Sawatdee Bangkok

OMG, I'm finally here!

I wish I can write a longer post but I'm just at this internet cafe that is swarmed by noisy kids. I'd postpone the writing for tomorrow at the office.

Lots of things happened during my trip. I lost 40 kgs at the airport and I'm nursing a nasty sore throat right now (I can hardly speak at all!)

(1) The scene from my window this morning, prominent are the Rama Bridge and some temple (I forgot it's name). (2) The Chao Phraya River, just a block from where I live. There are actually fishes in it! (3) The temple nearest my house. Majestic isn't it? But this is only a minor temple in a city where temples are practically in every corner.

(1) The facade of Siam Paragon, the largest mall in Bangkok. (2) The Skytrain in front of the mall's facade. (3) The ubiquitous "altar".

I'm bloody crazy over these hot pink cabs! Love it, love it, love it!

The dizzying MBK Center, a few blocks away from Siam Paragon. Almost similar to our Greenhills, mostly cheap stuff.

Paalam Muna Pilipinas

God this is it. I'm leaving tonight.

I finished packing yesterday morning. Surprise, surprise it only took me three hours to cram in everything I own in four bags. It's very comical how my possessions at this point is reduced to a couple of suitcases, a large bag of shoes and toiletries, and a backpack.

I spent the last three days with my sister, the person I'd probably miss most when I'm out of here. I couldn't thank her more than enough for being the strong person that she is, for the moral support and all. [And she had been my "banker" during all the days when I had nothing but one peso in my pocket.] My time with my sister in Manila is definitely the most profound period of our relationship. Having gone past our immature and selfish days, I've learned to listen more to her and understand her in the process.

Ate, salamat sa tanan. I'm going to miss you to death. I love you dear. (Do change the curtains, ok?)

To everybody else, bye for now. Thanks for the friendship.

See you soon!

Flat

Ok, enough camwhoring for now.

I finally got my visa last Wednesday. It was fairly easy and fast… of course if you compare it with getting a US visa.

And it's my last day at work today. Got everything settled more or less. I finished my last feature story, the one that brought me to Mindanao last week. I'm not very happy with the final output though, which is always what I say about anything I write anyway.

Last three days in Manila. I don't understand why I'm so ambivalent about leaving this city, my office, and my friends here. In fact, I'm completely vacillating about what I feel right now. I'm almost disengaged from the idea of making this huge transition. I'm sorry, I have no energy to analyze what's about to happen. Let's just say I'd try to surprise my self.

Does anybody understand what I'm saying? Because I honestly don't.

All right, I'd just proceed to the perfunctory farewell walk of any beauty pageant queen. Play dramatic music here.

I would like to thank the Miss Universe organization, especially Mr. Donald Trump for letting me keep the crown even if I gained a horrendous amount of weight. I do love the Mikimoto crown though and I hope I wouldn't have to pass it on to another Latina cunt's head. I would like to thank the Binibining Pilipinas Charities and Madam Araneta for all the ghastly gowns you provided me on my trip to Colombia. Mother Lily, I'm ready for my first pitu-pito movie. ABS-CBN, are you planning to do a remake of Kokak? I'm so psyched up for the role.

Where was I?

Anyhoot, I'm a mess right now. I'm totally numb. I know I should be feeling something. I'm waiting for some sense of excitement. I would even welcome dread.

Baboosh!

Such a Whore in Davao

Having wine with former colleagues at Peter's house.

The Iros (Bitches): Sharon and Thea.

The Guru: Grace at Blugre (tama ba spelling?).

Emancipated and Emaciated: With Sarah's family. Lookie, lookie, someone lost weight and looking pretty like hell! I'm so proud of yah. Work it!

With the Queen of It All:
Daisy with kids Kerwin and Kit, niece July (in yellow) and the Divine Mickay (in blue).

Thanks for the great time. Will miss you all.
Mwah!

"T'boli Princess" Terrorizes Davao

Lovely (former) officemates in Davao: Rosie, Yolly, Ela, Mitch, Jay, Chug.

The Princess of Lake Sebu, Koronadal, South Cotabato.

Back to Mindanao

Yahoo! First visit to Mindanao after one year and seven months. I couldn't be more thrilled.

I'm in Koronadal, South Cotabato today and tomorrow. I visited a school and interviewed a couple of students for a feature story I'm doing for the office. Here 's a shot from today's visit. Tomorrow I'd drop by majestic Lake Sebu to visit another school.

And then it would be a few days in Davao to see friends.

Pichur!

Coz I don't have the time to write...

My sister and I playing with (or in?) my Evangelista maleta.

The UP Maradjaw Karadjaw picnic (of course at UP). Charlo's cute son is wearing his dad's org shirt.

Daisy, Kim, and I last night at Old Spaghetti House

Dear M

So you have been sperminated, you horny cunt. I'm very surprised. No, make that crushed.

The first man came along and you open your legs to him. That would've not been bad per se but you were too hot to even care about the consequences. D and I even gave you lengthy and repeated lectures on safe sex. I swear I could've used my own dick to show you how to put on a condom. But of course you and that anorexic guy have nursing degrees so I thought you knew way better.

There, you'd be saddled with a fucking baby. I can already imagine how obese you'd become. Say goodbye to your arms and jaw line. Worse, from now on all you'd have to think about is how to buy its milk, diapers, and whatever those creatures need. You know very well they are very expensive. Forget about buying more sunglasses, face creams, and shoes, dear. It's sooooo downhill from here.

Say hello to the rest of your life then. Start by facing your mother now. However, knowing you, you'd fight your way through this.

I'm sorry I'm being savage right now. But you know I fucking love you. I'd be here, dear.

Exposure Daw!?

Kaloka.

My "review" of the Virgin Labfest appeared on Gibb's blog.

And last Tuesday a PR I wrote for the office was printed in the Manila Bulletin (but my name's not on it of course).

Yun lang (sabay pout).

The Familiy on Stage

As mentioned in a previous post, I watched a performance of the Virgin Labfest 3 last Friday. As one of the blogs that I check everyday, Gibbs Cadiz announced last week that he was giving away free tickets to the Labfest. The catch though is that anyone who avails it would have to write about the plays in his/her blog. I quickly emailed Gibbs (a million thanks to you) and a day later I met him outside the CCP for the set called Madradramang Pamilya.

First, I have no idea why I'm even daring to write a "review" of the plays we watched. I'm not a theater fanatic although I've seen quite a number of them back in college because the teacher required us to do so. Once I watched a play called Ming Ming in Davao, and that was the only time I watched theater on my own accord.

When I moved back to Manila I often wanted to watch the fare offered by the theater groups here. But always I find them too expensive or that they're always performed in some theater that were simply out of my way.

So when free tickets to the Labfest became available, and anyway the CCP is just an FX ride away from Diliman, I quickly grabbed the opportunity.

All of my comments here are definitely the most pedestrian things said about theater. I badly need enlightenment on these things so any comment is welcome.

The first piece, called Bagahe, was set mostly in the US and explored the relationship of a mother and her son, who were at odds over the Nanay's plan to bury her husband in the Philippines. The two characters were engaged in an endless argument, mainly showing clash of values between two people from different generations. The story's nothing new: the haughty son who made it big and now imposes on his equally impertinent mom. (It does not help that the performance of the actor portraying the son was robotic at best.) Several times I nearly dozed off. To keep me awake, I eavesdropped on my seatmates who were incessantly gasping over the long, gray hair of the actress.

The second piece Looking for Darna took a peek at the life of three generations of Filipinas (the lola, mom, and daughter) living in the US. The grandmother was fast slipping into dementia and she had recurring nightmares of her harrowing experience with rape during the war. The rebellious daughter, on the other hand, was undergoing some sexual awakening of her own and was raped (or was she?) by her boyfriend in the process. (Meanwhile, the mom shrieks the entire time.) Although they did not exactly know how their experiences mirror each other, the lola and the granddaughter (who each gave engaging performances, btw), created an extraordinary bond between them. I loved this piece over the others for its originality and inventiveness.

To cap the evening's lineup was a comedy titled Teroristang Labandera. This one is about a Filipino-Chinese family whose lives seem to be dominated by a chain-smoking labandera. It's like an inverted war of the classes, albeit rowdier, which was actually the best way to perk up the audience after a couple of relatively depressing pieces. I did not like all the squealing at first (add to that the fact that I don't like comedies to begin with). But I realized that the story's more about the materialism that gnaws the family. Ironically, their collective materialism served as their bond. However, the same was used by the labandera to take a firmer hold on them.

After several years, it was exciting to watch plays once again. I love the intimacy theater affords to the audience and the actors. I'm also thrilled about the outlandish stories that only theater dares to tell. I definitely want some more.

I Just Love Internet Cafes

I did the previous entry (and this current one) at the internet cafe a few steps outside our apartment. For the past hour or so, four people practically spewed out their private lives for the consumption of everybody in the cafe. Thanks to Yahoo messenger, Skype, and MSN!

One woman is berating her husband about his infidelity. A man is suspecting his girlfriend of seeing someone else. Another woman is asking some money from her Indian boyfriend. And another girl is crying over something I cannot comprehend (it's in Ilocano).

God, it's only 12 noon and I'm having my dose of soap opera. Lovely!

Proudly Pink

From months and months of storage, I pulled out my jacket from the lowest depths of my closet last night. I was about to leave for Malate for the gay pride celebration when the sky opened in torrents. The rain somehow spoiled the street party they set up in the corner of Nakpil and Orosa, as long lines of soaking gay men in all shapes and sizes elbowed their way towards the shut street. For thirty minutes I waited for Jaf outside the gate that blocked the intersection. Ducking under a virtually leafless tree, I was drenched in no time.

After meeting Jaf (with a friend in tow) at almost 1 a.m., we quickly headed to Bed only to be greeted by a queue that spilled all over the courtyard in front of the bar. The rain clearly dissuaded us from joining the line. So we jostled our way into the thick crowd that moved in all directions. The crowd by the way was a mind-blowing array of gorgeous (albeit damp) men.

We opted to move to nearby O instead. The doorman however told us that they're not allowing anyone inside anymore because the place was fully packed. We had to beg him to let us in, which proved to be successful. O, being the tiny bar that it is, was filled to the rafters. Go-go boys and drag queens were perched on ledges, with the party crowd worshipping them from below. We inched our way towards the bar, stepping on shoes and being groped from all directions in the process. The place seemed to pulsate as one dazed being. It did not help however that the place was fucking hot (the temperature I mean), the mirrors all over the bar were steaming.

More of Jaf's friends joined us inside O, thus the frenzy started. Japheth, excited about the 23 pounds he lost after religiously going to the gym the past months, quickly took off his shirt, and started gyrating with every person around him. A friend grabbed him and they started kissing, to the delight of the onlookers. You can always count on Jaf to give a good show. As the night progressed more twosomes were entwined in passionate revelry.

Me, the manang, sulked in a corner, chain-smoked, and planned my clothes for next week. Of course I also played the role of the requisite voyeur. The men are gorgeous in general so I was more than delighted.

Having been lost in my thoughts, Jaf dashed to me to report that he had french-kissed six guys so far. And we were barely two hours in the place. I can't be more proud of him. He quickly turned away and grabbed a hot stranger, flossed him using his tongue, and asked his name when they both ran out of breath. They danced for about fifteen minutes, said goodbye to each other, and Jaf hopped on to the next arms that would welcome him at least momentarily.

At around four, I witnessed way too much french-kissing and crotch-rubbing that I decided to call it a night. I left the bar and discovered that the party outside had no signs of ever waning. I can safely say that gay pride weekend is the biggest night in Malate every year. My "tribe" came in full force, perhaps until the sun goes up. But sunrise was two hours away. Instead what I saw was a round moon that gave the city a charming iridescence.