Waking Up From Nightmares

I haven't been able to write lately on the blog because I've been so busy writing a novel.

Yes, I am writing a novel. I started a month ago. My boss commented that my first-world problems could be the plot of a movie, and that made me think. Movies sometimes are not taken seriously, but books, these are immortal.

The novel I am writing centers around me, Cityboy, and my boyfriend. I am honestly not sure how it ends, because the story is still ongoing. Right now, my boyfriend seems to be the supporting character who might get trampled on in the end, but who knows.

I've been waking up from nightmares recently. This past week, I would wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep.

I woke up from a nightmare again today. Cityboy was in my dream.

I don't know what he feels about me, in the dream. He seems to take me for granted, in the dream. In the dream, I get a sense of yearning, of wanting to be with him. In the dream, I am in love with him.

I am in love with him, I know that. He makes me want to take care of him. He seems lost, and confused. He's young. I want to nurture him, but I don't know how to do it because I have always been the one on the receiving end of that type of love.

You always end up with the person who doesn't fit your ideal, my mother told me that. She preferred chinito mestizo men, and she ended up with my dad.

I prefer stocky guys, who are older, in a sense more mature than I am, because I want to be "babied". I am the eldest in my family, and I always had to be responsible, so I wanted someone to be responsible for me.

Its different with Cityboy. He's tall, lean bordering on muscular. He looks very young, and he's a bit on the immature and stubborn side. And yet, he constantly plagues my dreams. At work he's there all of the time, ready to offer a smile. The way he looks at me, makes me want to melt. The stolen glances he would give me during meetings, these make me want to hide under the conference table. The way he "accidentally" brushes himself against me, and I try to get away from that accidental "touch" only for him to lean in closer.

Is he straight, is he gay? He claims to have a girlfriend, and I was holding his iPhone for him one time when a message from "Hun" came in. So I told him that "hun" was looking for him and that he should leave me already, and he just replies, "Hayaan mo na yun. Okay lang." I won't even dismiss my boyfriend that easily.

I am ranting now, because a couple of weeks ago, I broke up with my boyfriend because I was so confused. Last night, I committed myself to him.

It is not a marriage yet, but I committed that I will stay with him for the rest of my life, through thick and thin, whatever comes along the way. Like I said before, Cityboy was, or is still, a crossroad. I had to ask myself which path I should take? Do I take the road less traveled? Will it really make all the difference?

I am scared. I am scared of breaking a heart, I am scared of breaking my own heart, I am scared of forcing a heart to love me.

I Cannot Love You

I cannot love you because I love someone else.

Stop the way you’re eyes linger

And steal glances towards my direction

As each time you do, i shiver with fervor

But I will not love you.

I cannot love you for I cannot quiver

As often as I do when I hear your voice

Assured, confident and yet turning to a whisper

As you tell me that I owe you

When I owe nothing but shame at what I might feel.

I cannot love you for I have given my heart

To the person who will care for it the most

Even if I cannot love him with as much fire

As the passion that you incite in me

With each note, with each touch.

I cannot love you.

I will not love you.

Yet I already do.

Puedo Escribir Los Versos

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Escribir, por ejemplo : 'La noche está estrellada, y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos'. El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso. En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos. La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito. Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería. Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido. Oir la noche immensa, más inmensa sin ella. Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío. Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla. La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo. Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos. Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca. Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo. La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos arboles. Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos. Ya no la quiero, es cierto pero cuánto la quise. Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído. De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos. Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos. Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero. Es tan corto al amor, y es tan largo el olvido. Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos, mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. Aunque ésta sea el último dolor que ella me causa, y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo. In English: Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, 'The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.' The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes? Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her, And the verse falls to the snow like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her. That night is shattered and she is not with me.  This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her as though to go to her. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me. The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same. I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her. My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing. Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before. Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes, I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long. Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer, and these the last verses that I write for her.

I Run

borrowed from coasthillsrunningclub.com

I run.

Physically I run, but it is a manifestation of how I want to deal with issues of the heart as well. I am falling for Cityboy. So today, I decided to go out of the condo to run.

I've done this before. When I tried getting over the guy in my life from HS, I ran around the academic oval in UP. I ran almost everyday. There weren't any iPods back then, so I took joy in the ambient noise of the jeeps and cars passing by. There were times when I would bring a Discman to listen to music to help me think. I ran until the ache in my heart was replaced by the aching of muscles, and the immense sweat build up.

I forgot him.

I had to run also today, because of Cityboy. I'm not in love with him, I can't fall in love with him.

I went out of the safe haven of my condominium complex, and ran. There was no direction this time. I went straight, turned left at a corner then crossed the street. I found myself in the most unusual place. It was at the back area of my condo, right at the back of the business district, but it had turned residential. It was an old Makati that had turned into disarray. It was a Makati that was different from the side that I was used to, the side I worked in, the side I lived in. There were sari-sari stores, and cars parked on the streets.

He lived here. My feet brought me to the area where the man I was running away from lived. Having realized that, my eyes went searching for his car, for fear that I would end up in front of his house.

I wanted to get out and I ran away from that place. But I got lost. I was lost in that area, and I was afraid that one wrong turn and I would be face to face with him. My iPod was on, and the music blaring into my ears spoke of love, and it didn't help that I was trying so hard to teach my heart that it's a crime to fall in love with him.

He lived here. The place scared me. He lived there and it scared me that although it was also Makati, it is quite different from what I'm used to.

That's when it hit me. We're different.

I am with my boyfriend because we are alike in ways that would make our relationship easier to manage. We come from the same background. Our parents have about the same amount of businesses and savings. We both studied in Ateneo and ended up in UP Diliman. Cityboy studied in San Beda from GS to college.

My parents have a house in Ayala Heights, and a newly purchased house in New Manila, and they purchased a condo for me in the heart of Makati. My boyfriend lives in Ayala Heights also.

And Cityboy lived in that area that scared me.

I drove a 2010 black Pajero, and my boyfriend recently purchased a pearl white 2012 Pajero to match my car.

Its so easy for us to concentrate on our relationship because we have everything other people try so hard to work for. We just have to work on us.

If that's the case, then why did I end up along Metropolitan Avenue in Makati, with a view of my condo and Cityboy's area in the back. I stopped, and I was about to cry from the exhaustion of trying to find my way back home, yet I did not know if I wanted to head back home or to stay lost.

I went back up to the condo, but headed straight to the pool. I took a quick shower, and proceeded to the pool. I floated on my back and looked up at the sky. It had turned dark, but the sky was clear. I made sure my ears were under water so that I could hear the ripples of the pool. I went out of the pool and took a pool chair, put my iPod back on and stared at the sky.

I was there for a good hour, when I realized my head had cleared up already.

I love my life, and will not give up who and what I am to be with him.

I will stop texting him, and will only email him when necessary. I will work to fix my endorsements and look forward to being transferred to a different property, far from him. I will not work with him anymore. I will not stay in the same office as he.

I love my life and I will keep it.

Rush

Yikes! I never thought my blog's title could actually turn into an actual reality!

The song I have for everyone today is Blackstreet's In A Rush.


It came over me in a rush that I realized that I love you so much and sometimes I cry but I can't tell you why I feel what I feel inside. 

It happens. You just wake up and you're in love with someone, while you're still with somebody else.

I think I'm in love with Cityboy. All it took was for him to send me a couple of silly text messages. Am I that easy?

I was up until 12AM last night because we were sending each other messages.

This is crazy. I barely know him. He isn't even cute. I don't even know if he's gay. He just talks softly, and like a kid.

I hate this.

Cityboy

So after having come back from Singapore a couple of weeks back, and after lamenting over the miniscule bump on my iPad because of the horrid baggage handling in Changi Airport, I thought I was going to be able to forget Nat, my Mr. Weekend in New England.

Guess what, another guy comes into my life.

I mean, he didn't literally just pop in, he's actually been there, but I wasn't minding him. He's a new employee in the office. He's one of the Finance Managers of my company, so I work hand in hand with him to ensure that the finances of the department assigned to me are in order.

I just realized last Friday evening that his text messages are kinda iffy. What I mean is, we've barely known each other for a couple of months and he sends me the oddest text messages.

For all intensive purposes, let us hide this mystery guy under the code name Cityboy.

Let me transcribe our messages for you:

ME: 
When is she coming back? Tell her I will pick her up just so we could meet regarding this issue.

CITYBOY: 
Hahaha, Tonight balik niya. When are you going to be transferred to a different property?

ME: 
I know, I know, I'm being too makulit about this and there's nothing you wouldn't want more than for me to be transferred to a different property. Unfortunately my papers for the transfer have not yet been transferred yet. The Board of the other property hasn't even received my resume yet. 


CITYBOY:
Sayang. Hehe. No I'm not asking you to leave. I'm just wondering who would take your place handling this area when you're gone. 

The following is a transcript of the odd text exchange we had last Friday:

ME:
When are you available so we can schedule talking about the billing and other things?


CITYBOY:
Tuesday, after our 9AM meeting.


ME: So that's 1:00PM?


CITYBOY:
We can have it right after.


ME: 
Over lunch? We usually finish that meeting at around 12:00-12:30PM. (Me aghast that he doesn't even want to take a lunch break before proceeding to the next meeting.)


CITYBOY:
Depends if we can have lunch, let's ensure to finish this on Tuesday.


ME: (realizing he might have thought I was inviting him for lunch)
Oh, no, no, the question was meant to denote that after the meeting is lunch, and not a lunch invitation. Anyway, let's finalize this on Monday so that we can start having a semblance of a weekend. I'm sure you've had a long day also. I just got to Dusit from the office for a dinner party, and I was held up not by traffic but by work. 


CITYBOY:
Having experienced you drive, good to know your (sic) safe. hehe.


ME: (upset because I was offended by his statement)
Oh that's bad, are you saying I'm a bad driver? I got into a car accident twice in my life, and I wasn't driving both times. So to answer you, I am not a bad driver. Nonetheless, my parents are buying me a new car so you don't worry that I wreck my Pajero. 


CITYBOY:
Haha. O well, at least for me, never been hit nor hit anyone. Im always safe. Except when I'm texting while driving or when sleepy. hahaha.


ME: (Realizing how awkward the conversation is turning.)

I had to attend a meeting with him this morning and I was trying so hard to ignore him. I actually felt so glad when my boss asked me to sit at the other end of the board room table.

Honestly, I could see him stealing glances from me.

We had lunch afterwards, and I was insistent that I needed to sit next to him to discuss the pending matter that we had texted about last Friday.

I was there to discuss work, but my boss was saying that she noticed he was all googly-eyed with me.

We had another meeting afterwards, and when he was about to leave, he was saying goodbye to everyone, and I didn't bid him goodbye. He had another longing look for me.

This guy is supposed to be straight. Allegedly he has a girlfriend. Then why do I feel as if he's hitting on me? And for the record, I don't like him. I'm not all kinikilig when my officemates are making him asar to me. I'm actually natatawa. 

Honestly, with the guys that are coming my way, I feel like I'm stuck in high school. 

Does He See Me?

Wondering out loud, will Nat be proud of me?
If he found out that I also teach during Saturdays, or that if I maintained blogs?
If he saw how tight a ship I ran in the office, or how I conduct my meetings, what would he say?
Does he secretly hope to have my life, when he sees me arriving at work in expensive cars?
Does he appreciate the Chopards, the Panerais and the Technomarines worn during days off?
What would he say if he found out I live in a property managed by our company, that I am a resident?
How would he react if he saw the house my family lives in?
Does he see me the way I see him?
What sense do these things have if he doesn't notice me?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad2

Not Applicable Today

Pretty difficult to work today. Since I only have 2 days to finish 5 days worth of work, I am up to my neck in paperworks that need to be filed, and minutes that need to be transcribed. To make matters worse, I can't stop thinking about him. Damn! Listening to Phillip Phillips' rendition of Usher's U Got It Bad, and I am thinking, this voice belongs to Nat (yes, that's the codename I gave Mr. Weekend in Baguio). This infatuation has gotten to stop! It's not healthy anymore. These thoughts are so not applicable today!

Listening to a cheesy Toni Gonzaga song on my iPod while finishing minutes.

"Catch me I'm fallin' for you and I don't know what to do. How can something so wrong feel so right all along? How can time be so wrong for love to come along? How can love let it grow when it has no place to go and I can't go along pretending that love isn't here to stay."

I lectured my mother the other week about the lyrics of songs. Apparently during their time, they'd just sing to the songs without minding what it was saying. The thing about me is I listen to what the lyrics are trying to say. I don't want to be mindlessly saying something obscene.

I feel I'm a DJ and I end up playing songs that I see as current themes of what I'm feeling.

Point being, if this song is the constant in my iPod right now, I don't think Nat is turning out to be healthy for me. Got to find a distraction from him then.

Out Damned Spot

I remember the spot he was trying to clean on the Porter bag while along Gibraltar in Baguio. Took a damp rag and wiped the spot.

Wouldn't want to look and give meaning to simple actions, especially coming from a straight married man. I hate this.

Weekend In New England

I have been a fan of Barry Manilow since I was a kid. One his songs that I've been obsessing over for quite some time now is Weekend in New England. For those who aren't familiar with this song, check out the lyrics and the music posted on Youtube.

Perhaps what I love best about Barry Manilow's songs are the stories being told. Most of his songs tell a story, none of the crap that we often get nowadays. Weekend in New England, in my opinion, speaks of a married man who takes trips to New England where he carries out an affair. Some even say that Reba McEntire's song Whoever's in New England is the wife's perspective on the husband's romantic trysts in New England with his mistress.

"Last night, I waved goodbye. Now it seems years. I'm back in the city, where nothing is clear."

For the first time, I am acknowledging feelings that I think I might have with an officemate of mine. I am in a relationship right now. I do love my boyfriend, so much. This is me releasing these feelings I have for someone else.

We're about the same age. He was born the same month as me, the same year as me. We were born 15 days apart. We started in the company the same year. I would notice him from the first few days of training. He has one of those nerdy boy next door looks that make geeks like me want to swoon over him. He's about as tall as me. He's quite lean. I love his complexion. But that was it. My property is different from his. He's assigned to a low-end property, and I'm assigned to high end one.

After the training, I didn't get to see him much. I would see him in company parties and functions, but we don't really interact. In fact, it wasn't until over a year later when we interacted again. My boss at the time made me perform for the Christmas party. I was going to sing, and he was one of the dancers. They were going to dance to that song with the lyrics, "I was dying inside to hold you. I couldn't believe what I felt for you. Dying inside, I was dying inside, but I couldn't bring myself to touch you."

He could dance. And he would always attend our practices, even if he had to commute all the way from Quezon City to Makati. I think I had a crush on him then.

"And tell me when will our eyes meet? When can I touch you? When will this strong yearning end?"

Another year went by, and I was asked to help out for another Christmas presentation. Since I had just come from an operation, I couldn't really actively participate in the presentation, so I was asked to help with the costumes, and the make-up. He was part of the group again.

An innocent crush can change quickly to desire, and when he was changing costumes in Intercontinental Manila's function room, he just took off his pants in front of everyone, I was shocked seeing his bare chest and his boxers. I couldn't stand it. I had to excuse myself. Imagining what I would have wanted to do with his smooth chest, and wanting to pull of his flimsy boxers, I chose to leave the function room.

I went out to purchase oil and  black body make up, because the men in the group were to wear a "bahag" and nothing else, save for their oiled and "messed up" torsos.

I came back and everybody starting oiling and applying black body make up on themselves. He asked me to apply oil and make up on his torso. I wasn't breathing at all while I was doing so.

"Time in New England took me away to long rocky beaches and you by the bay. We started a story whose end must now wait."

Last Friday, I went to Baguio. It was our company's annual summer outing. He was part of the first batch. I was trying so hard not to mind him at all. There was a bonfire Friday evening where our HR announced the group leaders for the scavenger hunt to be held the following day. I was one of the group leaders. I went up and was given a list of the employees who belonged to my group. I started reading from the list, but my heart stopped on the last name, and I hesitated before I said his name out loud.

The scavenger hunt was quite an ordeal for me. I was physically not fit to run around Baguio looking for clues. Furthermore, I was sporting a hangover from drinking the night before. We rode a jeep going to one destination, and he was sitting beside me. He would pass payment from other commuters to me to give to the driver, and our hands would touch. Each touch was electric to me.

We were running to Strawberry Farm, and he must have realized I was having difficulty. He took my Porter messenger bag from me. One of the locations was muddy. I was cringing because my Yohji Yamamoto sneakers were getting encased in mud. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him my sneakers were PhP 15,000.00, and he was shocked in the most cute and concerned kind of way. He saw dirt on my bag, and he started brushing it off. I laughingly told him he'd be aghast to know that the bag was more expensive than my shoes, and I was right. He smiled.

He needed money to use the restroom. I told him to just get it from my wallet. He was shocked because I had PhP 10,000 pocket money and SGD 400 in the wallet.

One of the challenges called for us to row a boat in Burnham Park to get a flag. He was having a hard time rowing, and I wasn't because I must have done this in Baguio a hundred times already. He was so ashamed and kept apologizing to me. I didn't mind because at the back of my mind the thought of rowing in Burnham Park with him was one of the sweetest experiences I've had of the man-made lake.

I was watching a movie in the living room of the cottage Saturday evening, and he was drinking with his friends in the dining area. He would bring shots of vodka and soda to me in the living room. He offered a body shot. 

"And when will I hold you again?"

He's straight. He's married. He has two kids.

I'm gay. I'm in a relationship. I'm happy.

I don't know how he factors in.

All I know is that I'm a spoiled brat who lives in a condo, drives around in SUVs, and dines out in expensive restaurants almost nightly. On weekends, I grudgingly go home to my family's house in New Manila, where I plan dinner menus, or make reservations for restaurants.

He's a family man who lives in Cavite with his wife and two kids. I don't think he owns a car. His wife cooks for him. His kids wait for him to come home.

We're worlds apart. And I don't mean this in any belittling manner.

But at random moments, I end up thinking of him. The ride back to Manila from Baguio, all the songs in my iPod made me smile randomly, because all I thought of was him.

Going to Singapore in a couple of days with my boyfriend. I will make better memories there.

BDO: We Find Ways of Inconveniencing You

I have an account with SM Makati BDO. I have a trip to Singapore this May 16, so I contacted my branch last May 2 to order SGD 400. I was informed by the woman I spoke with that it will take 3-5 banking days for the SGD to arrive. I called the branch last May 8, on the 5th banking day, to check if the SGD is available, and they informed me that these arrived last May 4 (the 3rd banking day) and since it was unclaimed, it was returned to the supplier. I asked them why they did not contact me, and they told me that it was not their practice. I informed them that they gave me a time frame of 3-5 banking days, so naturally, I would call on the 5th day to give them leeway, so why am I being inconvenienced by the return of the SGD on the 3rd banking day. 

On May 8, the man I spoke to, and with whom I ordered the SGD for the 2nd time, assured me that for the inconvenience I experienced, he will ensure that on May 10 he or someone from the bank, will contact me as soon as the SGD arrives. Nobody called me from the branch, I ended up calling to follow up if the SGD was there, only to discover that I needed to present my passport and e-ticket in order to get the SGD. 

The previous people I spoke with have not informed me at all of these. It was a good thing that my e-ticket was readily available, but my passport was in the condo. I am gravely disappointed that BDO does not value the simple joys their account holders get from the basic courtesies that should be expected from banks. It is very different from BPI who knows how to take care of its account holders. They contact you if your checkbook is available, if your SGD is available, or if your ATM is available already. 

I know I'm just one person, and that my account with your bank is nothing, but regardless of the client, BDO has to do a better job of taking care of us, of giving us value. A simple call to inform your clients of the availability of the third party currency that they ordered will only cost a couple of minutes (landline is free calls) from the time of your bank employees, and yet will make a big difference in ensuring that we are kept satisfied.

Liberty Chan of Landmark

Jay-Li's complete name is Liberty Chan. She is with Landmark's customer service. She condescendingly referred to me as ITONG BAKLANG ITO when I had a valid issue with how they issued a sales invoice to my staff when we had requested for an OR. Their customer service staff did not mention at all that the tape receipt is an OR.

Clearly, Landmark's customer service table was at fault in this issue, and yet, Ms. Liberty Chan, instead of owning up to their mistake as a department, called me a faggot instead.

Her name means freedom, yet she deprived me of my right to be treated like any other customer regardless of my preference.

I may be one voice, nobody may listen to my words, but I will not allow other homosexuals to be treated with the same disgust that this woman has accorded me.

We deserve better treatment.

We are not lesser citizens because of our preference. We pay our taxes. We contribute to economic growth. Our efforts and hardwork ensure others of jobs. And yet I was not good enough for Ms. Liberty Chan.

Itong Baklang Ito

I was liquidating receipts from last week's event when I noticed that 3 of the official receipts from Landmark Makati were actually just sales invoices. These were dated March 21, March 22, and March 26.

I had one of the complex's messengers go to Landmark's customer service table to have these replaced with official receipts. He came back saying that Landmark refused to give him official receipts, and that the tape receipts the cash registers issue are actually official receipts already. Perplexed, I called the customer service table to clarify what went wrong. On one of the dates, I was actually with my staff when we purchased the items, and we were directed to the customer service table at the ground level when my assistant asked for an official receipt. I explained to her that I needed to have the receipts liquidated with my accounting department, and that I need the tape receipts that were left with them. She told me that these were not going to be released within 24 hours, and that it would take a week.

It was quite unacceptable especially since I was sure that their customer service personnel did not inform any of my staff that they would only be issuing sales invoices. The woman I spoke to on the phone was explaining to me that the tape receipts were the official receipts and that the written receipts they issue are just sales invoices, and that they inform the people who go to the customer service table of this. I told her we were not informed, since in one of the instances, I was there, and we were not informed at all of that particular condition. I asked her who was on duty on those dates, and she, Li-J Chua/Chan was on duty during all three dates. I insisted that the tape receipts be located at once since the non-information came from their end.

She couldn't understand what I needed, or my defense. She asked to put me on hold.

Obviously, their phones do not have mute buttons, and she just tried to cover the speaker of the handset and said to her co-worker, "Hindi ko na maintindihan ITONG BAKLANG ITO. Ang hirap kausap. Nasaan na ba ang supervisor natin?"

I heard everything. As soon as the phone was given to her supervisor Cynthia, I asked if they had mute buttons over the phone. I informed Cynthia that I heard what Li-J had said, and that I resented being called BAKLA. I told her that what Li-J said was such a bigot statement. She did not know what bigot meant, so I defined it to her:

"...a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices; especially : one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance."

I told her not to go anywhere, and that I would go to Landmark to tell them what I want. 

Upon arriving at the customer service table, I announced to the three women seated there that the BAKLA has arrived. Nandito na itong BAKLANG ito. 

Li-J couldn't even speak to me. I told her that I wasn't taking our conversation personally, and that she was the one who made it personal by calling me using a derogatory term. I told her I never called her pobre, bobo, puta, or... since she was Filipino-Chinese, Intsik-Bejong abnormal. 

She made it personal by calling me a BAKLA. My parents did not pay for an Ateneo education just for this woman to belittle me and my sexual preference. I did not work my butt off to get into UP Diliman just for her to regard me so lowly by calling me a faggot. I told her that it was not right to call black people NIGGERS, and that she will not call black people like that to their faces. I told her it was not right to call homosexuals faggots, and that BAKLA is tantamount to saying FAGGOT. 

Unfortunately for her, this BAKLA is not your ordinary parlor gay. This BAKLA lives in fancy houses, in condominiums, drives around in fancy SUVs, wears hundred thousand peso watches, and sports the latest and most expensive technology pieces. I am no ordinary BAKLA. 

What type of customer service does Landmark offer if one of their regular employees, like Li-J, would just loosely call people using derogatory terms. What type of management does Landmark have if they tolerate bigots in the workplace?

A crowd of salesladies arrived to watch the scene. I made things interactive for them. Pointed to two, and asked them if they were regular employees or contractual employees. They were contractual employees. I asked one of them if they would call a customer they were speaking to over the phone BAKLA. She replied she wouldn't because she respects the people she interacts with at work, co-workers or customers. 

RESPECT.

I was not respected by Li-J. To her, I was nothing but some makulit na BAKLA. 

I am a Filipino. I work and pay my taxes. I work hard and contribute to the countries GDP. I am a Filipino and yet I am not accorded with the same rights that my heterosexual counterparts are given. I cannot marry the person I love here in my country. I will have to go to some foreign land and marry my boyfriend there, but my country will never recognize our union. Our assets will never be shared. As much as I want to share everything with him, I can only put my name or his name at each property that we buy. I am not given the same rights as my countrymen and to make things worse, I am not respected by the staff of Landmark just because of my preference. To Landmark, I am a third class citizen regardless of how much I spend in their department store. 

7-day suspension is not enough. After that, she returns to work and its as if nothing has happened. If indeed Landmark does not tolerate bigots, they should let her go. I will no longer be able to shop freely in their department store because I now have the impression that all their salesladies are bigots, if their regular employee manning customer service is given free reign at calling customers derogatory terms.
 
If she is let go, she will find another job and forget everything that happened to her today, March 27th. I will have to live with the fact that a Landmark employee insulted me, when my complaint was right, when it was indeed their lapse for not informing us of the ORs and sales invoices. 


Where is the justice?

Evil Relatives

borrowed from passionatescribbles.blogspot.com

I'm sure all of you have your fair share of stories on how evil your relatives are. Nobody takes the cake on how evil my mother's family is.

Yes, I will give you a background on how shitty my mother's family is.

My grandmother used to be in charge of the finances of my mother's company. She stole money from my mother. Can you imagine, stealing money from your own daughter? There must be special place in hell for people like her. I really don't know where the money went. It probably went to her youngest son, who is a BUM, or one of her daughters, the SLUT.

So evil grandmother is recently back from a hiatus in the US. She used to live there with my closet-gay uncle, who at over 50 has not yet come out. Funny thing is, everybody assumes he's gay anyway. He sent the mother back to the Philippines when gay marriages started becoming legal in the US, so go-figure. He must have an American homo waiting to marry him stuffed in a condo somewhere in San Diego. And he didn't just send evil grandmother home, he also sent home senile veteran grandfather. So the couple from hell are back in Philippine shore.

Now, evil grandmother is staying in the house of Tita SLUT, who ended up marrying Tito POBRENG BEJO. Tita SLUT is sort of stupid, because she should have just used her looks and vajudge and snatched an old rich man who is set to die, and leave her all her money. Instead, the airhead decides to marry a poor INTSIK-BEJO from the slums of Binondo. Seriously?!? The only thing Tito POBRENG BEJO is good at is stealing money. They were part of the Balajadia pyramid scam. The guy "allegedly" has multiple businesses, but seems to be hell-bent on gaining access to the measly veteran's pension of senile grandfather. He would go through extremes just to secure what is a little over US$100 a month. To the extent that he would declare the ATM of senile grandfather stolen. Imagine that?!

Evil grandmother on the other hand, probably missing the high-life in San Diego under the wing of Tito Closet-Gay, pretended she was dying and forced herself to be confined in Philippine Heart Center.

Of course, the vultures descended! All the other siblings in other parts of the world flew back to Manila to pay homage to the beautiful acting skills of evil grandmother. She miraculously recovered afterwards. Sad, the siblings thought they could start dividing their mana.

Tito BUM has a wife who went to Singapore to work, she's pretty stupid though. The only reason she's surviving Singapore with her broken English is because everybody there talks Singlish! Last I heard is she wants to quit, and she has not saved enough. By the way, she works at a 24-hour convenience store! How can you not last in a convenience store. You don't really need a college-degree for that! She wasn't able to save because Tito BUM and his stupid daughter flew to Singapore twice for vacation already. Hello!

Tito BUM should have died years ago. In one of his regular drinking sessions in their house in Quezon City, he got into an altercation with the neighbor who stabbed him. Missed his heart though. It is true what they say, ang masamang damo mahirap mamatay.

I have a tita who lives in Australia now. She used to be a doctor here in the Philippines, married another doctor. Apparently, however, just because you're an MD, and you marry one, doesn't mean you have a comfortable life. The husband's mother is... or was... even a corrupt judge, so she is... was loaded. She died recently, much to the joy of Tita MD's husband. They migrated to Australia, but Tita MD ended up working as a nurse. She's better off, because her husband ended up becoming... a BUM! Can you imagine? You're an MD in Australia, and he just stays in their house? It gets better, he doesn't just stay in the house. He surfs porn all day! How did we know? Tita MD caught some charges on his credit card for porn sites. And Tita MD doesn't get any financial assistance from this guy! He only pays for his share in the house. Talk about married bliss.

I should probably write a book on this. Maybe a television channel will pick it up as a telenovela. They're sick, really. No wonder I am anything but normal.

The Filipino family is now driven by greed, money, lust, drunken-stupor. No wonder the Philippines is 3rd world.

My sister and I are waiting for their generation to die, already. Because when my mother's generation dies, My siblings and I are on top of the heap. And what will we do? Well, we'll continue the family tradition of course. We will make sure that the stupid daughter of Tito BUM gets what she deserves. And the adopted daughter of Tita SLUT, well, I'll send her to the whorehouse, just like her mother.

Curbing My Urges

Was at Glorietta 3 today after work. Got a haircut and purchased a Moshi iPhone 4S back plate. That was everything I budgeted to purchase. You see, I'll be purchasing a 60sqm condominium over the weekend, so I really have to curb my urge to purchase on a whim.

I was tempted by Fino, however. I didn't give in, though. I almsot purchased a leather iPad 2 folio, but I didn't! Somebody please congratulate me!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad2

Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer

borrowed from http://intrepid-llc.com/branding/new-book-cover-design/

I hope people aren't sick of what is turning out as a series for the bane of my existence at work. The picture is cute, isn't it? Apparently, there's a book entitled Shedding the Corporate Bitch. I personally have not seen a copy, but I will check Amazon later.

I had once been asked by an officemate of my boyfriend if I enjoyed working in the corporate world. You see, their world is different. In their office, the women dress up, wear stilettos, and get paid to shop. I told her I wasn't enjoying it because backstabbing is part of the culture, and bitchiness is the name of the game. Truly, it is in my current job where I was really able to apply the adage, "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."

I attended a board meeting today (yes, it doesn't get any more corporate than that.. a board meeting!). One of the board of directors posted I question about an event that we held last December. She asked why we did not charge the extra guests an entrance fee. I knew the answer rather well, that the other faction of the organization that I work for, led by a sly old Chinese bitch, ordered the dumb bitch-that-I-hate-so-much co-manager of mine not to charge anymore. That Chinese bitch, and dumb bitch co-manager are really such a good team. So what did I do? Well, dumb bitch co-manager was on leave and wasn't in the board meeting, so I, after my uber-evil mind ad calculated the damage to her and to myself, told the truth. I told everyone that dumb bitch co-manager ordered that we don't charge the extra guests anymore. Everybody was shocked! Who is she to order that we don't charge the extra guests?

Of course within minutes, my boss who was in the same meeting, sent me a message to scold me. Get the facts straight, he said. Oh please, it doesn't get more straight than that! I knew he was going to scold me for telling the truth, because dumb-bitch co-manager is his pet. And of course dumb bitch co-manager who was but a text message away defended herself by saying that she only ordered that extra guests don't pay for the people directly under her jurisdiction. Oh please, like we don't belong to a complex linked to each other! If you order that people under your jurisdiction, the other two jursdictions shouldn't pay as well, otherwise, they would question why they're paying. Furthermore, the people in her jurisdiction were the ones who brought their entire baranggays to the event! Hello?!?

Get my facts straight. Well, yes, to get my facts straight, I did what was right. I was to be scolded in the process, but it was a smile price to pay for the chink that I caused dumb bitch co-manager's armor.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Why did I bring that up? Because I had a little skit during the board meeting. I knew the scolding was going to come, by text, not as much expected. But as soon as I received the scolding, I acted dumb. Like, oops, I didn't know it wasn't that way (think Elle Woods in Legally Blonde clueless, but brilliant!). I still come out clean. A bit ditzy, but still clean. After all, I'm just the poor little rich boy who was hired to handle the socials, and other kasosyalan of the complex. All I know is to shop, right?

She really has to be careful of me. I'm evil. I learned from the best. My high school was really good training ground for these acts of deviousness. I survived an evil pack of fags in high school, and I still came out to be the clueless ditz who couldn't harm a fly. Well, they didn't see anything coming.

Watch out for more of my brand of corporate politics. If I'm successful, I will be shedding that dumb corporate bitch.

Counting the Hours

Pretty exhausted already at work, and yet only half the day has past. Can't wait for 5:00PM so I can already leave. Or maybe its the lack of potassium that's causing me to feel exhausted? Who knows? Feel pretty idiotic though. I actually have to consciously remind myself to drink water, otherwise I wouldn't be getting any water at all. So that's going to be part of the New Year's resolution. Funny, to ensure that I don't forget, I stuck a post-it note on my PC's monitor. How sad is that? Counting the days, as my boyfriend flew for UK just this morning. He'll be returning on Friday. So, for the time being, I will be all by my lonesome in the condo, catching up on TV series, and on my reading. - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad2

Atonement

borrowed from beeonfilm.blogspot.com

I am not one to turn this blog into a movie review site. I just wanted to share how my error in purchasing this DVD has been an opportune coincidence as I ended up liking its quite tragic turn out.

I purchased the DVD thinking it was a period piece ala Pride and Prejudice, or Sense and Sensibility. Try as hard as I may, I can never finish these novels of Jane Austen. I would often start reading the book, only to stop midway. Eventually, a couple of years or so later, I would try to start reading it again, only to lose interest.

I have seen the movies though, and I always seem to typecast Keira Knightley into period films, thus. It had been my mission for quite so long to be able to watch Atonement, then. Finally, I was able to purchase a copy, and I ended up watching it after a busy day of teaching. Much to my surprise, it was set in World War II.

It's a World War II Romeo and Juliet drama. I don't really want to dwell on the storyline as I know a quick search on Wikipedia would help those seeking the plot out. I wanted to tell everybody that even though I hate dramas, I actually like this one.

It must be the tragedy. Robbie and Cecilia, never being able to really get the much deserved time that they wanted, all because of a sister who cried wolf sending Robbie to jail.

It was a love story that never was. In the end, Briony, the wicked sister who had so much to atone for felt that in order to do justice to her sister and sister's lover, she would fictionalize the ending of her autobiographical account, Atonement. Cecilia and Robbie died months apart during 1940.

She romanticized it. Now, I don't want to sound as if I am a person of faith, but I believe no such fiction was needed. You see, Robbie died in the war, and Cecilia died because of the bombings of London during the war, months apart. I want to see the coincidence of dying months apart as romantic in itself already. Neither needed to live long without the other. They did end up spending time together, they had an eternity of not waiting for a lifetime to be together.

Valentine's Day is still over a month away, and I am not churning out the sick-puppy eyed lovestruck addict just yet, but the movie struck me. It would be more difficult living a lifetime without that one great love of yours. So why bother. Pray for a coincidence, because if you're lucky enough, you don't have to spend a lifetime of waiting for an eternity to be together.

Hah, random thoughts.