Biking Around Ancient City

Sigh, I'm so not in the mood to write anything now. I don't have any good material to write about, except perhaps the latest men's shows in Milan and Paris, but I don't know where to start on that. All I have are heaps of pictures that I snatched from Livejournal.

Oh well. It's the last day of June. In a month's time I'm officially on my second year in BangCock. Who'd have known it had been 24 months ago since the bayot stepped for the first time in the City of Angels.

Anyway, I might as well post a half-hearted weekend report. Lots of booze, dancing, cigarettes, shopping, and biking.

Let me talk about the biking part coz I have a few pictures to share. I went to Ancient City last Sunday with my French friends. We ended up as a party of thirteen biking around the ponds of Ancient City. I had very little expectations of the place so I was quite pleasantly surprised how charming it really was, although I would not say it was groundbreaking either.

Simply put, it's a piece of land where all the major architectural landmarks of Thailand can be seen (akin to the Nayong Pilipino in Manila), although many of the structures are approximately of the same size as the original. Some are reproductions but several are the original structures and reconstructed in the site.

It was a fun afternoon of biking galore and chit chat, ending up with dinner in a lovely sea-side restaurant.


Oh, here's a picture of the view from my window last night. I love the wet weather!

Dear Diary

As mentioned in this post, I managed to unearth some old journals I left in Surigao and Manila. Since I arrived back to BangCock I've been reading through them and had been continuously fascinated at how much I discover about myself when I was 14, 17, and so on.

I even ended most of my entries with a prayer to my guardian angel or something and that kept my eyes rolling as I went through the entries.

One particular journal stood out from the bunch though. Written within a span of nearly two and a half years (the first entry was in 2001 and the last was 2003), it covers my post-university days, particularly when I moved to Davao and then when I lived between Cebu and Surigao.

The first part mainly recorded my initial attempt at job-hunting. These were long, idle months, hence, I had the time to write about all the most mundane stuff on earth. And then I eventually found a job, explaining why there was a six-month gap in the entries.

I resumed writing in the journal when I had my first brush with, ehem, love. *Insert "Psycho" music here.* Well, particularly when I was heart-broken, which I touched on in this and this entries. Now this is where things became a bit more cringe-inducing when I read the entries a few days back.

I was YMing with a retired blogger (you know who you are!) about my reaction to the old entries and I told him that the main, BIG realization is: "Damn, the bayot has not changed!".

I was supposed to post here some lines from the journal to prove my point, but I digress. It's revealing way, way too much. I don't want to go into the details either.

Simply put, I could've written the exact entries down to the last word to describe how I felt a year ago, the last time I grieved over losing someone. *Insert "Jaws" music here.* I could even say the same thing for all the three times that I had my heart broken. Now that's a span of like six years, but my style is sooo last, last, last, last season it might as well be vintage. Sigh.

I also happen to have in my hands right now my old love letters with the second guy who broke my heart, and I also have my hidden blog to record the third instance. *Wince, wince, wince while rolling on the floor.* Ok, given these records, I tried to assess my relationship pattern.

And so when I was YMing with Retired Blogger (my personal process queen), I said that there seems to be a trend in my "relationships" (I could not help but put the quotation marks), or at least how they ended.

Without going into specifics, consistently it appears that they're a compendium of me being taken for granted by these men, or not being loved in return, or me not being in their priority list.

Always, and I mean ALWAYS, I just walk away without fuss, knowing very well that I cannot push my self down other people's throat. Begging is definitely out of the question. And well, the post-break-up part is a major story of its own (which I shall write about in the future. That too has a clear pattern.)

I'm curious if indeed it's very difficult to break relationship habits. I haven't talked to that many gay men about their relationship patterns, but I wonder what theirs would be if ever they have one. Or do they even bother to examine their past?

I just happen to obsessively document things, hence, I have something to look back to. But still for most people it would not require a found journal or a secret blog to plot their patterns. Why don't you tell me about yours?

Street-Style Inspirations

Among the many blogs I check everyday (and only God knows how numerous that exactly is), I always look forward to checking the street-style blogs for a dash of fashion inspiration.

It's amazing how many street-style blogs are there and most big cities have at least one key street-style blogger, i.e. The Sartorialist for NYC (at least initially) as well as in Berlin, Oslo, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, London, etc.

Sometimes I feel that there are distinct looks for each city but the more I check the sites, it appears that the styles vary way too much for a certain look to be exclusively called as Tokyo, Paris, or Barcelona. I've had this kind of discussion with Fuchsiaboy about a year ago and I'd expound on that in a later post.

But for the meantime, let me share to you yet again some of my street-style inspirations. I've amassed a number of photos from various websites (some of them I forgot to note) so I had to edit this collection of photos very carefully.

I also check the street-style photos featuring women. But for this blog, I only choose to share men's photos coz they serve as inspirations for my own style as well. I wish I can be as brazen as the guys below but I'm pushing my self a bit more one step at a time.

The pictuers with the small icon on the bottom-right are from this uber cool site called Street Peeper, while I indicate at the bottom of the pics the source of the rest (if I still happen to remember them).

(from Tokyo in Style Arena)

(from Melbourne)


(from Tokyo)

(from Paris)

(from Paris)

(from Paris)

(from Melbourne)

(from London)

(from Tokyo)

(from Tokyo)

(from Just Glitter)

Aside from the clothes they're wearing, lately I've also been fascinated with hair, such as the couple of pictures below from one of my favorite street-style bloggers, Garance Dore. I think I got the last picture from Trendy Crew. I wonder if it's time for me grow back my hair.

(he is NOT Fuchsiaboy!!!)

Quote du Jour: Living la Vida Fuchsia

"I am a way of life,
a philosophy,
a metaphor,
a concept."

-- Don Protasio aka Fuchsiaboy (who is currently sauntering around the streets of Bangkok)

Shelf Life: Pangatlong Paglaladlad

On my recent trip to Las Islas Filipinas I finally snagged a copy of Ladlad 3: An Anthology of Philippine Gay Writing (2007, Anvil) edited by J. Neil Garcia and Danton Remoto (see Danton's blog here). The term ladlad connotes shedding off something, to disrobe, or also to unravel, hence, in Filipino gay-speak it is commonly associated with coming out.

The first Ladlad was published in 1994, followed by a second installment in 1996. I remember furtively requesting for the first two editions of Ladlad at the Filipiniana section of UP's Main Library. And then I'd look for the most remote desk in the reading area while regularly searching the crowd around me for any familiar face.

Anyway, I could not remember most of the entries in the first two Ladlad editions but overall I was struck by how assertive the authors are about their homosexuality. Many of them reflect the resistance of gay men against the prevalent macho culture. Others seem to provoke, while also a number celebrate their "gayness". In other words, Ladlad then were very political, if not activist.

Whereas the first two Ladlad were firm in dispelling stereotypes and were determined to create an alternative popular image of gay men, the recent edition is more introspective. If the third Ladlad book indicates anything, it appears that there is a shift in the attitudes of Filipino gay men, mainly a move towards a sense of confidence.

Ladlad 3 is therefore more about individuals who happen to be gay... but they are also sons, friends, lovers, or colleagues.

In the short story section for instance, M. Protacio de Guzman's Epiphany goes into the mind of a man mulling over what he thought was a lackluster relationship, whereas J. Neil Garcia's Kitty and Vergil is about the quirky relationship of gay men and their fag hags, and Ino Manalo's Pakiramdam (Intuition) describes one man's dilemma on introducing to his family his lover of eight years.

If there's one obvious politically-oriented short story, that has to be Giyera (War). Honorio Bartolome de Dios tells us the story of a local beautician, Bernie, who is part of an underground, guerrilla movement. But then, Bernie is a rebel against a political and economic system that takes advantage of a community and he just happens to be gay.

This "they just happen to be gay" theme is also carried over in the second half, the poetry section. Many of the poems do not have an "obviously gay" voice or at least are sexually ambiguous.

In as much as I'm not a big fan of poetry per se, I liked more pieces in this section than among the short stories, to be quite honest. Some of the standouts for me are Ronald Baytan's Distance and La Puta del Mundo, Carlomar Arcangel Daoana's The Long History of Kissing Boys, Nestor de Guzman's Sa Kapisan, Ralph Semino Galan's Your Name, and Remoto's The Ring.

A number of poems poignantly touches on the relationship of gay sons and their parents. Christopher Cahilig's Sa Inyong Kaarawan, Itay (On Your Birthday, Dad), Eugene Evasco's Hardinero (Gardener), Alex Gregorio's Sad Movie, and Roel Hoang Manipon's Irreconcilable Differences should resonate with many gay men raised in a paternalistic society.

So while Ladlad 3 veers from its two more militant predecessors, it does not completely depart from making statements on the more fundamental issues confronted by gay Filipinos. Perhaps the book reflects how the "gay movement" has evolved to encompass the different realities of being a homosexual in contemporary times. Also, perhaps it is a testament of the success of the strong advocacy of the "gay movement" which has somehow ameliorated the largely homophobic stance of the society, hence there is no pressing need to be overtly political either.

Foiled it may have been, the attention - and to a certain extent, support - that Ang Ladlad received in its unsuccessful bid to run as one of the party list representatives in the last elections (was that 2006?) nonetheless shows how the gay movement is inching its way towards wider acceptance. Now Danton is even resolute in running for the Senate in 2010, and that is definitely something all gay Filipinos need to fully support.

To finish this post, I shall include here my favorite poem in the book and perhaps this also sums up everything that Ladlad 3 is all about.

(This is obviously a copyright infringement as I did not ask permission from the authors and publishers. Paumanhin po.)

Bago ang Bading
(Pasintabi kay Rebecca T. Anonuevo)

by Ralph Semino Galan

Mabuti nalang at sa panahong ito ako
Ipinanganak na bading.
Hindi ko na kailangang tumili o tumalak
Para marinig ang aking voice.
Hindi ko kailangang magdamit babae
Kung hindi ko carry,
O umastang machong lalaki
Kung feel kong magpa-girl
Sa bahay man o opisina.
Hindi ko kailangang magpahaba ng hair
O manggupit ng hair para mabuhay.
Hindi ko kailangang magpakasal
Sa mujer na hindi ko mahal
Para maging respectable ako sa madla.
Hindi ko kailangang ipilit ang sarili
Sa straight na mhin na ayaw sa akin.
Hindi ko kailangang magpa-cut ng notes
O magpadagdag ng boobs
Para makumpleto ang aking pagkatao.
Hindi ko kailangang i-forget
Na isa akong tao
Bago isang bading.

* From Ladlad 3: An Anthology of Philippine Gay Writing, Edited by J. Neil C. Garcia and Danton Remoto. Anvil Publishing, 2007.

Shelf Life: Some Cats and Tigers

*** Gurls, thanks a lot for all the support you've been showing Bubbles these past days. It's delightful that many of you find him as an inspiration to bring your Body Mass Index to 18 (when we all know it should be at least 16, chai mai?).

I'm expecting more personal weight-loss miracle stories from you, my sweethearts! Now move, it's time to start werqing. ***

OK, enough of this weight talk coz we all know once I start yakking about weight it's hard for me to not go on and on and on.

Let's talk about not so campiness stuff for a change.

It's review time!

Let's start with movies, shall we?

I had the chance to watch in DVD two German films, and coincidentally they both feature the lives people lead before and after the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Goodbye Lenin (2003) is a comedy about how a son (Alex) protects his mother (Christiane), who just came out from a coma, from further fatal shock. Christiane is a hardliner of the GDR so Alex intricately recreates for her the world of the recently-dismantled East Germany.

Goodbye Lenin is a heart-warming and tender film that weaves family, its secrets, and its truths at a time when monumental change sweeps through a country. It is also a satire of political bravura and the hard blows it receives when history makes a drastic turn.

Meanwhile, The Lives of Others (2006) is set five years before the downfall of the GDR when the Stasi, the omniscient secret police, was closely watching political dissidents. One of the organization's best men, Hauptmann Gerd Wiesler, was tasked to head an operation that would monitor a famous writer and his actress-girlfriend.

While Wiesler zealously takes on the job, he is caught by the lives of the people he watches over, from their petty fights, to their passionate lovemaking, and to their tender moments. The usually staid and detached Wiesler, played to perfection by Ulrich Muhe, soon discovers a whole new layer to the couple's relationship and he is suddenly confronted with the dilemma to exercise his power to both hide and reveal the truth.

As a political drama, The Lives of Others, is a genius of a film that explores the place of our humanity and morality in the midst of boundless power.

Ok, two recent reads I recommend...

First is The White Tiger (2008) by Aravind Adiga, which is a rather amusing confession to murder by a Bangalore cab driver. Told as a narration directed to China's premiere, Wen Jiabao, the novel recounts one man's fall from grace as a consequence of the injustices he faces in modern Indian society.

Never before in human history have so few owed so much to so many, Mr Jiabao. A handful of men in this country have trained the remaining 99.9 percent - as strong, as talented, as intelligent in every way - to exist in perpetual servitude; a servitude so strong that you can put the key of his emancipation in a man's hands and he will throw it back at you with a curse.

Around a month ago, I also read my first Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore. Because of the author's popularity, I've always wondered what makes him damn coveted and why his work occupy substantial shelf-space in bookstores, ha. Well judging on this book at least, I think I know why... Murakami is kick-ass bizarre (in a good way of course).

I still don't know how to describe the plot, but essentially we meet in the book a bevy of characters - the boy who ran away from home, a wandering man who talks to cats, a mysterious head librarian, and her transvestite of an assistant - crossing paths at some point or another.

The book is enthralling and requires readers to just ride along the author's unbridled imagination. It's really a good introduction to Murakami, which would keep you wanting for more.

You're afraid of imagination. And even more afraid of dreams. Afraid of the responsibility that begins in dreams. But you have to sleep, and dreams are part of sleep. When you're awake you can supress imagination. But you can't suppress dreams.

Bubbles is a Loser

On the occasion of Las Islas Filipinas' Independence Day, I'm going to write about someone who has recently been freed from the shackles and oppression of... obesity.

Ok, ok, maybe he is not technically obese, but he is at the very least voluptuous, chunky, bulky, fleshy, hefty, plump, rotund, and so on.

I'm talking about no one else but my dear ferosha amiga, Bubbles.

We all know that one of his favorite activities, aside from the sleazy kind (joke!), is eating. And he EATS with capital letters. Add to that his passionate love affair with Coke and Pepsi. He can gulp 1.5 liters of those in two hours AT MOST.

You've seen Bubbles' pictures hog a sizeable space in this blog (pun intended), but still let's walk down memory lane shall we?

This is a photo of Bubbles in Koh Samet in December last year, just around the height of his hefty days.

One day in December, he experienced some ejection *edit: rejection* in a place where men wear only tiny towels. That pretty much was the impetus for him to overhaul his eating habits and to exercise.

Bubbles practically lived in the gym. He stays there for three hours every day that God makes, rain or shine, amidst the chaos of political riots, and the revelry of the Buddhist New Year.

Soon enough, Bubbles started shedding off the pounds. Notice in the picture below, taken in Februrary, that he lost a bit of the belly and his cheekbones were coming out. But we all know he needs to work harder, di ba?

I still don't see any neck in this picture and the nipples are way too distracting. Utong much?

Bubbles maintained his single-minded pursuit to lose weight. He broke up with his lovers Pepsi and Coke, and swore off evil carbohydrates for good. Weekly he would report to us that he lost a pound or two and we were always happy to hear such good news especially after seeing his determination to change his lifestyle.

I haven't seen Bubbles in about a month and last night he showed up in his new, lithe, sleek look.

I cried. Fine, I didn't, but I nearly did.

So without further talak, ladies and gentlemen, I now present, Bubbles V 2.0.

Bubbles sans utong, sans tummy. THAT definitely is a neck I see there.

Say hi to them clavicles, girls.

Priceless! Freaking 25 lbs off in six months, bitches! Beat that.

I couldn't be more proud!

Now everyone, please send your kisses to Bubbles.

When Billy Met Tony

One of my favorite movies EVAH is Billy Elliot (2000), a story of a young boy in a small mining town in England with a strong passion for dancing.

Set in the 1980s amidst the strike of the town's mine workers, Billy hides from his dad that he has been taking ballet lessons. At the same time, he witnesses his family disintegrate as a consequence of the strike.

Jamie Bell, playing as Billy Elliot, and Julie Walters, playing Billy's ballet teacher, give spectacular performances in this heartwarming movie that I've never gotten bored of watching for perhaps half a dozen times now.

Recently, Billy Elliot the Musical won Best Musical at the Tony Awards. Also, for the first time in Tony history, three individuals took the Best Actor in a Musical trophy, which was awarded to the stars of Billy Elliot: David Alvarex, Trent Kowalik, and Kirl Kulish.

Below is a video of Trent Kowalik performing at the 2009 Tony Awards followed by the acceptance speech of the three kids, who all looked totally dumbfounded after they were called winners of what is perhaps the most prestigious award for stage actors.

Because the Baby is Now a...

Look what I found in the family albums in Surigao?

I have no idea how old I was when the photo below was taken. I couldn't have been more than one year old then, no? I hate my sister for out-pouting me here. And look how obese I was, I could not even see my clavicles. Gasp!

But really, this is one of my super favorite baby pictures of my self.

Next picture... Now look who's werqing the cam, bitches. I know I was born a diva and I'm not accepting objections from you, ha!

I must be around three here, no?

Don't you just adore the hair? Ricky Reyes isdatchyu? Farah Fawcett isdatchyu? And the legs, dahling. I cannot be more gay at three years old, chai mai? Somebody started soooo young it seems.

Next picture... is that a king or a queen right there? I could be between four and five years old in this photo. I remember I was in nursery school then and I volunteered to be the king in the school pageant.

I swear even back then I'd do anything to wear couture. Alexander McQueen isdatchyu? Christian Lacroix isdatchyu?

Honey, see how I perfected the art of modelling that early? Notice the elongated neck. Check the jutted jaw. And the signature pout of course!

I know! Like I define FIERCE even as a baby.

And now, my rebith as...

Senora Magdalena Sotomayor viuda de Putin

(Thank you Joyce for letting me wear your wig in Davao.)

Now that explains why I cannot be a drag queen.

Ang Kaganapan Sa NAIA... Isang Pagbubunyag

Miss Aruba: teka, i read ur post. anong ginawa sa iyo ng immigration people?
kawadjan: pinagpasa-pasahan ako ng mga taga immigration. they gang raped my puri! mga hayop sila... hayuuuuuuupppp... huhuhuhu
Miss Aruba: hay, i hope nag condom sila ha
kawadjan: kase nga ayokong kumuha nung sa POEA chervalu. so derecho lang ako sa immigration. i thought kase kung sa inter-govt org ka eh di na kailangan ng POEA, like i only need to pay the travel tax.
Miss Aruba: honey, di rin ako dumadaan sa POEA chorva. i always tell them, I DONT LIKE POEA
kawadjan: so confused ang immigration when i told them i work for an IGO. hinahanapan pa ako ng kung anek anek na ID. wala kaming ID, di namin cultura ang mag ID coz we trust the people in the office. so pina-go pa ako sa OWWA, na may office sa labas ng airport.
Miss Aruba: josme
kawadjan: tapos pagpunta doon yung humarap sa akin eh same questions na naman. i told them i have an official/diplomatic visa in thailand, i dont need OWWA. i can take care of my own WELFARE.
Miss Aruba: u have a thai visa! anong problema nila!
Miss Aruba: my gawd, sana tinalakan mo sila. i hope tinalakan mo sila!
Miss Aruba: (i hope naka couture ka ha while all these things were happening)
kawadjan: kawadjan: i was wearing a jersey shirt. choz. di na, nagtimpi na lang ako.
Miss Aruba: ok, fine, keri na ang fashion mo that day
kawadjan: tapos tumawag pa sa kanyang supervisor ang tao sa OWWA. mega deliberate sila sa aking case. as in clueless si manong na nasa front desk.
kawadjan: habang may isang empleyado having lunch doon sa desk. he is eating tinolang isda na sinabao nya sa rice. ang langsa!!! like, you should not eat in front of clients, di ba? we know that. ditto for the airport in surigao, may kumakain ng piniritong isda sa may x-ray machine.
kawadjan: tapos in the end sabi ng tao sa OWWA eh i just need to pay the travel tax and no need to apply for OFW ID.
Miss Aruba: abosulutely!
kawadjan: tapos di ko mahanap-hanap ang punyetang desk where i pay the travel tax. kase naman nilagay sa likod.
Miss Aruba: hehe yes nasa likod sila. para silang factory dun. assembly line.
kawadjan: imagine, when i paid the travel tax, apat na tao ang kailangang mag process ng payment ko. isa ang tatanggap ng passport at gagawa ng resibo. isa ang mag staple ng resibo. tapos lipat ka na naman ng table para isulat ng ang receipt number mo, tapos may ibang tatanggap ng pera mo. as in apat na tao.
Miss Aruba: e kasi, grabe ang labour surplus natin. kaya yan, college graduate na may MA on public ad ang tiga stapler.
kawadjan: tapos ang kapal ng mga tao sa NAIA ha, they ask you to pay P750 airport tax eh kala mo naman kung anong 5-star hotel ang airport nila. kahit nga banyo di nila eh ang dumi.
kawadjan: and could you imagine, dito na lang yata sa pinas ang nagpapatanggal ng sapatos.
Miss Aruba: hmm sa s US din, they do that.
kawadjan: eh ang US may serious threat of terrorism, tayo wala.
kawadjan: nakakainis pa sa airport, ang daming guard, ang daming empleyado na may ID, tapos wala namang ginagawa. nakakalat lang sila. sa may pinto ng CR eh parang may guard pa.
Miss Aruba: walang urbanidad ang airport natin
kawadjan: sinabi mo
kawadjan: tapos pagpasok mo lang ng wing to the gates eh may magche-check pa ng boarding pass mo! ano ba yan.
Miss Aruba: ang OA na di ba?
kawadjan: tapos pagpasok mo pa talaga ng gate mismo eh may nagche-check na naman ng boarding pass using paper and pen! at tatlong tao ito ha! may taga tanggap ng boarding pass na bibilugan ang boarding pass mo. mega encircle sya ng mga numbers sa boarding pass.
kawadjan: tapos yung isa she will write your seat number sa isang matrix at guguhitan nya ng highlighter ang matrix. at yung isa eh taga-turo kung saan ang gate, eh nasa gate ka nga mismo.
kawadjan: gosh, nahilo ako ha. i swear, feeling ko nasa divisoria ako. ang daming nagkalat na empleyado doing the most mundane things on earth.
Miss Aruba: clap clap clap clap
Miss Aruba: para syang isang malaking SM store
kawadjan: i could only imagine what the foreigners would think of our airport.
kawadjan: anyway, mas kawawa ang mga pinoy kase ang susungit daw minsan ng mga taga immigration, although i noticed, and in fairness, mababait naman sila, incompetent nga lang.
kawadjan: ay don't get me started on the dept store sa atin. parang sa landmark. may nagsusulat ng order mo na ilalagay nila sa invoice. tapos ipapasa ka nila sa cashier who will scribble all these things sa invoice tapos she stamps it with these things and runs them through a small printer na ewan.
kawadjan: ang daming seremonyas!!!! di ko makuha. i wonder what happened to the computers. tapos may taga-balot pa talaga!!! as in tatlo sila sa kahera. di ko makuha baket
Miss Aruba: kasi nga, may surplus ng labor. lahat pwedeng magka trabaho
kawadjan: sabagay nga no?
kawadjan: oh well, sorry ha nagtalak ako. ma-post ko nga to sa blog ko.
kawadjan: hmp

Adios Las Islas Filipinas

Finally I'm back in BKK after having been gone (more or less) for four weeks. I cannot be more relieved I'm home ("home" meaning BKK). It had been a frantic visit to Las Islas Filipinas, you have no idea how exhausted I truly am though.

In the coming days I'd surely post more about my trip home.

It's fascinating how I'm looking at things in the Philippines using a seemingly different set of eyes. Many times I was amused at the familiar, but also there are many things I paid more attention to whereas I used to consider them as mundane aspects of everyday life in Las Islas.

And then there are of course the number STILL frustrating things about home that I thought have changed for the better since I left. Anyway, I'd go into the specific reflections of my homecoming in the next entries.

For now I'd tell you about my last days in Las Islas.

So after the Cebu trip, I still had a few days in Surigao. Fortunately, uber best friend Nikki also went home so we had more time together, mainly spent on meeting friends, who by now have went to marry and, uhm, reproduced.

Nikki's mom, who is a city councilor, has this wonderful project that distributes pencils, pens, and papers to grade-school kids in Surigao. Nikki was nice enough to drag me to a couple of school visits outside the city center, about thirty minutes by car.

The smiling faces of the children when we handed them the pencils were treat enough. However, it was sad to see the state of their classrooms. It's not like the buildings were crumbling but they can certainly make use of better desks, more lighting, among other basic things.

The trip was also a good chance for me to see some parts of the "countryside", albeit we were not exactly that far from the city.

I truly love Surigao's landscape of rice fields squeezed between rolling hills (I failed to take pictures of this though). We also went to another village called Day-asan, located in a mangrove forest and where houses are built on stilts above the water.

Bye, bye Surigao!

Before finally leaving for Manille, I went out with my amigas and spent more time with la familia.

As soon as I landed in Manila, I messaged a number of my friends about the queen's arrival. Oh, the queen is me, BTW. Tse!

Fresh off the plane, I had dinner with La Ate at Fat Michael's, which is close to her place in Evangalista. After which, I met Daisy's kids and then the next day I was off to my former office in Quezon City where I gave them a workshop on posing. Hahahaha.

La Meredel (a super friend in college) and I visited the Ayala Museum, which has an excellent exhibit called Gold of the Ancestors on the use of gold in pre-Hispanic Philippines. Lo and behold, many of the items came from Surigao. There was also a small show of Philippine costumes called Embroidered Multiples.

La Meredel and I then walked around the swanky Greenbelt 5. Gosh, Las Islas has brought mall design to a whole new level. Despite the seemingly lack of change in the country, malls in Cebu and Manila have been constantly upgraded and refurbished. I'm not complaining though.

Speaking of which, I have no other motivation to visit Las Islas in the coming months but to shop. Gosh, I'm shallow, what's new, aber?

I cannot get over the many edgy stuff churned out by Filipino designers. I even went crazy just being in Bench, Human, Folded and Hung, and even Penshoppe and SM.

I thought shopping in BKK is cheap, but Manila is even cheaper it seems. But I kept shopping at a minimum, hence a trip back to Manila is in order.

Anyway, back to more meetings with fierce friends from the university. And then I went to Malate with Japheth, a close friend from Surigao. At Bed I met one of Manila's most popular blogger and I swear I was way beyond star-struck, my hands were shaking when I talked to him.

On my last full day in Manila, I went berserk shopping. Well, not really. I wish I did.

It was damn frustrating not being able to buy more clothes, bags, and shoes (am I sick or what?) but instead I stocked up on my favorite Philippine-made moisturizer. Hahaha. Only Celeteque touches my skin! Tse!

Anyhoot, la Ate and I made our way to Quezon City via a harrowing ride on a packed MRT. Dahling, you have no idea what I mean by packed. Ewwwww...

In QC I met blogger friends Miss Fiji, Miss Antigua (who visited BKK recently), and Celia Rodriguez (peace, Kiel!). It was a fabulous dinner, not least of which was the best humba I've tasted, and bottles and bottles of San Miguel over our musings on life and love. Choz!

And then, I brought my sister to Malate, her first time in a gay club, to meet Joven (a friend from the university) and Mark (from Surigao).

A note on the gay men in Malate... why are many of them wearing baseball caps? I don't get it. Is it a way to amplify their obsession with trying to appear as straight as possible? Please lang, ha. Nonetheless, I'm not complaining about the number of gorgeous men in Malate, although many of them look aloof and stuck up... and have horrible fashion sense. Well, it's just my impression.

Anyhoot, on day of my flight I had breakfast with Davao friends, Lu and Ipe to catch up on their very sporty lives... they are obsessed with ultimate.

And then it was time to leave for BKK after lunch at Jollibee (of course!) with my sister, who G said is out-fiercing me. Tse, G!

Ok, I'd stop right here. I will not recount my horrible time at the immigration of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA). I swear, I do not have the best feelings for the immigration officials of Las Islas Filipinas, not for the Overseas Workers Welfare Administrations, and most definitely not for the the pinheads at NAIA. Isang milyong TSE sa mga nabanggit na opisina ng gobyerno. TSE, TSE, TSE!!!

That said, I'm so freaking relieved to be back home in BKK.