, it was different and it was difficult. It takes courage and a lot of resolve to swallow the bitter pill and display vulnerability to a known ‘enemy.’ Especially to a known ‘enemy.’ But there he was torn to smithereens putting his battered cards on the table. “…but he has fallen out of love and there’s another guy…”
The usual me would offer Ben Gay to his wounds, probably even unleash a tapestry of sarcastic innuendos, but no, I kept my silence and listened. I was not myself, I sympathized.
I’m a walking oxymoron—I know how it feels, yet I don’t know what to feel.
My Almost Boyfriend broke up with his beau. I'm mixed up with my own reaction. I never had a closure with Almost Boyfriend, and the last time that we chat up was when we were both stashed up with alcohol putting up a tally of our what-if’s and should-have-been’s. Words flew on midair amidst a sea of dancing strangers, they were drowned in the medley of prying conversations and din of loud music. “What happened to us?” “We almost had it…” and “We don’t have a choice, we are now part of each other’s lives…”
Words, words, words.
Though all the romantic babble was ‘under the influence,’ we never doubted each one’s contention for we both believed that it is when one is drunk that feelings and words navigate at its most unadulterated. The spirit brought the integrity of our convictions…and regrets. He was committed, and I was loving my freedon. We've decided to be special to each other. Nothing more.
Then last Saturday at the gym, the beau approached me and heralded the news. “We broke up yesterday…I was tryin’ to save it, but…” I was never close to him, and it’s an understatement that methinks he abhors me. I can only give the same. But at that instance, it was different and it was difficult. It takes courage and a lot of resolve to swallow the bitter pill and display vulnerability to a known ‘enemy.’ Especially to a known ‘enemy.’ But there he was torn to smithereens putting his battered cards on the table. “…but he has fallen out of love and there’s another guy…”
The usual me would offer Ben Gay to his wounds, probably even unleash a tapestry of sarcastic innuendos, but no, I kept my silence and listened. I was not myself, I sympathized.
I’m a walking oxymoron—I know how it feels, yet I don’t know what to feel.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Kumbersasyon 3
.
FACT: The web is reeking with dungs of this earth and you should never trust your judgment--even if the guy on the other end of the connection is, seemingly, okay. There I was, last weekend, having a finger blast online tryin' to shop for a quickie hookup. Enter this guy, D, who've been wooing Brusko Pink for the looongest time. He seemed nice--articulate, fairly good-looking and, uhm, hung (or so he claims). Too good to be true? I bet 'ya. Cut the chase--we agreed to meet up over the weekend. MORAL LESSON: Never leave your chances to the Mother Cruise Ship or Sister Fate would just throw you onto another deadlock of a pit. Hay.
D: "Ah, so you’re Louie. You look exactly like your picture, though I’ve imagined you to be a bit taller, but no worries. You ran a little late, but that’s okay. Ten minutes is all right, but I’d be a little worried if its twenty or thirty minutes. So how’s your day? Mine’s nothing different from my usual day, routine stuff. Kinda toxic in the office, my boss is practically heaving on my neck! Haha! But it’s okay, I always log in the net just to keep my sanity! So what do you do?! Ako, I’m executive assistant in a PR company. We are working on so many campaigns right now. Grabeh! Toxic talaga! Where do you work out? Me, I don’t work out. Halata ba? Mataba ba ba ako? You think I need to workout na? San ka gumigimik pag weekend? Ako sa bahay lang. Iusuallyreadlangorstayina loungebardon’tlikeclubbing.Doyoudanceba? Yadayadayada. Doyouworkout?Ha?Blahblahblah.Sankanaggigym?!Bakitangtahimikmo?Ha?HA?!"
L: "Uhm, bye."
FACT: The web is reeking with dungs of this earth and you should never trust your judgment--even if the guy on the other end of the connection is, seemingly, okay. There I was, last weekend, having a finger blast online tryin' to shop for a quickie hookup. Enter this guy, D, who've been wooing Brusko Pink for the looongest time. He seemed nice--articulate, fairly good-looking and, uhm, hung (or so he claims). Too good to be true? I bet 'ya. Cut the chase--we agreed to meet up over the weekend. MORAL LESSON: Never leave your chances to the Mother Cruise Ship or Sister Fate would just throw you onto another deadlock of a pit. Hay.
D: "Ah, so you’re Louie. You look exactly like your picture, though I’ve imagined you to be a bit taller, but no worries. You ran a little late, but that’s okay. Ten minutes is all right, but I’d be a little worried if its twenty or thirty minutes. So how’s your day? Mine’s nothing different from my usual day, routine stuff. Kinda toxic in the office, my boss is practically heaving on my neck! Haha! But it’s okay, I always log in the net just to keep my sanity! So what do you do?! Ako, I’m executive assistant in a PR company. We are working on so many campaigns right now. Grabeh! Toxic talaga! Where do you work out? Me, I don’t work out. Halata ba? Mataba ba ba ako? You think I need to workout na? San ka gumigimik pag weekend? Ako sa bahay lang. Iusuallyreadlangorstayina loungebardon’tlikeclubbing.Doyoudanceba? Yadayadayada. Doyouworkout?Ha?Blahblahblah.Sankanaggigym?!Bakitangtahimikmo?Ha?HA?!"
L: "Uhm, bye."
Friday, September 12, 2008
Kumbersasyon 2
X: May nangyari raw sa inyo ni Paco…
L: Uhm, oo.
X: E, sa inyo ni Mike?
L: Oo.
X: Si Stephen din daw.
L: Yeah.
X: Sa inyo ni Abet?
L: Oo.
X: Joey?
L: Oo rin.
X: Si Jason?
L: Slight.
X: Si Dennis?
L: Medyo.
X: Pucha, lahat na lang natikman ka na, alam na ng buong Malate kung ano lasa ng b*rat mo! Bakit ako hindi?!
L: Uhm…
X: Magpapaka-pokpok ka rin lang di mo pa ko sinama sa listahan mo. Bakit ako, bakit sa akin hindi?!
L: Ikaw kasi ang mahal ko…
L: Uhm, oo.
X: E, sa inyo ni Mike?
L: Oo.
X: Si Stephen din daw.
L: Yeah.
X: Sa inyo ni Abet?
L: Oo.
X: Joey?
L: Oo rin.
X: Si Jason?
L: Slight.
X: Si Dennis?
L: Medyo.
X: Pucha, lahat na lang natikman ka na, alam na ng buong Malate kung ano lasa ng b*rat mo! Bakit ako hindi?!
L: Uhm…
X: Magpapaka-pokpok ka rin lang di mo pa ko sinama sa listahan mo. Bakit ako, bakit sa akin hindi?!
L: Ikaw kasi ang mahal ko…
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Kumbersasyon 1
L: “A-ayoko n’yan, h-hindi ako kumakain n’yan…” umiiling ako, halos pinid ang mga labi sa pagsasalita.
M: “Trymohlang…” malagkit ang mga salita, magkakadikit, may pang-aakit.
L: “H-hindi talaga e…”
M: “Try mo…sandali lang…” nagsusumamo, nakikiusap.
L: “Di talaga e…”
M: “Magugustuhan mo ‘yan, sige na…try mo…” bumubulong sa hamog ng hangin ang mga kataga, basa na ang mga letra…”Sige na…”
L: “LECHE NAMAN E! Isuot mo na nga ‘yang panty mo! Sabi nang ayoko n’yan eh!”
M: “Trymohlang…” malagkit ang mga salita, magkakadikit, may pang-aakit.
L: “H-hindi talaga e…”
M: “Try mo…sandali lang…” nagsusumamo, nakikiusap.
L: “Di talaga e…”
M: “Magugustuhan mo ‘yan, sige na…try mo…” bumubulong sa hamog ng hangin ang mga kataga, basa na ang mga letra…”Sige na…”
L: “LECHE NAMAN E! Isuot mo na nga ‘yang panty mo! Sabi nang ayoko n’yan eh!”
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