moving on...

Moving on to wordpress - click:

http://randomisity.wordpress.com

just visiting...

Wow!
It's been more than a year since my last post...
A lot has happened, even nothing has happened...
Hope to write again... :)

just ranting...

There have been tremendous persistent clamor for an update in this blog left in the dust for so long.

Hahaha… what a wishful thinking!!!

Thanks to occasional visitor probably brought here by mere curiosity but I seriously doubt if anyone has actually read anything here in full, just the same I think it’s about time I try to resuscitate this.

I’m not really a writer who can rant and rave on anything. I started this because of an epiphany that has long been gone. Other inspirations have also come and gone. I still don’t have anyone to muse about but I think I still have so many other things to rant about, so hopefully I can fill pages with all these things boiling inside. This has been one of my emotional drains after all.

The dictionary defines superstition as a belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge, in or of the ominous significance of a particular thing, circumstance, occurrence, proceeding, or the like. As much as I would like to think and even to a certain extent deny this but a part of me is really that, superstitious in a way.

I have been troubling and agonizing over a decision these past few weeks more so in the last couple of days, and lo and behold I got this text message early this morning, The message is my horoscope for the day talking about me, that I “should take the leap of faith…” that I shouldn’t be afraid of change, for it will be for the better. Creepy, for this is exactly the fear that has been piercing and twisting my head over this decision.

Yes, indeed, this will be a leap of faith. I would like to believe I have the faith, I just hope to find the courage and strength to make the leap.

My version of Roast Chicken in Herbs

Kabayan,

Here as promised; huli man daw ang dating, masarap pa rin hehe :)

Enjoy!

From my last simpleng handa

(Roast chicken at 10'0clock)

Preparation:

Wash chicken (either whole or 6-8 pieces of quarter cut) thoroughly under running water, drain water and pat dry with paper towel.

Pick leaves of 3-4 twigs of fresh rosemary and equal amount of tarragon leaves. Grind to bits using food processor or finely chop. Mix this with about a teaspoon of black peppercorn.

Put the chicken in a shallow baking pan.

Generously rub salt rock unto chicken, including the inside (if using whole chicken).

Next, rub unto chicken the herb mixture (rosemary, tarragon, black peppercorn)

Squeeze 2 lemons (either green or yellow, sometimes a combination the two) and rub these unto chicken.

Next, rub the whole chicken with generous amount of olive oil, and sprinkle about a teaspoon inside the chicken crevice.

Place half of the rind of squeezed lemon inside the chicken's crevice; together with 3-4 cloves of peeled garlic.

Leave it to marinade overnight in the refrigerator or at least 4-6 hours, leave the chicken with breast facing down.

Put another 4-5 cloves of crushed garlic in the pan together with the remaining half of the lemon rinds.

An hour before cooking flip over the chicken, with the breast now facing up or if using quarter cut; make sure the skin part of the chicken is facing up.

Cooking:

For the vegetable sidings:

Thinly cut into strips 2 pieces of medium-size carrots.

Wash about half a kilo of marble potato

In a pot of water with a pinch of salt boil potato for about 8 minutes, and then add the cut strips of carrot and boil for another 4 minutes. Remove from heat, drain the water and put under running water to cool it down. Set aside.

Pre-heat the oven and set at 195 degree centigrade or between knobs 4-5 setting.

Cook the chicken for 45 minutes; at the end of 45 minutes remove the chicken from the pan and lay down the carrots and marble potato in the pan, and then put back the chicken on top of this bed of vegetable. Baste the chicken with some of the juice from the pan before putting it back in the oven. Cook for another 30-45 minutes.

The chicken is cooked if clear juice is coming out when you pierce the meat with a knife.

Kainan na! :)

Gubat sa paso...

ang aking pinagkaka-abalahan, gumawa ng gubat sa paso hehehe... :)


meet rosemary, minty green, oregani, sweet (basil), lemony and calamansi wahihihi :)


my morning coffee corner... :)

paso population, nearing 70!
somebody stop me please! lol :)

Galunggong atbp...

My version of garlic fried galunggong fillet!

I don't follow exact measurements but usually prepare and cook food as I see it fit.

So the recipe is as simple as I usually prepare it...

Wash galunggong thoroughly under running water until water return is clear.

In a clean covered pot (earthenware-palayok is preferred) spread kamyas (pierce each kamyas with fork first) at the bottom of the pot (calamansi is an alternative- cut in half, remove the seed and spread in the pot with the cut-half facing up). Add 2-3 cloves of garlic in between.

Lay the fish on top of that bed of kamyas (or calamasnsi); sprinkle small amount of sea salt and black pepper. Top it with another 3 cloves of (this time crushed) garlic and 3-4 more pieces of kamyas or calamansi.

Add water, about 1 to 1&1/2 cup or 1/3 full of the total volume in the pot.

Put in high fire and once it comes to a boil put into low fire and slowly simmer until the water is almost completely evaporated. This would take about 30-45 minutes.

Once cooked, let it cool for a minute or two before removing the fish from the pot carefully by hand one by one.

While still hot, remove the head off then slice the fish in the middle to split it open and remove the bone, whole. Carefully pick out remaining bone, usually located at the head and tail parts. Lay it down in a clean plate with the cut half facing up; do this for the rest of the fish. Once done, carefully squeeze (but do not mash) the remaining juice from kamyas and garlic and mix this with the remaining sauce that has settled/remained in the pot. Spread this to the cut half of the fish. The fish can be eaten as is, or this can be fried to crispiness. The cut head of the fish can be deep fried to crispiness in any vegetable oil. Crunchy -Yum!!

For the garlic fried fillet!

Peel and finely minced several cloves of garlic.

In a non-stick pan, put olive oil just enough to coat and cover the pan; put in high fire for about a minute until the oil is hot then, reduce fire into very low setting . Sprinkle the minced garlic in the pan until all surface of the pan is covered; let the garlic fry for 10-15 seconds before putting the fish. Place the fish on top of the bed of minced garlic with the cut half facing up and sprinkle some more garlic on top of the cut half of the fish; fry for 1-2 minutes on each side or until all the garlic has turned brown. Remove the fish from the pan together with the fried garlic. Put in fresh bed of minced garlic for each batch of fish to be fried. Get the remaining used olive oil and spread it in the fried fish before serving.

Voila, a delicious gourmet galunggong!!!

Atbp...

That was my recipe of galunggong I have recently shared over YM chat with a childhood friend. During the course, he blurted out that he has come to know and read this blog. And so, another soul has made the discovery.

Was I surprised? I have seen it coming actually. I was actually expecting it to be precise, from the time he stumbled upon on my YM address which is linked to my other world. I was sure glad he told me, that only meant he was ready and open to receive the revelation; and I was happy with his reassurance that nothing changed with the revelation. I have a hunch he's not the only one among my friends who has stumbled upon this blog, maybe they're not ready yet. Just the same I'm just here waiting to be discovered...

Thank you kabayan!

Enjoy the crispy garlic galunggong!!!

:)

Bebe...

A change in the name…

A change in image…

A change, out of the closet into out in the open…

When the late Rustom (with due respect to the man) came out on national TV with his confessions (more of confirmation than confession) one of the things he shared as his realization was that, not all gay men are parlorista that people have stereotyped. He was sure to emphasize that a man need not dressed or be dolled up like a woman to be gay. I was sure to be glad that he said that, I thought here is a man coming out to shatter the stereotype. Alas, Rustom is dead and Bebe just reinforced the stereotype. 

I was supposed to make a more lengthy discourse on closet, coming out, label, plu and what have you about being gay, but then it’s been too long since I first drafted this so let this be as it is for now.

Meri Kismas na..

Huli man daw at magaling, may decor pa rin hahaha... meri krismas house!!! :)

Rough Cut

Happy Halloween!!! LOL!!!

Morbid Thoughts

Morbid thoughts keep running on my mind; feels like the end is near, at least for me.

Part of mid-life crisis? mid-life blues perhaps, but a crisis? hmmmm.... ???
I don't know, I find it a bit funny in a way, but I kinda look forward actually.
No one can ever be ready for this but I guess, yeah I'm ready in a way.

This morning I got a text message from my brother informing me of an aunt's passing, she's almost 90, I think. Shortly, I received a call from my Tatay telling me the same. He then handed the phone to Nanay who repeatedly asked in a worried tone if I'm okay. She started babbling that she's been having recurring dreams of me. She was about to describe in details about her dreams but I cut her short by changing topic and just assured her I'm okay...

morbid ???
wala lang....

I recently moved into this new office that people claim has bad vibes, bad luck for all the previous occupants. The room used to be the office of all the previous company's CEOs; in the 6 year history of the company already numbering nine (9) I think. The last occupant was the most tragic, he only lasted for about 6 months, having been diagnosed with a late stage cancer on his 3rd month in office. He died soon after. In almost a month of occupying this office, I have gotten sick twice already, just the usual cough and cold type of illness, nothing serious but more than the usual that I get in a year's time, which is usually once a year or none at all. Creepy thought, but will I be another statistics to be added as another previous office occupant??? Time will tell.

mobid ???
wala lang...

All Saint's day and All Soul's day are just a week's away!
Happy Halloween!!!

Musing VII: Making a Difference

I know I'm different since I was a child; part of being different is my conscious effort to make a difference, both in what I do and in someone else's life if I could help it that way. As a child in grade school I readily identified with a friend who is crippled with polio and another crippled with burn accident. I had this connection, they being different as I am. I befriended them helped them in my own way, carrying them at my back literally and figuratively in the hope that I made a difference in their lives. I hope I did.

My stint in the seminary as a young lad in search of identity has been one of the most memorable and fulfilling for the sense I felt that I was not so much different at all. The kinship and brotherhood with the rest of the community has given me immense feeling of being one with the others more than the reality of my being different. As part of that community then and now, I know and I would like to believe I have made a difference.

As a young adult with awareness of the political, family and personal issues I have made it a point to act not with impunity but with care to make a difference. In my own way I took part in the change that was EDSA I and II. In my own way I have been a responsive and responsible classmate, leader and friend in and out of school. In my own way I have been a dutiful son, brother and uncle. Have I made a difference in that respect? I know and I believe I did.

One compelling reason why I chose medicine as my vocation was the fact that it provides me the means and responsibility to make a difference. In my practice as a doctor I always strive to bring into focus my end to make a difference more than the material gain that the profession brings. I'm no hypocrite, but the perks of being a doctor can be so tempting and rewarding that at times I lose focus; I just hope I still made a difference in those instances.

I'm already patting my own back too much; I just wish someone would tell me that indeed I made a difference. I am but just human, needing affirmation that indeed I am good and have made a difference.

Turning leaf...

I turned 40 that is it...

A momentous day, totally not unexpected obviously inevitable but nevertheless something that still brought mix and harried thoughts and emotions.

Bizarre as it may seem as others would have looked at it; I choose to spend my day in solitude, my annual personal retreat and recollection; time to reflect on the time passed, where I stand and where I may possibly be heading. It's not really that peculiar for it has been my tradition to spend my birthday this way even when I was in grade school. Whereas before, seclusion meant getting lost in Quiapo, Luneta, Sampaloc Lake, malls, beach or whatever parks, sometimes unknown and unfamiliar places that my wandering feet happen to chance upon. Uncanny as it may be, but I look forward being alone this time of the year, for my senses become more acute, more expansive that I see and appreciate things differently. This time, my 40th got to be more memorable and the solitude more pronounced for I am in a foreign land, Stockholm, Sweden.

I stepped out of the hotel with no particular destination in mind. The sky is clear and the clime just fine. It's a good day to wander on foot; and tread on I did as I explore the city; charming with the union of the old world and the comfort and convenience of the modern chutzpah. I simply love the charm it brings, but not the expense of living in it; it is certainly the most expensive city even by European standard. My wandering feet brought me to these beautiful parks where I got to spend some time people watching, soaking in its beauty, simply sitting in rumination, enjoying that for a moment I must have been one of the locals basking in the soothing calm that the park brings.

Humlergarden, Stockholm May 13, 2008

Karlaplan, Stockholm May 13, 2008

Introspection has made me aware of my mortality. Forty (40) is a milestone for anyone; others would have been simply lucky to even have reached it, Jose Rizal, despite and in spite of his greatness was even a couple of years short of reaching it; others, like my mother who just turned 80 would probably be looking back at it now as their turning point, their halfway to where they probably are now.

As I stand proudly at 40, I have so much to thank for; I look back with so much pride for the path I have walked on. I have indeed come a long way in my journey.

More than 30 years ago, I was in a small, bucolic town at the foot of Mt. Banahaw enjoying the simple pleasure of being one of the martial law kids: playing patintero, piko, siyato, luksong baka, taguan, and other sorts of games our imaginary mind can only dream up and with toys our bare hands can only hammer, shape and built. And I have so much to thank for those early years: I thank our lack of television for my sense of wonder in written words and the boundless expanse it brings. I thank my worn out slippers I used to go to school for I got to appreciate the comfort of the shoes, more than the beauty of the style it brings. I thank that we were wanting in luxury for I got to experience at a very young age the thrill of caring for chicken and pigs not as pet but as livestock that feed us. I thank our lack of household help for the discipline it instilled in me and my full appreciation of the joy of doing simple household chores including whipping out simple but delectable dishes. I have so much, much more to thank for, but most of all I thank those times for the chance of living in that age when simple life is indeed simple.

More than 20 years ago, I was ironically free in the confine of the seminary. Free to explore the limits of reason, sexuality and ties of friendship. I simply thank those unforgettable 4 years for the kinship I have forged with friends and for the great significance of the person that I have become. I thank the years that follow for the time it has allowed me to bond with my siblings, though very short for they got set on with their own married lives one after the other. I thank those years for allowing me the experience of caring for a child, albeit a surrogate father to my nieces and nephews. Though I’m not a father and may not even be a father in this lifetime I thank my nephew and nieces for they have allowed me to experience the sense of fulfilment and unfathomable wonder of cradling a child; feeding and lulling them to sleep; sharing in the glee of their first step, first word, and other firsts of a child of wonders. I may not be a hero to them, but still my heart bursts with pride and joy every time they reminisce of even the simplest things that I got to do with them when they were kids.

More than 10 years ago I was struggling to be a doctor. It was with great pride that I was able to somehow pay back my parents with the joy and pride of walking me up the stage on graduation day having finished with the honor of being among the top 10 of the class. I thank those struggling years of having been trained by the best in the field of medicine in the Philippines. Thankful for the friends I have gained, for the mentors that inspire, and for the wealth of experience I have achieved, that in a way paved the way for opportunities way beyond I have actually studied and trained for.

The last decade has been a whirlwind of experience: spiral tests of wisdom and my fortitude as son and brother; as friend and lover; as doctor and administrator; or simply as a man enduring of all the frailties and triumphs.

I am now 40: I live on my own, in a place of my own but not in a time that I own. I stand proud and happy because of those years and decades of experience of pain and conquest. I am thankful simply for the life I have lived; still standing ready to embrace the opportunities and challenges that life would bring.

:)

Gym

In the old days, cinema theatres are the only, if not just the usual cruising place for gay men. A convenient place for anonymous opportunity of quick orgasmic release; heightened by the thrill of the risqué itself. I've heard of stories of diverse places becoming hunting grounds throughout the years: public parks, vacant and busy parking lots; every imaginable corners of the malls of any malls including the fitting rooms of department stores; and of course the gym, be it in the floor, locker rooms and the steam or sauna rooms.

Gym stories abound and my keen sense for reading body language certainly made me more acutely aware of goings on for more than a year now that I have been regularly going to FF. With this in mind, I have resolved early on that gym shall be a legitimate and wholesome exercise for me literally and figuratively. I exercise because I want to be fit to enable me to eat what I want and not because I crave to be fit and buffed.

Despite my nonchalant behaviour in the gym, I still have been cruised a lot of times, and a lot of times I have passed the chance except for one time several months back, when my groin gets the horny part of me; wham, cum, thank you man. I'm also human after all. But for the most part I have learned to control my groin; the risqué does not seem to be of worth anymore; only a fool would ever risk being caught taking shit in his own backyard so to speak.

But the past couple of days have been more than the usual. I don't know if I have the word "horny" written all over me that I have been cruised almost every day that I was in the gym. Five days in a row and who wouldn't succumb, especially if a buffed and scantily clad young man goes down on his knees; I am no saint. The encounter did not reach the orgasmic proportion, thanks to the intruder and door that cannot be locked, but somehow the narcissistic in me brought forth a consoling thought that perhaps, I'm still desirable after all, despite my age and that pestering mound of a belly. LOL!!!

Musing VI: Single

I am single and that is a fact that I would probably have to live with for the rest of my life. A very cynical view one might say but a very realistic possibility nonetheless, especially for a gay man.

But being single does not mean I am lonely or that I am alone. Being single speaks only of the societal definition of my status and not my state of being. Notwithstanding the reality of what I have; I choose to be happy and that is more important than weeping for the reality of what I don't have.

Is it really a truth or is it just my contemptible dispute to justify and bring sense to my single hood? Arguably I have deemed my being gay, is not a choice, but an innate truth. It is my very being and as such I have no choice but to accept it.

In the same way, it can be argued that being gay and single is not a choice but a fact of reality; for being gay has the fine distinction of apparent freedom to choose and be not constrained by any form of bond; affirming gay as synonymous with polygamy.

I say it's just a convenient choice of pretext for polygamy, to which I don't necessarily subscribe. An excuse for apparent sexual behaviour of no distinction except for the pleasure it brings. I still believe and choose the transparency of a committed relationship for it leaves no room for ambiguities in terms of love; only a romantic fool that I am would like to understand.

That is another one of my views that makes me a pariah, an ironic twist of being a recluse amongst the recluse. Oh well, that is me just being true to the word non-conformist.

Musing V: Forgiveness

My reflection for the day is to focus on one person and offer my act of forgiveness.

This is going to be more difficult and painful than I have imagined; this is too personal, but somehow the net also provide certain veil anonymity and so I'm posting it just the same.

Forgiveness is one word that would be very difficult to define and understand. I know that this simply is not just a word that I have to say in order to cleanse the iniquities; for the scar will be there, an infinite reminder of the wound inflicted. Will the word be enough to take away the pain, resentment and anger for the offense made? Somehow the voice of that word has the power to soothe but I really do not know; what I know is that my mind will always have that imprint of scar despite knowing in my heart that I have forgiven. What I have come to realize is that, forgiveness is a process; saying the words "I forgive..." is a sacred act, that is why there is the sacrament of confession and absolution in the Christian world. This is my act of forgiveness.

There is one person I offer this act of forgiveness, not so much for her but for me to exorcise the demons that clouds the core of my being.

I cannot fully understand why for so many years and for as long as I can remember; I have been so distant with my parents, my mother in particular. I have condemned myself with guilt for this for as long as I can remember. I have tried to search for the answer and my introspection always lead me back to the time I was in 3rd grade school.

I spent my primary education in public school in a small, bucolic town. Each batch of class is composed of 3-4 sections per level; divided into section 1: the honor class; and sections 2-3 and 4; the other class. I am no genius but not dim-witted either, as attested by some awards I have gotten when I was in the first 2 grades. But this was put into question when I reached the third grade; when I was put in the honor class, upon the recommendation of my grade 2 teacher, who happened to be my mother. The torments, anguish and shame started when my grade 3 teacher repeatedly put in no uncertain terms, that the only reason I was with the class was because of my mother; that I do not deserve to be in the honor class; that I was a dim-wit worthy of the last section and not her class. I don't think the humiliation it has brought me can be measured in any terms and sphere. My young spirit just took it all in; I never told anyone of the pain I was suffering; it felt the whole world crashed on me. I have completely lost my confidence; for each failure and mistakes I made was magnified in my thoughts that perhaps, I must really be a dim-wit. I became angry with my mother for putting me in that class; but my anger cannot overcome my fear of her and my fear of what she might do if she finds out; she's one feisty lady who'll never flinched on a fight for she is a mother first and foremost. It was a long agonizing year for me but it must have been a miracle for me to have survived that class; unfortunately not the scar it has created which, will be forever etched in my heart and mind.

It has been a struggle for me since and all these years to regain my confidence. In a way it has helped me in my struggle to be better, to achieve more, and to prove her wrong. In so many ways and in so many times I have already proven her wrong with each triumph I achieved. But my tribulation remains for I cannot seem to erase the distant wall I have with my mother and that is my greatest frustration more than anything else.

How do I tell my mother, she who has love and protected me, overprotected me at times only a mother would do and know how; she who is now on her twilight years; she who has suffered as well in her own struggle for life and family; how do I tell her that I forgive her for the wrong of long ago that is not of her choosing. It could crush her heart, for I know she meant only the good things for me when she did what she did. It might be cruel for me to say all these now, for time has already proven that she was right after all in putting me in that class. I'm still afraid to tell her and I don't think I would ever have the courage to tell her. And so this is my process, this is my act for her. I have forgiven as much as I ask for her forgiveness for the times that I have not been a good son.

In a way I also offer this forgiveness to the very person instrumental in the distant wall I have ut up with my parents; she who has put in doubt the very core of my being; she who has caused me agony of innumerable pain for the loss of confidence in myself. May she now rest in peace for I have found, albeit painfully, the consolation that my struggle to prove her wrong has in a way, steeled me to strive and achieved much, much more than what she might have taken me for. The experience of it all has, in a way exalted my being and the values that I hold. It has reinforced my pride and my integrity that can never be compromised.

I am human; a flawed and frail human being. I humble myself for forgiveness for the frailties only a human heart can endure.

The Pathology of Stupid Me

Another tale dredged from the bin. I wrote this way back when I was livid with rage. I reworked and tone it down, but the rage is still there for the sake of the story. It's now just a story to be told, nothing more.

It was just a day after Christmas and work in the hospital was slow as usual during this time of year. I spent most the day in the office cleaning my year's clutters. A message popped in my G4M inbox; a message of invitation coming from someone who is alone and wanting company that night for a chat over what is supposedly leftover Christmas feasts and drinks. I agreed, despite the anonymity. Instinct told me he could be a good guy based on the exchange of messages we had; the way he phrased those messages and the way he answered my queries. Phone number was exchanged and we had a brief talk; he gave me direction to his place and we finally set the time. I agreed not expecting on anything except to have someone to talk to and satisfy as well my curiosity on who could be this guy who would invite a complete stranger to his home.

I rang his doorbell on the appointed time, way ahead of the supposedly dinner time. The door opened to a portly, Chinese-looking, bald guy; not exactly my type of guy. I could sense that I'm not his type either. I did not have any expectation and his demeanor on how he received me in his home so far did not alarm me of anything that would make me think otherwise. We had an engaging talk that extended to dinner, which turned out to be heated canned foods, as opposed to what he mentioned as Christmas feast leftovers and non-alcoholic wine for drinks; as it turned out he does not take alcoholic drinks. He doesn't smoke either but he let me smoke in his veranda; though weeks later he would make a big deal about smoking and how he really hated it and so on that from then on I really made sure not to smoke when we were together.

As the night wore on, he asked me at some point what I think of him so far. I told him, he seemed to be a nice guy, generous to have invited me in his home for dinner but I also told him I found him "mayabang" for the incessant talk about himself, bragging about how "made" he is that he can afford to retire and not work anymore; although, he won't divulge what he used to do for a living. He showed me his collection of paintings which included paintings of known Filipino masters the size of which could run to hundreds of thousands pesos and so I believed him; yes maybe he's "made" as he claimed. He also talked about how tired he is of guys taking advantage of him; he paying for this and that. I can only mutter to myself, I'm not one of those guys; I'll never be one of those guys; I have my own money, it may not be much, but I don't think I have taken advantage of anyone and would never take advantage of anyone. After telling him of my impression, I asked him the same and his comments were the usual comments I get, that I'm quiet, reserved etc. I cannot recall any more details of what he mentioned coz as he repeatedly mention that he invited me for chat dinner, drinks and nothing more; something more happened that night.

We continued seeing each other after that night. I have come to know the stories about his past (no. 1) and present (no. 2); the present who apparently caused the break-up of his past, with whom he is supposedly still in constant contact and still not completely over with. Apparently he's having problem with the present and in fact their situation is in sort of limbo-land. Those details did not surfaced during our first meeting, the only thing he mentioned was that he was in between relationship; this certainly is big time news to me. I jokingly asked "...that makes me no. 3 man?"

He casually replied "no, you're not even no. 3; in fact you're not even in the list yet."

Ouch! What a big slap on my face, I assumed wrongly that there could be something more between us. We started on the no expectation basis and so it was not really that hard for me to continue the communication more for friendship as we get along that line just fine; no other sexual encounter happened between us after that first night; and certainly one thing is clear on my mind; getting involve with someone who is still with someone is not my cup of tea.

A couple of weeks after that first meeting he told me that he finally called it quits with no. 2, apparently over money matters. Is this a sign for a possible chance? And so I asked him casually, "does it mean I'm moving up the list?"

He replied, nonchalantly "I'll think about it, if you can fill the slot. Besides, how can we be together when you have not even courted me?" Ouch again!

I really don't know what has gotten into me but I persisted and made an effort to make good impression. I have included him in my sphere; invited him to dinner dates with my friends. I was just disappointed when he left early; I have invited him to the pre-valentine's dinner party of the hospital, first time I have invited and allowed someone a glimpse of my other world; we had a post-valentine dinner as well, as he did not want to go out on valentine's day apparently because of the onslaught of people also having dinner date, but as it turned out he had valentine's dinner with no. 2. He refused another dinner date with my friends, as he claimed he does not really like the company; no big deal for me, for I know I can never force anyone to be friend with my friends.

Another slap on my face came when he told me about a week or so later that Valentine's week that he reconciled with no. 2. I did not made any comments, but he must have sensed my disappointment for he reminded me that he had told me not to fall for him; that in the first place we have agreed that we're just going to be friends; that from the very start he made it clear that he doesn't want to get involve with me. I really don't know what has become of me to be so blinded to have succumbed to a false hope. And so, from that time on I really tried to bring myself to be just friends with him and have erased any more notions that there could be something more.

We still continued our friendship. Somehow I became comfortable with him as a friend. That is one thing I like about him, we argue but still I feel comfortable with him; we converse simply but sensibly. He does not have a regular circle of friends, as he claimed most of them have migrated someplace else, and that I'm now one of the few friends that he can regularly hang out with. Our meet up became infrequent when I began my study review for specialty board examination. I promised him that should I pass the specialty board, I will bring him with me in my planned trip to Bali. I passed the Board and I did bring him to Bali as I promised.

It was already night time when we arrived in Bali. We went out for a walk in the beach as soon as we have unpacked our luggage. As we were walking back to the hotel I playfully jumped on his back and gave him a bear hug. I really don't know if he was serious or was just joking but nevertheless, I got offended when he told me not to come too close, that I'm already making a pass on him, that we have agreed to be just friends and that the only reason his no. 1 and no. 2 agreed for him to come with me was because he promised that nothing would happen between us. I was taken aback, but just the same I said sorry, that there was nothing really to it but deep inside, I really felt like shit. I felt so low with his insinuation that my reason on why I have brought him with me was for me to have a hand on him, and that the trip was sort of a bribe for me to have my way with him. I never told him how I felt, I just remained quiet during the remainder of our walk back to the hotel; he commented that he seemed like talking to no one, that I'm not paying attention to him. I said to myself, okay that's what you'll get from me and so I walked ahead of him, went directly to our room, took a shower and slept. The following morning, sensing that he won't even make the first move to speak, I gave in and said sorry again. In my mind I just don't want to ruin the rest of the trip. The rest of the trip went on with no more spats, we slept on separate beds. Did something happen during the trip? Yes, I playfully teased him and he succumbed each time. A horny bitch was what he thought of me, and so I played the horny bitch part to the hilt.

When we got back from the trip I have resolved to keep a certain distance. But then I think the expectation turned around; he expected more from me, he'd text and quizzed me on why I was not telling him my whereabouts; he'd ask if I miss him, before I usually said yes, but this time I said no, not anymore. I can go on for a couple of days without any communications with him, but when that happens, he'd initiate for us to meet, have dinner or just go out. I started seeking out again; I met a couple of guys from G4M. I mentioned this to him and he bugged me to tell him who these guys are. I gave him their aliases and he must have checked them out for he commented about these guys with disdain. I told him, I'm just meeting them not sleeping with them; I was trying to explore again. I really don't know what to think but he's giving me mixed signals. When he talks, he now talks of "us" and "our" he now plans with "us" and "our."

He promised to set me up with a guy he knows; someone he says is way better than those guys I am dating. He made true his promise, he introduced me to this guy over dinner; but then I was amused, he claimed he wanted to pair me up with this guy and yet he was the one who completely took over the dinner conversation. And after the dinner, he readily offered this guy to stay over at his place for the night, which he never, not even once offered me. In my mind, hello!!! You're paring me up with this guy and you're the one who gets to bring him home. Whoa! I really don't know what to make of this.

He started doing things with me which he did not want to do before. Out of the blue he wanted to come with me in the mass, which he never did before; he's a Buddhist as he claimed. Out of the blue he wanted to come and play badminton with my group. Out of the blue he wanted to invite my friends for dinner. He knows I regularly had dinner with my friends after the badminton games. Where on earth are all these coming from and where is this going to. Okay, maybe he really just would like to be one of the guys. So I acceded and agreed with what he wanted, I thought this would also be a good way for him to widen his circle of friends.

He planned to host an after badminton dinner treat for my friends. He made his dinner plan the day before, it was his first time to cook for a group and he's not too confident about his cooking, so he requested that I do not make the invitation yet. He said he'll give the invitation himself when he's sure that what he prepared would be good enough. That was perfectly fine with me; it's his place and he has all the right to extend the invitation. On that day, on our way to the badminton game, he mentioned that something was not right with what he prepared. He did not elaborate; I did not probed him either and just presumed that he did not want to proceed with his planned dinner. I just enjoyed my games and I saw him playing and enjoying the games with some other newbie's as well. But apparently during the course of the games he mentioned the plan to one of my friends and had actually given the invitation; he never told me that he did.

On our way back to his place, I was waiting for him to make the invitation for my friends who are riding with us in the car but again I didn't hear him extend any invitation. As I dropped him off in his place, he did extend an invitation but only for me to come back after I dropped off my other friends in the mall. I begged off that I will be heading home soon after a quick dinner in the mall. It was only when we were at the mall that my friend whom he had mention about the dinner told me about the supposed earlier invitation. At that point I expected that he would be mad at me for this and so it was not a surprise anymore when I got an angry txt message from him; but still I was surprised with the message "sorry, can't help it, but would like to know if you're still interested to keep me as your friend. Or do you prefer we go our separate ways?"

I did not reply at once, I was driving; as soon as I reached home I called his number, but he wouldn't take any of my calls. I texted him "of course, we're friends. What seems to be the problem?" I purposely did not mention that I have already known his earlier invitation to my friends; in my mind I just wanted for him to tell me so I can pounce on him for not telling me; but he did not reply either. Finally I texted him again this time with a long message "I just found out from my friend that you have actually extended the invitation for dinner (which you never told me). It was your instruction for me not to tell them as you would like to be the one to extend the invitation depending on the outcome of what you have prepared (to which I have complied and never told any of my friends about it). When you mentioned before the start of the games that something went wrong with what you have prepared, I assumed that you did not want to proceed with the dinner anymore. My assumption was further bolstered when I did not hear you mention this the whole time we were in the badminton center neither when we were in the car on our way back. I'm sorry for that wrong assumption, I should have asked, but you also led me to second guessing as you did not mention anything either. Again, I'm sorry!"

He replied after some time with a message: "It has nothing to do with the invitation or dinner. My problem with you is your insensitivity. I'm trying to cheer up every moment we were together but to no avail. I feel I'm out of place in your life. The whole time we were in badminton center you did not speak to me; I felt so stupid; I wanted to play with you but you did not put any effort to do so." He followed it up with: "You're so good at taking care of your friends. I give up on you. I'm tired. Anyway, thanks for the moments. Take care."

I was stunned; I didn't know how to react. Was I really that so bad and insensitive. Why these seemingly sudden expectations? I just texted him back: "I'm sorry if that's how you feel; to be honest yes, I'm consciously trying to keep distance coz we've decided to remain friends and yet I'm getting these mixed signals; it's confusing. Again I'm sorry, though I really would want to continue our friendship, I respect whatever it is that you decide"

He replied "what mixed signal? We have talked about this; I'm taking care of you coz you're my friend. That's why I introduced you to this guy, but look at what you did? I hope you two would get along well, coz I don't want you to be taken advantage of. I value you as a friend since I don't have any more friends here." He followed up "I have told you this before. This goes back to our first night in Bali, you've been like this. I've been so patient with you out of gratitude to you."

I never replied anymore, I think I have said enough.

I have made a fool of myself enough.

I really must move on.

I have moved on...

Anatomy of a G4M Date

This happened not too long ago, written long ago as well, but languishing in the draft bin; might as well rehash, finish and post it for the sake of the story...

G4M is one of those internet dating services that proliferate the cyberworld. I discovered the site or was rather referred to the site on the prodding of a friend that this is a good venue to meet other guys anonymously. Indeed, in the short time that I have been a member, I must have flirted online with a dozen of anonymous guys; anonymous saved for what is written in their profiles; actually met and dated more than a couple and yes in a handful of cases have mated as well.

Whenever I go online to check my inbox, I also make it a point to search and see who the other guys are online. It's a fun way to while away time, reading catchy and sometimes bitchy aliases; reading profiles that can range from the mundane to the dramatic and overly dramatic; funny to downright ridiculous and so many other lengths guys err gays would write in order to make an interesting profile, to catch attention and in the hope catch someone who would dare.

A profile caught my attention; it simply reads "my life like my blurb is a work in progress."

I sent him a message: "… and looking at you (referring to his pictures posted in his profile) I can see what a beautiful progress it has been."

I did not get a reply until a week later, it simply reads: "thanks" signed with his name. I took it as a sign of interest even if it's just a one word response; most guys would never bother to even make any form of response if there is not even a pinch of interest in their bone. I never got to make a follow up reply until few days later. I boldly invited him for "a chat over a cup or a bottle of something." He responded "sure" and wasting no time I sent him my cellphone number at once.

About an hour later from the time I sent my last message, I got a text message from an unlisted number, the message reads "hey pj! here's my cp no. – (his name)" Hmmm... I thought I was fast, but he could be faster in this game or probably he was just leveling my swiftness. And so, the succeeding txt messages exchanged skipped anymore pleasantries as we directly set a meeting later that night, which was just a couple of hours away from that time on. I promptly cleared and finished whatever needs to be finished at work but a little snag prevented me from leaving workplace as planned. I was apologetic, what an impression I would make coming in late on a first date which I have actually initiated; in my book, that is one of the "Don'ts in a first date" tardiness. I texted him I'll be late; he agreed to wait and reset the time. As soon as I finished giving my order to an emergency patient referral; I speed on and took the skyway just to make sure I'll be there on the reset time. Although traffic was really bad, as it was drizzling that whole afternoon, familiarity with driving in Manila helped me made it on time. I parked on the first available space in the basement and raced up on foot to the floor of the mall where he was waiting: Powerbooks. I was about to enter the bookstore when I thought I caught sight of him in a section near the window. I retreated back as I was not sure if indeed it was him for neither of us gave any description, relying just on the pictures we both have seen of each other in our respective profiles, which are not deliberately that clear. I was about to call his number to confirm when I saw him walked towards my direction, he must have also seen me. We briefly held each other's hands for a handshake as we say each other's names in not so much of a question but more of confirmatory statement; I really don't know but that brief touch of hand was sort of electrifying for me. I must have looked goofy as I tried hard to keep my smile on check while my heartbeat raced a hundred-fold during that time. As I regained my composure I invited him to look for a place for us to have a dinner and chat. As we walked and as I make way for him in the escalator, the naughty me, got to admire a good view of his inviting asset. We settled for a brightly lit restaurant not far from where we started. I really don't know if our talk was that engaging that we barely finish the food we ordered or we're just both nervous of the whole meeting. There were not much people and the restaurant was not that busy but somehow it became uncomfortable that people seemed to be looking at us. I offered for us to leave and have coffee in another place.

I was not really familiar with the place and so I let him decide for us, this being his territory; but we were going nowhere so I took over and drove us to the Baywalk. We settled in one of the cafe cum bar with a live band just setting up to play for the night. We chose the far end corner, away from blaring speakers as we continue our talk, sitting side by side just an inch of a touching distance. We talked mostly about each other's lives; his life abroad when he went there for further study, his current works, his family and the things he would still like to pursue in the days coming. I must have told him stories of almost the same vein. I was already happy and contented with the way the date has progressed so far. I think the band has finished 3 sets already when I noticed him quickly glancing at his watch; it was already close to midnight. I thought this has been a long and engaging night. As much as I wanted to stay longer and spend more time with him, the lateness of the hour and the prospect of work in the morning, not to mention that I still have to drive to the other side of the metro for home, made me rather consider just setting another date. I was about to blurt this out when he said he wanted to ask me a question, but then he hesitated. After a little coaxing on my part he leaned closer and in an almost whisper voice asked "Don't you want for us to go to a more intimate place?"

I feigned ignorance and suppressed a growing smile as I simply asked him in return "why?" In my mind the train of thoughts was already racing; there goes my resolved on a first date.

He answered after a while "I've been wanting to hug and kiss you, that's why..." He followed it up with "... can't you see I've been trying to be content just to have a sniff of your scent here on your side?"

That did it: I have restrained myself at that point from holding him but I cannot suppress the wide smile on my face as I asked him if he was really sure about it; all this while my hand was already up in the air, frantically signaling the waiter to bring us our bill. I cannot suppress a nervous giggle when it took some time for the waiter to notice my raised and waving hand. The short walk to the car was spent in silence peppered with suppressed laugh and giggle as we look at each other with shy silliness. I held his hand as soon as we settled in the car; he leaned forward on my side for a brief hug. We continued holding hands as we sped off to the night to some intimate place, where the sun never shine; we spent the rest of the night, or rather the first part of that beautiful morning in a blissful embrace in each other's arms.

As we parted and went our way to work sleepily late that morning we exchanged text message:

Him: "mood: happy. soundtrack: "I got u under my skin"

Me: "Heaven… I'm in heaven…"

:)

Office Politics

There is nothing more difficult to deal with in any office setting than politics. Hospital, a place for caring the sick, where art and science gets to be practiced in the realm of medicine is where one would probably least expect politics to be displayed as part of its existence is definitely not exempted from this and could even be a glaring example of how one defines politics; the power and ability to impose one's will even in the face of opposition. Politics per se is not a detestable display of human behaviour for it is an accepted process for important decisions to be made and concluded.

What is difficult is being caught in the middle of it all. And that is the shaky ground my precarious position and person has sometimes been put into. Inner conflict arises to satisfy and uphold the rationality and sensibility of my boss's decisions but at the same time I'm also caught off guard for the decisions ultimately affect the very people I'm working with, people who are my colleagues, my mentors and my friends. It's not so much a question of defensibility for I know the decisions can very well stand the scrutiny of reason and fairness. But to my mind this is just one part of the bigger equation. Somehow, the soft side in me also put more weight on the decision that is made with equanimity and compassion.

That is one thing I get to admire my boss; no matter how unpopular his decisions are, he will stand by it for they are approached and made with logic and reasons; always with the end to uphold the rule of law and what to him is fair and equal. I may never completely agree with him all the time, but I get to respect him as well for recognizing and taking into considerations the other dimension I get to bring to his thinking process; somehow, I get to let him see as well the more tempered and compassionate part of the equation.

Conflicts are already brewing and the tug war starting. I just hope people do not get to tug on me too much as to compromise the decency of my work and position.

Crush

A friend recently related the importance for him to have a crush on another person for him to possibly consider something more serious like love and relationship.

Crush can be defined as an overwhelming sense of attraction and admiration, mostly physical but it can be some other attributes that one so idolizes and or idealizes in another person. My other definition of crush is that the attraction should be instantaneous; to me that is the ultimate crush. Chances are, one may mistake it for love and or in other instance, the basis for love and relationship.

I really do not know if there is such a thing as rightness or wrongness of acting out on one's crush. It is true, that in a way this is the impetus that makes one act to lead it into possible romance and relationship. But sometimes if not most of the times, relationships that start this way can get stuck in this level and never goes past beyond what is supposedly idealized and move on to what is practical, more sensible and enduring part of relationship.

I started having crush way back when I was just in grade school. Most of my childhood crushes were of the opposite sex. Some of them I can still vividly remember: There is S1, a childhood playmate, a beauty with her long wavy hair, thick brows, curly lashes, fair skin and she smells so good that I would always sidled up to her whenever I had chance; I must have been one hell of a horny boy to even had those desire at that age, but my young mind was not even aware of those. What I knew then was that I must be near her whenever possible. Then there is S2, a campus sweetheart; a bit chubby but a combination of beauty and brains; she's a consistent honor student. There is M1, shy, unassuming, fragile looking girl; what really caught me were her seemingly soulful eyes. I still had my crush on her even when I was in High School. The others were really just passing fancy: M2 who was my first kiss; V because she had crush on me first; A, B, C and some other girls, I cannot remember the names anymore.

Confused as I was, I never had doubts even during those times that I was also attracted to the same sex. It's just that I didn't pay too much attention for somehow I know, it's not supposed to be. I can only remember 2 guys from way back in grade school. One is T, really cute the perennial partner of S2, but he is also a jerk. He typifies the popular but villainous jock of typical juvenile movies. And then there is E, also cute and popular guy, but down to earth and the hero type of guy, he became my best friend during that time. (The subject of Ulan Story No. 2)

My high school life was also peppered with crushes but being in the seminary I even tried to suppress it for these were not just innocent crush anymore but were already mixed with sexual malice. There is K, our own crush ng bayan, almost the whole community had a crush on her. She's one of the anticipated attractions of our Sunday activities, family day. And then there was V, one of the granddaughters of the seminary's benefactors. Let me just call her that, I just can't recall her name, my other mates would rather go for her more voluptuous sister but I cannot forget her, to me her sultry looks, her curvaceous body, mounds of a cleavage and those rounded buns that would instantly give me a hard-on whenever I see her in tight-fitting jeans; I almost creamed my pants one time she bent over with those buns just inches in front of me; but those buns I tell you have really brought me several wet dreams, I think those were the first time I had wet dreams. And what would one expect in an all boys school, not just any ordinary all boys school but a seminary. I had several crushes on my co-seminarians all of them in non-sexual way except one that really stood out, A. He is the class bully, rough, good looking and charming in his own way that made him too confident and cocky as well. I cannot forget him coz he was the very first guy who ever did touch me, sexually. I was so scared the first time he teased and played mine; he was pinning me down in bed with his big bulk (he was much bigger than I was) as I struggled to resist him; in reality I was unbelieving that this macho type of a guy was actually touching me sexually, doing it to me and in my mind I was scarily enjoying as well the jerk off he was giving me. It was more of a willing resistant that I gave him the second time he did it to me. Sexual urge and pleasure became the basis of my crush on him.

Another huge crush I had, happened when I was in College. A, named Goddess of Love, Goddess of my desire. But one problem whenever I have a huge crush is that, I instantly become a bumbling idiot, no words would come out and my mind would be blank. It was happy contentment just looking at her especially her big, sparkling eyes. She has this sweet image, very unassuming, looks that is a dead-ringer for Sharon Cuneta, I just don't know if she can sing as well. My mind told me she could be interested too, but then she could have been just accommodating to a bumbling idiot like me. I never got the chance to tell her I like her or even pursue any possibility as I transferred school after 2 years. Through all the years since, I had this nagging sense of 'what if' and 'what could have been.'

I searched: asked around people I encountered to have been connected with her one way or another. I even went back several times to that school in the hope that I would encounter people who might still be in the know about her. My luck came 6 or 7 years ago when I typed her name in one of the search engines in the net and there she was; still using her old name that means she's not married, that put my hopes up. She had several photos in her profile. She looked so different, she looked sexy and naughty in her pictures, and some were actually beguiling. Her photos showed the opposite persona I knew her to be. I took the courage and sent her an e-mail, this lead eventually to chat in the net and exchange of numbers. I got to know her on a very different light. I told her, she was completely different from the person I knew from College. She was married with 3 grown up kids and she recently just got back using her maiden name, having been legally separated for several years. She admitted being completely different, she had to, as she reasoned she had to survive a very bad marriage and she's raising 3 kids on her own. She has come a long way from her own pit of depression and lowest low. She really was a completely new person when I met her, no longer the Athena I had crush in College. I no longer have to wonder on what if and what could have been; the answer had long been buried somewhere in the past. We became friends after that and have remained friends.

I still get to have crushes. I have acted on some of them, but others remained at that, just a crush. And definitely this is one spice of life that will always be welcome in my life. I have learned my lessons: crush is my impulse of attraction but I have to see pass that for me to really say that I have love.

Musing IV: Hope

I stayed in bed this morning, finished a movie and came in late for work as a consequence. I usually wake up to my alarm, the TV set to go on every 6:00 AM; and this morning it happened to be tuned to a movie channel. A movie was just starting, "Lord of Thieves" I think was the title. A movie set in Venice about a bunch of orphaned kids each with their own little stories and their adventures together to survive the city doing thievery; intertwined with another plot, the adults and their search for supposedly mythical 'merry go round' of youth. The movie ended with both of them getting what they wished for: one of the kids to go fast forward and be an adult and the adults getting back their youth. Enough said, I like juvenile and cheesy movie lol!

As I slowly took my sweet time preparing for work, I was already late anyway. I opened a page of my daily reflection booklet and the day's reflection is on Hope. What a way to start my day, serendipitously. I got to ponder on the words of PJP2 "Hope is not an empty optimism... rather a premise of responsibile activity..."

Flashback to my youthful days: 5th grade was about to end, I and two other friends (Islaw and Simeon, gosh I suddenly remember them - I wonder where they are now?) were watching the practice 'march' of the graduating class. We excitedly watched and pointed out that the following year; we would be the ones marching to the beat, getting up the stage and do all those ritual of graduation ceremonies. We stayed in that open grounds even after the practice has finished. We playfully did our own march as we hum along the beat. We daydreamed on that day; youthful bashing on dreams and ambitions, what we want to be, what we would do, what we could be doing in the years and decades far; family we would want to have, kids we would want to raise; the possible vices that we might even acquire throughout the years including the possible sickness, old age scenarios and death that can befall us in the twilight.

I can still remember some of the things I have bragged on that day: I would be doctor someday, not just a doctor but a successful one at that with all the knowledge and power to heal and help, not to mention all the trappings of wealth it brings; I bragged that I would someday have my own family, a wife and kids and that I would want to start my own family at my early age of 20's; I bragged that someday, the school would invite me to the very same graduation ceremonies for me to give inspirational talk to the would be generation; I bragged of success and triumphs only my young minds could imagine. I even bragged my possible would be vice, smoking but definitely not gambling or alcohol.

Those were the things that I have hoped for. Looking back, I may have eschewed a lot of roads, even got to tread completely different roads but here I am now back to the road my young minds have initially laid out for me. I have gone astray a lot of times, but still the things that I have hoped, somehow always helped me back. I'm now a doctor, successful in my own way and by the standards of what my friends would like to measure me. I now live independently, with the wealth and opportunities that my profession has given me. Yes, I have smoked since the age of 15 but has stopped for almost 2 years now for the fear of what my young mind has also foretold my possible exit mode would be, a painful lung problem (I don't know how I came to that thinking during that time, but my idea that it would be a painful existence and death because of smoking actually stemmed from that time on).

I don't know if my hope to have my own family shall ever pass; having long ago passed that age I have set it in my mind; also having long ago accepted the fact that I am gay. Against the odds, my hope is still there and I have long ago also resolved that whomever I would want to start a family, would be on the premise of that person's complete acceptance of my being and that my utmost responsibility in turn would be my complete trust and devotion.

I'm a hopeless, romantic fool in that way. The pessimist in me would say that this could be happening only in an ideal world and not in this imperfect world. But then I also realize, hope is what I live for.