Aug 2007

I find out I was gay during grade six. I came out when I was in college.

It was just too much hard work pretending to be straight.

I could never come out to my family. Not in a million years.

So, I came out to my college barkada.

I started with my bestfriend, Donnie (who's also a closet gay, although it was pretty obvious since he was the president of the Spice Girls fan club).

Plus, this was how he looked:

He didn't say he was gay, but nobody had to ask, that's the thing.

I told him inside the library, our favorite hangout.

"Donnie, I'm gay," I said bluntly.

"Newsflash!" he bleeped, "hello! Of course, you are."

"You knew?" I asked, flabbergasted. I thought I did a pretty good job of "being straight".

"Don't tell me you were pretending to be straight???" he questioned.

"I- I- I thought I was," I stammered.

"Honey, you're gay, I'm gay, heck, even my brother's gay," he said whilst perusing his notes, "It's a gay gay world and we are its butterflies."

This was the first time he acknowledged anything about his sexuality.

"I knew you were gay the moment you were able to correctly spell haute couture for me," he babbled on, " you even gave me a brief background about the start of Fashion Week in New York City, for crying out loud."

"So, am I the first one you've come out to?" he asks. I nodded.

"Well, go away and tell your pseudo-girlfriend, Julienne, about it," he commands, waving me away.

Ugh. Tell Julienne? Okay. Easier said than done. Julienne was, and still is, the only person whom I would trust with my life. She knows everything about me. Well, almost everything.

She was working in between the shelves.

I approached her and was about to open my mouth when she turned to me, took off her glasses, and said:

"Donne just texted me five seconds ago. So, you're gay," she said, with her hands on her hips, "I had a feeling you were. Hmmm... this puts a slight kink to our getting-married-before-thirty-plan, don't you think?"

I stood there, mouth open.

"Hahahahahaha! Don't worry, honey," she laughed, "It's perfectly fine. I knew you were gay the moment you said that Visionaries was nothing but a straight version of Care Bears."

"You don't mind my being gay?" I asked.

"Mind? Why would I mind?" she asked, surprised, "At least now, when we go shopping together, you can give an honest opinion about the clothes I buy."

I pondered this thought for a second.

"Have you told Aleva?" she asked, going back to her work.

"Not yet. Where is she?" I asked, looking around.

"She's on the other side of the library," she said.

I went to the other side to find Aleva reading in the Periodicals area. She was sitting on the floor, Indian-style.

She heard me come in and looked up. She smiled.

"Jules called. I knew you were gay the moment you told me that I need to sieve my flour whenever I make brownies," she said, giggling, "That was sooooo Martha Stewart of you."

God, I love my friends.

1. frenemy

An enemy disguised as a friend.

"What do you think about frenemies?"
"I say, keep your friends close, and your frenemies closer"

- From urbandictionary.com

Mr. Frenemy wasn't, in all actuality, an enemy. However, he was to others. "Others" being close friends of mine. Not a lot of people like him. I kinda did. I still do, I think. He was always nice to me, you see. But admittedly, he can be a bit of an asshole to most people. And he had this nasty habit of incurring management's ire.

So I wasn't entirely proud of what I did. Twice.

It all started the day he asked if he could come over my place to watch my DVD copy of "An Inconvenient Truth".

I said sure and "bring something to eat coz there's absolutely nothing in my fridge".

He nodded and smiled that silly smile which makes his face kinda crooked.

Let me describe Mr. Frenemy.

I think he's about 24 years old. He's a masscomm grad and does not play any sports.

He's taller than I am and has shaggy hair.

He's not that good-looking but he's definitely not ugly. Keri na, kumbaga.

He has a medium build.

He's smart and knows how to fake sincerity using his boyish looks.

Enough about how he looks.

So anyway, he arrived at around 10PM, along with a box of pizza and some ice cream.

"I didn't know what flavor you liked so I got Double Dutch and Fruit Salad," says Mr. Frenemy, wearing his silly grin.

"Fruit salad? Fruit salad? Honestly, I don't think anyone really likes Fruit Salad as an ice cream flavor," I quip, "it's so provincial."

"You're the only person I know who can use the word "provincial" to describe an ice cream flavor," he says, chuckling.

So we sit on my couch and settle down to watch the movie, which is, by the way, really quite good. I developed a sudden intelectual crush on Al Gore. Imagine him in a speedo, ooooh.

Mr. Frenemy scoonches closer and closer to my side.

"Could I do some pushin'?" he asks sleepily.

"Whaat?" I blurt out.

"I asked if I could use you as a cushion?" he repeated.

"Oh," I breathed, "ummm... ho-kay..."

So he sidles up really close and lays half his body next to mine, his head on my chest, really comfy.

Hmmm... interesting development... I thought to myself.

Now, I wasn't particularly sure if Mr. Frenemy was, y'know, gay.

I had a feeling, but my gaydar was never reliable.

My friend, Soo-Ann, said my gaydar never was functional to begin with, as I was famous for making monumentally stupid assumptions about people's sexuality (re: pumpkin (that's another story)).

I was still trying to ignore the fact that here's this seemingly straight guy on my couch sitting next to me so close that I could smell his light perfume, and trying to focus on the movie.

I kept telling myself, "Focus, Buquir, focus! Must think about depleting ozone layer and global warming".

But then Mr. Frenemy turned to me and said, "Ok lang ba?"

"Ang alin?" I asked with some hesitation. Medyo may piyok pang kasama.

And then, he kissed me. Smack lang naman.

Silence for about five minutes as the smack turned to something else.

Then he stopped.

"So, okay lang ba?" he asked again.

I sat there silent for about ten seconds.

Then I said:

"Dun tayo sa kuwarto ko."

1315 - Louis X of France marries Clemence d'Anjou.

1326 - Aradia de Toscano, according to legend/folklore, is initiated into a Dianic witchcraft cult, subsequently founds
the tradition of Stregheria later known as the Malandanti.

1536 - Buddhist monks from Kyōto's Enryaku Temple set fire to 21 Nichiren temples throughout Kyoto in the Tenbun
Hokke Disturbance. (Traditional Japanese date: July 27, 1536).

1904 - Lightning strikes the belltower of the Kirtland Temple. A bucket brigade barely saves the historic structure.

1913 - Otto Witte, an acrobat, is crowned King of Albania.

1913 - Invention of stainless steel by Harry Brearley.

1968 - Alexandros Panagoulis attempts to assassinate the Greek dictator Colonel G. Papadopoulos in Varkiza, Athens.

1899 - birth of Alfred Hitchcock, English film director (d. 1980)

I'm sure you guys have no idea what this is about. Let's keep it that way. I don't wanna go into all that shit again. Pero ito na lang last...

2007- Otanjou-bi Omedetou Gozaimasu!... yun lang. Ingat ka, Paris.

As I came down the stairs, I could already hear "House" playing yet again on our DVD.

Aaah, Julienne's home, I thought to myself.

There was Jules, sitting on the couch, eating her trademark unsalted peanuts and beans.

"Mornin' sunhine," says she, without looking away from the TV.

"Hi cupcake," I greet back.

I sit next to her and grab some of her food.

"Where were you for the past three weeks?" I asked casually.

"Oh, here and there," she says just as casually, "I have a couple of pics.

The couple of pics turned out to be about at least two hundred.

"Where's this?" I ask about the pic above.

Without looking at the picture I was referring to, eyes glued still to the TV, she answers, "Agusan Marshlands. I was there for about a week."

I didn't even ask what she was doing there.

"How about this one, where was this?" I asked.

She still didn't look, but said, "The one where I was in the raft? Some river in the Visayas..."

"Hmmm..." I say, cause I really couldn't think of anything to say.

"I brought you some pasalubong," she says quietly.

"Yehey! Gimme gimme gimme!" I laugh out. I love pasalubongs.

She pulls out a bag beside her and gives me a plastic bag full of...

"Kamote?" I ask, stunned.

"Yes... kamote," she says casually.

"Gee... thanks," I manage to say.

I sit there looking at the TV, with a bag of dirty kamote on my lap.

"They're special kamote," she says after five minutes of silence.

"Special? What do you mean? Don't tell me their some sort of hallucinogenic kamote which causes flatulence and visions of flying monkeys?" I ask, feeling perturbed.

"No, silly," she says with a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Check out the last picture in that bunch."

"It's you... doing manual labor... waitaminute... don't tell me...you...you," I stuttered.

"Yes, sunshine, I planted those kamote. I reaped what I sowed," she says blandly.

I sit stunned.

"I'm awfully touched by this, cupcake, but... ummm, I..." I don't know how to say it.

"You don't eat kamote, don' worry, I know," says Jules.

I sit there saying nothing.

"That's why I bought you a box of Krispy Kremes. They're in the fridge," she says, finally looking at me, smiling.

I run for the fridge.

Yummm... krispy goodness.... sure as heck beats kamote.

I had nothing else to do so I decided to open up my dusty old Kodak Gallery account and checkout the old pics I had there. And boy, did I have a good laugh!

This is Bianca. Ang coot cooty noh?

No, silly. This isn't me. This is Cyril. He fancied himself angelic. This from the guy who always answered my sup calls with the opening line, "Baklaaaaah!!!"

He was one of our CCD's back then. And he was good. And very dedicated, as seen here in this photo. Kahit naka-costume, tuluy-tuloy pa rin ang tsika sa calls!

I included this, well, because I thought she was hilarious. I mean, honestly, a ballerina on the Ops floor. At feel na feel ng lola nyo ang pag-pose ha! Career pa ang make-up!

Here we have Emir. Ang Baklang Pulis. Enough said.

Hahahahahahaha!!!!

I woke up the sleeping girl and this was what she tried to do to me.

Crazy crazy girl...

This is the same girl, the one in red, sitting down. Marunong naman pala mag-ayos ang lola mo eh.

Ikaw na ang mag-pose sa Greenbelt ng ganito!!! Fierce!!!