This thing about KC Concepcion and Piolo Pascual is bringing out the worst myths and stereotypes about homosexuality and homosexuals even from people who are supposed to be smart.



I got this picture from TUPDKK facebook page and people found it funny. I don't know how a crying girl who was clearly in so much pain could really be funny, regardless of what is written in that photo. But that's just the beginning.

Soon, comments about "Fafa Fiola", "gwapo nga, bakla naman", "di tunay na lalaki", "her husband is a 'woman' pala", etc. began to pop up. It's even worse in other fora.

The attacks are mostly centered on speculations on Piolo Pascual's alleged real sexual orientation. I wouldn't even dare comment on that. I think it's a lost cause, to be honest. He has denied accusations of his alleged homosexuality numerous times in the past, but the rumors never died down. Honestly, I think it will only die down once he retires from showbiz and fades into obscurity. Frankly, I don't really care if he's gay or not. I mean, it's not like I'd get the chance to fuck him even if he's gay, right? Haha!

What I do care about is how this issue magnifies the stereotypes that people, Filipinos in particular, have about homosexuality and homosexuals.

Offensive statements
Take that simple comment, "gwapo nga, bakla naman." That's quite an offensive statement, actually. It is meant to point out two contradicting concepts: gwapo being a positive trait, and bakla being a negative one. Oftentimes, that statement is followed by the word "sayang", which is meant to infer that being gwapo is wasted if one is bakla. Why? Because women can't have him? Because his gene pool wouldn't be propagated? Because his looks are wasted on other men? Why must "bakla" be used with such negativity that it could negate a man's handsomeness so much that the handsomeness is rendered wasted?

More infuriating than this, though, is the phrase "di tunay na lalaki"... not a real man... as if being a real man can be measured by one's ability to have sex with women. What does that make gay men, though? Fake? Deceptive? Less than 100? Half-woman-half-man? Just because someone doesn't quite fit their own preconceived biases of what a man should be, he's not a "real" man anymore?

The most frustrating thing is that these comments do not only come from allegedly "straight" people; they also come from people who are openly gay.

Within the community
Recent studies have concluded that most homophobes are also gay themselves... or at least not straight. Homophobia is not just the result of ignorance; oftentimes, it is also the result of self-loathing. And that's not only true with closet-cases, but even with the out-and-proud.

The methods are different though. While the closet-cases would resort to violence and bullying tactics against the out-and-proud in order to protect their own secrets, the out-and-proud would relish the outing of and even help spread the rumors about a closet-case. Both can be very vicious.

The struggles within the Filipino gay community goes deeper than that, though. I once had a colleague who was a cross-dresser, and when I told her (yes, I refer to her as female because that's how she prefers it) that I'm gay, too, she thought I wouldn't want to have anything to do with her simply because most gay men like me didn't want to be associated with gay men like her. I thought that idea was funny. But her fears were not without basis.

Even in the gay community, cross-dressers and "parlor-type" gays are put in the lowest caste. I don't get why we even have to have sub-groups. I mean, the gay community itself is not even a clearly defined group because a lot of gay men are still in the closet and most of them aren't really 100% gay to begin with.

Cross-dressers and "parlor types" also get the most bullying and discrimination from the Filipino society. I've been out for a while now and I've never been discriminated against. That's because in the Philippines, homosexuality is mostly tolerated as long as you don't rub it in people's faces.
Actually, cross-dressers and "parlor types" are the face of Filipino homosexuality. Unfortunately, they have become the stereotypes... so much so that every other gay man who doesn't look like them or act like them are thought of as fake... deceitful... not embracing who he really is. These loud effems have eagerly embraced these stereotypes, too, which is sad.

Myth of the third sex
In a false sense of pride, these "faces of homosexuality" have subscribed to the idea of the "third sex." They didn't like to think of themselves as men, and they knew they weren't really women... so why not create a new category that would define them? Unknowingly though, their subscription to the idea of them being a "third sex" just opened them up for more discrimination.

There is no such thing as a "third sex". People are either male or female (or a hermaphrodite, but that's a special case). Saying that gay people are part of the "third sex" confuses biological reproductive type with sexual orientation and gender identity. These are three different concepts. You can either be male or female; homosexual, bisexual or heterosexual; and transgendered or not. And even the combinations of those classifications may not be enough to encompass the complexity of human sexuality.

I am very much against the idea of a "third sex" because of its implications. The phrase "di tunay na lalaki" is a direct offshoot of this idea. It gives people the license to treat gay people as less than human because they are neither men nor women. It also gives people the idea that once a person comes out as gay, he should start cross-dressing or acting all gay-like (which is absurd)... and when he doesn't, he's not being true to himself... he's not embracing his "gayhood".

(Incidentally, Rustom Padilla, a.k.a. Bb. Gandanghari, even reinforced this wrong idea. Then again, if that's who he truly is, then more power to him... but gay men who cross-dress and are effeminate are actually a minority. Most gay men like being men and have no desire to be or even to look like women.)

Boxed in
The greatest enemy of gay people is themselves. Just look at the Piolo Pascual - KC Concepcion issue... those with the most deplorable remarks regarding Piolo Pascual's sexual orientation are coming from gay people themselves. If we want to make changes in our society that will benefit all of us, we need to get rid of these stereotypes and accept that we are as diverse as any group of people can be.

Don't let yourself be boxed in a stereotype that doesn't even remotely define who you truly are.

A Reflection on Praise, Self-Esteem and Perceived Causes of Success
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Since I could remember, I was always touted as the “smart one”; my brother, who is 22 months younger than me, had always been the “cute one.” People around us, even our teachers in grade and high school since we had almost the same teachers, have always tried to compare us. One would think that being branded as “smart” would’ve boosted my self-esteem sky high. One would be wrong. In fact, for most of my growing up years, I had wished that I was just “dumb and pretty” instead of “smart and ordinary”.

School was never a problem for me. It was easy for me to understand concepts; actually, I usually get bored with some topics long before the teacher would move on to a new one. But growing up, school had always been something I had to do instead of something I wanted to do. I got a lot of praises early on because of my innate abilities. I didn’t become a “praise junky,” though. I just became so used to it that, eventually, being praised for doing well in school had come to mean very little to me. It even came to a point, around my freshman year in high school, when I dreaded being praised for doing well in school. I actually stopped trying to do well altogether. So, I just studied when I was interested in a topic and I just ignored the rest.

It’s a good thing my parents never pressured me into “staying in the honor roll.” My teachers would always tell my parents that I had the ability to be on top of my class, but I was just too lazy with school work. They were right, of course, about me having the ability to be on top. But back then, I just didn’t care about being on top anymore. I used to think that I just got tired of being the “smart one” and decided to go the other direction. Looking back, though, maybe I stopped trying because people had always assumed that it was my innate abilities that made me excel in my early years of schooling.

The funny thing is that my classmates and teachers regarded me as smart for all the wrong reasons. They would see that I could perfect a quiz or an exam without even reviewing for it. What they didn’t understand was how hard I focused my attention on the lesson when it was being discussed that I didn’t need to review for it when exam time would come because I had already learned it. They would see that I could still maintain high enough grades without doing or submitting my homework, projects, or even writing notes on my notebook. They didn’t understand that doing homework and some school projects bored me because I already learned what I needed to learn from them, and that I didn’t write notes on my notebook because writing notes distracts me from the lesson and I could learn better when I focus my attention on the lesson.

They didn’t realize that I worked my ass off to learn the things that interested me. My classmates would sometimes think I was nuts because I would do our math homework right in front of them when they would ask to copy from me, but I wouldn’t hand in my work to our teacher. They didn’t know that I had actually already solved most of the problems in the book and I did it for fun, not because it was assigned to us.

They never saw the efforts I put in to my school work. I wasn’t lazy with school work; I just didn’t do the school works that were required for grading.
Unfortunately, most of my high school teachers didn’t know how to handle a student like me. I had a couple of good ones, though. My math teacher in 4th year recognized that I was already bored with the topics she was discussing, so she gave me a book on College Algebra and Trigonometry and told me to study that instead. When she checked my notebook for the subject, she just laughed off when she saw that I had only written on half a page for the whole year; she knew I didn’t need to write down notes to learn. But most importantly, she recognized the efforts that I was putting in to study the topics that interested me. She congratulated me on my achievements and rewarded me with more challenges. She praised my efforts, not my abilities.

I learned a lot from her, and not just about math. Now that I’m a teacher myself, I try to emulate her example. I rarely give out praises because I know they do very little to raise someone’s sense of self-worth. Personal experience has taught me that excessive praising has more adverse effects than positive ones. I want my students to feel good about their achievements because they worked hard for it, not because I praised them for it.
It took me a long time to realize that I am smart not because I easily grasp concepts and I get good grades; I’m smart because I realized early on that I didn’t need somebody else’s appraisal of my work to know I did well. I didn’t need to see a 90+ on my report card to know that I had learned a lot. I know that I’m smart enough to do or be anything if I just put my mind to it. I know my capabilities and my level of intellect. And I know my worth as an individual.

My self-esteem has been pretty high for a long time now. But that’s only regarding my intellectual and academic capabilities. I still have serious self-doubts when it comes to my looks. I still sometimes wish I was “dumb and pretty” rather than “smart and ordinary.” Damn those people for comparing me with my brother!

A Reflection on Bullying and Learning Disabilities
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I had my first taste of bullying in grade 1. I was the victim; my tormentor was my classmate. Up to this day I don’t really understand why he singled me out. All I know was that it started when he asked to borrow my crayons and I told him no because I was still using it. He grabbed the paper that I was coloring and it was ripped in two. I remember that I cried because I was working so hard to make sure everything was colored within the lines. The teacher reprimanded him after she found out what he did.

After school that day, I was still loitering around while waiting for my aunt, who was also a teacher in the school, to finish her work. He suddenly grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me. All I could think about was I had to get to my aunt’s classroom, so I walked with him following behind me, still holding on to my shirt. When I reached my aunt’s classroom, I struggled to get away from his grasp. Luckily, my aunt spotted us and yelled at him. He quickly ran back to his mother, who was also a teacher in the same school, with my aunt running after him. Unfortunately for them, my aunt was also a bully and he and his mother both got a mouthful. He never tried to bully me again and eventually became one of my best friends.

Unfortunately for me, I learned that the easiest way to avoid getting bullied is to be the bully. And I became one. No, I never physically attacked anyone. My bullying is quite subtle, but I now realize that my kind of bullying also creates a deeper scar than any physical wound would leave behind.

I guess it started around grade 4 or grade 5. I had a best friend and I found out that some of the other kids tended to gravitate towards us. I learned that I had the power to choose who I would allow to hang out with us and who I wanted to exclude in our group. We were also quite mean to people who weren’t included in our group. We taunted them, teased them, and called them names. In my first year in high school, I was one of the boys who were sent to the guidance counselor because we were bullying a girl. We never really stopped bullying her until she transferred to another school the next year.

Even in college, I was part of a large group of friends in our dorm. We were always so noisy and rowdy, and I know it bothered a lot of people who actually wanted to study. One of the students tried to tell us off one time, and we just taunted him and challenged him to a fight. He cowered, of course, and we just kept on teasing him whenever we got the chance.

I thought I was over bullying after I graduated from college. But I realized I wasn’t. Even as a faculty member, I was part of the group who actively excluded and bullied one of our colleagues. I had convinced myself that we were justified; after all, he was annoying as hell. He was also quite lazy and just, generally, an ineffective teacher. Looking back on it now, though, nothing could really justify the way we treated him.

Yes, I was a bully. I still am. I’m still mean, and I get even meaner when I’m with other people who think like me. I don’t know if I could really stop being a bully; after all, being mean is already deeply ingrained in my psyche. That is my dysfunction. But, at least, knowing the effect that my words and actions have on others could help me filter myself out. It just has to be a conscious effort on my part.

I especially have to be on my best behavior when I’m dealing with students with learning disabilities. I haven’t actually met a person with a properly diagnosed learning disability. I had a student once who probably has a borderline case of autism, although we can’t be sure because the parents refused to acknowledge that their son is different, but I know that’s a different disorder altogether. I’m sure he didn’t have dyscalculia because his performance was consistently low on all subject areas.

Having him as a student, however, made me realize just how intolerant I am of students who can’t get it right away. He was in my tutorial class because he had failed College Algebra twice already and he would be expelled if he failed it the third time, so he opted to pay for a tutorial class rather than join the regular classes. And since everyone else in the department had full loads, he was given to me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t equipped in dealing with students like him.

I often had to give him exercises and excuse myself to prevent myself from uttering words that would probably destroy his already fragile self-esteem. My patience was tested every time we meet. But the good thing about it, at least for me, is that I learned to stretch my patience and I learned to control my innate meanness.

I would still need more practice though. Maybe teaching students with learning disabilities would finally help me get rid of my own dysfunction.

(This is a reflection paper on Socio-Emotional Learning and Students’ Approaches to Learning)
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For the most part of my student life, I was a surface learner. I couldn’t help it. The basic educational system I grew up in encouraged surface learning. It didn’t actively take into consideration my socio-emotional learning; all that was important was that knowledge would be transmitted to me from my teachers. Examinations were mostly objective types and did not encourage reflection and analysis; they encouraged rote memorization instead. But mostly, I was a surface learner because the topics were not presented in an interesting enough manner to actually grab my interest.

I cruised along the elementary and high school grades quite smoothly, mostly because I was smart enough to know how to get high enough grades without putting in too much effort. Looking back, however, what did I really learn? I was able to memorize and recite Mark Antony’s monologue in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, but I didn’t really understand its context until recently when I saw PETA’s William. I was able to enumerate all of Rizal’s siblings, even his girlfriends, but I never really understood the importance of memorizing their names to my life as a Filipino. I was able to summarize each chapter of Rizal’s El Filibusterismo without really understanding the message of the novel. I was never really asked about my thoughts and my feelings toward these pieces/topics; I was just asked to memorize them. But I got high grades for them, and for the most part, that was all that mattered back then.

It all changed during my freshman year as an undergraduate student at the University of the Philippines. For the first time, I was asked what I thought about the topic. And for the first time, I was actually encouraged to think about the significance of the topic to me as a person, an individual. I had to learn to argue with fellow students and the professors to fight for my ideas. I had to learn to compromise and to synthesize my ideas with those of my classmates so that we could come up with an effective and coherent presentation, paper or stand. I had found my individuality by being in a group of people with very diverse ideas, and I learned to deal with them and work with them. I didn’t get exceptional grades, but I started to learn because I wanted to learn, not because I had to learn.

As an educator, though, I am faced with the same problems that had plagued my basic education years. The urge to simply go with the traditional, teacher-centered route that encourages surface approach instead of deep approach to learning is quite overwhelming. It is a cop-out, I know, but having over 50 students in a class is quite a challenge on its own, never mind finding a way to encourage a deep approach to learning among the students.

But maybe actively nurturing their socio-emotional development could help. I didn’t realize it before, but some of the activities that I have implemented in class actually affect the students’ socio-emotional skills. I’ve sent out my students in groups to their respective communities to find real environmental problems that they could recommend viable solutions to. I assigned my statistics class, as a class project, to research the incidence of smoking among the students of our school and the reasons/factors behind it. In my Physics class, I assigned my students to develop, as a group, their own simple electric generator using only magnets and coils. But I gave my student these activities because I thought the activities would be a fun way for the students to apply what they learned in class in real-life situations; I never really actively thought that it could affect their socio-emotional development as well.

Now that I know better, I could see myself thinking of even better ways to engage their affective, socio-emotional learning in order to encourage them to adopt a deep approach to learning. Hopefully, my students will get a deeper appreciation of the subjects I teach and they will learn to develop a passion for learning for learning’s sake. I still have a long way to go in this regard; I, myself, am still learning. But I think it’s a good start.

I have the worst luck in the world when it comes to number games. I'd only ever won twice in raffle draws my entire life... and those were only because they were Christmas raffle draws in the company and everybody won something. I place bets on the lotto, but I'd be lucky if I get two numbers right. And I don't even attempt to play bingo; I just plain suck at it.

Lucky for me, I don't have to rely on numbers luck in order to survive. I have the brains and a host of skills to make it in a lot of careers that might interest me. And I owe it all to my parents.

I am a firstborn and my parents were very young when they had me. My father was only 20 and my mother was 21. Both hadn't even finished college yet. My father was able to finish a technical course, though, and my mother had to stop either because of the pregnancy or because of the lack of money.

Both of my parents did not come from wealthy families. Both of them had told us a lot of stories from their childhood. They laugh while they recollect the hardships that they faced as children, but I know a lot of those experiences had cut deep scars in their psyche. I mean, my mother still refuses to clean the fish we buy from the market. She says she remembers the time when she was small and very hungry because it was way past lunch, and then her mother would come back from the farm with fresh fish and she still had to clean the stupid fish before she could cook it and they could finally eat.

The thing is... I look at them with amusement when they tell these stories, but I don't really know how they really felt back then. I never had to be hungry throughout my childhood. There is always delicious food on the table and in the kitchen when I wanted to eat. I never had to wait for my food. And I always had a choice between two or more dishes. I never had to sell pandesal for my daily allowance for school. I just had to show them my palm and they immediately put money on it.

Compared to them, I had a very easy childhood. They made all the sacrifices so that I could grow up happy, smart and have everything that I have now. They made sure that I was well fed... that I had all the toys I could ever need... that I get all the help I could ever need in school... that I had a healthy social life... that I grow up into a well-rounded individual.

My father made a big sacrifice early on. He went to KSA before I could even say tatay. And for eight long years, he endured the heat, the cold and the loneliness to give us a good life. He was able to buy a couple of lands and he was able to build us a nice, big house. But he said his greatest investment was supporting my mother in finishing her college education.

When he came back for good, I was only 10... and I was pissed. I didn't understand it back then. I didn't understand why the cool toys and sweet chocolates would stop coming... and all I got was my father who always told me not to do the things I wanted to do.

My father and I had a lot of brushes throughout my highschool days. We never seemed to see eye-to-eye back then. But when I was in college, I finally understood why he had to come back and be with us for good. I was on the verge of adolescence back then... and he wanted to be here for me. And all the money in the world would not be enough for the things he did to help mold me into the man I am today. Sure, money became a lot tighter, and there were a lot of times when he thought he made the wrong decision. But now, I know he made the right decision to stay. Fatherhood is not just about providing financial support for your family... it's about guiding your children to their full potential. And that's exactly what he did for me and my siblings.

But I think the best thing about my father's return was that it allowed my mother to evolve into the strong superwoman she is now.

My earliest recollection of my mother is that of a silent, submissive housewife. She did what my father told her to do and she had to ask my father for the things she wanted. But when my father returned from KSA, my mother became the primary provider. She already had a steady job back then, teaching in elementary school.

At first, my father opened up a restaurant with my grandparents, and that provided us with enough income to enjoy a comfortable life. But when my grandma died a few years later, my father eventually had to sell the restaurant... and he was left unemployed. My mother had to step up to the plate. And from then on, she became the boss. And she did a marvelous job at it.

Since a teacher's salary could hardly support a family of five, she got odd jobs sewing uniforms and stuff to add to our family income. And as soon as I started highschool, she started saving for my college education. She usually sewed all night long, having only 2-to-3-hour sleeps each night, just to finish everything on the delivery date. We helped. But while my siblings and I slept soundly in our respective rooms, my mother kept chugging away on that old sewing machine to add a few more bucks on her savings. And that went on for years... up until I finally got my college degree.

There is simply not enough thank-yous in the world for a woman who used her wits and skills in order to give her three children the best life possible. And even now that we're all grown up and have our own lives, my siblings and I could still count on her whenever we need something. And she still gives. That is just the wonderful woman that my mother is.

So... I don't have the best luck in the world when it comes to lottery and other number games. Who cares? When it came to parents, I hit the jackpot! My parents cared for us, provided for us, protected us, and loved us unconditionally. They gave me space when I needed to spread my wings... encouraged me to build my own nest to test my strength... but still made sure I know I could come back to them when I need them.

I have the best luck in the world when it came to parents. They made all the sacrifices so that I wouldn't have to. They made sure I could stay a child for as long as I could so that I could be a proper adult when I grew up. They made sure I wouldn't have to dance inappropriately when I was six years old just so we could have ten thousand pesos. They made sure I was safe. And if, by some stroke of miracle, I become a parent myself, I'd consider myself successful if I am half the parent to my child as my parents are to me.

I hit the jackpot. Unfortunately, the jackpot is a rarity in this country. And in that regard, six-year-old Janjan hit the bust. And I feel sorry for him. I wish he could've had better parents.

Hey, how's it going? I know I haven't written on my blog in a long while... I've been kinda busy... Kinda. Hahahah!

I had planned to go to Puerto Galera last weekend... even if I had to go alone. I guess I was just itching to experience the beach once again. Plus, it had been so damn hot for a few weeks now!

Fortunately, I didn't have to go alone. A few friends from my previous work went with me... or I went with them... I dunno exactly which. Haha! Anyway, we got there Saturday afternoon... got ourselves a couple of nice rooms and started experiencing the beach... sun and all.

My previous trips to Galera had taught me quite a few things... don't drink too much too early... don't be afraid to smile and say 'hi' to people... let them see your fun side... and surround yourself with good wingmen (or wingwomen, in this case).

They didn't know it then, but Dulce and Marj (two of the girls I was with in Galera) turned into the perfect wingwomen that Saturday night! Heheheheh!

We started with the infamous Mindoro Sling after dinner and a sunset walk around the beach.We drank slowly, though (don't drink too much too early). We watched the firedancers do their thing (they were awesome... especially si kuyang hipon na may boyfriend na super cute na Australian!). Then, the bar wenches (who were all drag queens) danced to some Korean girl band dance song.

At first, I had my eyes on this gorgeous kid who was taking pictures of everyone with his DSLR camera. He was tall, slim, dark and really cute. Too bad he was straight. Major turn-off though was that he was flirting with absolutely everyone, going around from table to table and using his drunken charm. I would've loved to have a piece of that, but I thought he was much too hard to pin down at one place for a long period of time. I did say 'hi' to him and his friend and we got ourselves introduced (don't be afraid to smile and say 'hi' to people).

Then, I noticed the cute couple drinking on the table beside ours. One was obviously buzzed and coming off a little flaming; the other was the silent type and just smiled once in a while. I thought the silent one was a nice catch... but I wouldn't pass up on the other one as well. Hahaha!

More than half-way through our second pitcher of Mindoro Sling and we were starting to feel the effects of alcohol. Soon, Dulce, Marj and I were on our feet and dancing to the house music blazing from the bar (let them see your fun side). I'd catch one of the two guys looking at us and I would smile at them.

Soon enough, the flaming guy was on his feet as well dancing by himself as his silent boyfriend looked on. Since he was dancing alone, I thought it was rude if we didn't invite us to join us. So I put my arm around his shoulder and joined him while he was taking a picture of himself, and then asked him to join us.

He said his name was Chris and he introduced his boyfriend as Borj. After a little persuasion, Borj was dancing with us as well. Chris readily admitted that he and Borj were together... it was so easy getting information from him because he was too drunk to know better. Hahah! Chris asked if they could join our table, and of course, we agreed.

This was our third pitcher of Mindoro Sling, which meant that I had probably lost most of my inhibitions by that time. So, soon enough, I was visibly flirting with both Chris and Borj. When we got back to the table, Marj engaged Chris in a conversation, while Dulce and I talked to Borj. Eventually, Dulce became an observer while I talked to (and seduced) Borj (surround yourself with good wingmen).

After we finished our pitcher and the boys finished their beers, Chris wanted to party some more, but Borj said Chris was too drunk. I told Chris to go to the water and swim for a while to sober up a little. Unfortunately, he just rolled on the sand while he was walking towards the waters. So I picked him up and told Borj that we better get him back to their room. I tossed some change to the girls and told them I'd help Borj carry Chris to their room.

When we got to their room, I sent Chris to the shower while I flirted with Borj a little. They had a double decker, both queen-sized. Borj told me I could take the top bunk if I wanted to stay the night. Chris stumbled out of the bathroom naked and Borj had to wipe him dry with a towel. I helped in getting him on the bottom bunk of the bed. Borj put a shirt on him, but couldn't find a pair of his shorts. So, I just snatched away the towel and covered him with the blanket.

As Borj went into the showers, I told him I'd better try to get home. I went out of the room and started to trek my way back, but I (conveniently) got lost. So, I made my way to the room and found Borj taking a shower with the door open. I told him I got lost and I'd better stay the night with them. I was staring at his naked body all the while... and I wasn't hiding it.

I washed my face and washed my mouth with toothpaste and water in the bathroom as Borj toweled off. He was already lying next to Chris when I climbed up to the top bunk. I was about to doze off when I heard Borj calling my name and telling me that he was going out to buy some water and he could take me to my room. I said okay and went with him.

When we got to my room, I knocked and called out for Marj and Dulce. Fortunately, they were dead to the world and were not answering the door (great wingmen, I tell you!). So Borj told me it was okay and I should stay in their room. I thought it was his last-ditch effort to resist temptation.

After we bought a bottle of water, we made our way back to their room... and I was all over him while we were walking. When we got there, I went straight to my bunk and started dozing off, thinking that I would climb down in a while to try to get both of them in a threesome.

Borj, though, didn't go to sleep. He went out of the room for a while... to smoke, I suppose. Then, after he got back in, he went to the bathroom. I thought that was weird and I knew something was up. I was dozing off to sleep when I felt his hand on my shoulder. He was telling me to move over to the far side of the bed. He climbed up and lay beside me. Of course, I had my arms around him in a matter of seconds, and I spooned him.

Soon enough, my hands were going all over his body as my lips explored his neck.

I'll leave it to your imagination what happened after that. Hahah!

He took another shower after that, though. And after his shower, he went back to sleep beside his boyfriend as I got in the bathroom to clean myself up. I made my way back to my bunk and slept until the sun began to strike my face.

They were still sleeping when I got up. I decided not to wake either of them. I silently got myself out of the room and made my way back to my own room.

No, I was never planning to get in the way of their romance. Like I said, I wanted Borj because I thought he was a catch, but I wouldn't pass up on Chris either. I wanted to have a threesome with them. I could have been the stranger they wouldn't have to meet again ever. I guess Borj had another plan. And on their third year anniversary as a couple, Borj was with me... while his boyfriend was sleeping deeply on the bottom bunk.

I'm just glad I won't have to see both of them again.

So... I have a whole new site.. and not just for my blogs either.

The new site is still under development. But at least this blog site is now up and running.

So, what's new with me? Hmmmn...

Well, I'm still single... but the dry spell is over. Hahah! What I meant was that I'm going out now a lot more than I used to and I'm meeting a lot of new people.

And yeah... there's the sex, too. Hahahaha!

Just last night, I went to Blue Sapphire with Rain and Jonathan. Rain was supposed to bring along Hanz (my ex) because I was planning something wicked. Heheheh! Let me try to explain this kinda complicated situation...

Hanz and I were together for about 2 weeks during the early part of the year. After we broke up, we still hung out and even had sex. But it was clear, at least to me, that I'm never getting back together with him.

Anyways, even when we were already broken up, Hanz insisted that he doesn't have anyone. It was a lie of course. He had been with a few guys, maybe not official or anything, after we broke up. (I'm not even sure he wasn't with anybody else when he was with me, but that's beside the point.) It really didn't matter to me, though, if he had someone new. I mean, it's not like we're still together, right?

But for some reason, he lied to me about it... well, them, actually. Hahaha!

Jonathan is a kid that Rain met and fell in love with a few of months ago. He couldn't reciprocate Rain's feelings, though. But he's a sweet kid... really cute, too. Haha!

Anyways, since Hanz became Rain's boss a couple of months ago, they started hanging out as well. A few weeks ago, Rain invited Hanz to hang out with them at Jowee's. So, there was Hanz, Rain and Jonathan. And since I'm working in the same building, I joined them during my break.

That's when everything started between Hanz and Jonathan... after I left them to go back to work... right under Rain's nose. Before the night was over, Hanz already had Jonathan's number... a few days later, they became officially together... well, as official as any closeted relationships could be.

The thing is... Hanz convinced Jonathan not to tell anyone about them, to which the kid agreed. But the kid couldn't really contain his feelings. It was obvious on his Friendster profile that there was already something going on between him and Hanz.

Of course, it didn't go past by me. And it didn't go past by Rain either. It would really be hard not to notice, anyway.

Aside from that, Jonathan, knowing that Hanz and I used to be together, had started asking me questions about Hanz... primarily because Hanz was still being Hanz and he wanted to understand why.

And boy, did I give him a downlow! Haha!

So, Jonathan hesitated a bit, but finally admitted to me that he and Hanz were already together. But when I asked Hanz about it, he flat out denied it. (Kinda hard to ignore the text messages, though. Right, bby? Haha!)

So, I did the first wicked thing when I baited Hanz during that IM. I knew he'd deny it. I guess I already knew him too well. The next wicked thing was that I saved that chat and forwarded it to Jonathan. Then, even more wicked is that I asked Jonathan out that day... we just had a meal together and then went to see a movie and then spent the rest of the day together... some people would call that a date. But we couldn't call it that because he was still very much with Hanz that time. Hahaha!

To make it short, they were broken up a few days later... and I had Jonathan in my bed after another few days.

No, there's nothing really going on between Jonathan and me. We're just friends... with a lot of benefits. Heheh!

So, going back to last night... Rain was supposed to bring Hanz without him knowing that Jonathan would also be there. I just wanted him to squirm as he watched two of his exes getting it on. Hahahah!

Unfortunately, Hanz did a Hanz thing again... he canceled at the last minute.

Fortunately for me, I still got laid anyways. Hahah!

But I was so looking forward to a threesome... Well, maybe next time...

c",)

I saw you last night. You were walking with Alei and you were wearing your Verizon jacket. You were smiling. You looked nice.

I had a blast in Puerto Galera the other night, just like you wished. I met some new people… partied all night… got a little wild. No fucking though.

Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to. But alcohol couldn’t quite take over my resolve against casual sex. I swore off casual sex a while ago. Bet you didn’t know that. You think I’d fuck anything with two legs that could walk. Truth is I’m done with that life. I don’t wanna be that guy anymore.

Given that, it’s kinda absurd that you think all I wanted from you was sex. I know Inan planted that idea in your head. He likes to think that he knows me. He doesn’t. He doesn’t have a clue what I’m all about. Nobody does, really. It’s funny that he thinks he and I are alike. He’s nothing like me. We’re not even in the same league.

Some little birdie also told me that you said that out loud… I mean me wanting only sex from you. That’s sad. I wouldn’t deny that I wanted to fuck your brains out. Can’t help that. I really, really liked you. But if it was all I wanted, I would’ve fucked you when I had the chance the first time we got together and then claim later on that I was just drunk. Instead, I settled for a “relationship”.

I was so excited about getting together with you, too. I mean, it’s really been a long time since I was in a relationship. I was ecstatic about being “the boyfriend” again. I failed miserably, of course. I guess I wasn’t really the boyfriend material, after all. Then again, you weren’t either.

The weekend after we got together, you remember that? You were the one who told me you’d spend it with me. I got everything in my house ready for you. I washed all the dishes in the sink. I tidied the place up. I bought groceries and cooked food for you. I even cleaned up the goddamn bathroom.

I texted you to ask you what time you were coming over. When you didn’t text me back, I tried calling you. You didn’t answer. Three hours later, you texted back saying you couldn’t make it because you need to accompany your mom for a check up, which you could’ve told me the day before so I wouldn’t have made a big fuss about you coming over when you really weren’t.

You said you’d come over the next day instead. Truth is, I was already really pissed at the time. You cancelled on me on our very first real date. How do you suppose I should feel? So, I told you to forget it. I got work.

Louie told me that it was too early to start a fight. So, I just let it go. Well, I tried. And I was doing so good at it… at least until I realized it was eating me up inside… silently.

For the next few days, I tried to invite you to hang out after work. I even waited for you a couple of times. But after getting only excuses from you a couple of times, I figured this wasn’t really getting anywhere. That’s why I didn’t ask you to hang out the next weekend. I figured you’d just try to find another excuse to squeeze yourself out of it.

Truth is I was looking for an excuse to start a fight. And you gave me a damn good one. So, I showed you my other side. The jerk. The confrontational, no-holds-barred, foul-mouthed asshole. What can I say? In less than two weeks that we were together, you brought out the best and the worst in me.

So, I did what needed to be done. I ended it. What hurt me the most, though, is that you let me end it that easily. You didn’t even fight to stay with me. You just accepted it. This from a guy who says he loved me.

It was funny how you always profess that you loved me. You told our colleagues at the office that you did. You texted me that you did. Truth is I never really believed you. I didn’t believe you because you never said it to my face… while looking me in the eye. You never really look me in the eye when we talk. It makes me think that you were always hiding something from me.

Did you ever notice that I never said it back? I always told you that I cared about you, but I’d never said I loved you. Because the truth is, I wasn’t there yet. I have feelings for you, that’s for sure. Is it love? Not yet. You never really gave me the chance to fall for you. So, I got stuck in infatuation and frustration.

More emphasis on frustration because you totally defied my definition of what a boyfriend should be. I told Louie I should have said this when I was breaking up with you: “If I wanted a girlfriend, I’d get myself one.” But that was just mean, I know.

Then again, if anything that Francine and Drew were saying was true, that would be worse than anything I could say to you. Truth is I don’t believe them. They were drawing a picture of you that I couldn’t recognize… like it’s a totally different person that they were talking about. Then again, I don’t really know you that well, do I? We never got there, either.

But for the sake of my sanity, I really can’t believe them. I mean, it’s unfathomable for me why you would want a puff-eyed fish fry when you could have me anytime you want. I know I’m not as hot as I used to be, but I still am way, way better on my worst day than that guy.

What I could believe, though, is you denying that we were together. And you said so yourself. You denied it when someone who lives near you asked you about us. That stung like a motherfucker. It could be worse, though. You could’ve denied us in order to get laid, which is one of the things that Drew was claiming.

Well, it’s just a sad, sad situation, really. I wanted you. And I told you that if you wanted me, too, I’m yours. You said you did. Apparently, you didn’t. Or, at least, not enough.

It’s done, then. It’s really over. And I’m moving on. No use waiting for you.

Maybe someday you’re gonna look back and regret that you didn’t fight for me harder. Then again, maybe not. Maybe someday you’re gonna feel comfortable enough in your own skin and be free from all the fears and insecurities that you have now. Maybe someday you’ll finally find the courage to be with me. But I can’t wait for you anymore. I can’t wait for you to grow a set of balls. I can’t wait for you to finally be honest with me and to yourself. I can’t wait for you to be in the same place as I am now.

And I most certainly will not go back to the place you’re in now. It’s suffocating in there.

Word of advice, though… Don’t get a boyfriend yet. At least not until you get your shit together.

As for me, I probably won’t be jumping into any relationships for a while. My first boyfriend scarred me for life. And the last one reminded me why I don’t do boyfriends.

Maybe I should just go back to casual sex after all. Hahaha!

—————–

It’s your birthday today. Happy Birthday. c”,)

So… I’m kinda seeing this new guy at work.

I knew I liked him the first time I saw him. But there were just a few complications then. So I didn’t tell anyone how I felt. I mean, not one soul. And I never showed him, or anyone for that matter, how much I liked him.

Then, last Wednesday, after I found out that there would be a scheduled power outage in our area that would last for 9 freakin hours, I went with a few officemates to a drinking session sa Taft (sa Tafat ng SM — Haha!). Of course, he was there as well.

So, he sat beside me and about 3 or 4 Red Horse beers later, we were already holding hands. A couple of beers later and I already gave him the I’m-yours-if-you-want-me line. And before the day ended, I officially had a boyfriend.

In less that 24 hours, everybody in the office already knew about us.

And I haven’t even had sex with the guy yet!

I don’t really know what’s gotten into me. I never rush into a relationship… except for that one time almost 10 years ago with Bryan… and we all know that didn’t go very well for me.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not saying I’m regretting this. This could be a good thing for me. I mean, I really have no idea how to be in a relationship. I don’t even know when to start panicking if my boyfriend isn’t texting (2 days or 3 days of no text?).

This is all so new to me.

Am I to consider his feelings and opinions now before I do something? Am I gonna need his approval? Am I supposed to be worried if he doesn’t text me often enough? And how often is “often enough”?

Damn! We haven’t even gone to an official first date yet! (Which was supposed to happen last Saturday if the fucker didn’t cancel on me at the last minute, which I really would have been pissed off if I wasn’t so sick that I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything this weekend anyway.)

I really didn’t think this through, did I?

But man… I was so happy last week that I couldn’t get that silly smile off my face.

Is it too early to initiate a first fight if it hasn’t been a week yet?

Hahaha! I am so screwed…

When I was newly promoted as TQA Supervisor over a year and a half ago, I was presented with a dilemma: I could use my new-found powers to advance the careers of someone who was close to me at the time… someone that I liked very much.

I could have used that power to have my way with him. And I probably wouldn’t have been questioned about it because I had the utmost trust of my superiors. But I didn’t.

I’ve always tried to steer clear of things that would put a question on my credibility. Even if it was unfair for other people. I don’t really care about what the general public thinks of me or the decisions I make. But I do care about what my subordinates and superiors think of me when it comes to how I conduct my business.

It’s important to me. And I take extra precautions to make sure that I conduct my personal and professional affairs separately. Like what my friend George said to me a while back… never shit in your own backyard. And I had always tried to conduct my business with that in mind.

Good thing about me is that I could deal with my professional and personal relationships separately. I mean, I could have a professional and personal relationship with someone and keep those relationships distinct and separate. I could reprimand a subordinate and still be friends with him. And I make sure that I treat my subordinates the same way whether they are personally close to me or not.

But the truth is… I’m only human. And I know in my heart if I wouldn’t be able to keep my personal feelings from my professional decisions. And that’s when I always make the decision to choose me over someone close to me.

Like I said, a year and a half ago I could have promoted someone I liked. He was qualified for the job, too. But the thing is, I knew I would have had given him small favors even if he didn’t ask for it. I would have had given him the best schedule… I would have had offered him offset RDs… I would have had let him off the hook if he was late… I would have had made excuses for him if he was absent… I would even have had offered him to report to Makati from time to time if I knew it would be more convenient for him even if he really had no business being there… and I would have had given him all the best trainings that the company could offer even if my other people deserved to have those trainings before he did.

And even if I really didn’t mean anything by it, I’m sure people, especially my people, would have noticed the little favors I would have given him. And I would have lost the respect that they have for me.

So, even if I wanted him to be so much closer to me, I was relieved when I was informed that he didn’t pass the HR process. I could’ve waived HR’s decision. I could’ve made a Policy Exemption for him. But I didn’t.

No matter how much I wanted him to succeed in his career… no matter how much I wanted him working close to me… I didn’t lift a single finger to help him out. I didn’t think it was worth it to lose the reputation that I had built in the last few years. When it comes down to it, I would always choose me.

I knew it was unfair for him. He would’ve been an excellent QA. But I don’t think it would be beneficial for him if people thought he only got his promotion because he was close to me. It would have hurt him in the long run, too. If ever he would get his promotion in the future, there should be no doubt that he got it because he worked hard for it and he deserved it. Not because he was close to me or anyone else.

Truth is, when it comes to me, the last thing one should do if one wants me to promote him is to become too identified with me. That was his mistake.

But I think he knows that now.

Like I said, if it’s just a random nobody who would question me, I wouldn’t give it a second thought. But I value my subordinates and my superiors’ opinion of me. My superiors assess my performance. And my performance is assessed through the performance of my subordinates. That’s why it pays to keep them happy. That’s why their opinions count above all else when it comes to work-related matters. That’s why they come first. Even if I had to sacrifice a friend’s career advancement.

I just don’t think it’s worth it.