Archive for February, 2006

super stressful

I don’t even know why I had the time and energy to write this. Purging, at the least.

It was supposed to be a fun fuzz-free night at the anniversary party of Embassy Super Club, which our company sponsored and coordination and dealings of which was handled by me. Everything about the part of the organizers, in terms of the conditions and benefits we’d enjoy for shelling out a hundred thousand pesos, was wrong. It was a comedy of errors. That sort of comedy where you’d like to hurl the couch you’re sitting on towards the teevee.

First, they violated our corporate logo, which was prominently displayed on the photo-op wall for guests dressed in university dudes and hooker highschool girls to pose at. I could forgive the tacky material used, a cut-out styro of our logo, but not the distortion and wrong typography of the logo. It was like one those signs you see in front of a horror booth house. It’s that freaking terrible.

Second, the organizer didn’t include two of my major brands, who shared in the sponsorship cost, in the AVP loop which featured a year-worth of photos of the Club’s events and crazed, drugged, guests in wild party abandon.

These stressed me out upon arrival at the venue an hour before the party pops. My boss and I had to find ways to salvage the situation and save face from the sponsoring brands I bugged and asked money and resources from. End of the day, there was nothing more we could do. AVP loop’s on DVD already, our store is already closed to be able to pull-out banners, and we are just fucking fed up already from the sub-class output and half-baked promises of the party’s organizers. So we had to make do with live acknowledgment and mention in post-event publicity. I didn’t even stay to enjoy the party. Just downed a glass of vodka tonic to appease my stressed-out self.

Thankfully, I put in place an omnibus banner featuring all sponsoring brands from my company, like those logowalls you see as photo-op background in the Oscars, in Fashion Weeks, and the like. The organizer thought it was classy and fabulous. I know, right? And you are not.

To reward you for reaching this far into my rant entry, here’s another picture of Andrew Wolff. Hot ramp and print model from Manila. Shoe size: 13. Chest size: 41 last time he measured. 6 feet and 2 inches. And he is only 20 years old.



Sorry for the lack of entries of late, I have zero energy to write and have nothing interesting to write about. Unless political turmoil and countries being put on a national emergency state interest you. But that’s what CNN, BBC, and your local channel covering our part of the world are for.

So while the government is doing a Mopping Operations and the Marines are conducting their own Operation: Explain-the-sudden-graceful-exit-slash-resignation-of-our-Chief, my other gay colleague and I have launched our own tactical task force which aims to finally liberate our straight guy colleague from the constrictive confines of his so-called straight life – Operation: Ate (Sister, in English). It’s so funny how we always try to have him come out, fuzzing over the littlest ways and things he does and says, and tagging it to something gay. From the gay lingo he uses, or has come to adopt because we (gays and girls alike) casually gay-talk in the office, to the way he adores (yes, adores and praises you for it) our lady colleague’s latest footwear acquisition. And oh, he once “accidentally” got in a gaybar, and admittedly awkwardly liked it. Like, hello? You’re a flip of a finger away from sisterhood, ate! Thankfully, we haven’t got punched in the face yet, after all the daily torture metamorphosis we put him through.

Finally got the massage I’ve been longing to get last Saturday and it was amazing! Enough said.

It’s one of my colleague’s birthday yesterday and she treated us today to a supposedly traditional Chinese chicken dish – Sincerity Chicken. Anyone else heard of it? It’s your familiar fried chicken, but from the way it tastes, it must have been dipped or marinated in some sweet sauce before frying. Strange name for a chicken, huh? And I’m sincere about that.

Same colleague is in emotional wreck as of this typing. Just got a text message from her, in fact. She’s moving to a different division, going to brand-assist Clinique, and she’s feeling bad about her move. She’s been worrying about how to tell our boss that she’d eventually – like in two days, three tops – transfer, since it’s the same boss who picked her out and groomed her to intern in our company two years ago. Also, her emotional attachment to the group is so rooted that I think, makes things harder for her. So she was able to finally say it, after being asked abruptly by our boss this evening. Boss, of course, was totally disappointed and being an emotional ride that it has been for my colleague, the coaster has yet to halt. She needed to talk to me later. Sure, I said. Hey, you are twenty-freakin-two so don’t worry about these things. Sooner or later, people at the office would fall out. Just happened that yours came sooner than everyone else’s. Stay pretty and perky!

Hello to my random and loyal visitors from Spain, Japan, Malaysia, Australia, Canada, the US, the UK, Norway, France, Singapore, Germany, Greece, Belgium, and of course, my fellas from the Philippines! Thanks for dropping by.

And here are some random pics from the latest issue of ICON Magazine.

"i wish i knew how to quit you."

There’s a total slump of interesting things in my life lately. Well aside from this one precious gift of a movie.

At work, I find myself juggling between chasing people, listening to Brokeback Mountain, chasing time, watching Brokeback Mountain, chasing ideas, and thinking of Brokeback Mountain. At home, I channel between Big Brother, Brokeback Mountain, American Idol, Brokeback Mountain, and bytes and bytes of blogs that I love going back to, the same way I like going back to Brokeback Mountain.

It’s official. I am not getting over Brokeback Mountain anytime soon. I could not believe how much this movie has affected me. The day after I’ve seen the movie, which was Monday, I was totally melancholic at work, my colleagues have noticed it right away. My day seemed gloomy, what with thoughts of Ennis and Jack never getting to share the rest of their lives together. All these while listening to the movie soundtrack, from the haunting overtures of Gustavo Santaolalla leading to the pining words of “He was a friend of mine,” “A love that will never grow old,” “I don’t want to say goodbye,” and “The maker makes” and the assuring words of love in “No one’s gonna love you like me” and “I will never let you go.” Country music never sounded this good.

Monday night I was able to download the movie off Limewire, which I immediately imported to my iPod, keeping me perpetually glued to Jack, Ennis and Brokeback Mountain, whenever, wherever.

There’s no quitting this.

I swear.

love is a force of nature

I finally got to see Brokeback Mountain. It’s brave. It’s wrenching. It’s beautiful.

I don’t need to say more. You’ve heard and read it all before.

Possibly the single movie that would continue to sting me ’til the moon be no more.

"what time is it there?"

I received a totally unexpected phone call tonight. The number of the person calling didn’t register on my phone so I thought it was an international call from Knut, as is always the case. Taking the call hurriedly, I was caught surprised when it wasn’t Knut’s soothing voice that reached me through the wires. It was a girl’s. And it had that American twang to it.

“What time is it there?” she asked. I thought it was just a case of a misdial – an expensive misdial for it was indeed an international call. Then I asked who she was.

“It’s Star. Christarlette.”

Pause – a long pause on my part. Man, I was floored.

Oh. My. God. It was my ex-girlfriend calling. My only girlfriend from high school. Oh. My. Good. Lord. Yes, we exchanged a couple of messages at Friendster three months ago. She gave me her number, I gave mine. But I didn’t expect her to call. Yes, I told her at my Friendster message how I realize that I miss her so much. That it was so elating to hear from her again after all these years. You see, she went back to the States junior year. I always knew she’d be joining the US Navy, but apparently she joined the Air Force and is flying high for two and a half years now.

So back to the conversation, it was short, sweet, and surreal. She only had four minutes remaining on her phone card, it was early morning over there, and having been up for over an hour, she thought of calling me. She’s still single and she was supposed to get married. She asked me if I was already married. I said no. She asked if I had children. I said I wouldn’t come to that. I asked her if she had children. She said no. I don’t know why I said “perfect.” She asked me if I’m going to America. I said no, that nothing and no one in America is waiting for me, so why go. Well, except for a trip to New York, I guess. I told her I have my eyes set on Europe. But didn’t discuss any other details. Didn’t tell her I was gay. She said I sounded different. I don’t think my voice had a certain gay-ness to it. Must be the years in between she said. I said hers was still the same. Then I remembered those times when she used to sing to me on the phone. So surreal. The whole four minutes of it was so surreal. It made my heart skip. I was elated. I don’t fucking know why I was smiling ear-to-ear after the conversation.

Hmmm. I don’t know how to end this post. My head’s still spinning. This whole thing is fucking with my head. I want to hear from her again, though. I said I would call her one of these days. She said she would, too. Let’s wait until that time comes.

disconnected and charged

As if someone at the office had premonitioned and practiced Shigeki’s “How to take an afternoon off @ work if you really, really have to leave,” the network at the office was down the whole day today, which means no Internet, no emails, and practically no work for me today since I intended to work on stuff I emailed to lotsa people yesterday – on projects, promotions, events, newsletters, blah blah blah.

Of course, our IT department got the bashing (well, internal) of the day, since not only are they a sucky group, they also respond to situations like this after a gazillion years. When I left the office at three (more of that later), there was still no whirring on my modem and no Internet bytes shooting my way. How would they expect people at the office building to work disconnected from the Net/email, when some of the most important transactions are initiated, negotiated, and sealed via Outlook? Moreso, how would they expect the crazy people of my department to work on such sad state?

Well, we don’t take it lightly. We take it out!

Lunch out at 11:30. Stayed at the restaurant until 2:00. Colleagues went shopping for shoes until 2:45. I went to a meeting in one of our company’s stores at 3:30. Ended the meeting 20 minutes later. Scoured the fashion floors for good finds since our company’s department store is holding its End of Season Sale. Two shopping carrier bags at hand by 7:00 – a pair of Steve Madden leather shoes and a bag from Puma, both at 50% off.

If I only got enough charge on my company credit card, I would have bought that 50% off white Kenzo sneakers I fell in love with today.


I celebrated Valentine’s Day silently and by my lonesome yesterday since Knut is in a place halfway around the world. No candle lit dinners. No big night. No long-stem roses. Or so I thought. Upon coming home, I was surprised that a lovely bouquet of reds from Knut was waiting for me.

And it was not just roses. It also has carnation, gerbera, and anthurium all arranged beautifully in a wicker basket. This is the second time that Knut has sent me flowers, the first being on my 23rd birthday, and it made my heart skip a beat again. Thank you, my darling and Happy Valentine’s Day to you! God and Embassy willing, we would be together again very soon. That’s the only Valentine’s Day gift I could give you.

Love lots.

Tweet Tweet!

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 10 other followers